Author's Note: *Thanks to the reviewers*

Alrighty, so I know, I know – loner Klaine is so cliché, but trust me, there's reason behind this. In this chapter we're going to see a little more behind the scenes (and the reason behind this M-rating), and yes, there will be some angst. Don't kill me.

I want to formally apologize for the abnormal wait – I wanted to do updates once a week – but I had a bit of a depression bout over the weekend and the beginning of the week, so I was really out of it. But I'm back. So ready to entertain you guys – and I really hope you will forgive me for this crappy excuse of no updates.

Once again, disclaimer: All characters' names and appearances, places, etc. belong to RIB and FOX, all characteristics and events are my own imagination, no copyright infringement intended.

Without further ado, let's see what our boys are up to.

Chapter Three

It was the last period of the day and Blaine was running out of time, the dance was tomorrow and he was stalling. Damn his nerves.

Okay, just do it! he told himself. And, making sure that everyone left, he steeled his nerves, walked up to the blonde-haired boy just about to leave the classroom, tapping his shoulder tentatively.

"Um, Todd, do you have a sec?" he asked nervously.

Todd turned to him, and smiled warmly. You really couldn't ignore how adorable Blaine was.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Um," Blaine hesitated, his confidence all but evaporated. "Okay, I'm just gonna come out and say it, do you wanna go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me?" biting his lower lip and closing his eyes. Fearing Todd's answer.

Todd's eyebrows shot high up into his bangs. Wow. He wasn't expecting that one.

"Um, look Blaine… you're really cute and all, but I can't… not yet…" Todd blushed; looking around to make sure no one heard him.

Blaine's face fell marginally and nodded, "I guess I get it. I just thought we could, like, I dunno, go as friends? No one even has to know we're together- together, you know? If you want," he added hastily. Already deflating at the prospect of not having a real date to the dance, but he'll take what he could get.

Todd took a deep breath, not really sure how to answer the request.

"Oh, what the hell, we only live once, right?" he joked, and smiled as Blaine's face lit up like the adorable puppy that he was. "But as friends, okay?"

Blaine nodded vigorously. Already planning his outfit and the whole evening. It was going to be perfect.

It was a disaster.

The second he and Todd walked in, every head turned towards them, whispering behind their hands so obviously that Blaine wondered why even bother. And they haven't even been holding hands!

The second Todd sensed the tension, he turned his face regrettably to Blaine and whispered, "I'm sorry, I can't do this. Not yet." And he walked off to talk to one of the girls standing alone, trying his best to ignore Blaine's crestfallen face.

Pierce, one of the school's popular jocks, sauntered over, followed by his usual cronies, a smirk on his face at seeing Blaine standing there helplessly on his own.

"Hey, Anderson! What's up? Can't even get a fag to go with you to the dance?" he asked, the rest laughing with him like hyenas.

Blaine cowered in silence, he knew better than to argue with these idiots. No good came out of violence.

"I asked you a question, QUEER!" Pierce boomed, grabbing Blaine by the collar of his dress shirt. "Look at you, you won't fight, you won't answer, no wonder you're a fag!"

The entire room was silent. No one dared make a move, fearing they might receive the wrath of the jocks and risk their reputation at school.

Blaine stood his ground, though. "Just because I won't use violence and have more sense to think before I talk, it makes me automatically unmanly? Jeez, Pierce, what does that say about you?"

Pierce's hand closed tightly around Blaine's throat this time, his face red with rage, "Watch it, Anderson!" and with that, he dragged Blaine outside to the parking lot.

The rest of what happened was pretty foggy to Blaine. He couldn't exactly remember who did what – but he did remember the numbing pain. First came the blows to his stomach, then his head was bashed against a lamp post, and when he crumbled to the floor, he couldn't tell which way was up and which was down – the kicks and jeers were everywhere and he was just praying for it to be over.

And then it was over.

Darkness enveloped Blaine, and he was relieved for the reprieve from the pain and was content to just lie there, without anyone hurting him.

But it didn't last for long. Before he could fully appreciate the relief, he was hoisted up and carried away. He forced himself to open his eyes and saw that his father was there, carrying him towards their family car.

Turns out that Todd finally felt bad for Blaine, and called Blaine's father, telling him everything.

Little did Blaine know that the worst was yet to come.

Blaine's father carried him up to his bedroom, laying him on the bed and looking down on him. By this time, Blaine was almost completely conscious and looked up at his father.

"Dad. I don't get it, how did you…?"
"A Todd kid called the landline," Peter Anderson said, his face emotionless. "Said that the school's football team was beating you for showing up at a school dance. That they warned you not to come, because they didn't want fags there."

Blaine flinched at the derogatory, but otherwise didn't say anything.

"Blaine, please tell me that this kid was wrong. That the footballers were wrong. That you're not… a…"

"Gay? Blaine asked, once again feeling tears in his eyes Yeah, I am.". He hated appearing weak before his father, of all people, but he knew it was about time they had this talk.

Peter's eyes darkened and he ran his hand over his face. "Blaine, we already talked about this. I thought it was a phase; that you will grow out of it. Being… that… will only bring you trouble. I'm not surprised at what happened, but now everyone knows, so… I'm sorry, son, but we'll have to move you out of that school."

Blaine's eyes widened in shock. "Dad, being gay," his father flinched at the word but he went on, "being gay is not a choice! Why in the world would I choose to be humiliated and beat up by the rest of the school? Yeah, I like boys, I can't change that. I thought that at least my parents would understand me more than everyone else."

Blaine's father shook his head. "Look, it's gonna take time. Okay? Just… wait with telling your mother, will you? She still has a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you like to sing."

Blaine laughed darkly, "Tell me about it."

Blaine didn't want to go to school the upcoming Monday, but he knew that if he didn't, he would have to stay at home with his mother, which was kind of the worst option in the world right now – Peter told Angela Anderson that same night what happened, and Blaine could hear her shrieks of denial all the way up to his room on the second floor – and then there was the fact that the rumor mill would probably spin completely out of control that when he did show up, he would have to deal with a load of stares and whispers that he had no idea about. At least, with him there, he would have some idea of what to expect.

So, there he was, standing at his locker, closing his eyes against the stares, pointing fingers, whispers, snickers from all of his classmates. It was amazing that all these teenagers, most of them have been his friends since he stepped into the school, were now watching him with hostile glares while he tried to just get through the day unscathed.

A month flew by, and it hasn't improved, if anything – it worsened. Blaine became completely invisible at school, only speaking when spoken to, and trying to avoid everyone. Gone was the excited boy who just wanted to please his friends and sing his heart out. Now there was a shell of a boy who was just hoping to go unnoticed.

So, when his father told him that he and his mother were getting a divorce – somehow, she was unwilling to remain in a household and marriage where homosexuality was accepted – and that they were uprooting form Westerville to Lima, Blaine felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

A new place to start anew. Maybe he will be able to survive high school and even make some friends in the process.

Kurt Hummel was sitting on his bed in his basement bedroom, wringing his hands nervously while contemplating his resolution for the new school year. He was about to start high school tomorrow and he was about to do it as a proud and out gay teenager.

Last night he came out to his father, which was surprisingly easy. He nearly laughed out loud as he recalled what his father had told him – "Yeah, I know, kiddo. You spend all your time in front of that damn mirror with your face cream and stuff, and when you were three all you wanted for your birthday was a sensible pair of heels. How clueless do you think I am, huh?"

But that was his dad, the person with whom he lived his entire life and knew absolutely everything about him, yet never judged him. Tomorrow was high school. The most judgmental place he would ever face. He glanced at his chosen outfit for the momentous day and sighed. He was done hiding who he was.

The instance Kurt stepped into the hall of William McKinley High School, every single head turned in his directions and the whispering started immediately. Throughout the day, he was receiving rude and disgusted glances and not-so-discreet whispers of 'Yo! Hummel's a fag!', 'does he have to parade his fairy ass like that? If I wanted an ass show, I'd go to a strip club, not high school.'

His teachers were subtler about it, but not better – he had no idea how much homophobia had caught on in Lima until he arrived at his last class and the teacher, Mr. Samberg, gave him the dirtiest look he had received from the entire staff that day.

By the end of the day, Kurt wished he hadn't come at all. He had made no social interactions whatsoever, no one would look at him, and those who did would do it out of spite and finish it off with a scathing remark or an extended foot to trip him.

While he was waiting for the bus in the parking lot, wishing nothing more than to be home, he suddenly heard this big ruckus behind him and, stupidly, turned to see what was going on. The school jocks were walking toward him, followed closely by two other students who seemed to be freshmen – although they were really big in build – all looking enraged and had their fists clenched.

"Hey, fag!" the boy at the front of the group called, his face twisted up in a ferocious snarl.

Kurt paled and lowered his gaze, trying his best to not do anything that would warrant any type of unnecessary attention.

"I said, hey fag! What, you deaf now on top of being a fairy princess?" the boy smirked, now standing right in front of Kurt. "We wanted to ask you something."

Kurt gazed up, taking in the hatred in the boys' faces, but before he could respond he was knocked forcibly into the concrete underneath him, and he could hear raucous laughter above him.

"We wanted to know, how does it feel to be on the bottom?"

And with that, they walked away – cackling while Kurt was left, bruised and beat up, aching on the cold concrete bus stop.

From that day onwards, Kurt was a constant target for the footballers' bullying needs, had no friends whatsoever, and was practically invisible to the entire student body. His only social interactions were with his teachers, and even that was only for the purposes of his studies.

End note:

So, that's the backstory chapter. This is really just a filler to get a feel about where our beloved boys are coming from. The following chapters will go back to the present narrative. Stay tuned – and naturally, review!