AN: Hey everybody!
I am so, so, SO grateful for all the support for this story!
Guys! 11 followers and 4 favorites! All in two days! That has NEVER happened to me before! I'm SO EXCITED! Thank you all for the support. :)
Of course a HUGE THANK YOU to those of you who reviewed! I'm so GLAD this story is receiving SO much love! You all rock!
OK - so here I introduce Blaine. He's not like the Blaine you know in the show. He's a greaser from the '50s and I hope none of you get offended with what I did with him. I apologize if you do but I've had this idea for a while now and I needed to get it out.
This entire chapter is Blaine and a few OCs. That's it.
If you have questions, Again I'll TRY to answer them without giving anything away. :)
The song is 'I'm Walking Behind You' by Eddie Fisher.
Please enjoy!
Please review. Please be kind.
HAVE A NICE DAY!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEx3
Chapter 1
Lima, Ohio. 1953
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
Driiiiiiiip...
The leaky faucet wouldn't shut up and it was annoying. And it could drive a human mad! Looking at the ceiling, young Blaine Anderson tried to focus on anything other than that damn faucet in the upstairs bathroom. Or the person loudly snoring next to him. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep he was getting that night.
He couldn't really tell the time, he lost track of it around the same time he lost his clothes in the throws of sex.
He stared up at the ceiling in bed, tossing and turning. His legs were restless. And he needed to focus. He looked harder at the brown mold stain forming into crazy designs and he drew different images based on what his young mind saw. He could see a dog, bird, worm, and other various things. He compared this to looking up at the sky in broad daylight and imagining things when you were a kid.
But those days of being free and not worrying about the world's problems were over for Blaine. And he knew that. His innocence and blindness to the world were gone now. No looking back.
He continued drawing on the ceiling and he couldn't stop!
He was soooooo bored!
He was so transfixed that he didn't hear the car door outside slam! Or the ignition turn off... Until it was almost too late!
Slam! The front door sang. As it did the body next to Blaine finally woke up from its slumber.
"Shit! My husband is home! You got to get the fuck out of here before he finds you and kicks your ass!" Mrs. Colder threatened.
Blaine didn't care either way. This was her cross to bear. He's not the one married and cheating on her husband with a minor. Why should he care? He wasn't scared of Mr. Colder. Not at all. The dude was 5'3 and 100 pounds. Blaine could take him easily.
But it seemed to worry Mrs. Colder all the same. She wanted to maintain a certain perfect housewife front. And Blaine surmised that sleeping with a seventeen year old would ruin that perfect image.
God, he needed a smoke. This was all so stressful!
After a few more seconds, he drew himself up and swung his legs over the bed. He continued to listen to her panic and order him around, but he could've cared less. Blaine rubbed his hands over his eyes and gently pressed against them. Disgusting sleep fell from his eyelids and he yawned once more. There was an almost-empty bottle of Jim Beam bourbon on the nightstand and an ashtray that badly needed emptied.
That reminded him. He reached over and grabbed a cigarette from the table.
"Get out of here, loser!" Colder exclaimed, totally freaking out. Despite the sore throat from smoking so much the night before (never mind the drinking, thank you very much), there was an urgent need for a Pall Mall and he had to have it. Snatching a cancer stick in his hand, he lit his cigarette, inhaled deeply, and turned on the FM radio.
Suddenly, a smooth, crooning song filled the room…
.
I'm walking behind you
On your wedding day
And I'll hear you promise
To love and obey
Though you may forget me
You're still on my mind
Look over your shoulder
I'm walking behind
Maybe I'll kiss again
With a love that's new
But I shall wish again
I was kissing you
'Cos I'll always love you
Wherever you go
And though we are parted
I want you to know
.
"Get out!" she whined, interrupting the song.
He groaned. The very last thing he needed to hear that morning was something salty. And sappy. He'd broken many a girl's hearts over the years and he wasn't about to relive that. Besides, that's not what he really wanted. He wanted something solid. Instead, he turned off the Eddie Fisher classic and took two more puffs of his cigarette before putting it out. He could hear footsteps in the house just as Mrs. Colder was putting on a housecoat.
He truly felt like something in this moment. It wasn't overly obvious at first but it left him actually wanting to get out of bed and do something that day. The first hints of a smile hit him as he thought about how he could bring excitement to his day. There was always the possibility of rolling on a solid pops. That was always fun. He could also find some sucker on a bus or someone who was drunk or asleep and take his wallet. And the even better possibility was finding someone who was lost and make that person even MORE lost.
Finally, he smiled for the first time that morning.
He grew tired of her spazzes and finally got dressed. He did use her vanity just once to admire his stern, good looks. It was always a plus to be handsome and no one in Lima, Ohio in 1953 could look like him. There was always a plethora of nice amenities in this bathroom and he knew if he wanted the same, he'd have to talk to the super back at his apartment building about that.
That's when Blaine's expression soured. He knew he'd have to "pay the bill." Blaine didn't always like to do that, but when you're a horny teenager, sometimes duty calls. Just like his dad did in World War II. You just grin and bear it. But what the hell?
As Blaine was dressing he heard a sound from down below.
"Annie!"
More footsteps, closer to the bedroom.
"Get…the fuck…OUTTA HERE!" Colder loudly whispered.
Blaine sighed. He didn't even have time to put in his Bryl-Cream before he dashed from the room through the window. It's a good thing she paid him before his services. Slipping his comb in his pocket, he slipped out the window, turned, winked at her, and dashed down to the concrete below.
When he emerged on the street, he inhaled deeply but then regretted it. Lima Locomotive was in full swing and the early morning rush hour was underway. Women in pink pillbox hats and lace walked around, their heels clicking on the pavement. Chartreuse and pink dresses with shoulder blades as wide as Joan Crawford were in clear view and men wore very dapper suits, pressed as firmly as could be.
Pay phones stood prominently beside police phone boxes. A paperboy was holding up a paper, demanding that if you didn't read the news about Senator McCarthy's Red Scare, that you were a Communist! A lone taxicab drove by, then a city bus, then cars and trucks on their way to work and Blaine suddenly felt completely alone.
There's something about being surrounded by people and vehicles that can make you see yourself as invisible. He rolled his Pall Mall pack in his shirtsleeve and tried to put up the image of a confident, sexy young man. But in reality, the absolute and terrifying loneliness that hung in his entire being threatened to crush his soul and he felt like he would suffocate. There was nothing he could do to stop it and he truly felt like Holden Caulfield from 'Catcher in The Rye' in that moment – the boy that saw the world as phony and who would slip away into non-existence just by crossing a city block.
He was afraid to look up at the sky. Blaine always loved how mosaic it appeared and there was a formation of cumulus clouds that always reminded him of that new weirdo Jackson Pollack. He smiled to himself and felt a little better. That's the wonderful thing about taking a walk. No matter what time of day or your circumstances, you can always feel just a little bit better.
Soon, he approached his apartment building, about a mile from McKinley High School. It was an imposing structure, four-stories high, with stark and dilapidated cornices throughout. The super had said it was once a school or church or something, but Blaine hardly cared. The rent was cheap and he was rarely asked any questions by anyone about his lifestyle. But his smile evaporated as he skipped two steps up the sharp, concrete staircase and opened the heavy, oak door. Blaine Anderson was many, many things. And one of them was the desire to avoid the super.
It didn't work.
Blaine's entered the main hallway and was just about to race up the stairs towards his second floor apartment when he heard the super's door open. Very heavily sighing, his expression soured, but only for an instant. That winning, smarmy Anderson smile was suddenly plastered on his face just as the super presented herself.
There had to have been a day when she was pretty. But he didn't know when. She stuck her head out of her apartment door and quickly looked around. Seeing they were alone and that he couldn't escape, she smiled at him, a ghastly experience to anyone.
"Well, hello, Lorette!" Blaine said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
She opened the door a little, exposing a pale negligee she was wearing. Her strawberry blonde hair was a bit mussed from sleep and a cigarette was clung in her other hand.
"Well, hello sailor!" Lorette Lapinksy said, voice heavy from sleep and smoking way too much.
"And how are you this fine morning?"
"Well…" she began, taking another peek up and down the hall. She saw they were completely alone and took a daring step into the hallway. "I'm fine…now that you're here. Why don't you come in-?"
Blaine yawned. He really should've become an actor. "Oh, I'm sorry Lorette. But I've been working all night. I need sleep." He took a step up the staircase.
"Working, huh?" she sardonically asked.
"Yeah," Blaine said, taking another step away from her. "Really tired…worked all night…"
"Uh huh. I'll bet, ya' louse! And you know you're late with rent."
That stopped him in his tracks. "I'll have the rent as soon as I can. Plus…" he leaned over the banister, at least ten feet above her, extending his muscular arms and tight t-shirt, "I think we could work something out…as usual."
She smiled, gap-toothed and hideous. "Well, we'll see. So, where are you working at nights?"
Ever the witty one, Blaine said, "Oh, I'm auditioning for a part in the new movie 'Roman Holiday'!"
She scoffed. "That movie is already out." And then, she flirtatiously looked up at him and pulled a strap from her shoulder. "Besides, I think you would like 'Gentlemen Prefer Blondes'."
Blaine became the consummate actor and didn't shudder. "Maybe… Anyway, I'm off to bed." He raced up the stairs.
"I want my rent money!" she screamed.
He didn't answer. Instead, he raced down the hall, turned the key in the lock, and opened the door. It only took him five minutes to grease his hair, brush his teeth, shave, shit, and look even more handsome to the Lima community. He stared at himself in the mirror when he was done.
"You devil." Blaine said with a smile. Then he winked at himself and fled the apartment, ignoring his snoring dad, forgetting to take his medication, and flying down the staircase to avoid Lorette. After all, he had an adoring public to address.
.
AN: Soooo, what did you guy's think?
I wanted to show Blaine's life first. So you guys can get a better understanding of how life is for Blaine. Its not pretty. And it will get worse before it gets better.
I hope you guy's like this?
Anyways, Klaine is coming up. I promise. I'll try to update as soon as I can. I know this is short but as always it will get longer.
Again, if you have questions, please let me know. Have a nice day!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3