Chapter one: Teenage Dream
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It took Blaine less than a second to shut off his alarm. He had, in fact, been awake for almost an hour, just staring at the clock. After he had turned the alarm off, he jumped from the bed and grabbed his jogging gear that he had left out on his chair the night before – a pair of shorts and a tank top and trainers. Blaine picked up his iPod, locating the playlist he made for his jog whilst throwing on his clothes and then headed out. He had been jogging for over a year now and it was only natural for him to have gotten quicker to get ready. There was no real need for the alarm as Blaine's body became accustomed to waking up early, but Blaine liked the security of the routine, and would never get out of bed before the alarm would go off.
The run took him forty-five minutes, he would completely zone out now, knowing the routine like the back of his hand. Now and then, he was awakened as a car may suddenly appear, but he had grown accustomed to seeing in the dim lighting of Westerville. At first, he had been scared, worrying about seeing the guys who had landed him in hospital, but now he was ready for them. His boxing made him feel more prepared, though he would never start the fight. His running made him more agile and his brain worked better. At least that's what he told himself. He wasn't fully paying attention to his body, no longer making time for food his brain was struggling on few nutrients, the fresh air and Blaine's stubbornness kept it going enough to get through the school day. That and energy drinks but he was trying to cut back after he read the label and saw the amount of calories.
When he turned back into his driveway he slowed down, getting out his key and letting himself in. The trainers would be left at the bottom of the stairs as he moved up to the bathroom, where he had already had a towel and his underwear ready to change into just in case his father had an early shift and caught him rushing from the bathroom to his bedroom. He stepped into the shower, first starting with warm water to wash into his skin, humming quietly to himself, as he made sure everything was clean. He focussed on his hair, knowing he had to treat it well to make up for the gelling he put it through. Sometimes he would also shave but he wasn't someone who frequently needed to shave and today was a day when he didn't have to. He ended the shower by turning it cold. He had started doing this about six months ago, having found the warm shower negated the effect of the run. His body was startled awake again and at 5.59 he turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping the towel around himself.
He dried himself off, moving into his uniform slowly. He had to towel dry his hair because his parents would kill him for using a hairdryer this early. Their work patterns were erratic and unpredictable; sometimes they were out all night and had to sleep for a few hours before working again the next day. He wished he saw them more, but he understood why he couldn't. His hair was then gelled with a side parting, he was proud of the school he went to and he was going to make sure he always looked proper to reflect that of the school. He brushed down his blazer, his eyes on himself in the mirror. He smiled softly, the navy and red made him feel comfortable, though he still couldn't help but see how his arms still didn't have enough muscle in them, how his stomach seemed to be pressed against his waistband. He shook himself, closing the closet door and he moved down the stairs, tidying his shoes away and putting his jogging stuff in the wash.
His timetable was on the fridge and he collected the right books from the study, humming his scales that he needed for the songs they were playing today. As impromptu as their performance seemed, they had already prepared what song and he wasn't going to let the fact it was supposed to be a surprise stop him from practising. He packed some water into his bag; he drank a few bottles just to keep his throat from getting dry and affecting his voice. He slipped in his boxing things ready for his training straight after school and then he glanced at the time. He was getting quicker in preparing for the day and his schedule shifted to the point he had to fill the time with something else before he left for school. Today he filled that time with catching up on some reading he had neglected, sat on the window seat with his shoes on as he waited for his alarm on his watch the sound to signal the time he left for school.
He was driven in by Wes, who put on their favourite radio station and they sang on the way, some of the other Warblers with him who couldn't drive themselves. Blaine had always felt more secure with older people, safer, in the Warblers he wasn't just a sophomore, and his age didn't bother them, only his talent and personality. He was happy with them because they respected him and, honestly, he loved that many admired him. But it took a lot of work to be admired, to be this good. Sometimes he was aware he was tired, but rather than deal with it, he would knock back another energy drink or go hang out with the Warblers because they always gave him a burst of energy. Unfortunately he couldn't break into song in the middle of English or history that morning, as much as the Warblers were the 'Rock stars' of Dalton, they still had to study. But just after morning break, they were due their impromptu performance.
Blaine counted his steps from the classroom, humming the tune preparing himself for the performance as he moved past the stairs and then he heard an unfamiliar voice, "Oh, excuse me. Um, hi. Can I ask you a question? I'm new here." It was a light, higher voice, not quite enough to mistake for a female but close. Blaine lost count as he turned to look to the man and then he paused, taking him in. This was not what he expected today. He paused, swallowing,
"My name's Blaine." He said, giving a warm smile. He knew what it was like to be new, how the halls and all the guys could seem daunting. The conversation was rushed as Blaine was running late. Without thinking, he took his hand and led Kurt the short way to the choir room. Kurt seemed anxious, worrying about not fitting in. Blaine tried to ease it, joking about the absence of his blazer but then the rest of the group started the tune and he couldn't hang around when he was singing the lead vocals.
It was soon apparent that Kurt wasn't a member of the school but a spy for the New Directions in McKinley. Blaine couldn't help but feel sorry for Kurt and he wanted to help him; something about him reminded him of himself and it soon came apparent when Wes, David, Blaine and Kurt sat down for coffee to sort things out. Kurt got emotional and it broke Blaine's heart, reminding him of his last school, the fight and everything but this was his time to show how he had moved on so Kurt knew he could move on too. He asked for room, wanting to talk to Kurt alone. Blaine had always regretted that he had ran, even when the choice was made for him. Sometimes, even now, he sat in front of his old school whilst he knew everyone was studying, wanting to go in there and prove what he had become. But he was too scared, he didn't want Kurt to have the same regrets as him, even if he was older.
Sending Kurt away was hard and plagued on Blaine's mind for the rest of the day. For all he knew, he would never see the teenager again; the boy could end up like him or succeed in fighting his bully. He had given Kurt his number, just in case. He didn't know if the boy was going to use it, he just wanted to be given the chance to be there for someone as he wished he had someone there for him. Jamie had been the only other gay guy in his school, barely older than himself and they did very little to really help each other. The rest of the day soon slotted back into place, he practised with the Warblers after school, though still checking his phone to see if Kurt had contacted him. When he got home, he went straight for his books, muscles aching from the boxing. It was harder to focus than normal, Blaine's energy low. He only noticed now that he hadn't eaten anything today, but that just made him smile, he was bound to have lost weight.
Blaine didn't realise that losing weight didn't automatically mean he was getting fitter. He wasn't consciously aware that he was starving his body and muscles couldn't form because he was taking all the energy he could from what he had just to keep his body going. It had become an obsession, first it had been to have a healthy diet to train, but soon he was left to his own devices and food was replaced with more training and work to the point he barely ate once a day. His parents barely saw him, unable to control what their son was eating. At Dalton, he did get a few hints to eat more that he would say he ate a large breakfast or eats only at home. Anorexia wasn't really something people associated with boys and as much as his friends wanted to help, they weren't sure if it was what they thought.
It was during his lunch time rehearsals a few days later that Blaine heard from Kurt. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he excused himself to answer the phone. Kurt sounded distressed, hurt and Blaine didn't even hesitate in travelling to Lima to see him the next day. He was told about how Kurt's bully had kissed him and Blaine listened as Kurt talked quickly, leading the way before he faced Karofsky. The guy was bigger than Blaine envisioned, he tried to be reasonable, and as much as he wanted to prove himself, he was better than them. When Karofsky pushed him again the gate, Blaine saw a flash of a memory. He held his hands up, taking a deep breath to show he wasn't going to fight back before he was left feeling a little downhearted.
"Well, he won't be coming out anytime soon," he commented, feeling his heart race before he realised Kurt had gone pale, moving to sit down. Kurt seemed so small, Blaine was so ashamed to admit that it made him feel good, to be the one protecting rather than protected as he moved beside him. He sighed, hearing how it had been Kurt's first and he squeezed his knee, offering him lunch to cheer him up. Kurt was so distressed at that point, he didn't really pay attention to the fact Blaine just had a coffee and never touched the sandwich he had bought. Kurt barely ate himself, shaken by the events of the day and he just needed someone to listen because the school didn't seem to care. When Blaine got home that night, he skipped the homework and just fell into his bed, his phone left on just in case Kurt needed him. He hated what the boy was going through but he loved being needed and now he had something else to drive him to improve himself.