what i've decided to do that instead of skipping S01 events and skipping right to Blaine, and then skipping from S02 to S03, that i'm going to be incredibly horrible and actually write out the events of the seasons. i'll not concentrate through all of season 1 and will skim through some episodes or combine 2 or 3 episodes together. although Kurt doesn't see either of them in that time period, he's still writing letters to them. so be prepared for this.

From Kurt to Blaine, Part 6

Kurt thought of Blaine today because he simply found himself one of those extravagantly sunny sweaters that were burning as bright as the sun, and remembered the fact that Blaine was Gaelic for yellow.

He thought of Blaine often. Sometimes, he looked through Burt's extensive, never-ending collection of photographs just to see if he can find a picture of Blaine. Sometimes, he reread the letters he made as a child and realised that he lacked in his ability to explain emotions. He didn't know how to say that there was a lack of pleasure in everything in his life.

He remembered that too well now that he was able to illustrate it more properly. He wondered how they'd be able to tell with other children. Most times now, if he'd ever feel the depression weigh him down, he'd feel a sudden surge of frustration fill his body that ended up with him crying and locked in his room for what felt like hours. He swore that he'd choke on his tears, and that the world was a weight on his chest that was crushing him relentlessly.

Then he'd move through the world in some sort of state of numbness. He'd forgot what time it was, who he was, what he liked and what he didn't, simply because he felt like there was no reason for him to exist considering that he lacked pleasure in things that he used to love, in arts, in relationships, in food, and those were the harder days back then. He'd been able to illustrate them right now, that boy that felt a constant guilt in his boots and continued to feel worthless despite that he'd done nothing wrong.

He'd taken singing as something that he can do when he felt that way. Soon, his songs of somber had turned in songs of glee. Some days it was the mere opposite. He remembered to take his pills now without his Father having to remind him every goddamned moment of the day. He will always commend himself for that because he'd constantly skip his dose if his Father was not around. After wearing the yellowish sweater, he had decided to do his hair.

He'd then proceeded to give up on his hair when he realised it was just an incredibly bad hair day for him, and found himself a hat that did go with the yellow sweater – a hard feat he'd say.

His Father had made him breakfast beforehand, and Kurt glared at Burt. "Who is my sandwich dripping from cow fat?"

"Because the cow has more fat than you and dammit to Hell, I don't like that," Burt finally responded to his son's question.

One thing that Kurt knew that Burt did not like was the fact that Kurt had been gradually losing weight as the years had gone by, going from his obese frame as a child to a rather thin frame right now, or so Burt defined it as. Kurt knew he looked like the average male. He had a bit of fat on him to lose if he wanted to lose it, but he'd rather not go into insane crash diets for no apparent reason.

"Heard that Sandy guy is out," Burt said, indicating something to Kurt. Oh, dear Chanel, this was bad – this meant that he was snooping around for opportunities with the so called school Glee club. Yet again. "And there's that Spanish teacher, the one you like, coaching."

"I'm aware of what happens in my school, Dad," Kurt was getting unusually frustrated with his Father already, as he looked down at the mess that was breakfast. He decided to take a sip from his milk…which was of course, full-fat milk. "What is this about? Cut to the chase now. We both don't quite have all morning to sit around and gossip."

"Still not a morning person," Burt commented, and then added on. "I thought since you know, you've been into singing and all and now that that creepy Sandy guy isn't couching the Glee club, that you should try out. Would be good for you instead of living in your room and singing loud enough to break the vase."

"It was an ugly vase," Kurt defended himself before he added on. "You don't understand. Tryouts are crucial to me. I have to sing something that has a meaning of course, and I can't just—"

"Great." Burt cut him off and then took a bite into his sandwich before saying. "Sing the song you were singing when you broke the vase."

"If you say so…" Kurt murmured, taking a bite out of his sandwich. "Dear Prada, the grease on this."

"Would you do me a favour, kiddo?" Burt began, standing up to stow his plate into the sink before he left to get to work. He watched Kurt sigh deeply before nodding his head. He hoped it wasn't anything related to Burt's job because Kurt was not looking forward to giving the man tools whilst he worked on cars.

"Great," Burt smiled a sickly sweet smile, and then added on. "Shut your trap. Finish your breakfast, and sign up for Glee."

Kurt laughed, and watched the man leave only to shut the door behind him. He looked down at his breakfast, which he will not have of course simply because he was concerned that this one meal alone would clog his arteries. He left to get himself a bowl of Raisin Bran. He might just join Glee, he said, thinking of himself, but perhaps not. Just as Kurt had decided not to, his phone buzzed in his pocket and since Kurt was practically friendless except for a few token teddy bears and his Father, he knew that it had to be his Father.

Kurt looked down at his phone, and then sighed. His Father was really serious about Glee.

After you're done with your Glee practice, come down to the shop and we'll go out to lunch to celebrate the fact that you actually went to Glee practice after I nagged you for all of three years.

Dear Blaine A.,

I haven't written to you in a while (not that you'd know considering that I have sent zero of the letters that I'd written to you). I've decided that as time had gone by, I'd sign and introduce my letters differently.

I've thought of you today when wearing a sweater that had a colour so bright I swore that the photoreceptors in people's cornea can no longer detect the colour year. I've heard some things about you from Dad but never quite checked up on you for a while, that you're in that all insanely disastrous West Lima school, and have grown to be a respectable young man (by my Father's standards). I don't really know what to think of it. I'm not the same boy you've met, and I fear for the life of me that if we ever meet again that you wouldn't be the same boy at all and that the sunshine I've found in my life came with the price of you losing yours.

Perhaps, it's just me being paranoid. Fine. It's probably me being paranoid, but I can't really help it.

I went to Glee club auditions for the first time in my life. Unfortunately, I was not wearing the burn-into-your-soul bright yellow sweater as some bullies around in school threw a slushie at me (yes, this is a thing now) and therefore, damaging seventy-five percent of my wardrobe in the course of a year. This is calling slushying, synonymous with murdering. I preformed "Mr Cellophane" in the most absurdly coloured clothing, but eventually, I was gained admission into the VERY GLEE CLUB!

They thought that my voice was mesmerising. Okay, it is on certain days just that, and I kid you not I actually was about to die from delight when Mr Schue had accepted me into Glee. The day went by smoothly. My Father took me out for lunch, and basically gave me the 'I told you I was right all along' look, which was wiped away at night when I told him that if he was just a little patient with the toaster and waited a bit longer, his toast would actually taste better. Of course, I was right, and this concludes this riveting tale.

Love,

Kurt H.

PS. I GOT INTO GLEE CLUB.