Prologue:
The boy in front of him looked angry and his hazel green eyes were dark and small, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth pressed into a single small line. His thick dark curls stood up in every direction possible as he took his hands and ran them through it, finally removing even the last bit of gel. He stared him in the eye, the whole body shaken. Underneath the hate and rage was something else. It wasn't as clear to see but it was definetely there, he just couldn't name it yet. Didn't want to name it. He resisted the urge to reach out his hands to touch the boy, to calm him down, knowing that everything he'd get to touch would be the cold, hard glass of the mirror.
I'm just more - Chapter 1
Blaine Anderson was a normal teenage boy. Well, maybe a little bit shorter than the average – that was the reason for his nickname "Hobbit", that and his curls – he never seemed to worry about anything but wasn't quite the happy boy either. He was something you'd call equable. On the outside at least.
He was sitting in his dorm room, trying to get rid of these emotions, so he could join the others for another impromptu performance of their Glee club called "The Warblers". But as hard as he tried, he couldn't get rid of the voice of his father, yelling at him through the telephone, telling him that he was worth nothing, not the money they spent on him and not worth carrying the name Anderson anymore. Blaine never would have told his father that he was gay two years ago, if he hadn't been absolutely sure he would love him neverthless. But he was wrong. So damn wrong. He hadn't talked to him in a long time after that, and today he did try and call him, but that was the biggest mistake in his life. All he wanted was a father who loved him, who told him that everything was gonna be alright. He wanted to be treated like every normal child. But wasn't he normal? Not in the eyes of his father.
After minutes of yelling on the telephone his father had hung up, his last words of him still lingering in his head: "Stay the hell away from us, I don't want you here anymore. You're a failure, Blaine, a frickin' fag!"
He didn't want him near his family anymore, and Blaine was absolutely sure that that was the only reason he still paid the Dalton bills – to keep him away.
The minute he told him, revealed his soul and biggest fears, he was gone. He never stood up for him, or helped him against the bullies. He let everything happen to Blaine, his son, without doing anything. Blaine felt alone, even with a house full of people, people he called family and who were supposed to love him. His mother loved him, he knew that, but she was afraid to do something his father didn't want her to do. And his sister? She was too little to even understand.
He got shoved into lockers, thrown into dumpsters and got pushed face first into the toilet, and nobody cared. He had gone to the headmaster once, but all he'd told him was to transfer to another school. Blaine knew the headmaster would be more than relieved to see him go. Blaine refused, he didn't wanted to run away, to look like a coward. That was before prom.
Blaines thoughts went back to the most terrible night in his whole life. He never wanted to think about it ever again, never wanted to feel the pain again. His hand reached automatically his neck. A long scar ran from underneath his ear up to the back of his head. It began to ache when he thought about how he got it. No, Blaine, not today, you're not going back there, it's in the past, don't let it bring you down! You've already got enough to worry about. But it was too late.
His mind was an endless sea of bad memories, everything that made his life miserable. He didn't want this anymore. The only thing he wanted was for everything to stop.
Blaine stood up, his legs stiff from sitting, and began to walk around in his room. This were times when he was glad to have a room to him alone, these were the moments when he let down all his walls, even if he didn't want to. He didn't want to show weakness, even if it was just him who could see it. When he reached his desk he saw the picture of his father. He didn't think twice as it flew across the room, hit the door and shattered down and landed with a loud thud on the floor, broken glass flying in every direction.
Blaine jumped as someone knocked at his door. "Blaaaaiine? Everything alright in the Shire, hobbit?" Wes' voice shouted through the closed door, sounding worried. Damn, thought Blaine, he'd never done something like this and this sure as hell wasn't allowed to happen again. He didn't want his friends to know about his personal problems, it was enough for them to know that he was gay. They didn't need to know his problems, that he wasn't as happy as he seemed to be and that he even cried himself to sleep sometimes. "Blaine?" Wes voice asking again, this time a little bit more worried. Blaine jumped again, having totally forgotten that his friend was standing outside. He took a long steadying breath and answered with what he hoped was a strong voice. "Yeah, Wes, I'm fine, stay outside, I-I just tripped over a...a towel and hit the frame of a picture. Everything is fine, I'll come as soon as I clear it up!" Hoping Wes would believe it, he started to gather up the bigger pieces of glass, making as much sound as possible. "Okay, meet you there!", and with that, Wes started walking away. Blaine let out a heavy breath, leant against the door and sinked down to the floor. His head between his knees he sat there, trying to gain control of his shaking body. Today wasn't his day. Well, everyday wasn't his day. Wouldn't it be easy to bring this all to an end? Nobody loved him, apreciated him the way he was. Sure, he had friends, but they didn't even know him. Didn't know the truth behind his facade. And he wasn't going to tell them. He'd taken a huge risk by telling them he was gay. His mind went back and he remembered how normal his friends had acted as he'd told them. As if it was the most natural thing. As if they already knew it, or at least had guessed it. They had made jokes, but none of the offending ones. For the first time in his life he had felt accepted. Blaine remembered Nick saying "Aaand did you already pick someone? Having a crush? Come on, tell us!" Blaine's face had turned crimson. Of course he had a crush, but he'd never expected his friends to want to talk about this. "I...well...er...um..." Blaine had tried, but he hadn't been able to talk about himself. Not now. Maybe never. "Hey, Hobbit, it's okay, you don't need to tell us, but we're always here for you, okay? We will not let anything happen to you, get it?" Blaine didn't know how much they knew from his old school or if they simply knew that gay people always got bullied, but he was grateful for this. He felt safe at Dalton, safe with his friends. But he never let anyone near him. Never let anyone see the real Blaine, the boy that he could be. He always tried to be the best just to be appreciated. Things in life wouldn't come to him natutally and he spent hours alone in his bedroom, trying to get better at things he already was the best at. But there was one thing he wished more for than anything else. He wished to be loved by someone, someone he could love in return. A boyfriend. But he knew his life was not a dream, life sucks and he lived in a world where narrow-minded, old-fashioned and hateful people were the standard.
He looked at the sharp piece of glass in his hand. It would be easy to set things to an end. Almost too easy. "You're worth nothing Blaine!", his father's voice yelled at him in his mind, "You brought shame to my name! ..!"
A tear ran across his face and lingered in the corner of his mouth. Angrily he wiped it away with his free hand. The other hand still clung the glass. The emotions came back, and finally he had a name for the one he couldn't identify earlier today. Hurt. He wasn't just angry and furious as he thought, but he never wanted to admit it to himself that he was weak and able to get hurt. But he was. He was hurt and he felt lonely. His heart ached in realisation and his mind went blank. He'd never been that disappointed in himself before, not even when he had slowly begun to realize that he was gay. It wasn't something you could chose, it just happened. Blaine pushed up the sleeve of his blazer, and pressed the sharp end of the glass into his skin.