*guilty cough*.
soooo...i know its been a while, and i am really, really sorry. i fully blame my lack of updating on exams, as they are thouroughly kicking my ass and i really need to ace them if i want to get into Cambridge after colledge. O.O i completely understand if i have lost several readers, but i really hope that most of you guys have stuck with me. i fully intend to complete this fic, but updastes will be staggered for the next two months, minimum :S SORRY.
I'll let you get your reading on now, and i know i probably don't deserve it but if you could review that would make my day as i don't really like this chap and would like to know what you think :) love all you lovely readers who have waited for me XD 3
LET THE STORY finally COMMENCE.
Chapter four
Blaine allowed the wooden door to swing closed with a quiet click, turning and pressing his forehead to the cool, almost smooth surface. He could feel his breath reflecting back towards him as he squeezed his eyes closed and breathed deeply.
Through the wall he could hear the Schuesters talking quietly to one another; the scrape of a chair and clatter of plates as the table was cleared.
He didn't know if he could do this. There was far too much at stake.
The way the puzzlingly kind woman and oddly caring man looked at him baffled him to no end.
What was their angle?
He had no doubt that they must be in this together, but what for? He didn't inherit anything from his mother until he was eighteen. There was no way...that man would have anything to do with him after he served his time. Between social services and his own prejudices, Blaine wouldn't be surprised if he never saw the man again. And he certainly wouldn't complain if he never did.
No, they couldn't be after money. Why not just adopt him and get it all straight away if that was the case?
Blaine frowned; the metal in his eyebrow catching slightly on the grooved surface his brow was still pressed against.
That was yet another thing he didn't get. Why hadn't they adopted him? He supposed it was because they didn't want to have to deal with him longer then they needed to... They could bask in all the attention his presence would surely bring for as long as they wanted, and only put up with him until he turned eighteen. He was only seventeen by mere days, having a late August birthday. That left less than a year until they could kick him out on his ass.
The curly haired teen felt a sudden, unexpected pang in his chest as his mind supplied images of the immanent day.
Him, stood at the side of the road with nothing but his backpack and guitar once again. Having to live on the streets, busking for money so that he could afford to eat... Sleeping on park benches, shuffling to the shelter of trees when it rained. Finally having his throat cut as he slept in the open for his few possessions.
Blaine pushed himself away from the door and shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He knew he was being melodramatic, but he couldn't help it. People were so unpredictable, so blinded by their own values and wants that they would stop at nothing to achieve them. Wouldn't hesitate to do what they deemed necessary, consequences for others be damned. Even if the person stood in the way was their friend of years. Or even their own son.
Blaine had far too much experience when it came to ignorance and 'morals'.
He had lost count of the number people that had been close to him, only to turn their backs in preservation of their appearances and social standing.
Who does that?
Apparently, everyone.
Blaine let out a huffing breath and dropped his hands to survey his 'room'. It was simple, but held a homey feel that left Blaine crawling on the inside. He was done with homes.
The plain, sunshine yellow walls were supposedly meant to give the illusion of cheerfulness, but all Blaine could see was cruel irony. Let's paint the walls of our inevitably damaged adopted child's bedroom sickeningly happy, so that we can remind them how miserable they are inside ALL of the time. He knew he wasn't being fair, but honestly he couldn't care less. When had life ever been fair?
He crossed the room and pulled a pair of sweatpants from the dresser draws beneath the small window, discarding his jeans, hoodie and V-neck into the hamper by the desk after he swapped them for the sweats.
He allowed his hand to trail briefly over the scars down his left side as he made his way over to the bed. The still pink, slightly puckered lines started at his shoulder and criss-crossed down his tan skin. They became more and more spread out as they reached his forearm; the worst and most of them were at his shoulder and outer bicep.
He supposed that's what would happen if one were thrown through a glass table.
There were a few scars across his ribs on that side, but most of those were from the surgery. The same couldn't be said for the few on his hip and upper thigh and especially not the ones on his face, though.
Blaine considered wearing a tank to McKinley tomorrow. It was still warm enough outside, and hopefully people would leave him alone if they saw his scars. He decided he could deal with the staring if peace was the consequence.
Deciding to skip brushing tonight, as he really couldn't be bothered, he set his alarm and flopped into bed; pulling the pale sheets up his chest.
He knew tomorrow was going to be tough, but he was determined not to let it get to him. He wouldn't allow the same of the students, either.
They wouldn't know what hit them when Blaine Anderson walked through those doors in the morning. He was done being pushed around and taken advantage of.
As he felt himself being lulled to sleep, he promised himself that no one at that school would ever meet the real Blaine. The real Blaine was obviously not right for this world, never mind Ohio. He doubted there'd be anyone to meet him anyway. This was Lima, for Christ's sake.
Oddly enough, before he was pulled under completely, the most beautiful flash of blue swirled with green stood out against his consciousness and rippled through his dreams that night; only to be forgotten by morning.
~o0o~
Kurt groaned and opened his eyes blearily as his hand flopped around in search of his alarm. The incessant beeping filled the room and grated on Kurt's every nerve before he finally managed to silence it with an ungraceful thunk.
Stretching his arms and sighing at the satisfying pop that awarded his actions, the stylish teen glanced at the time flashing beside his head.
6.30am.
blech. The sacrifices I make for my skin.
Kurt heaved his body out of bed and made his way towards the bathroom, shuffling his feet as he went. Kurt Hummel was not a morning person. At least not until he had had some caffeine.
As he turned on the shower, Kurt began mentally prepping himself for the day.
Yesterday had been void of locker shoves and slushies, and few slurs were thrown his way, but Kurt put that down to Monday/start of the year blues. There was no doubt in his mind that today the Jocks would be laying it on thick. Especially as it was senior year. They wouldn't want to miss this opportunity to show who's 'boss' once and for all.
Kurt snorted, almost accidentally inhaling a stream of shower water as he did.
Yeah, right. Like they could ever be the boss of me. We'll see whose boss when they're picking up empty popcorn buckets after my Broadway début.
Because if Kurt Hummel was sure of one thing, it was that one day, when he finally escaped Ohio for good, he would be a Broadway star. It was just a matter of making it through one final year of high school before he could leave for college in New York.
And maybe also pushing Rachel Berry down a flight of stairs, but he'd tackle that when he got to it.
For now, Kurt was simply going to finish getting ready and head to school where he would keep his head down until Glee club this afternoon.
Oh, and maybe put 'Operation befriend Blaine Anderson' into place as he did. Kurt was confident that the likes of the Football team wouldn't dare mess with someone so well known, so his plan to wiggle into Blaine's life would hopefully be beneficial to the both of them. 'Hopefully' being the operative word.
Ignoring the feeling that accompanied his thoughts straying to those Hazel eyes, Kurt geared himself up to face McKinley high for another day.
~o0o~
The weather seemed to be on Blaine's side as Will pulled into the parking lot of McKinley.
It was ridiculously hot for a day in early September, so the teen was able to follow his plans and wear a tight black tank to school. He had teamed it with his scruffiest jeans – a loose (but not too loose) blue denim pair of skinnies that had rips in the knees and hung low on his hips – his hot pink converse from the day before, and a pair of hot pink shades.
Even he wouldn't mess with him. The clothes along with his scars and piercings should ensure that no one would try to pick a fight today.
As the car shuddered to a halt, Emma turned to look at Blaine in the backseat from her spot in the front,
'Are you ok, B?' she asked. Once again, Blaine could see the sincerity in her eyes as she tactfully avoided using his name. Not that he was bothered. He honestly didn't have the energy to be sentimental or whatever about his identity – and was already mostly over what had happened in the choir room, so Blaine he was. He had learned the hard way that it doesn't do to dwell.
Blaine appraised her a moment before answering. Anyone would think that she genuinely cared, but Blaine knew better. It was just part of the act.
Instead of giving her the vocal answer he knew she wanted, something Blaine would usually instinctively do, the curly haired teen averted his gaze to look out the window and nodded shortly. There were a number of students in the lot, enjoying the sunshine with their friends by their cars before the school day began. He could see one of the girls from yesterday-Tina, he thought her name was- stood with the dark skinned girl from the choir room not far away. Both were shooting glances at the Schuesters' car, and Blaine sighed quietly. It was going to be a long day.
Will opened his car door and got out, hoisting a heavy file into his arms before he made his way around to open Emma's door for her.
Blaine steeled himself with a deep breath before he, too, pushed his door open. He did not look up until he had shut the door and swung his backpack onto one of his shoulders, keeping a grip on the strap.
His gaze scanned the lot.
The two girls he had seen earlier were making their way over, both with timid but friendly smiles on their faces. A few other people nearby were glancing his way and whispering to their friends, but Blaine ignored them. His sunglasses were in place, so it was probably only the customary 'New Kid' whispers. Probably.
He felt Will's hand come down on his shoulder as the girls reached them, and fought the urge to shrug it off.
'Hey, kids,' he said to them, shooting them a strained smile. 'Thanks for your help. Emma and I really need to head to the staff briefing, so if you could give Blaine some company and maybe show him around, that would be great.'
Blaine frowned slightly as he heard this. Had they seriously assigned him babysitters for the day?
The girls both nodded, sending nervous smiles Blaine's way. He supposed it was because he didn't exactly look like a bucket full of sunshine, but didn't dwell on the fact and decided to just smile back.
They looked relieved by this, and he was glad. He didn't want to terrorize perfectly friendly people on his first day. Especially not two who seemed willing to help him out a bit even if it was unnecessary.
'Sure thing, Mr Schue. We'll take it from here.' The bigger girl turned to him and stuck her hand out, her eyes quickly taking in his scars. 'I'm Mercedes. It's nice to meet you.' Her words were accompanied by a warm smile, and Blaine only briefly hesitated before he grasped her offered hand.
'Blaine.' He replied shortly, but gave a smile in return. It quickly morphed into a slight smirk as he saw the way her dark cheeks flushed. Maybe it would be easier to act the part than he had initially thought.
He kept her hand slightly longer than necessary, her blush darkening, before letting go and turning to the pretty Asian.
'And I'm Tina.' She smiled. Her voice was kind and sweet, and was completely at odds with her gothic looking summer dress.
Yet again, Blaine found himself being instantly drawn to someone.
How were these people doing this? There was something about the girl that he instantly liked. This was the second time that had happened since he'd left the children's home, and both times it had been a small, friendly woman. Blaine decided he wouldn't think about that, but realised he had missed the opening to introduce himself. Smooth.
Tina didn't seem bothered at all, though. Instead, she simply looped her arm through his – ignoring what must be his obvious surprise – and began to pull him towards the school's entrance.
Several heads turned as they passed through the thicker swarms of students, and Blaine started to feel uneasy. It had hit him that there was an obvious flaw in his 'stares but peace' plan. His scars seemed to be attracting a lot of attention, and people were starting to do more than purely look at him and then move on. Some were going so far as to completely stop and openly whisper to their friends, some even deliberately walking to a space where they could see him.
Blaine felt his hands start to become clammy as they climbed the stairs into the school, Mercedes walking along on his other side. Being hidden away in that home for six months had sheltered Blaine more than he had realised. He had been deliberately placed with younger children because there was less chance they would know anything about him, and therefore would be unable to harass or torment him. While it had seemed like a pain at the time, being surrounded by kids no older than ten, Blaine now appreciated what a clever move that had been. Especially now he was faced with a building full of the exact age group that would know everything, and that would undoubtedly use it to their advantage.
Simply and eloquently put, he was scared shitless.
Blaine had never had to deal with bullies, beside the obvious exception, but he realised as Tina dragged him through a sparsely populated hallway that he was going to have to learn.
And fast.
The loud, echoing slam of a body colliding hard with a set of metal lockers only served to prove him right.
~o0o~
There was absolutely no doubt what so ever in Kurt's mind that the universe was working against him in epic proportions.
It just didn't want him to have a good day.
It was September, for Hells sake. Why did he have to deal with the burden of wearing sun cream in September? Not only did it take time out of his morning – so that he was unable to run to the Lima Bean before school – but it also threatened the delicate balance of his skin. There was going to have to be a major exfoliating session tonight.
Then again, that really wasn't anything new. It actually happened rather regularly due to all the Slushies flying his way, but that didn't stop it being a pain in the ass.
Needless to say, the fashionista was in quite a bad mood when he reached his locker with about ten minutes to spare before classes started.
However, when he glimpsed the photos plastered to the inside of his locker door his mood lifted slightly. There was everything from professional photos from his dad and Carols wedding, to goofy glee club photos and a picture of his biological mother. His eyes lingered on her for a moment as a feeling of slight guilt settled in his stomach. He really shouldn't be in a mood like he was. It took only one glimpse of his mothers face to remind him that he was lucky. That he had things some people could only dream of.
Once again, as Kurt collected his books for AP English and Home economics, he found his thoughts drifting to Blaine. He absently wondered if he had arrived yet...
'KURT!'
The shout jolted the teen from his thoughts, and he scrambled not to drop his books in shock.
'Rachel! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?' he admonished the bouncing girl, who had appeared suddenly out of nowhere.
'You had to tell me seven times yesterday.' She stated rather proudly, before one look at Kurt's unimpressed gaze wilted her smile slightly. 'That was a rhetorical question, wasn't it?'
Sometimes Kurt wondered if the girl actually existed in the same universe as the rest of them.
He chose not to answer, instead turning to shut his locker and adjusting the bag on his shoulder.
'Is there a reason you're co-inhabiting my bubble right now, Rachel?'
And just like that, she was bouncing and grinning again in her knee high socks and dolly shoes.
'Yes! Have you seen him yet? Blaine, I mean. I can't wait to put our plan into action and have a proper conversation with him...hopefully he's seen the latest rendition of 'The Phantom Of The Opera', you know, the one that was on at the Royal Albert Hall not long ago-' she had clapped her hands together in typical Rachel Berry style before Kurt cut her off.
'I highly doubt the Children's Home he was in offered much opportunity to watch the opera.' He stated dryly. As Rachel had been speaking, he had been worried that he had let his plan slip to her before he remembered that the whole Glee club had a similar one.
He was just opening his mouth to inform her that she might want to tone it down a little when she did see Blaine, when suddenly he was flying sideways and his books were spinning out across the hall. He heard the brutal BANG before he felt the impact, but when it hit it flared painfully up through his shoulder and into his head and neck. Unable to catch himself, he fell to the floor in a crumpled heap before the black spots faded from his vision.
He was vaguely aware that Rachel was shouting something, and that someone was beginning to crouch beside him, but he couldn't properly hear them over the ringing in his ears.
'Kurt?'
It felt like it was coming from a million miles away; but as the pressure of someone's hand on his uninjured shoulder seemed to become more real, Kurt found himself snapping out of his daze slightly and looking into a pair of worried, chocolate brown eyes.
Rachel.
He shook his head slightly to clear it, but immediately regretted the action as what felt like white hot fire flamed along his right side.
Fuck, that hurt Kurt thought through gritted teeth.
He began to struggle into a sitting position, Rachel shifting away from him slightly to give him more space as the shadows of three more people fell across him.
'Boo! What happened?'
'Kurt? Are you hurt? What's going on?'
That was undoubtedly Mercedes and Tina, and Kurt felt his rising embarrassment at being on the floor, not quite able to get up, lessen slightly as he recognized his friends' voices.
That was, until, he felt a pair of warm, strong, unfamiliar hands slide gently under his arms and lift him carefully to his feet.
He was suddenly surrounded by the intoxicating smell of vanilla, and a fresh scent that reminded him of when he was eight, going out to pick up a Christmas tree with his mom and dad.
The hands remained braced either side of Kurt's chest as he struggled to collect himself, the heat of the other person stood so close to him and the comforting press of their calloused hands making it a little easier.
Slightly slumped as he was, Kurt found his eyes trailing up one of the muscular, tan arms attached to whoever was holding him up, following it down to where it met a bare, scarred shoulder.
His breath hitched as he came to the realisation of who his saviour must be.
Slowly, Kurt lifted his gaze; glimpsing a flash of hot pink at the neck of a black tank top out of the corner of his eye.
A strong jaw line, more linear ghosts of injury, a pair of plump, soft looking lips, a straight nose, and Kurt found himself lost in pools of vivid hazel and green.
He thought he might have stopped breathing completely as those eyes bore into his own. The eyes he had found himself thinking about more than once since yesterday; the eyes now seemingly glowing with concern and genuine warmth.
Long, thick black eyelashes gently brushed his cheeks as he blinked up slightly at Kurt.
Then warm, deliciously minty breath ghosted over Kurt's face as he was enveloped in the rich, quiet tone of Blaine Anderson's voice.
'Are you alright?'
so what do we think? too crap? marginally shocking but acceptable? 0_o i wish my sock drawer was big enough to curl up in and sleep in for days.
URGH.
Kj xx