Episode 10, Chapter 1:

Hey, Upper East Siders, It's That Time Of Year Again, When The Mere Act Of Descending A Staircase Means You're A Woman. That's Right—Debutante Season. And from what we hear, there's been some changes to the lineup.

Quinn got ill just after Thanksgiving. She blamed the underdone turkey, but it was hard to say what exactly the culprit was. Regardless, she handed the duty of organizing the invitations and decorations of the debutante ball to her seconds-in-command, Brittany and Santana. She would have given the duty over to Kurt, but they hadn't spoken in a week as they stewed over their latest fight. Neither could forgive the words that were shared, and they were each waiting for the other to extend an olive branch. Unfortunately for her, when it came to the debutante ball preparations, God had been unkind.

It was Brittany's unique and peculiar thought-processes that were going to make her the laughing stock of the entire island of Manhattan. Quinn trusted them with the biggest decisions of her life, and all they could come up with were 'Dinosaurs.' In the eyes of Brittany, and Santana who followed the blonde's every whim, dinosaurs were creatures loved by all ages. They also claimed that the dinosaur theme would be attention-getting and redefine what the cotillion could be. She immediately went through the motions to change the theme before anyone ever knew, but the invitations had already been delivered and received by Manhattan's most prominent families.

Quinn would have wrung their necks, but she was stuck in bed until her fever went down. Quinn would have stayed in bed for another week feigning sickness, but the deed was done, and there was nothing to do but move on. Everyone knew this gala was Quinn's baby. The daughter of Judy Fabray, she knew how to throw a party. When her brain melted into Jell-O the week a decision needed to be made, she made a wrong call. However, if the theme was going to be dinosaurs, she would make sure it was the best dinosaur ball ever.

The third problem Quinn faced besides illness and a terrible theme was who she was taking to the debutante ball. It mattered who you walked down the steps with. The two most obvious options would not cut it. Sam and Puck were last resorts... if that.

"Puck, do you really think this is a good idea?"

"It's no problem. I told you not to come if you were going to chicken out at the last minute. You're either with me or you're not."

"It's just—can't we get in real trouble for being in here?"

"Yeah, but that's the point. I'm trying to get in trouble. I didn't get the title of 'Badass' by sitting on my hands. This will be all anyone talks about for the rest of the year."

"This was a bad idea then. You know that ever since my dad got thrown in prison, they haven't left my family out of the papers."

Puck finally stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his best friend.

"This will be great for you… Evan."

Things had gotten weirder with Sam recently. After his family was thrown into shambles, Sam created a unique identity with his smarter alter-ego twin, Evan. It could only have been caused from the post-traumatic stress he had undergone since his life turned upside down. The stress had released a pretty bizarre coping mechanism to get him through it.

"Look Evan," Puck stuttered on the name. He was trying to be supportive of his friend and not ruin the only thing that was keeping his friend together, but it was getting pretty tiresome to keep his fantasy alive. "Can I get Sam back for a minute?"

"Yeah sure, I'll go call him. He's waiting in the car," Sam, who was currently 'Evan' who wore fashion glasses and a cardigan tied around his neck, ran away. Only two second later, he returned as glasses-less and sweater-less Sam. Puck frustratedly put down the tool he was using to try and jimmy open the locks to the door of the school pool.

"What's up? Evan said you needed me. You need help getting in?"

"No man, I'm just sick of this game you're playing," Puck groaned. This fantasy was getting out of control, and it was making his plan to host a massive pool party on school grounds after-hours a lot more difficult as he babysat his friend.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked genuinely confused. His abnormally puffy lips in a confused pout.

"You know what I mean, man. Your "smarter twin brother" who you have been playing as ever since your dad got put away."

"He is as real as you are me," Sam insisted. "I'll go get him right now." He was about to jet away, but Puck yanked his shirt collar.

"Stay here and help me with the door."

Sam nodded and took a lock pin. He opened the door in no time. Puck clapped him on the back and found a set of emergency keys in the drawer of the staff desk. He made a copy of the key with an impression pad he kept in a fake flask.

"So, Puck, who are you taking to the coattail-lion?" his friend gave a bemused look.

"You mean the lame dinosaur thing?"

"Yeah, the party. Who are you taking to it?"

"Firstly, it's a cotillion, Sam, trust me, that thing is NOT a party. I've been to graveyards with a better party scene. Second, I'm not going so I don't need a date."

"Really because even though I begged my mom, she's making me and Evan go to it. I have to see who'll go with me. The picking is small because Quinn scared every girl on the Upper East Side from talking to me."

"Who needs girls anyway?" Puck groaned at the thought of the girls he used to waste his time on. Quinn was the last girl he'd get involved with.

"Is the shark after guys now or something?"

"No, no, no, I know what I want. Women. I don't need to go to princess party to find them," he smirked.

"I was thinking of asking Quinn. It wouldn't be like a date, of course, but as friends."

"Whoa, are you even talking to her? When did that start? You never told me!"

"You seem upset? What did you want to go with her?" Sam laughed at his joke.

"Of course not! I just don't know why you'd think about bringing her."

"I might have no choice…" Puck didn't respond. Sam didn't like the quiet and the fact that they could be found any minute. "Can we get out of here? I don't want to get busted."

Blaine had no choice but to plan what he was going to wear to the debutantes' ball. Even though it was mostly a popularity prom, Kurt was going, and he wanted his choice date to be there. Blaine didn't exactly like the idea of going. This was looking to be the worst party he had been to with hands-down the most stuck-up rich people. He was worried how he would feel being the only one like him there. Kurt didn't have the same problem because wherever he went people knew his name and that he was one of them. If Blaine, on the other hand, didn't look exactly right, he could bet he would stand out like a sore thumb.

After trying on a black suit and tie he hadn't worn in months, Blaine knew the best that could happen was he looked so unremarkable he blended in. His sister, of course, found her way into his room once he started checking himself out in the mirror.

"Getting ready for the big ball!" she said hurrying in, still in her hot pink Josie 'Marshmallow' cozy robe and carrying a mug of tea. [4x12] "I wish I could go, but Quinn gave me explicit orders that this was an event I could not crash, or it might be the last thing I ever do. She's the boss so I can't screw this up. One day though it's going to be me. Finn's already promised to take me."

"How did you manage that one? You bribed him?"

"I did not!" she play-acted mad. "He's taking me someplace special tonight so while you have your fun, I'll be doing something even better," Rachel smiled like she won.

"I'm really surprised you're not begging Quinn to let you go to this. There aren't many times you get the chance. It's a big deal."

"I don't know what it is; I'm just really happy right now. Everything's going great at school, with the girls, and with Finn."

"I'm glad you're happy," Blaine said busy changing his tie.

"Thanks, but you can say it like you mean it."

"I do," he corrected himself. "Rachel, I care that you're happy. I'm glad that you found happiness. I'm just worried about what will happen to you if you get sucked into this world."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you saw how Gossip Girl ruined that girl, what's-her-face, on her blog last week? That's how bad it is, I forgot her name! She is moving now because people were making fun of her. I just know I couldn't stand that kind of bullying."

"I'll be fine, Blaine," she insisted. "… so why are you getting dressed already? Don't you have time? It's only one."

"Yes, well I won't have time to change the suit later because I'm meeting Kurt's grandmother. He already told me that she will probably not like me and is an absolute pain so I'm nervously trying to take my mind off it."

"Wait, wait, you're never nervous! No one has ever not liked you. I would know because you've gotten picked over me a bunch of times. People feel…overwhelmed by my get-what-I-want attitude, but you, they love."

"With the way Kurt described her, it doesn't sound good. She barely likes him or he can't really tell because her 'like' and 'hate' faces are the same."

"Well in that case, I wish you luck." Blaine accepted it and hoped it would be enough.

"She's a little rough around the edges. She's not the easiest to talk to, but she's family so she means well. She's very opinionated, prideful, somewhat arrogant…" Kurt thought having a pep talk beforehand so that his boyfriend knew what he would be up against was a good idea, but he clearly had the wrong view.

Kurt wore a bold dirt brown Rag & Bone Tan Mechanic suit, with a H&M Spring menswear silk scarf, Marcc Silver Foxtail, brown Eugenia Kim Gary Slouchy cap, and matching Classic Irish Setter boots. [New York]

"I don't know if this will work," Blaine said trying to leave the restaurant. Kurt pulled him back to sit at the table. His grandmother liked very few things, but one of the few things she did like was the restaurant to which Kurt brought them. He hoped that would make her happy enough that she would be on her best behavior. He hadn't told Blaine yet, but he wasn't staying for lunch. His grandmother had specifically asked to eat with his boyfriend alone.

"You'll be fine," Kurt said. He knew his boyfriend was sweating when he saw the front of his hair curl. He twirled it between his fingers to calm him down. "She'll love you because I do—I mean, she'll like you—"

His slip-up was Blaine's gain. His apparent love was enough to settle Blaine in his seat. They had just ordered drinks when she finally arrived.

Sue Sylvester had a domineering air. Even if most people didn't believe she had anything worth saying, they were more inclined to agree with her than dare to disagree. She would chew out anyone who crossed her and then take out their entire bloodline. She had the money and resources to always get what she wanted. What she didn't want is her sparkling diamond grandson to be involved with anyone she didn't approve of.

"Porcelain! How's it going? Is this the boy? He looks more like a Hobbit to me, probably comes from a whole little family of Hobbits. I didn't think you liked short guys."

The boy took offense. However, Kurt wanted to speed through the formalities. He already knew that there was no point in discouraging her from saying rude things. No one could tame her tongue.

"Nice to see you, Sue. This is Blaine. Blaine, this is my grandmother, Sue Sylvester."

She took his hand and shook it until he almost felt his bones crush. She had the grip of a weight-lifter or sumo wrestler. She was nothing he expected. Sue had wrinkles that showed her true age, but she would probably never admit it. Her hair was blonde and choppy and she was oddly dressed down in red and stripes, her favorite combination. Kurt had seen her wear the same getup for years. Of course, he disapproved, and with all her money, she should have an enormous closet filled with everything imaginable, but the unimaginable truth Kurt had seen with his own two eyes were hangers full of the exact same outfit. It was timeless, but still. It was like a uniform to her. The way she stood out on a day-to-day basis was through her voice. By speaking her mind, she never let anyone take away her voice. She had a lot to say even though most of it was racist, insensitive, callous, discriminatory and bigoted.

"I don't know why you wanted to talk to Blaine, but here he is," Kurt flashed a fake smiled and held Blaine's arm too tight. Blaine knew something was about to be dropped on him that he hadn't expected. Guiltily, Kurt finally told him that he wasn't staying for lunch. His boyfriend silently cursed the gods; if it weren't for wanting his relationship with Kurt to last, he would have run away. He oftentimes preached courage, but this might have taken his own reserves of courage too far.

"I got to admit I hoped you'd pick someone better than young Burt Reynolds here. Alright, Tickle-Me-Doughface, get out of here! I told you I want to speak to Frodo alone," Kurt smiled to appease her. His lips were tight. Her nicknames for people were slightly derogatory, but you couldn't tell her that without somehow insulting her. She liked honesty unless it was meant to belittle her.

Kurt reluctantly left with a hopeful glance behind him at Blaine. Then, she began her vetting process. She stopped the written list when she got halfway through and realized that like a tax-form there were a lot of 'No's.

"Brian, what's your last name?"

"My name is Blaine—Blaine Anderson."

"Yeah, sure, I heard the first time. Something's familiar about your face. I can't remember what it is," she gnawed viciously at the garnish on her plate. She moved on to giving him extreme eye contact, which only made him more uncomfortable. "Let's cut the cow. I don't like you. I don't like what you look like, what you sound like, your name, where you come from, or the fact that you're sleeping with my grandson."

"We're not sleeping together," he spat. "I'll wait as long as he wants."

"You're poor, aren't you? I can tell by the way you're dressed. The smell of—what is that raspberries—raspberry hair gel, really you think that's a good thing to smell like. I'm surprised bees don't come after you crying 'Hey, look dinner!' Let me cut to the chase, you just won't cut it. You and your stinky Lower Manhattan sweat, I just can't say it enough."

"Maybe you should stop while you're ahead," Blaine finally responded with some confidence. If she wanted to insult him the entire lunch, then he was going to say what he thought or leave before a meal ever came to their table. "First, I'm not from Lower Manhattan, and either way, people from Lower Manhattan do not have worse sweat than anyone else. Second, I am not poor. I just wasn't born with a silver spoon, and I'm fine with that. I like who I am. And third, no one talks bad about my hair gel because it's mine and I love it," he threw the napkin, which was usual dining etiquette when you were pissed off.

"You've got a temper on you…" Blaine was waiting to hear her say how that made him a worse candidate to be dating her grandson. He offered her the look. Bring it on! "Why didn't you start off with that?! I was worried you were too nice!" Wait, huh? "My grandson came out just like me. He can have a heart of stone. It's better when you don't want the world dumping its crap all over your life. You better learn to fight. You're going to need it."

"We don't really fight that much."

"Just wait, it'll come. Kurt's gone hours with me in the Thunderdome. He doesn't have my personality, but I assume that works for him," she smiled, and Blaine honestly believed she was crazy. "You still might not cut it, but you'll go pretty far."

"Um, thank you," he said bemused. She smiled like she'd given him her blessing. "So, you don't have a problem with me taking him to the ball?"

"The Debutantes ball that I've been on the chair of for thirteen years, that's brought me joy and happiness, that I was excited to hand down to my children and their children after them…Of course I have a problem! Just because I like you more than whomever Kurt digs up next does not mean you have my blessing to go with Porcelain."

"But we are going together though," Blaine replied confusedly.

"Oh no, you're not. Every other night I won't mind what you stick up his puppet, but not tonight, not…tonight," she shook her head with a disturbed grimace. "I've enlisted Sebastian Smythe to take him. He comes from a great family. He is a better pick for his grand entry into high society."

Blaine didn't know who Sebastian was, but he hated the fact that he was being kicked aside for whoever this guy was. is mind worked overtime determining what this meant Seeing the disappointment on Blaine's face as h, Sue followed up her statement.

"You wouldn't enjoy it anyway."

He couldn't argue. Blaine's temper had only gotten him so far. It seemed like he may have gotten Sue's respect, but it still somehow backfired and he wasn't enough; just like he feared form the beginning.

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, looks like your invitation just arrived with strings attached. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

~A.N. Introducing Grandma SUE! I did a bit of research to get all the nicknames that Sue uses for Blaine and Kurt. Obviously, it's cannon that she ships Klaine hard but we will see none of that here. Also, you can expect to see a bit of Sebastian Smythe in the next 2 chapters! Also, I feel bad for poor Sam who's been going through so much; Evan is from Season 4 and only appears in an episode so don't worry he'll grow out of it!