"Do you know anything about him?" Blaine asked, jerking his head backwards towards the retreating form of the boy who had bullied him.

Trent looked over his shoulder and shuddered a bit. "Not a lot," he said. "I'm a freshman, so I don't know a lot of these guys very well, but I do know that he," he jerked his head back, "is a bully."

"What's his name?" Blaine asked.

"Scott," Trent said. "Or something like that."

The two boys pushed their way out into the sunlight, and Blaine followed closely to his new friend.

"All I heard," Trent continued, "is that he's been trying to be on the Warbler counsel since he was a freshman, but he keeps getting beaten out in the vote. I guess he's mad about that since his dad donates a ton of money to the school."

"Is he a senior?" Blaine asked as Trent pushed open the doors of the school and headed for his car.

"Nope. Junior, I think. So, he's got one more chance at getting on the counsel next year. He tried out for lead singer, too, and lost out to you."

"That explains why he's being a bully," Blaine muttered to himself. Apparently, he wasn't quiet enough.

"He's bullying you?" Trent asked, stopping dead in his tracks, causing Blaine to nearly run into him. "Dalton has a no bullying policy. You should report him to the headmaster."

"I guess it's not really bullying," Blaine explained. "I mean, he's only said something mean to me twice. I don't think he'd, like, try to beat me up or anything." Just mentioning taking a beating, however, made his heart start to pound and the blood rush in his ears. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, doing his best to hold himself together. He wasn't going to cry. He was okay. He was safe here. He could do it.

Trent took a tentative step closer to Blaine, reaching out a gentle hand to rest lightly on the other boy's shoulder.

Blaine flinched away from the hand instinctively, looking up with frightened eyes at Trent.

"Are you okay?" the other boy asked softly. "Do you need me to call someone?"

Blaine shook his head as he tried to remember the breathing techniques he'd learned. "No," he finally managed. "I'll be okay. I was just...remembering."

"It happens to me, too," Trent admitted softly. "I'm a transfer, too, actually. A lot of people come to Dalton because of their anti-bullying policy."

"How do you know I'm a transfer?"

"I recognize trauma. You've been bullied hard, probably beaten up. It happens to a lot of us…"

"Are you gay, too?" Blaine questioned, not really realizing what he'd said until it was too late. He'd never admitted to anyone outside of his family and the boy that took him to his eighth grade dance that he was gay. He'd talked about it on the anti-bullying page from his old school, but that was the closest he'd ever come to coming out. So, he hurried to correct himself. "I-I mean, I-I-"

"It's okay," Trent said, giving him a reassuring smile. "I figured you were gay. And yes, I am, too. You're actually the first person I've told here."

"Um, yeah. Me, too," Blaine admitted shyly, swiping his hand across the back of his neck.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of them as they each wondered if they were supposed to say something or do something about this admission. Neither of them knew what to say; nothing really seemed appropriate, and they'd never met another person their own age who was actually gay. Finally, Trent broke the silence. "Come on. We'd better get going or everyone will be done with their coffee before we actually make it to the Lima Bean."

"Yeah," Blaine admitted, giving the other boy a small smile.

"Come on. I'm the red Honda," Trent said, pointing.

Blaine followed after him, mulling over his admission in his mind. He was glad he'd done it, he decided. It felt nice for someone else to know, someone that didn't have to accept him because they loved him as a son or brother. He wasn't sure if it would really change anything for him in the long run, and he didn't plan on coming out to any of the other Warblers or his classmates any time soon, but it was nice to know. Maybe he and Trent could be friends, he thought as he climbed into the passenger seat of Trent's car. Maybe, for the first time, he could have a friend that would know all his secrets without judging him.

At the Lima Bean, Blaine ordered his medium drip and sat at one of the large tables in the small coffee shop with the other Warblers. The older students sat around the table were very talkative, giving out their predictions for who would be competing against them at sectionals, what their biggest challenges were going to be during their non-competitive season, and what songs they thought the counsel would pick for sectionals. "Is there anything in particular you want to sing, Blaine?" one of them asked. "Since you are the lead singer."

"Um…" Blaine stuttered, caught mid-drink. He really didn't know if he wanted to admit his love for pop tunes, especially those traditionally sung by women, so he tried to come up with anything else. But he was blanking. So, instead of answering, he shrugged it off. "Hadn't really given it much thought."

"For a guy who sings like that, you're not very committed to your craft," one of the boys joked.

"Come on," another one said. "You must have some kind of idea! What do you sing in the shower? The Warblers will sing just about anything."

Blaine gulped. "Uh…"

"Are you more of a Broadway guy? Classics? Pop? You don't like country, do you? We've tried that, and most songs just don't work acapella."

"No," Blaine said, wiggling uncomfortably. "I'm not in to country."

"Blaine's into rock and roll, I bet," one of the boys said.

Blaine recognized him as being on the Warbler counsel, so he smiled, pretending to play along. It was really important that everyone like him; if he didn't have that going for him, they might decide he wasn't worthy of the lead singer position.

"Guys, maybe Blaine doesn't want to talk about his taste in music right now," Trent pointed out, smiling at Blaine from his seat across the table.

"I'm sorry," the boy from the counsel said. "I didn't catch your name." He extended his hand to Trent, waiting for the other boy to shake it.

"I'm Trent," he replied calmly. "I'm a freshman transfer."

"And how do you know our Blaine?" the counsel member asked.

"We sort of just met on the way over here," Trent explained. "We have one class together outside of Warbler rehearsal."

Blaine felt guilty as Trent said that. He had no idea he shared a class with the other boy, but now he desperately wished they shared more.

"So, you don't know Blaine well enough to speak for him?"

"I'd like to think we're friends," Trent replied cooley.

"We are," Blaine butted in. "Friends, I mean. And, he's right. I don't want to talk about my taste in music right now."

"Well, Blaine," the counsel member said, turning his piercing blue eyes onto the lead singer, "if you're going to be a leader in this group, you're going to need to learn to speak your mind. No one will trust you if they don't know you."

Blaine swallowed hard. The counsel member's cold demeanor reminded him of some of the bullies at his old school; they'd acted like that toward him whenever a teacher was present. When they were alone, they'd bully him with fists and words. "I'll remember that," Blaine managed to say. "Trent, could you give me a ride back to school, please? I have some homework I'd like to do." He stood, hoping Trent would agree so he could get out of there.

"Sure," Trent said, standing and grabbing his coffee cup. "See you guys at practice tomorrow."

The whole table mumbled some sort of goodbye as the two boys walked out the door, headed for Trent's red car.

"Thanks for taking me back," Blaine said when they were safely in the car on the road back to Dalton. "Sorry if you wanted to stay longer, but I just really needed to get out of there."

"It's no problem," Trent said, looking at Blaine out of the corner of his eye. "I guess the older members of the Warblers have it out for you. He wasn't very nice, either."

"I think they're jealous," Blaine admitted. "I can't blame them; I'd be upset, too, if I had been working hard for two or three years and got beat out of the top spot by a freshman." He sighed, looking out the window at the grassy hills they were flying past. "Maybe I should resign," he said quietly. "I'm beginning to wonder if being part of the Warblers just isn't for me."

"Do you like singing?" Trent asked.

"Yeah. I do it all the time."

"How about performing?"

"I'm not sure," Blaine admitted. "I've never had the opportunity to do it before; at my old school, I was too scared to join choir or the drama club."

"Well, as someone who watched you perform during your audition, I can tell you that you're an amazing performer. It seems to come naturally to you. You shouldn't give up on the Warblers over a few jealous douches. You're good at what you do, and you deserve the top spot."

"Thanks," Blaine said softly. He wasn't sure you believed Trent, but it was nice to hear someone compliment him like that. It didn't happen often. There was a long pause, and then he asked, "How did you get to be so sure of yourself? Doesn't the bullying that happened to you in the past still scare you?"

"Sure it does," Trent said. "I'm scared every day. But if there's one thing that being beaten to the point of being hospitalized twice teaches you, it's that you can't be afraid to live and be yourself. Life is too short to waste time being afraid."

"I wish I could think that way."

"You can." Trent tapped his temple. "It's all about training yourself to think like that. Changing one negative thought into a positive one can be all it takes."

Blaine smiled. "Thanks." They didn't speak the rest of the way back to the school, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Blaine was thinking about all the things he wished he could change about himself, wondering if thinking positively could do the trick. He wasn't sure that would be enough, but he'd seen enough of Trent standing up for himself to know he wanted to try. As they pulled into the parking lot at Dalton, Blaine asked, "So, what class do we have together?"

"Algebra," Trent said. "I sit back in the back toward the far corner. I'm not surprised you don't see me."

"Well, I'm still sorry. I really need to be more observant."

"Do you want to work on our Algebra homework together? I usually study with a few other guys, but they're still all at the Lima Bean."

"Sure."

"You know, if you'd like, I think it would be fun to hang out more," Trent commented as they walked back into the school, after their backpacks that they'd left in the Warblers practice room. "I would like to know what types of music you like to sing."

Blaine grinned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I'd like that," he said. "And, I'm more of a pop guy. Katy Perry."

"Teenage Dream?" Trent asked.

"Yeah. It's one of my favorites."

"Mine, too. Wanna listen to it before we start studying? Maybe we could work on some moves to present to the Warbler counsel."

Blaine smiled, his heart giving a little leap. It seemed he'd finally, for once in his life, made a good friend. "Yeah," he said. "That sounds like fun!"