A/N:
I don't really get why everyone makes Blaine's middle name Devon and his dad's name that typically, but I'm doing it!
I'm so sorry for the very late update and I know being busy is a terrible excuse but it's true! I graduated from high school this year so I was busy my last couple months of school when I started this story. I am honestly not proud of this chapter but I hope you enjoy, it's just a filler and some character introduction.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee nor do I own its characters.
Warning: Inappropriate Comments, Language, drug reference, homophobic slurs
Home at last. Kurt enthusiastically dropped his satchel at the front door and headed for his room. His dad, Burt, stopped him before he made it though, he took his enthusiasm of being home as one meaning that he was fitting in well at school. Ha, yeah right.
"Slow down tiger, how was your first day?" He asked extending an arm so he couldn't get by.
"Fine." Kurt answered as if he was a machine.
Burt gave him a look. "Could you be a bit more specific? And- is that blood in your hair!?" He asked frantically grabbing a piece of his hair that was clumped with red dye from the slushy.
"Oh, no! Red dye number five actually." Kurt said the last part under his breath.
"And may I ask what it is?" Burt studied him questionably.
Kurt huffed, he knew he wasn't getting out of this one. Him and his dad were always completely honest with each other, they're all each other had after all.
"Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I got a slushy thrown at me." Kurt looked down at his feet.
"Wha- is that like code for something?"
Kurt sighed, "No, an actual slushy was thrown on me. Like the one with ice in it."
He seemed to finally understand what he was saying. "Are they giving you a hard time? I knew I should have just came up with the money to send you to private school, I don't want a repeat of last year. I can't-"
"Dad, stop. You're rambling, I'm fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I really would like to go to my room and work on some homework."
His dad gave him a nod and put his arm down, Kurt thankfully passed by him and went up the stairs swiftly.
"I expect you to join me for dinner!" Burt then turned away and went back to the living room.
He removed his signature baseball cap and rubbed his head. "Elizabeth, what am I going to do with this child?"
Blaine parked his motorcycle outside of his 'house' and got ready for the sight of his (most likely) drunk father sitting in his own piss and his mom high somewhere.
He never felt the urge to call it a home. Because it wasn't. No, this was a prison. He always had to use air quotes while saying the word, it felt funny on his tongue. And it's funny because it wasn't always like this, not really. He had the 'normal' family up until he was thirteen. The stay at home mom who waited for you on the front porch to come home and tell you all about your day, the hard-working father who came home and swung you around a bit and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek... that was four years ago. Most people would be asking, "what went wrong?" well if he recalls it right, his father lost his job. Devon Anderson was the CEO of a major law company before he made a few (gambling) mistakes and ruined his career and his family's life. Now they're living off of Devon's parents inherits. Of course they had to down grade from their perfect two-story five bedroom house. Such a big house for such a small family. Well, now they live in a one-story two bedroom 'house' with the shower that gets cold when you flush the toilet and dry walls. The perfect house for the perfect family.
Blaine avoided coming home as much as possible but somebody had to check if his parents hadn't drunk themselves into a coma or died of an overdose yet. He just had to grab his guitar and his work clothes and check on his parents quickly.
He opened the unlocked door and stepped in. A strong smell hitting his nose.
"Dammit, dad!" He went into the kitchen and sure enough, his dad was sleeping sitting in a bar stool. His body was hunched over the counter, face down, bottle of brandy in hand, piss on floor. A beautiful site.
Blaine cleaned up the urine quickly and poured a bucket of cold water and threw it on his dad.
"Wha- Blaine!" He yelled obviously irritated.
"Congratulations, you wet yourself again! Where's mom?" He asked, grabbing a granola bar.
"Little faggot." He said.
Blaine huffed. "Fine, I won't clean up your shit next time and let your ass wrought in it."
The empty bottle of brandy was thrown at him and he dodged it easily. He found his mom sitting on the back porch.
His mother, Melissa, was sitting just staring into the distance. Her eyes had red rings on them and were purple and baggy underneath from lack of sleep. Her nose was red and it was obvious she had cried, she was huddled up.
"Mom? What's wrong?" Blaine asked, taking tentative steps towards her. He didn't like her like this, it scared him and it took a lot to scare Blaine.
Her face was still staring straight ahead, her eyes not even blinking as she answered. "Blaine, have you ever wondered where everything went? I had the perfect husband, the perfect son, the perfect life..." She trailed off and her voice got choked.
"Mom... did you take your pills this morning?" He asked carefully. His mom needed to take depression pills or she got like this. Even if she usually did abuse them.
Suddenly she popped up and stood up tall to Blaine. He was of course, taller than his small, Philippino mother but the way she looked was threatening.
She raised a finger to him and poked him in the chest. "You think you're better than me?!" She accused.
Blaine held his hands up in surrender and was prepared to leave. He really didn't want to fight with his mother.
"I'm gonna g-" Blaine began.
"No! You are not better than me! You are just some troubled, queer, teenager so don't you dare walk around my house and tell me that I need pills! You need pills!" She yelled.
Blaine then ran back to his room quickly and grabbed his old guitar which was in a case and grabbed his duffel bag.
He ran out the front door and put the guitar case on his back and put the duffel bag around his chest and shoulder. He hopped on his motorcycle and drove away, his mother and father both slurring cuss words at him and a bottle being thrown his way.
He smirked, wasn't he popular today?
Wesley Montgomery awaited for Blaine to come to work his shift. He was once again late for his shift and fuck if he was going to cover for him again.
A little girl was giving him a death stare with her little guitar in hand. She was waiting for Blaine to come to give her the weekly scheduled practice her parents paid for.
"I can give you the lessons-" Wes tried, his pierced eyebrow raising in question.
"No! I want Blaine, Blaine only!" She stomped her little feet on the floor and Wes raised his hands in surrender.
"Oka-aayy." He drew out and took some steps back. Girls were scary, and Wes would swear to whatever the fuck watched over him that they could smell his fear. Blaine better hurry his ass up.
Blaine ran into the room with his guitar in hand and still pulling his 'Montgomery Music' shirt down as if he had just changed.
"Blaine!" The little girl squealed and ran to him to hug him.
"Hi Sophie! Sorry I was late." He apologised and hugged her. "So, have you been practicing?"
"Yes!" She replied excitedly.
"Good, now wait back in the practice room and I will be back there in a minute. Practice your E major scale." Blaine said and she gathered up her red guitar case with little red ladybugs stickers on it and skipped back to the room.
"My dad's pissed with you." Wes said.
Blaine sighed and went behind the counter to grab some things.
"I was only a few minutes late, I'm sure he'll be fine." Blaine replied and the soft strum of a guitar was heard in the distance.
"You're lucky he likes you or you would be out a job."
"Okay Wesley." Blaine smirked and ran back to the room.
Wes had been Blaine's friend since he was about seven. He had many piercings and no tattoo's, he never liked them too much but he loved piercings and usually pierced himself or Blaine. His dad owns the music shop they work at and they're pretty close.
He had Blaine's back through everything, and Blaine had some pretty bad days. It wasn't like they had sleepover's and braided each other's hair and watched 'Twilight' together sort of friendship, they just knew when the other was hurting.
And to clarify, Wes isn't gay, he's just not very subtle with his sexuality if that made any sense. He wasn't afraid to talk about Blaine's sexuality and maybe had kissed him once at a party that involved lots of beer.
Blaine was on the rocks lately, not only had he been involved with some pretty nasty things, but he was starting to not act like 'Blaine' anymore. Which had him thinking...
The bell indicating someone had walked through the door sounded.
Wes shook his head to clear himself of thoughts as a boy with a broken instrument walked in. He couldn't keep worrying about Blaine, he had a tuba to fix.
The next day of school was positively hell for Kurt. Not only had he had to deal with douche bullies, but he also had to deal with a certain someone kicking at the back of his seat like you might see a child do on a plane. He tried to ignore it, he really did.
"Don't give into that pestering, obnoxious, rude, immature boy!" He reminded himself repeatedly.
"What's wrong Kurt?" Blaine asked (still kicking his chair!) as innocently as possible with that stupid, pretty smirk.
Kurt simply flipped him off like he had always done. Kurt would admit that if he didn't find Blaine annoying and obnoxious, he might be a tiny bit attractive. But of course he would never say that to Blaine's face. God, the satisfaction on the façade of a bad boys face would be impossible not to notice.
Kurt had already been thrown in the dumpster and he was about an inch close to kicking Blaine in the balls.
Kurt whipped around and whispered as harshly as he could, "Kick my chair one more time and I will kick your balls so hard you won't be able to produce babies!"
Blaine looked stunned but quickly maintained his façade. He put his feet down and looked at Kurt.
"Ooh, put your claws away Hummel. I was only kidding." He raised his hands in surrender.
Kurt contemplated the urge to hiss but decided not to and got back to work.
The bell rang and Kurt got up, Blaine following.
"Hey, wait up Kurt! How about you, me, bleachers at lunch?"
Kurt scoffed. "Are you kidding me? I don't really want anything to do with you and this act you have."
"I don't know what 'act' you're referring to, but whatever." He lied smoothly. "And you said you 'don't really' which means there's still a chance?" He said hopefully.
Kurt turned around, books from the previous class in hand.
"Get yourself together, and then maybe we can talk." He called back, leaving Blaine thinking.
Damn his sass.
A/N:
So thanks for reading and I promise the next chapter with be more exciting. I might use some of your idea's!
Be sure to share your thoughts and I'll see you next time!