That had been the beginning of it. But certainly not the end. A month passed, bringing with it a series of similar, unpleasant incidents. One time, two of the guys had pounced upon his stuff after a lesson and strewn it across the classroom. The next day, evidently finding this completely hilarious, they had proceeded to repeat the act. All across the swimming pool. Mike's gym kit had been soaked though, meaning he'd had to borrow the slimy, unwashed clothes from the PE office. Needless to say, he'd recently taken to storing a second lot in his locker: just in case.

All these were just things though. Things, he could deal with. It was the constant stream of derogatory slang and ill concealed threats that got to him.

"Hey, Asian! Gay Asian!"

"Glee club spawn!"

"Better watch your back you piece of shit!"

"Faggot!"

"We'll see you tomorrow."

They all stung, to an extent, no matter how true or untruthful they were, but it was the last one that would always come back to haunt him. It would clatter though his thoughts in bed at night, an indication that this was not just a one time thing; this was a pattern. A relentlessness targeting of him. And it would not end.

Despite it all, there was still a tiny lingering piece of pride. It was almost as if, before, when he felt that sense of protection that came with being on the football team, he was still an outsider in Glee club. They were the ones that took the full battering, and he was just hiding in his red and white jacket. Now though, he was one of them. Part of it all, and proud of it.

He held his head up high in the corridors, tried twice as hard at his dancing and choreography, and pushed himself with his other subjects. He would be just as strong, just as brave, just as comfortable in his own shoes as his fellow Glee members. Mike smiled at the thought.

He didn't bring it up with anyone, because no one asked. After all, following the initial humiliation of the slushies and call outs, everyone else had just got on with life. It wasn't talked about anymore, but became an unspoken battle they all faced. Mike relished in the shared comradeship they possessed as a group- hell he may as well go all out right now and call them family. Even if it was just in his head.

"You alright Mike?" Asked Tina with a smile. "It's just, you're grinning kind of manically into thin air..."

"What? Oh. Right, nothing, Tina." He replied, only slightly embarrassed at being noticed. "Just, looking forward to sectionals."

"Me too. I can't wait to see what Mercedes has prepared for the solo's this week. Hey, Mercedes!" She turned to chat with her friend, and Mike was once again left to his musings, until Mr Shue burst into the room:

"Guys, I have a plan!"

...

He was cornered almost as soon as he left the school gates. His route took him to the left, down a couple of suburban streets, then a shortcut through an alleyway. It wasn't even a bad part of town, yet he wasn't surprised to find two of his chief tormentors smoking round the bend in the path. Their names were Mark Dangross and Callum Ross, and they were on the hockey team. They looked up as he walked towards them.

"Hey, Chang!" Called Dangross. "Fancy seeing you here. Cigarette?"

Mike didn't even pretend to kid himself that they were here by chance. It was too rehearsed. Nevertheless, he intended to make himself scarce as soon as possible.

"No thanks, I don't smoke," He said, as smoothly as he could.

"Have one anyway."

He took the cigarette. It hung loosely between his fingers, like it had always belonged there. The acrid scent made him feel nauseous.

They all stood in silence, and Mike wondering what their plan was; played along, he lifted the burning paper up to his mouth, pretending to breath in its grey smoke.

Ross moved to stand beside him against the brick wall, pulling his hood over his face, and Dangross chuckled. Mike was so focused on staring at his feet, that he barely saw the flash of movement as Dangross pulled something out of his pocket.

"Catch Chang!" He flung some sort of small package over, which Mike instinctively caught, fumbling with his grasp. The second his fingers curled around the plastic bag, he knew he'd made an awful, horrible mistake. He heard the click, click of a camera shutter, and watched in horror as Dangross lowered his phone. He dropped the cigarette.

"My, my... Chang. Didn't think you had it in you!" He drawled. Mike felt his palms go sweaty, and he looked down at the bag in his hands. It was clear, and contained some kind of white powder.

"What have you done?" He spluttered. Dangross and Ross just grinned, looking like identical leering demons from the depths of hell.

"I think the question, Chang, is what have you been doing? Don't think your father will be too happy with your behaviour."

"Yeah," Agreed Ross, "We've seen him strut about the school in his stupid suit. You think he'll still be proud of you if these photos leak?"

It suddenly dawned on him what they'd done. The photographs. All it would look like to anyone else was a picture of Mike and some hooded figure, smoking cigarettes with him holding a suspicious bag, which looked a lot like... drugs.

If those got out...

His friends. His mother... His father. No. He wouldn't be able to talk himself out of this. What if they believed the lies in the pictures? What if he was kicked out? It killed him inside to admit it, but it wasn't a notion that his father would not consider.

"Please..." He whispered, pathetically clutching the drugs. His hands were trembling with nerves. All the fear, the hurt, the anticipation of the past month was nothing. Nothing, compared to this.

"You belong to us now, Asian." Snarled Dangross. "You do what we tell you to."

He ripped the bag from Mike's hands, tearing it open and pouring the powder over Mike's hair and face. He scrunched his eyes shut as it blew into his nose and mouth, making him cough, spluttering.

"For the record, that's flour." Said Ross. They shoved into him as they left, leaving him gasping in panic in the alleyway.