(A/N): Wow, Kurt was really sarcastic and b*tchy in this one! Probably because I wrote it right after a REALLY emotional one (to be posted soon), and I was totally drained. Another one in the works! So keep your eyes out! A thank you to all of my lovely readers, and an even BIGGER thank you to any and all of my lovely reviewers; I love you all so much!

Disclaimer: Wow, really? With all of the people on this site, and all of them having to write disclaimers, you'd think that Glee thought that everyone was out to get a share of their booty of whatever... haha, so no I don't own Glee... duh!

Huh, I never really thought I'd end up back here… but I guess that's irony for you!

In the closet, that's where I am!

No, I don't mean it in the figurative sense; I'm out and proud in that way.

I'm mean that I'm literally in my closet, crying, bleeding, and dying inside.

Closets are sort of like torture space for me; I spent way to long in a particularly suffocating closet once (if you catch my drift).

And what better place to torture yourself than in a perfectly pre-arranged torture chamber?

I used to be able to torture myself wherever I wanted; in my bed, in the bathroom, even at school (using only my own fingernails, thumbtacks, and pencil lead).

But no, Dad had to go and get all frickin' suspicious.

I told him that I only used those razors to shave my legs (quite a believable thing to say, seeing as I do shave them), but – of course – he didn't believe me.

He watches me like a hawk, and – quite frankly – I'm sick of it.

The only place that I can really be alone for extended periods of time is my closet.

I spend that long looking for clothes anyway, and I've been known to do plenty of outfit changes throughout the day.

And I know that Dad won't walk in, because he only needed to do that once to figure out that's not the smartest move.

So, that brings me to where I am now.

Sitting in my freaking colossal closet, crying my eyes out.

It's so empty… so quiet… so terrifying.

Oh, looks like the flow has essentially stopped.

I guess that it's time to pull out the hidden makeup kit to cure my red eyes, and (more importantly) hide the scars.

While I'm applying the makeup, I find that the most convenient time to fix my mask in place.

Don't act like you don't know; everyone has a mask.

Mine's ice-queen, mega-bitch Kurt Hummel.

I'm sure that your mask is the monumental cow-town, dunderhead exterior that really is basically your interior, as well.

The reason that I find it so much easier to put the mask on while doing makeup is really quite simple.

Applying the makeup is such a daily, mundane task, that I feel slightly normal for a few moments.

During those moments of normality, I find it easy to securely fasten on my regular appearance.

It's almost too easy.

And it's all done so conveniently in one of my most and least favorite places;

The closet.

(A/N): Yeah, I just found it so ironic that I was in FAR more closets than one when I was doing all of this. Take that as you will. I love you all! Please review; it completely makes my day!