author's note: hi there. i wanna start by thanking EVERYONE who reviewed, you guys are totally awesome. i have big plans for this story, and you really inspire me to keep writing it. just a heads up, i will be changing the title of this story. but i'll let you know at least a chapter before, and i'll give you a round-a-bout estimate of what it'll be for those of you who don't have it on favorite or alert. lyrics from a day to remember, songs that are mentioned belong to joy devision and avril lavigne. AND SO THE DRAMA BEGINS. dun dun dunnnn.
disclaimer: still own nothing, sorry.


i hate this town,
it's so washed up,
and all my friends
don't give a fuck.


"Blaine, honey, I need to get to work. Come on."

Blaine curses under his breath as he stubs his toe against his keyboard and almost knocks it off its stand. Hurrying to catch it, he calls down, "Santana's picking me up in ten minutes, go ahead."

There's a sigh, and then she says, "Okay. Be careful," A pause, and then, "I love you."

Blaine nods, even though she can't see him. "Yeah, mom, you too." He hears the keys being grabbed from the foyer, the door opening and then closing, and finally his mom pulling out of the driveway. His phone rings—a text from Santana.

pullng onto ur street. wht nmbr?

Pausing for just a second to wonder how she managed to send a text while driving before deciding he really doesn't care, he taps back if you're on mulberry then you're good. i'm number 17.

Her next text is accompanied by a honk outside—aw ur garden is cute wht is this martha stwrts hous?—and through the open window he can hear Santana's music blaring loudly. Blaine grabs his backpack and hurries down the stairs, grabbing his keys and a pop tart on the way.

The bass hits Blaine like a brick the seconds he opens the passenger seat. He blinks a few times before climbing in slowly—Santana's got a hummer, what the hell. Blaine doesn't even have a car—and shutting the door behind him. Santana grins at him and says, "Mornin', Curly Q." Blaine almost doesn't hear her over the music, in which the singer is rapping something about booty popping and big boobs. He shoots Santana a smile and unwraps his pop tart—blueberry, he realizes in dismay. He'd wanted strawberry.


He hadn't exactly broken his promise to his mom. The only kids who know he can turn invisible are in glee club, but they don't count. They're his friends, and they're all kind of in the same boat on that one. It's nice to have someone to finally talk to.

The thing is, the only other gay kid in the school, as far as Blaine can tell, is Kurt Hummel. And Blaine sees the way he's treated. He's not too eager to come out to his new school if that's what he has to look forward to. The guys at Dalton had been really cool about his sexuality—in fact, there were numerous gay kids in the school. The students at McKinley are much less accepting, and he wonders if that's the difference between private and public schools. If Blaine had the choice, he'd be back at Dalton. But their strict bullying policy doesn't extend to freaks like Blaine, they've made that perfectly clear.

Maybe McKinley and Dalton aren't that different after all.

Someone taps him on the shoulder and he jumps, started. Turning around he says, "Can I help you?"

He recognizes the jock in front of him. He's the one that pushed Artie's wheelchair into a locker the other day. He's holding a slushie in his hand, towering menacingly over Blaine. He curses himself for being so damn short.

"Heard we got a new fairy in the glee club," the jock says, and then laughs like it's the funniest thing he's ever said. Blaine frowns.

"I joined glee, yeah," he says, eyeing the slushie, "Why does it matter?"

"It matters cause the glee club is gay," the jock says slowly, like Blaine's the stupid one. Blaine raises an eyebrow.

"No, it's not," he says, frowning deeper.

The jock lets out a frustrated noise and decides he's done talking with Blaine, because a second later Blaine's eyes are stinging from purple ice chips and he feels like he's been submerged under water. He's frozen in place, sticky grape syrup dripping into his open mouth. It burns his eyes and plasters his hair to his head. People are laughing and pointing, and the idiot jock high fives a friend, and honestly, Blaine just wants to disappear. He almost does, too, damn the consequences, before a slim hand touches his shoulder and someone whispers, "Don't do anything stupid, new kid."

Blaine just nods numbly and allows himself to be pushed into a bathroom. He can't see anything through the miles of purple blocking his vision. Someone sits him on a stool and says, "Hold still."

There's this weird pulling sensation and suddenly the syrup is extracting itself from his hair, his shirt, his face. He feels his curls being pulled apart but no one's touching him and he thinks Kurt Hummel. There's a weird burning sensation in his eyes as he feels the syrup clear from them. He hisses out a quick, "It stings."

"Keep your eyes open," Kurt says sternly, and with a final yelp on Blaine's part, the slushie is gone from his eyes. Kurt's standing in front of him, face blank. The syrup that had once been stuck on Blaine is now swirling around in the air above Kurt's head. Kurt, unfazed, lifts a hand and it drops in the sink, a single drop splashing onto Blaine's arm. "There's gonna be a stain," he says disdainfully, eyes dropping to Blaine's shirt, "Your hair's fine though. Just borrow a shirt from Sam or Mike. They should be your size."

With that, Kurt Hummel turns on his heels and walks out of the bathroom with his head held high. Blaine's left wondering what the hell just happened.

It takes Blaine a few seconds of staring at the pink tile on the walls before he realizes he's in the girl's bathroom. He scrambles out of there pretty quickly.


"First slushie, huh?" Sam asks sympathetically, spinning his combination a few times before he actually gets it right. Blaine nods, grimacing at the purple stains on his white tee shirt. Sam grins lopsidedly and says, "First one's always the worst. Just gets easier with each one."

Blaine knows he's trying to be encouraging, so he forces a grin and says, "Hey, thanks for letting me borrow a shirt."

"No worries, man," Sam waves him off, "You're one of us now. It'd help a lot if you start bringing a change of clothes with you," he adds, throwing his locker open and grabbing a gray tee shirt. He tosses it to Blaine and locks his locker, follows Blaine into the boy's bathroom.

Blaine takes his shirt off, tosses it to Sam with a quick, "Thanks," and tugs Sam's shirt over his head. Sam leans against a sink and hands Blaine his own shirt back.

"Hey," Sam says, "Don't let this stop you from doing glee, yeah? It's a lot of fun. They're just assholes. You won't quit, right?"

Blaine runs a hand through his hair and says, grinning, "Not a chance, man."


Santana struts up to his locker and slams it shut. Blaine frowns and says, "I wasn't done."

"Too bad."

His frown deepens. "I need my math homework."

"It can wait."

"Why did you slam my locker?"

She leans sighs impatiently and rolls her eyes, like he's wasting her time. "I needed your full attention," she says, "You're sleeping over my house on Friday."

Blaine raises both eyebrows. "I am?"

Santana nods. "I've decided to make you my best friend, officially. Britt used to be, but then we got together. She can't be both." She pauses, considering, and says, "Well, I guess she could. If she multiplies. That would be a hot threesome, wow…"

Blaine's hands fly to his ears and he lets out an enthusiastic, "La, la, la, I can't hear you!"

Santana swats his arm and gives a small smile. "Don't be stupid."

"Okay, best friend," Blaine teases, and he drapes an arm over her shoulders and starts to lead her down the hall. Santana rolls her eyes, again, and pinches his side. "Demon nails," Blaine hisses.

"They don't call me Satan for nothing," Santana says dryly, snaking an arm around his waste in return. She pauses, "Hey, um, I heard you got slushied earlier."

Blaine shudders. "Yeah. Fricken' terrible."

Santana nods. "Definitely. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Blaine shrugs. "Humiliated, but fine. I almost disappeared right there," Santana's eyes bug out, and Blaine's quick to add, "But I didn't, okay, I didn't. Don't freak. Kurt Hummel stopped me. Cleaned me up. His telekinesis is creepy as all hell, though."

"Lady helped you?" Santana demands, and Blaine nods hesitantly. She starts speaking Spanish furiously under her breath and Blaine mouths, "Lady?" to himself in disbelief. No wonder Kurt's always so pissy, with nicknames like that.


Blaine enters the cafeteria and heads to the glee club's usual table, his lunch heavy in his back pack. He'd learned early in his time at McKinley—and he's only been here for a week—to never eat anything made in the kitchens. The chicken looks like meat loaf and the meat loaf looks like a pile of pudding and the pudding, well. The pudding looks furry, and Blaine has no intentions of going anywhere near it.

He's early, for once, and he sits down in the spot that's become him own. Santana sits on his right side while Rachel sits on his left. Sitting next to Rachel is interesting, because every day this week she's tried to talk him into a duet. Finn, on the other side of Rachel, is left looking a little more disgruntled every day. Blaine politely declines and tries to find her attention flattering, he really does, but it's kind of creepy. Especially because she knows he's gay. And she's dating Finn. Blaine really doesn't want to get on Finn's bad side, because Finn's the quarterback. And he's huge.

On Santana's right is Brittany, who's very sweet if a little bit stupid. Blaine likes talking to her, though, because it's refreshing. She's innocent—in certain ways, because Blaine's had to sit through a list of all the guys (and girls) she's been with. She and Santana keep tally—and nice to talk to, if you're interested in unicorns and leprechauns. Brittany is also convinced that Blaine is some sort of magical singing elf. Santana finds this endlessly amusing and won't help him convincer her otherwise.

Sam sits next to Finn, and Blaine's found that he likes Sam a lot. Mercedes sits on Sam's left. Blaine just found out that they've been together since Sam moved here in sophomore year. Mercedes is nice, but it's clear she's not too fond of Blaine. He hasn't exactly figured out why, yet, because Sam seems to have warmed up to him. They have tons of conversations about the best Harry Potter books, or which Star Wars movie was the worst—Blaine always argues the originals because Luke is hot, while Sam prefers the newer ones because of Padme. Mercedes always smiles and sometimes puts in her own opinion—even going as far as to agree with Blaine, because Luke is pretty hot—but she's always a little distant and never talks to Blaine directly.

Kurt Hummel sits directly across from Blaine, which is awkward because Kurt Hummel hates Blaine. For no particular reason. Blaine's tried to talk to him, but Kurt always stares at him until he looks away or stammers like an idiot for a few seconds. Santana always laughs at him. She's a terrible best friend. The thing is, Blaine isn't used to people not liking him. His mother always used to tell him that he has a kind of old charm—people are drawn to him. People like Blaine, and Blaine likes being liked. It's hard to have someone hate him so blatantly for no reason. It drives him crazy. Kurt Hummel drives him crazy.

The problem today is that Kurt's the only one sitting down at the table right now, so Blaine's going to be forced to sit in an awkward silence until one of their friends decides to show up. He doesn't even have the excuse of buying lunch. He trudges slowly towards the table, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to see if he can hear Sam's dorky laugh or Rachel's high-pitched whine, Finn's goofy grin or Brittany's vacant stare. No such luck. Gulping—and maybe it's a little dramatic, but Kurt scares him—Blaine sits down across from Kurt, who's busy picking at a salad with absolutely no dressing and two lone croutons. It doesn't even count as a salad. Kurt doesn't even look up, even though the slightest movement makes Blaine flinch.

He carefully lays his lunch out in front of him—a bottle of diet coke, half of an Italian hoagie and a bag of Doritos—and sags against his chair. He clears his throat a little too loudly, and Kurt glances up, eyebrows raised.

"Hello," Kurt says flatly.

"Hi," Blaine says, and then, "Thanks for the help today."

Kurt relaxes a little. "Don't mention it," and then takes a purposeful bite of his salad as if to say, this conversation is done, feel free to shut up now. Blaine does as he hasn't exactly been told.


Blaine likes glee club, he really does. Even if Quinn always pats his hand a little too hard, and Rachel's voice always ends up giving him a headache, and Kurt hates him. That's a big one. The good outweighs the bad, like when he and Santana try to harmonize and fail terribly, or when Mike tries to teach him some 'smooth moves' and he falls on his butt. Its fun, learning these new things, and learning them with people who love music just as much as he does. Blaine doesn't just like glee club—Blaine loves glee club.

But Blaine never realized how much drama glee club entails, until he sits through a very emotional rendition of Love Will Tear Us Apart when Lauren breaks up with Puck two days after finding out he's still in love with Quinn. Quinn, understandably, feels beyond weirded out. She doesn't exactly like Lauren, but she had no intention of being the reason her relationship with Puck ends. Blaine has no idea what happened between Quinn and Puck, but by everyone else's reaction he knows it's big. Though, by the way everyone is acting, Blaine thinks the world might explode in a few hours time.

After glee, Blaine approaches Lauren—since everyone's too busy either glaring at Quinn or consoling Puck—and says, "I'm really sorry, Lauren. I know this must be tough."

Lauren holds up a finger to silence him and says, "Thank, sugar, but I got this. My power? It's invulnerability. Know what that means?" Blaine opens his mouth to answer, but she cuts him off. "Means nothing hurts me. That power, it extends to my heart." She pauses and then shrugs, adding, "Puckerman wasn't that great of a kisser anyway." She turns to head down the hall, before turning back and giving him a small smile. "Thanks for the concern, kid. You're alright."


"God," Quinn moans, dropping her head in her arms. Blaine pats her arm sympathetically and slides a frappechino her way. She lifts her head and sniffs, before spotting the drink and grabbing it. She sends Blaine a grateful look and sticks the straw in her mouth miserably. "This sucks."

"Does it?" Blaine asks, nudging her foot with his playfully, "I think you guys would be kinda cute together."

Quinn flushes a bright red. "Don't," she whines miserably, "I was totally in love with him last year, it was pathetic."

Blaine raises both eyebrows. "What happened?"

Quinn flinches. "I was dating Finn."

"Oh," Blaine says, confused.

Quinn sighs, sipping slowly at her coffee. Blaine takes a long swing of his own, copying Quinn's sigh in a dramatic manner to make her laugh. She cracks a smile. "I'm gonna tell you something, okay? Because I trust you, Blaine, not to judge me," she frowns, "That, and I'd rather you find out from me than anyone else."

Blaine smiles encouragingly, and says, "You're my friend, Quinn. I'm here for you."

She takes a deep breath, stares at the table as she says, "Puck got me pregnant last year," Blaine shows no sign of emotion, so she continues, "It was a little girl. Her name was Beth. We gave her up for adoption, and it was probably the worst mistake of my life. We haven't really talked since then, and I thought he got over me," she gives a dry laugh; "I never really got over him."

Blaine reaches over and takes her hand. She tells him everything, right there in the Lima Bean, and Blaine listens with open ears. When she's finished, he says, "Still love you, Quinn," with a goofy smile, and when she hugs him a little too hard he doesn't say anything.


Blaine watches Lauren bounce through a happy rendition of The Best Damn Thing from his spot next to Quinn—who was right, by the way. Lauren can't sing, but he admires her confidence—and claps along with the rest of them when she finishes. (He maybe claps a little louder than everyone else, too.) Puck is looking sullen and sad in the corner. Finn sits dutifully next to him, and while Blaine can admire loyalty, he doesn't really understand their friendship. He doesn't think any less of Puck or Quinn, because teenagers do stupid things. He just doesn't get how Finn can just look past the fact that his best friend got his girlfriend pregnant. Blaine wouldn't have been so kind.

Blaine feels someone's eye on him, and he turns around to find Kurt glaring at the back of his head. Kurt doesn't look away, quite the contrary. He only continues to stare, until Blaine finally drops his gaze and looks away, wondering what the hell he did to make Kurt hate him so much.


"Hey, mom?"

"Yeah, hon."

"Can I sleep over Santana's on Friday?"

"…Santana's a girl?"

"Uh, yeah. But I'm gay, mom."

"Yes, yes, I know. But does she?"

"She has a girlfriend, mom."

"Oh. Well, alright then. Glad that you're making friend, sweetie."

"Me too."


end of chapter two.

things to look forward to in chapter three: sleepover at santana's house, yay! a secret talent of blaine's is discovered, and some more teachers are introduced. COUGH SUE. please review, thank you!