Hey guys. I know I have other stories to write, but I'm really excited about this one! Glee is my favourite television show, and Klaine is my OTP! So I came up with a plot to write. . By the way, the specific times are necessary to the story. Image of hands on the cover from , by lyjufish.

I don't own Glee, or Somewhere Only We Know by Lily Allen.

Kurt Hummel's life was a schedule.

He rose at six thirty two exactly, then showered for eight minutes until his portion of hot water as used up. He ate breakfast for ten minutes, then got dressed in the allotted three minutes of privacy. He was given twenty minutes of relaxation, before the seven minute and forty five second journey to the fields where he and his father worked. By now, it was seventy twenty, and he worked for seven hours before returning home (another seven minute journey). Dinner was at eight thirty nine, then he was given until curfew - ten o'clock - to do as he pleased. As long as it was in the list of allowed activities, and he didn't stray towards The Divide.

He didn't exactly like the specific routine. But he was used to it. It was how he was raised, and probably how he'd live for the rest of his life. Unless, of course, when he turned eighteen, he was classed as 'gifted'.

Kurt was born on the Left Side of The Divide. He had soft, sweeping brown hair and wide, crystal blue eyes. A thin body from the moderate amount of food and much exercise made him look twiggy and delicate. He looked like everyone else. He fitted into the crowd, and blended in. That was what they wanted. That was the custom, on the left side. Surely, he was no different? Just another unextraordinary face, who'd drop off the Earth one day and never come back, and no one would notice. It was the same with most people born on the Left.

He didn't know what was on the right.

It all happened to stop the wars, around seventy years ago. The government (long since lost. Now it was The Orformus, the upper class democratic society living underground that decided on the world's fate) realised that either the population would kill each other then, or keep fighting until there was nothing left. So they hired a team of incredibly intelligent nuclear physicists and scientists to collaborate with the top weapons experts and create a bomb that could blow a large crater across the middle of the Earth: one thousand two hundred feet deep, three miles wide. The world was split into two - the left and the right.

About a year before The Divide (the crater) was made, the government had taken a survey of every person in the world. All they needed was a name and an age. They filed it together into a book and ripped it in half, straight down the middle. Every name written down on the left side stayed on the left side of The Divide, whilst the rest went to the right. There was no contact between the two sides; people stayed on their own half, and there were no wars.

Inside The Divide were two places. The first was The Otium. This is where the Orformus and the richer, upper class socialites lived. It was luxurious, and the citizens never wanted for anything. They did as they pleased, when they pleased, where they pleased. And they plotted things - things none of the above grounders knew about.

The other part was called The Morel, where people were trained in their art. Remarkable people.

Kurt lived in a small, square house with three rooms and a small, five by five feet garden. Everything was sterile, pure white and squeaky clean. The garden was grass where the residents could grow food, but not much grew where such violent weather occurred.

There were huge storms of harsh lightning, deafening thunder and sheets of torrential rain. None of it affected the uniform rows of houses, all equally spaced apart across half the Earth. They withstood tumultuous storms horrific weather and cruel conditions, and it simply passed them by. Stains did not stay on the stark white walls. They resisted any attack, any weather and any dirt.

Inside the Hummel household were only two residents. Kurt and his father, Burt. His mother had died ten years ago, and he was an only child. It was always quiet, until Burt went out to fetch food from the market or barter for extra hot water. Then the house was alive with noise, as Kurt sung. His voice was soft and gentle, yet high and passionate with raw emotion. When he sung, the neighbours stopped to listen; but Burt was always scared that if Kurt sand, he would be taken by The Orformus.

Whenever someone turned eighteen, they officially became an adult and left their house for a week of testing. There, they were probed for any shred of talent or special ability in their body. If they were deemed 'normal', they returned home with a pat on the shoulder and a contented sigh. if they showed talent, they were classed as 'Gifted' and taken before The Orformus. They were lowered into the Divide,where their talent was nurtured and they were offered a home in The Otium.

But no one ever came out.

Kurt was blissfully unaware of the pitfalls or the possibilities of his voice. So he only sung when his father was away, so he didn't hear Kurt, and Kurt didn't watch Burt's eyes close and his muscles tense as he sent Kurt to his room, silent.

Kurt didn't know any real songs. So he wrote them, on paper or old sheets or scratched into his wall with a shard of glass he'd once found. It was the only thing strong enough to penetrate the thick white wall, ands even then it was only thin, shallow scratches. He sung songs that he wrote, harmonies and all, and slowly built up a collection of pieces of music. He recited them in his head, and tapped out the beat during his slow shifts in the fields where he worked.

All Kurt was told was that when he was eighteen, in one week, he would be tested for an ability. His father told him to lie about it all, but Kurt was a virtuous boy. He was too soft, too gentle to lie to anyone. He would sing, and the birds would sing with him and he would be gone, without his knowledge or consent.

That really hurt Burt.

Despite the disapproval of his only parent, Kurt sung continuously. Out loud, he sung but one song of the many swirling around his head. There was usually only time for one verse, and he tapped along to it on the side of his bed.

Oh simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old and I need someone to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute why don't we go

Talk about it somewhere only we know?

'Cause this could be the end of everything,

So why don't we go

Somewhere only we know?

Somewhere only we know?

It was a slow, melodic harmony that soothed him and he sung it like an angel. But it could be the deciding factor in his fate, and Kurt really didn't want to leave his home.

If he'd known, maybe he wouldn't have sung.

But maybe, just maybe, he would have.