A quick warning:

This is where the story takes the turn that actually originated the story. It revolves around something unfortunate that lamentably still happens in our society. I don't want to spoil it, but you should know that *SPOILER ALERT* this chapter contains a bit of violence against gays. *SPOILER END*. If you don't like that, you shouldn't read this chapter. Or the next one. But then you won't know what happened.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. FOX and Ryan Murphy do.

Blackened blue eyes

-by HappyValentina

As if to demonstrate just how true Kurt's words have been, the very next day, just before the first bell rang, Kurt and Blaine were walking down the hallway toward Geometry, when three members of the football team passed them, each tossed a slushy into their faces, and walked off.

The boys froze in the spot, gasping for breath, the wind knocked out of their lungs by the intense cold.

Sue Sylvester was coming out of her office just then, and she saw most of it. Holding up her megaphone, she blew her whistle and called out the names of the three football players and marched them straight into Figgins' office to give them detention.

Kurt and Blaine, with chunks of blue ice falling from their faces, looked at each other in resignation, then down at their stained clothes.

"Are you all right?" Blaine asked.

"I'm fine. You?"

"Could be better."

As Blaine brushed the remainder of the liquid off, Kurt looked around embarrassed, at the ogling eyes of the students who stopped to watch. Some giggled, as always, some looked concerned, and others just continued on their way, pretending they hadn't seen anything.

Far down the hall he spotted Dave Karofsky, mouth slightly agape, and Kurt met his eyes. There was a silent exchange between them. Kurt suddenly felt like he was trying to apologize for something.

"Come on," he said to Blaine, leading him toward the nearest girls' bathroom. A horrified Mercedes and Rachel followed them in, wanting to help.

"Kurt, I'm sorry. I really am."

"Screw you, Finn."

The two brothers sat together in French. Kurt's shirt was now dry, but splattered with blue stains; he had somewhat fixed his hair and gotten rid of most of the blue dye on his skin, though with his pale skin, it had not been easy, and his face and neck were a bit raw from all the scrubbing.

Finn had been following him all over the school apologizing incessantly, and Kurt had to muster every ounce of patience to keep from punching him. Now that there was no avoiding sitting together in French, he was getting an earful of apologies again.

"I wish I hadn't assumed anything. I was so stupid."

"I think it's a little late for that. And yeah, you are."

Melrose shot them a look as she walked past them, while instructing random students to do a dialogue from the textbook.

"How can I make it up to you?" Finn asked in a low voice.

Kurt ignored him, pretending to read.

"Kurt, I know you're not reading. You already speak French."

Still no reply. Finn tried to get in his line of sight.

"Please say something."

"You can't undo it, Finn. We're just gonna have to be on our toes, until something else happens that makes the whole school forget this piece of information."

"We don't know that the whole school knows. Maybe no one else knows. Maybe it was contained."

"Oh, so after a cease fire of nearly two months, Blaine and I get slushied randomly?"

Finn didn't answer. He knew the odds were against him. He leaned over his textbook.

"Just so you know," Kurt continued, "I'm used to this kind of crap by now, though that's not to say it doesn't bother me. But if anything happens to Blaine, I swear I'll let Melrose rip you and your big mouth in half."

"Why not do it right now, get it over with?" Melrose whispered, cracking her knuckles in Finn's ear. The tall boy jumped, unaware that the teacher had been standing right behind him.

The students were still doing the conversation piece in French. Finn tried to focus, but it was difficult. After everything they had been through, he always felt like he owed Kurt something, to be there for him, to be a good brother.

"We'll be your bodyguards," he said, kneeling on his seat toward Kurt. The other boy rolled his eyes.

"Finn..."

"Seriously, me and the other guys, we can protect you and Blaine. Like the Bullywhips did."

"Whatever."

"I'll get to the bottom of this, Kurt. I promise. I'll figure out a way to fix this."

"Monsieur Hudson, s'il vous plait, s'asseoir et se taire?" Melrose called from behind her desk.

Finn drew a blank. "Uh... what?"

"SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP."

Promptly, Finn spun in his seat and sat down properly. He caught Dave staring at him from the adjacent desk. "What are you looking at?" he whispered angrily. Dave's eyes fell meekly toward his textbook.

Fearing more repercussions from his imprudence, Finn did what he promised; to find out what the slushy facial had been about. It hadn't happened in a considerable long time. In fact, the only previous time it had happened since the beginning of the school year was on Blaine's first week, shortly after he had been accepted into New Directions. But even then, no one was certain if the slushy had happened for being in Glee club, or for being gay.

Finn didn't need to confront anyone, however, to get the information. While in the locker room before football practice that day, Strando had been loudly joking about it. Apparently, the three boys who had gotten detention had been talking about doing it since the previous week, when they saw Kurt in Glambert regalia.

Finn was relieved to know that it didn't have to do with the gossip in Glee club after all. But he still felt like it was all his fault. The Glee kids all agreed never to talk about it again, and the boys decided that, whether Kurt and Blaine liked it or not, they would now act like their personal bodyguards; at least until they could be absolutely sure that, in fact, no one else at school knew.

In any case, it seemed that Blaine and Kurt had decided not to be bothered about the whole thing. But they were somewhat touched by the boys' gesture. They were trying to make up for what they had done, and Kurt knew that he could always count on them to stand up for him, as they had done so many times before.

"Do you think we should tell Burt?" Finn asked, as he, Kurt and Mercedes walked toward Spanish.

"No! My dad already wishes I had stayed in Dalton. I certainly don't need him to be on my case now for having sex," Kurt replied.

"But maybe he should know about this."

"I don't want him to get worried. This was nothing."

"It's not nothing, Kurt-"

"Finn, don't worry. It's not that big a deal."

"You said it was!"

"You told people!"

"I know! I know I'm an idiot! I get it!" Finn ran a hand frustratingly through his hair. "I just... if what you said was true, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

Kurt assessed his step-brother's face and felt a little bad. Maybe he had overreacted a little in Glee club. But being the only openly gay couple in the school was a lot harder, and he didn't expect anyone to understand. Especially Finn. But he knew that it had never been the jock's intention to do any harm.

"Don't worry, Finn. I'll be fine," Kurt said with a faint smile, patting his brother on the shoulder.

But he had an inkling everything would not be fine. He felt that he wouldn't feel one hundred percent fine until he could graduate and leave this forsaken town.

"I wanna graduate and leave this forsaken town."

Blaine looked up from his history book and over at Kurt, who was splayed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling instead of working on the essay that was due for tomorrow.

"The time will come sooner than you think," he said comfortingly.

"Blaine, it's November. We're seven months away from graduation. It's gonna be a freaking eternity."

"Are you still upset about the slushy? Or is it about something else?"

"In part it is about the slushy, and the fact that my favorite white Ralph Lauren is now completely ruined; but mainly..." Kurt trailed off, sitting up with a deep sigh, "I just really want to get out of Lima. I wanna go to New York. I want to be in a place where I don't have to worry so much about being gay and whether people approve of it or not. I want to be able to hug you in public without thinking so much about who's watching."

Blaine followed Kurt's gaze and he saw the cork-board over his desk. It was full of pictures and mementos from when New Directions had gone to Nationals. There were pictures of the whole group in Lincoln Center, in Central Park, etc. There was a picture Kurt had taken of Rachel in front of Tiffany's, pretending to be in the opening scene of 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'; there were ticket stubs, stolen key cards and city maps.

Blaine smiled as he observed each; he remembered Kurt telling him the whole New York adventure in detail, over coffee at the Lima Bean. It was then that Blaine had first said 'I love you'. It was then that he knew he would do anything to keep Kurt for the rest of his life, however long that turned out to be.

He needed New York too. He needed the dreams, the possibilities. He needed to be in a city where he knew he could marry Kurt if they both wanted it. He needed to hug and kiss his boyfriend whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted.

This time, leaving McKinley wouldn't mean running away; it would mean making a life together. Everything he ever yearned for.

"Well," Blaine started, moving from the desk to the bed, sitting in front of Kurt, "graduation may be still too far, but New York isn't, remember? Even if just for a short while, we'll be there together, on New Year's Eve."

Kurt's face lit up slightly. "That's true."

"Standing in Times Square, in the middle of this huge, excited crowd, waiting for the ball to drop," Blaine continued, inching closer as he spoke, until he could feel Kurt's breath on his lips, "and when the clock strikes midnight, I'll be doing this..."

Heart racing as always, he kissed him softly at first, and then deepened the kiss, a hand snaking to the back of Kurt's neck.

He broke the kiss eventually, looking sultrily at his boyfriend. "And then next year, starting June, we'll be able to do that in the middle of Times Square or a Starbucks or anywhere, as often as we want." He kissed him again. Kurt sounded a little breathless when they broke it again.

"I guess I can put up with this for a little while longer," he said with a tiny head tilt.

"Yeah, you know, that's pretty much what gets me through the day. You," Blaine added, kissing Kurt on the cheek. Kurt smiled.

"On the other hand," Blaine continued, "having the guys flanking me all the time is kind of cool. I feel like Obama."

"Yeah, that's probably what Puck thinks too; he likes to pretend he's in the Secret Service," Kurt said. "At least that's what he said when they were all trying to keep me from going to Dalton."

Blaine chuckled. "Hey, you know what I just realized?" he said. "We never celebrated our anniversary."

"Our anniversary is next year, silly."

"I mean, the anniversary of the first time we met."

Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh..."

"You remember that fateful day in which you attempted to spy on the Warblers, and you casually caught my arm on the staircase at Dalton."

"You're right. We forgot. And we didn't get Puck a present."

Blaine frowned in confusion. "Wait, you lost me. What does Puck have to do with it?"

"Didn't I tell you? It was his idea. He told me to go spy on you guys," Kurt said with a smile.

"Did he now?" Blaine mused, a grin spreading across his face.

"It turned out to be a great idea, didn't it?"

"We better think of something really good to get him for our anniversary, then."

They suddenly forgot all about slushies, not to mention their History homework, and they started a full-blown make out session, hoping no one would come knocking around for a while. As long as they kept quiet, maybe no one in the house had to know.

Nothing else happened for an entire week.

No slushy facials, no threatening anonymous calls, no graffiti on their cars, nothing. It seemed that Finn was right, and the gossip had been confined to the choir room.

Blaine and Kurt eventually forgot they had been worried at all. They decided to focus on other things; like spending almost every minute of their spare time with each other. Thanksgiving was coming up, and the teachers were giving them more homework. It was the perfect excuse to be together: tons of doing homework together, and the fact that it would be a long holiday weekend apart, because they would each be with their families.

They spent the afternoons after school either at Kurt's house or Blaine's, while their parents were still at work. Blaine was fortunate enough to be an only child, but Kurt still sometimes had to sort out what to do about Finn's presence. Lucky for them, Finn spent a lot of time with Rachel, either arguing or making out in her room, in her house. So most of the time, Blaine and Kurt would have a whole house to themselves, at least for a few hours.

The following weekend it was Burt and Carole's first anniversary. Since they had skipped on their honeymoon after the wedding, they were treating themselves to a whole weekend away at a fancy hotel in Westerville. They left on Friday evening, and left the boys to their own devices. Finn being Finn, considered having a party. Melrose being Melrose, warned him that if he didn't move the party elsewhere and leave the house to Kurt for the weekend, she'd do the mouth ripping Kurt had warned him about.

They were no longer nervous.

Blaine really enjoyed stripping Kurt, stylishly put-together Kurt; it was like he could see something else in him when he was naked. The carefully selected clothes were just the top layers of the Kurt he loved, a shield he wore to protect himself from the world, but underneath those layers was this magnetic human being who was not afraid of anything.

As for Blaine, he had been changing slowly since he left Dalton, allowing the walls that he had so carefully put up to come down too. But in that level of intimacy, it was like he was bursting with a raw passion that he had been keeping in for too long.

"Sometimes I think I love you so much it's actually a bit scary," Blaine said absentmindedly, stroking Kurt's bare back.

Sleepily, Kurt lifted his head from where it was nuzzled in Blaine's neck and looked at him in the dark. For a moment, Blaine thought he had actually been asleep.

"Scary? What? Why?" the pale boy asked in a soft voice. Blaine sighed and took a while to respond.

"It's just... I'm afraid I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I ever lost you."

"Why would you think you'd lose me?" Kurt asked again. As if to dispel any trouble in Blaine's mind, he reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers, resting the joined hands on Blaine's chest.

"I don't know," Blaine shook his head, banging it lightly against the headboard as he did. "I think too much sometimes, it's like I enjoy scaring myself. It's just my mind running rampant, making my heart uneasy for no good reason at all."

"Tell your mind to leave your poor heart alone," Kurt muttered tiredly against Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine chuckled. "I'll try."

There was a pause, and Blaine listened carefully as Kurt's breathing seemed to even out, and he himself tried to sleep, but his mind was still excited from earlier, and from the realization that this time, they would wake up next to each other in the morning.

Kurt stirred and let out a long breath, tickling Blaine's neck as he did.

"And what does your heart have to say in all this?" he asked, eyes closed. Blaine chuckled again.

"My heart really likes you, so he tries not to focus on those scary ideas."

"Oh but it has them too? Scary ideas?"

"Well, it's not a perfect heart, you see."

"It is to mine."

Blaine let out a laugh and kissed the top of Kurt's head.

"When did we become so sappy?" he asked, making a face.

"Some time around 'I love you so much it's scary'."

"Touché," Blaine snickered.

After another uneventful week, and seeing that Blaine and Kurt were no longer upset about it, some of the Glee kids felt confident enough now to even talk about it, albeit in the privacy of the choir room. Mostly it was the girls, who decided it was time to enjoy a bit of questioning, teasing and double entendres, in which the two boys in question tried not to take part, but is was rather difficult. The girls were very good at prying.

"So who put the moves on who?" Lauren asked.

"None of your business," Kurt and Blaine replied automatically.

"I already knoooow," Mercedes sang, smiling wickedly.

"Dammit, Mercedes!" Kurt exclaimed angrily.

But while they ignored all the teasing that ensued, they could hardly ignore each other, and that sometimes got in the way of focus in class.

Kurt had a constant urge to touch Blaine, any part of him, to be in continuous contact. Whether it was their shoulders grazing, or playing with his fingers, or Blaine's hand in the back of Kurt's neck. It was that longing that kept them both in an idiotic state of bliss, searching for one another like lost puppies.

That elated feeling is what carried him all the way to Friday, like whichever moment that Blaine wasn't there was a waste of time, and so the week went by in a blur.

He found himself humming when he reached his locker in the morning, his mind a jumble of thoughts and plans and hopes for the weekend. The only thing keeping him from getting ahead of himself was Glee club. As promised, Mr. Schue had started planning seriously for Sectionals, and thus everything they had discussed since the last competition was Mercedes's solo and original songs.

Someone snuck up behind him and pecked him on the cheek. Knowingly he smiled, as Blaine leaned against the locker next to Kurt's and grinned.

"So my dad has a weekend conference in Seattle, and my mom thought she'd visit my grandmother in Baltimore, since we won't be over for Thanksgiving," Blaine started. "So I'll be home alone. All weekend." He made a pout. Kurt smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, so what are you going to do, you poor thing, all by yourself in that big house?" he joked.

"Well, I was hoping that my lovely boyfriend would come and keep me company," Blaine replied, pretending to fidget like a nervous kid, "and keep me entertained. Somehow."

"In case you need ideas, Fluffy, Flipper, there's a special on the Discovery Channel tonight about mating rituals in dolphins. Just saying," Melrose joked, as she passed them and overheard them. She hurried away when Kurt gave her a murderous look. Blaine laughed.

"No, seriously, I thought we could get together with Wes and David and talk about where we want to go in New York; if we're going to any shows, then we should get tickets now, before they're completely sold out," he explained. "And maybe we could choose a place for a nice dinner."

"For just us?"

"Just us."

Kurt bit his lip to keep from smiling, because his cheeks were starting to hurt. "You know, you're making it very difficult to have patience until New Year. It feels like it's so close and yet so far."

"I can't wait either," Blaine said, tugging at Kurt's pinky for less than a second. "See you in Spanish."

"See you," this time Kurt couldn't help smiling as he watched his boyfriend walk away. Kurt closed his locker and started toward the French classroom.

The smile vanished somewhat when he realized he was headed in the same direction as Dave Karofsky. Of course, they had French together. He leveled with him.

"Hi, Dave," he said politely.

Dave barely acknowledged him at first, but then he looked him up and down and gave a chuckle.

"What?" Kurt asked annoyed.

"Nothing. It's nice to see you don't look like a Smurf anymore," was the reply. Kurt shook his head.

"Regardless of a few stains, my integrity and my pride are intact."

"Well, congratulations to you and your blueberry-flavored pride," Dave said coldly.

Kurt almost let it go; he didn't need to put up with Dave's mockery. But he knew where the coldness and the mockery came from. And Kurt really wanted im to stop using those mechanisms of defense.

"What happened to all the promises, Dave?" Kurt asked with a sigh.

Dave almost did a double-take, but kept on going.

"I never made any promises," he answered, and Kurt detected a bit of hesitation.

"Well, then, what happened to the silent, unassuming progress you had made?" Kurt continued, dropping his voice. "What about the Bullywhips? What about PFFLAG? What about you?"

Dave slowed down. They had made it to the French classroom, but it was still empty, except for three girls in the back, too immersed in their own animated chattering to notice them.

"I can't have this conversation anymore," Dave said, standing just outside the doorway. Kurt stood opposite him, clutching his books to his chest. He detected anger and exhaustion in Dave's voice, the larger boy swaying in the spot, like he couldn't will himself to move.

"A few months ago, right here on this spot, you told me you were sorry for everything that you had done to me, and I know how difficult that was for you," Kurt started. "I thought you were ready to move forward on your own, or at least let someone help you."

Dave didn't say anything.

"What are you so afraid of?" Kurt asked. "Of slushies? Of what people are going to say? Are those things scary enough for you that you prefer to live a lie?"

"I don't need your approval," Dave said quietly, his voice trembling with a hint of anger. "And I don't need your help."

"Yes you do. You're crying for help. You're trapped inside your own mind, and you're screaming for someone to help you come out of it."

"Stop."

Kurt obeyed. He didn't mean to push Dave's buttons. He didn't want to make him angry or miserable or anything. But he wanted some sort of reaction. Last year had been the beginning of a downward spiral for him, and Kurt was afraid that Dave might eventually hit rock bottom. As much as he had once resented him for all the hard times, Kurt now yearned for some redemption, for both of them.

"It's not going to make a difference, anyway," Dave whispered, mostly to himself.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked. The other boy looked down at his shoes.

"Never mind," he said, finally willing himself to walk in. He sat at the far left end of the classroom and kept his eyes trained on his desk.

Kurt stood there for a second, feeling a bit defeated, until Tina and Brittany came in and animatedly pulled him along with them. The three of them sat near the front and were talking about something Santana had said to Rachel that apparently was very funny. Then Melrose came in, and all the students filed in as the bell rang, and Kurt tried to forget all about the pointless conversation he'd just had with the most stubborn person he had ever met.

But as Melrose started writing phrases on the whiteboard and talking about irregular verbs, Kurt thought he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Dave would sneak glances at him regularly. He didn't know what to make out of that.

Coach Beiste announced that from that Friday, the team had an extra hour of football practice, due to a really important game coming up prior to Thanksgiving weekend. If football and Glee club clashed, Mr. Schue would have to give in. He really didn't want any rifts between him and coach Beiste.

"Unless you guys don't mind holding Glee club after football practice is over," he said to Blaine, Kurt, Rachel and Mercedes, once he ran into them in the hallway before last period.

The kids looked at each other and shrugged.

"I don't mind at all. I think we really need to focus on the competition from now on, and if that means sacrificing an extra hour of our spare time so we can shine our skills, I think it's something we should all be willing to do," Rachel said, characteristically.

It sat both well and bad with Kurt. He really wanted Glee club practice, because Mercedes had been rehearsing her solo, and he really wanted to hear it; he also really wanted to go to the movies with Blaine and not watch a movie. Plus, they were supposed to plan their New York trip with Wes and David. But since Rachel always got her way, and Mercedes and Blaine seemed to agree with Rachel, Kurt had to give in as well.

"Great, we'll still have to check with the rest of New Directions, and if everyone's on board with it, we'll wait for the boys to come back," Will said, hurrying away as the bell rang.

Melrose was sitting atop the piano playing 'Friday I'm in love' by The Cure on the ukulele, while Brad the pianist watched her, annoyed. Will was arranging sheet music next to her. The girls plus Blaine and Kurt were talking among themselves, shuffling around the room restlessly as they waited for football practice to be over. Tina disappeared for a while to the bathroom, saying something about not feeling well, and Brittany did cartwheels.

Blaine wrapped his left arm around Kurt while he chatted with Mercedes, and the boy absentmindedly grabbed a pen and started doodling on his arm. He drew a little heart on Blaine's wrist.

An hour went by. The boys from the football team were a no show.

"I've been texting Finn and Mike to ask if they could hurry up, but I guess practice is still not over," Will said when he saw the time.

"Yeah, they leave their cellphones inside their lockers. That means they're not done yet," Lauren said.

"Why don't we get started without them?" Rachel asked, sitting upright. "I have some great ideas for lyrics for the song that Mercedes should perform as a solo. It's my best work yet."

"We'll submit it to a vote," Will replied.

"Wait, you guys write original songs?" Melrose asked.

"It's perfectly okay for them to want to write their own songs," Will sighed.

"I didn't say it wasn't. I think it's great; it's creative and inspirational," Melrose said. "Different."

"And they're actually pretty good, if I may offer my humble, unbiased opinion," Blaine volunteered. "The first time they did it, Kurt and I were in The Warblers, and we were up against them. And they cleaned our clock."

"We're up against the Warblers again this year, on Sectionals," Will said.

"Yes! Well, no worries there, then," Rachel exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air.

"What makes you so confident, Rachel?" Will asked.

"Mr. Schue, in case you haven't noticed, we have Kurt back, and now Blaine's with us too. The Warblers don't stand a chance."

"Well, they have a new soloist," Will replied, "and I wouldn't underestimate him."

"He's not bad," Blaine admitted. "But Wes told me, he's not as reliable as me," he whispered to Kurt, with a wink, and Kurt laughed.

"We just don't want to get overconfident," Will continued. "Although I was hoping to reserve our original material for when we move on to Regionals, when we will most likely have to face Vocal Adrenaline. Again," he added for emphasis.

"No original song? But I worked so hard..." Rachel's face fell.

"And we'll submit it to a vote," Will assured her. "But your best work should be held off for when the competition gets fiercer. I actually kind of want to see if we can pull off a mash-up with some of the best songs you guys have done during our in-house competitions. Like our duets winners, and our winning solos."

"Yes!" Kurt exclaimed this time. He really, really wanted Blaine's 'Pride' performance to be counted.

"And, just like last year on Sectionals, I'd also like to give a bit more emphasis to dancing. I think it can help us stand out more, too."

"Do you kids still have your sheet music?"

"I have mine, yeah," Mercedes pulled out her binder and looked through he papers. Blaine and Quinn rifled through their bags too.

"I have 'Clocks' in my car. I'll go get it," Kurt announced, reaching for his car keys.

"Could you perhaps see how practice is going?" Will said, as Kurt climbed down the raisers. "If it's gonna take longer, we'll probably have to postpone Glee practice. The janitor is not too happy with us staying here so late; not to mention, the boys will probably be creamed after a long practice," Will said.

"Fine, I'll do that too," Kurt said, heading out the door.

"See, this would have never happened in my days here in McKinley, because no member of the football team would've ever joined Glee club," Melrose commented.

"Well, things have changed since you were in Glee club," Will said.

"You wish," Melrose said wistfully.

Kurt slammed the door of his car and popped a stick of gum in his mouth. He always kept a few useful things in the glove compartment, including gum, Tylenol, mints, a box of tissues, a nail file, a comb, a tiny bottle of cologne and hand wipes. Whenever Finn used the car, sometimes Kurt would find a crumpled Twix wrapper and a packet of ketchup in there.

He locked the car, stashed the sheet music in his bag, and started toward the building again. But from where he had parked, it would be a shorter walk around the outside of the building, past the back of the cafeteria kitchen. That path led directly to the football field. It was usually empty, except on game days, when people would walk directly to the stands.

He walked past the dumpsters and stopped.

Two figures appeared around the corner. Senior students, or at least they looked like it. But Kurt had never seen them before, so he guessed they might be from another school, sneaking in to watch the opposing football team's practice. At least they looked like they could be football players as well, though neither was wearing a varsity jacket.

One of them, a burly dark-skinned boy, playfully punched the other one, who was taller and very pale, his hair almost platinum. They reminded Kurt of Azimio and Karofsky when they walked together down the hallways. They were talking and laughing and making too many hand gestures, when they caught sight of him.

"Yo, check it out, man," the dark boy said.

"Aw he looks like a china doll, like the ones my grandma has," the blonde one said.

"Where you goin', pretty lady?"

Kurt didn't know what to do. His mind told him to stop, turn and run, while his heart willed him to keep going, just keep walking, walk past them without a word, without looking at them. He knew that wouldn't work, but that's what his courage was telling him to do.

"Hey, you're not ignoring us, are you?" the blonde one called as Kurt tried to beeline past them. He nudged his friend, and they started following Kurt. Trying not to panic, Kurt took longer strides but didn't quicken his pace. All he needed was to get to the other side of the building, where coach Beiste and the football team would be. Then those boys would probably go away.

"Hey," one of them said, and a heavy hand fell on Kurt's shoulder and forced him to turn around. "We're talking to you, princess. Don't be rude."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I was expected to partake on my own verbal abuse," Kurt said before he could stop himself. He could never stop himself.

"Is he being a smart-ass, Jacob?" the dark one asked sarcastically.

"I think so, and I don't think it's good for princesses to be smart-asses," the one named Jacob answered. Reflexively, Kurt tried to memorize their faces while keeping his breathing controlled. But his heart started beating faster, as the two boys stood squarely in front of him, towering over him.

"I think he needs a lesson in manners," Jacob continued.

"And I think you both need a lesson on how things work now that we're not in the Stone age anymore," Kurt snipped, and regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Jacob's grip on his shoulder tightened, so much that Kurt winced.

"Are you saying we're cavemen?" Jacob asked.

"Prove me wrong," Kurt said.

"Oh, I'll prove something to you."

Jacob pushed Kurt roughly against a wall and pinned him there. Kurt dropped his bag and groaned, the wind almost knocked out of him completely. He started to panic.

"Not such a smart-ass now, huh, princess?" the dark boy laughed.

Kurt tried to wriggle free, but Jacob was now pinning him with both hands.

"Hey," he said, squinting at him. "I remember you."

"Yeah?" the other boy asked. Kurt frowned in confusion.

"You're the fairy that used to play in the football team."

Kurt froze. He certainly didn't remember anyone from the other team, considering it had been two years ago that he played. But if these boys recognized him, it wasn't a good sign.

"You're right, man. I knew I'd seen him before. It's the kicker."

"Yeah, that's him."

Kurt felt his left arm going slightly numb as Jacob's grip tightened.

"You know what pissed me off the most about that day? It's not that you beat us," Jacob sneered. "It was that you spread your disease around your entire team. I mean, what the fuck? We get our asses kicked in the last few seconds by a bunch of dancing faggots?"

"Never been more embarrassed," the other boy agreed.

"And we have to play these losers again?"

"At least this one's not on the team anymore, is he? I bet they kicked him out for fear of what he could do to them in the locker room."

Kurt tried to wriggle free again.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where do you think you're going, ladyboy? We're not done," Jacob said.

Shouting for help would do no good, he was too far from anyone to be heard. There was a window, but beyond it there was no one inside.

Did he have a fighting chance?

According to Melrose, he did.

"No fruitcake is gonna beat us in a man's game and get away with it." Jacob asked, pulling his left fist back.

Don't think, just do it.

The guy was tall enough. It would work.

With all the strength he could muster, Kurt thrust his open palm upward, and caught Jacob's nose with the heel of his hand. Jacob's head snapped backward, totally caught off-guard, and Kurt kneed him in the stomach. The blond boy bent over, gasping. His nose started to bleed.

"Wow," Kurt breathed, a little surprised at himself.

"What the-" the dark boy started in shock. Kurt wasted no time. He used his elbow to punch Jacob again, this time on the side of the head; and just as he assumed the dark boy was lurching toward him, Kurt used the heel of his hand again, catching the boy in the jaw, then delivered a swift kick to the shin. The boy swayed back and almost lost his balance.

Kurt took this opportunity to run. He didn't even glance back. But as he turned to run, something caught his foot. Or someone.

"You little faggot!" Jacob shouted, his hand wrapped fiercely around Kurt's ankle. He yanked him back, and Kurt fell flat on his face, this time feeling that all the wind left his lungs. The blond boy picked him up by the neck and the back of his shirt, like a rag doll. He was a lot stronger than Kurt expected. Once he put Kurt upright on his feet, Jacob gripped his his shoulder and grabbed a handful of Kurt's hair.

Kurt winced and opened his eyes. He was now staring into Jacob's face, nose bleeding profusely, face red with anger. He looked demented.

"You messed with the wrong guy, faggot," Jacob growled, before slamming Kurt's head against the window.

And that was it. That was the origin of the story. This chapter and the next are the very first chapters I wrote for this story.

It was actually inspired by a horrible news report I read on tumblr, about an act of violence against a gay, otherwise known as 'gay bashing'. A guy in his late twenties was attacked by two (or was it three?) guys, for no apparent reason other than the fact that he was gay. His face was severely smashed in, and if I recall correctly, he was unable to walk or talk. They left him unrecognizable and barely alive. He had to undergo 9 hours of surgery just to reconstruct his face.

He was lucky. He survived in a situation where others have died.

The story horrified me so much, that I wish I could see it in the news, on television, everywhere, so that more people would see it, and be just as horrified by it, and want to do something about this, to stop it. So that people who do this kind of thing would feel ashamed for every time they have done it.

It scares me to think that this could happen to someone I know, especially my gay and lesbian friends, and I will always want to find a way to stop it from happening.

I was glad to see they somewhat addressed the issue of violence against gays in Glee, when Blaine tells the story of getting beaten up at a dance in his old school. And it's not like I see something like this happening on Glee. But I somehow wish the message was stronger, to get kids to realize there is nothing positive in beating up a person, no matter who or what they are. Glee is a very influential show, and it's taught a lot of people about tolerance and acceptance. But there's still a long way to go, and hopefully Glee will continue to be a good platform for this kind of outreach.

Anyway, that's all I have to say.

Peace,

Valentina