Author's Note: My quest for beta is finally over. I'm posting the beta-d works before continuing with the story.
Chapter One: The Encounter
Doltore, Crystalvale
30-Sep-2019
09:02 AM
Today was different from other autumn days. The wind was unrelentingly chilly the past days, but for some reason, on this day, the sun was set high up giving an amicable, refreshing kiss of warmth on the skin's surface. Different colors of autumn leaves, good weather and lovely scenery made it appealing for couples to take a stroll in the local park, friends to visit touristy spots, or go hiking. The rustle of the leaves as wind blew blended in rhythmically with the cheerful mood of little kids on the street while half-dragging, half-tugging their mother's hand. A huge amount of giggling teenagers swarming around town sealed the deal that something was amiss today.
It's the time of the year again where Doltore, Crystalvale had turned into the most popular destination. The number of people in the area doubled compared to usual, which only meant more fervent teenage humans to deal with. They appeared to share this mutual intention to make their existence known, as well as this unspoken agreement in coming to this town.
This shouldn't be happening as Dalton Institute of Arcane had a fixed schedule to start their school year on the last Monday of September. It's the latest school in the entire Crystalvale to start. It was supposed to prevent unnecessary commotion from hopeful humans, especially those aggressive teenagers who had no reservation to pull a stunt just to know whether they're matched with a superhuman or not.
Those people tended to stay at the nearest possible establishment available to get a glimpse or accidentally bump into someone from the very famous and prestigious private school. This should explain the ruckus which was happening inside Bean Me Up, a three story modern design coffee shop. Usually, regular customers have been the ones filling seats for several hours around brunch time. On that day though, the shop was bustling to accommodate a large number of adolescents, noisy teenagers who were supposedly busy studying for class.
The lively atmosphere that radiated from the shop had invited more passersby to come in and order a cup of coffee or two. In contrast, a tall boy firmly stood outside sizing up the shop. He contemplated on leaving twice, only to decide against it. His indecisiveness couldn't be seen in his face as he has perfected such an act in the last few years. A cup of coffee wouldn't hurt his schedule for the day but he knew better, this was just another excuse for him to delay the inevitable. He didn't look forward for this day to come, ever.
Finally, the tall teen made a decision. He mentally skimmed through his checklist in his head, ticking the box once satisfied with it. He was wearing an Alexander McQueen layered collar shirt and he had deliberately left two buttons open. His fingers touched the layered red and white collars before he mentally ticked the appropriate box. Soon, his hand found his slim water print trousers which looked like it has been painted on his long legs. He dusted some nonexistent dirt then ticked the small box. Lastly, his hand went to his immaculate chestnut brown hair, but immediately halted before making its contact. He gave the box a big check.
Satisfied, he tugged the strap of his Marc Jacobs satchel close to his chest and strutted towards the packed coffee shop. His footsteps were heavy as he was wearing a pair of black leather knee high boots. His mid-length sleeveless wool coat swayed in rhythm with his motion. Choice of clothes aside, the way he carried himself with such grace and regality which a normal teenager would lack, made his presence even more noticeable.
The guard flashed a blinding smile in his direction before opening the door. The customers' reactions were instantaneous upon seeing a new arrival. Some discreetly moved closer to their friends, whispering, while others gawked - obviously appraising the new customer whether he's a target.
Humans sought any form of connection with a superhuman because the odds of knowing someone was far better than nothing at all. Those who were acquainted with superhumans often bragged about it thus improving their social standing. It even went as far as being envied upon by their fellow humans. Present generation of humans put the other race on a pedestal.
Humans weren't the only ones at fault in this, superhumans were partly responsible. There's a lot to expect when a human got acquainted with a superhuman; unlimited shopping, dining in luxurious restaurants which normally require months wait to secure a spot, invited to parties, and everything was care of the superhuman. It's actually like having a personal walking bank.
The way the customers stared at him was gravitating more on the rude side and it caused him to be defiant. He held his head a little higher, his well-groomed eyebrow cocked in challenge for any brave soul to approach him. A lot of the crowd averted their eyes, some had pretended to be preoccupied with their phones, while there's those groups who were dead set on their goal and so they didn't stop staring. Surely, the word discretion existed in the dictionary for a reason.
An employee has been all smiles despite the huge volume of customers on that day. "Hi! Good morning. What can I get you?"
"Grande non-fat mocha." The teenager nonchalantly answered.
"Would you like some scones to go with your coffee?" Her chirpy tone continued.
"No thank you... Sara." His eyes flicked to her nameplate. He was pulling a ten dollar bill from his wallet when she spoke, again.
"How about a muffin?" Sara's voice was hopeful and her smile wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
He rolled his eyes and didn't even bother hiding his unimpressed reaction. Obviously, her poor attempt to sell their product wasn't really working and he was close to giving the employee a piece of his mind when a barista had stepped in.
"Sara, I'll take it from here." A female barista dismissed.
"But-"
"I'll take it from here." She repeated in a manner that was not up for discussion. "Your usual, Kurt?"
This earned a few gasps from customers. But for Kurt, nothing else mattered except the female employee, which according to her nameplate she's Lena. She had the same smiley face which was starting to irk him.
He rolled his eyes and with the same detachment he had given to Sara he said, "Grande non-fat mocha." Kurt passed his ten dollar bill to Lena, "Keep the change."
Kurt was scanning the crowded room for any available table when a voice grabbed his attention.
"Excuse me, but do you go to Dalton?" A redhead teenage girl inquired. Her attempt to appear innocent was poorly executed, and not even a large amount of makeup could hide how money hungry she really was. It appeared she was with the group of giggling girls near the counter by the way they were closely watching the whole interaction unfold like a hawk.
It dawned on him that they had heard the barista. The word usual meant patrons, people had interpreted patrons as people living around the area, and by around the area means Dalton. Kurt definitely fits in the criteria as a possible student because of his age.
Kurt has never been more thankful for the sound of a bell followed by the barista announcing his name. Without a second thought, he grabbed his coffee order and went straight for the stairs.
"Hey! I asked if you go to Dalton." The female teenager's facade crumbled. She yelled, pissed at being ignored. This garnered them some onlookers.
He looked over his shoulder and answered in a very bored tone. "No."
It made his entire search easier for an available seat. Information just like this one tended to spread like a wildfire. How people spread the information was beyond him.
Bean Me Up was considered the hottest place to hangout if your purpose in life was to hunt a superhuman. The shop was located a block away from the famous D.I.A, and it has been serving insanely good coffee as well as freshly baked cakes and pastries that tasted divine for ten years.
Its interior was nothing but stylish like the building's exterior; the three floors were made of hand scraped wood flooring while the walls accentuated with wenge panels. There were porcelain coffee cups inspired chandeliers, vibrant artwork lined the walls, and floor to ceiling windows on the first two floors.
The first floor had the cozy vibe without having to compromise the shop's modernity. Various table sizes with chairs all made of wood were carefully arranged to accommodate a large number of customers without seeming too crowded. Meanwhile, on the second floor, was a favorite area with loveseats and comfortable lounge chairs all in a cream color. Unlike the first floor, the second floor had lesser seats which gave a decent distance from other tables. Needless to say, the privacy it offered was more than enough to attract couples to occupy the floor. The third floor was filled with plush white booths paired with round black wooden tables. This area was meant for big groups, and oftentimes, customers didn't bother climbing here. The floor wasn't hunter friendly, it's inconvenient because there weren't windows available to overlook the outside view.
Kurt loved the third floor.
Kurt had found himself sitting alone at the semi-circle shaped booth, a few seats away from a group of flirting teenagers. His left hand cradled his untouched coffee, waiting for it to reach his desired temperature. His right hand rested on the table, thumb was absently caressing the ring on his forefinger. This action had caused the corner of his mouth to curl upward for the briefest of moments before he schooled his usual impassive face.
The boy gazed at his ring without meaning to stop his thumb's motion. It's a hand-crafted, thick platinum band, adorned with an elegantly cut oblong shaped black opal. The stone was rich and bursting with color; it consists mostly of navy blue and a shade lighter. However, it paled next to the color red despite lesser in number. The shade strongly resembled a hot magma, making it more noticeable at first glance. There were also flecks of greens amongst it. Almost unrecognizable given how loud the two other colors, yet it's still there, a part of the mix despite how soft it looks. On the sides of the band were intricately engraved vines, and along the base of the ring were detailed tiny leaves seemingly being carried by the wind.
Of all his possessions, Kurt valued this ring the most.
His action came to a halt when his phone vibrated. It has been going on and on since he woke up, yet it never piqued his interest. He knew half of its content anyway. His phone vibrated yet again, it looked like whoever was on the other line, the person was even more determined to get a response from him. Kurt huffed, then finally checking his mobile.
27 text messages
9 missed calls
6 voicemails
He rolled his eyes and quickly deleted the voicemails simply because he didn't want to hear them, even missed calls weren't checked. Kurt skipped some messages, he read and replied only to those he deemed important.
I'm already here at the auditorium, where are you son? - Dad
Just left the house, woke up late. Sorry dad, I don't think I can make it. - Kurt
Kurt didn't bat an eye while saying such a lie to his father. He had done this countless of times and he wasn't planning to change anytime soon. Kurt doesn't hate his father, things like this just come naturally when he grew older. Things that his young, naive self would never have dared do. He's almost fifteen now, a lot had happened that turned him this way. He thumbed his phone screen to find other important texts.
Kent weyt 2cu, bat sho urself wen u r redy. I won't mind. xoxo – Britt
Me too. See you... soon. x – Kurt
Njoy ur time at the coffee shop. :D :P No rush. Just take care tho. I love U, always. - Jeff
I know. Be lenient today. Love you too, blondie. - Kurt
It has been a week since the last time he saw Brittany and Jeffrey. In reality, it has been a week since he started avoiding them. Kurt was slowly extracting himself around people who he couldn't afford to get involved in the future. He could practically taste the impending doom lurking around the corner. This year would not be the same as his previous years, not that his past was any better. However, Kurt knew, deep down it was only a matter of time that he will be targeted.
The words of the male newscaster echoed repeatedly in his head.
"...she went missing during their family vacation..."
"...seven days without any lead..."
"...her parents are willing to reward $7,000,000 to anyone who can bring back their daughter..."
"...the Headquarter is doing everything they can to track the kidnappers..."
"...soulmate refused to be interviewed..."
"...President Sue Sylvester required self-defense to be taught during physical education class. Home-schooled or not..."
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, willing those thoughts to disappear. His grip tightened around the cup until visible steam was coming out from it. He had immediately loosened his grip before he drained it in one go. The coffee provided the tiniest comfort but he was grateful nonetheless. He has been tense and increasingly moody for the past week and having to listen for the same news, same topic and the same things being aired all over the world didn't really help. Even human television channels were reporting the same thing for the last seven days.
He cursed under his breath. Something he only does when he was stressed. Unwilling to stay in the shop any longer, he decided to leave. Kurt twirled in one hand the empty cup, a noticeable handprint now marked on it before tossing it to the nearby bin. He was too occupied in his litany of curses that he had almost missed the commotion.
Sara was back manning the cash register, and she was trying, albeit failing miserably, to keep a smiling face at the kid in front of her.
In his opinion, the kid was no more than five and was equally frustrated as Sara. His big cerulean eyes were close to tears, red cupid bow lips were trembling, his hands were tugging his black suspenders while shifting from one foot to another. He looked so lost.
Kurt looked around to see who was with him, but there's none that struck him as a companion. Customers behind the kid were growing impatient with the lack of progress in the line. The teenager felt like he was missing something vital, he tilted his head to one side as if doing so would help him figure it out. And for some reason, it did.
He closely studied the boy, his untamed, brunette curly mop hair falling across his eyes, he had thick eyebrows, long lashes, cherub cheeks, and tanned skin. The kid was wearing a crisp white dress shirt with few buttons open, knee-length grey shorts secured with black suspenders, black socks and black oxfords.
Kurt exhaled as soon as it clicked. With a heavy heart, he went towards the counter. He seldom does this, like once in a blue moon kind of rare. He disliked people being nosy, and since he had such standard, he too made sure not to stick his nose in someone's business.
As the distance between him and the kid lessened, he could hear Sara's exasperated voice.
"Listen kid, you need to move so that actual customers can order."
The kid opened his mouth, only to close it not long after. He had repeated the action thrice before he puffed out his cheeks.
Kurt thought the kid was a tad bit stubborn when the little boy had matched his huffing with creased eyebrows. His eyes sparked in fondness watching the small kid.
"Kid, you need to find your mother if you want to buy something." She completely dropped her pretense of appearing friendly to the kid.
Meanwhile, other employees were sparing glances from their work stations while in the middle of completing orders. No one really attempted to mediate the situation and Lena obviously wasn't around. He wondered how long Sara has been working in the shop because her apparent cluelessness almost astounded Kurt. The teenager may have been a regular yet he never bothered taking note of the employees. It was only his coffee order he cared about.
"Hey. Why are you alone in such a place?" Kurt casually addressed the kid.
An answer would be nice if the small boy hasn't decided yet that Kurt's interesting enough to look at. The kid didn't utter a single word and simply stared at the older boy.
Another eye roll followed by a huff from Kurt. He gave Sara a pointed look. "What's his order?"
Sara mumbled something about 'arrogant' and 'weirdos' which didn't escape Kurt's sharp hearing. Against his better judgement, he remained silent. Kurt wasn't the calm type of person to begin with, he's more on the opposite side and not flipping out was already a miracle for him.
"The kid wanted a hot chocolate and probably thinks he could get it here for free." She replied haughtily.
He shifted his gaze back to the kid who's yet to peel his eyes away from him. For unknown reasons it made him uncomfortable, which was saying something because few people had that kind of effect on him. "Do you still want your hot chocolate?"
The kid's eyes grew bigger, if that's even possible, before he eagerly nodded. His curls bounced repeatedly, somehow covering his large eyes. Without thinking Kurt reached out to brush it away. The simple gesture resulted for the kid to look intently at Kurt, more focused than ever. There was something in his eyes which Kurt didn't have the chance to analyze as the kid completely buried his face in Kurt's coat.
Kurt froze, shocked with the fact that someone was in his personal space. The person was close, too close, and he didn't care that he was just a kid. He never allowed anyone in his space unless he was certain they could be trusted. Who was he kidding, even those people he trusted were at arm's length.
The kid probably sensed the teenager's uneasiness because he quickly released his coat. He also maintained a little distance between them with eyes firmly downcast.
The sight of the little boy withdrawing tugged at Kurt's heartstrings. He reached out to ruffle his hair, as if his way to reassure the boy that it's fine. Kurt didn't have to wait long as a small hand slowly gripped his coat. When he glanced at the boy, he had already expected to find him staring. It's uncomfortable at first, but decided this whole watching thing must be a quirk.
"Make it a peppermint hot chocolate with whipped cream."
Sara worked the register while wearing her sour expression. Kurt would normally throw something sarcastic about her manners but decided to be the bigger person and let it go. He pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet then gave it to a frowning Sara. Before she could open her mouth, Kurt spoke. "Keep the change."
He left the counter with the kid still holding his coat. Without a word he handed the hot chocolate to the kid then he started to look for any available table. The shop was still packed with teenagers who had no plans of leaving anytime soon. Kurt was ready to take the kid upstairs when he caught sight of one available seat. It was not his idea of a free table, however if he wanted to find the kid's companion going upstairs wouldn't be the best choice. He reluctantly trudged towards the table.
Kurt instantly recognized the red-headed girl from earlier. He scrunched his nose in distaste as he was about to share a table with the likes of her.
"Is this seat available?"
The group stopped their conversation, some snickered upon recognizing him. Just like what Kurt had done, they also ignored him and went back to their discussion.
He rolled his eyes at them. Something that he had been doing since he came in here. "I'll take that as a yes." He drawled.
The girl closest to the available seat shrugged.
Kurt motioned the kid to take the seat and he did, but not without struggling as he had refused to let go of his drink. He buttoned the kid's dress shirt the moment he successfully climbed onto his seat.
"Where's your bow tie?" Kurt pointed at his now closed buttons. It was hard to tell whether the kid was intentionally ignoring him or was just smitten with his drink. He was leaning towards the latter because he wouldn't stop sipping it. Kurt wanted to stop him, afraid he was going to burn his tongue if he kept drinking. However, he seemed alright so in the end Kurt let him be.
"Who are you with?" He attempted a different approach but nothing seemed to work on this kid. The only thing he could get from him was his interest. The kid was doing the creepy staring thing again.
Kurt had even considered that the kid probably took seriously his parents warning about 'Don't speak to strangers'. Well, he could leave the kid in here and proceed with his day. However, there was something about him that was stopping Kurt from doing so. What was it? He didn't know.
"Can you talk?"
This made the boy puff his cheeks in a very adorable way while his thick brows furrowed. Kurt was starting to find it rather cute.
"How about you nod if you can talk?"
The kid bobbed his head while sipping on his cup.
"Where's your bow tie?" He made a gesture like tying an invisible ribbon around his neck. For the record, Kurt never did something this ridiculous in public. Why he was doing it now, he didn't know.
The boy smiled toothily in understanding. He pulled out from his pocket a blue and red striped tie.
Hearing people gasp near them, Kurt somehow predicted this would happen. Their response was getting old, real fast, with the amount it was used when he had stepped into this shop. He also could imagine them flabbergasted, probably not expecting a penniless kid was from the school nearby. And if that was the case, they should step up their game if they really wanted to meet a superhuman.
He sighed tiredly as he silently fixed the kid's tie. Just as he was pulling it tightly, he caught sight of a girl from the group inching closer to them. Apparently she was interested to start a conversation which Kurt was ready to turn down when an old man in a black suit followed by two burly men came into view.
"Master Reed!" The old man crouched to level his eyes with his master. He grabbed the kid's arms, his voice laced with worry. "We've been looking for you everywhere."
The two burly men eyed Kurt suspiciously, they flanked him to make sure he wouldn't run away.
Kurt took a step back on reflex, only to feel the cold wood against his back.
Once the old man was certain his master was unharmed, his gaze shifted to the tall teenager. He was nicely dressed though in a flamboyant way. And even when he was cornered without any chance of escaping, he neither exhibited panic nor fear. His eyes had these vibrant colors yet it lacked the brightness that supposedly was in there. What was terrifying to see in those eyes were the coldness and hard glare. A telltale that things mustn't have been too easy on him as well. "What's your name?"
The teenager met a set of weary eyes, he had reminded him of someone. The old man probably was the same age as… he immediately dismissed the idea.
There was a flicker of emotion in those eyes for the briefest second before it was gone, and instead replaced with an unreadable expression. He once again glanced at his master and just noticed an empty cup he was holding. He gestured for the two bodyguards to leave, they followed his order quickly. The young man remained in place, eyes wary. He could see how guarded the boy was, he had these invisible high walls surrounding him. He could tell this teenager was full of cracks, if not broken already. "I won't hurt you."
Kurt crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrow. "You can't, even if you try."
The old man was taken aback by how he said those words. He sounded very confident, certain, like he wouldn't allow anyone to touch him. "Well, thanks for the drink… I guess." He awkwardly nodded to his master's empty cup. His master remained silent. He hardly even acknowledged his presence, his attention mostly on the teenager like he was the most fascinating human being in the world.
"Don't. I don't need it." said Kurt when the old man opened his wallet.
"Well then, thank you…" He trailed off.
"I don't think you should bother knowing someone's name who you might not meet again."
"I feel like I'll be seeing you again, soon." He glanced at his master whose gaze was fixated on the young man.
Kurt followed the old man's eyes and for the first time he met the boy's gaze. His eyes were so blue, like how the ocean looked during the summer - bright and vibrant. And suddenly, he felt like something had shifted inside him.
The old man study the exchange, the teenage boy was unconsciously leaning towards his master. Gone was the set of icy cold eyes, however it's replaced with extreme sadness. The walls surrounding him lowered instantly to reveal a very broken boy. He looked younger and more vulnerable, quite the opposite of the confident teenage boy he portrayed earlier. He had the urge to cradle him just like his master when he silently cried at night.
"Reed."
He sucked in his breath. It has been years since his master initiated a conversation with someone aside from his parents and him. And it's the very first he made the first move to talk to a complete stranger. His master didn't like other people. As his butler, he still struggled to completely understand him. However, he often heard him say he didn't trust people.
Kurt blinked a couple of times to get rid of his own haze. He shook his head and frowned. "What?"
"My name is Reed Larson. What's yours?"
Kurt wasn't the friendly type either, but there's just something about this kid. He had this feeling of understanding of who knows what. Without a doubt the kid made him curious. "Kurt."
"Kurt…" Thick eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed in thought.
Kurt couldn't help but find the kid adorable. "Kurt Sterling." He supplied as he offered his hand.
His frown deepened. He eyed Kurt's hand before he shook his head. "Why are you lying?"
This time it was Kurt's turn to be surprised.
The old man was watching, mainly Kurt. His whole demure was the same, he didn't tense or fidget. Nothing. He looked at his master who was giving an unwavering stare at Kurt. This was why people didn't like Reed, his eccentricity was hard to understand. They deemed him stubborn. And although he knew his master since birth, he couldn't fully grasp his master's thought.
"I'm not lying."
"Yes, you are."
"Okay, I think I'm done here. I need to go." Kurt directed it to the old man.
"Jonathan Pennington. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kurt Sterling." He extended his hand for a shake.
Kurt gave a brief yet firm handshake. He was about to leave when the old man added. "Are you going back to Dalton?"
Long forgotten were those customers who were shamelessly eavesdropping. So when they heard murmurs, Kurt almost snapped at them.
"What made you think I go to Dalton." Kurt mentioned the name of the school with an obvious contempt.
There was a pause, he eyed Kurt critically before smiling. "A young man who carries himself in any given situation with such calmness definitely goes to Dalton."
Kurt chuckled, not really feeling any humor. "You seem fond of that school."
"I heard a lot about it." He smiled.
He carefully picked his next words, his eyes travelled to Reed then back to Jonathan. "You obviously didn't hear enough."
Jonathan Pennington shrugged in confusion. "So, are you going back to Dalton?"
"Yeah."
"You're lying. Why do you do it?" Reed frowned, displeased with Kurt's action.
He gave Reed a hard look which was met with an equally stubborn one from the kid. Kurt raised his brow in challenge which Reed tried to copy as best as he could, only failing miserably as both brows shot up. Kurt chuckled softly, he found the kid's presence a breath of fresh air. He glanced one last time at Jonathan, then left without saying anything.
As always, Kurt strutted confidently down the street without paying much attention to his surroundings. The direction he was heading was familiar and he could arrive at the place with his eyes closed. He could hear the birds chirping happily, the comfortable warm air against his face, the loud honk of cars on the street, and as he was getting closer to his destination, the oh so familiar giggles.
He stopped right next to a girl who was clutching a petite teenage boy, they were in the middle of a heated discussion. There was a handful of teenagers there as well. Honestly, Kurt was surprised at seeing a smaller crowd in front of the school, with the dedication he had witnessed earlier in the shop he thought a lot of them considered to camp here.
His gaze traveled across the street.
Old, red brick walls towering over them. It stretched long down the street, unable to see where it ended. At the center, was an equally high, imposing wrought, black iron gate with a gold letter 'D' adorned on each side. There was an unending line of town cars waiting to undergo a thorough check up by dozens of guards before being granted entry onto the school's premises. After passing through the wide open black gates, the only visible sight to see was the well manicured lawn. Not a single building in view. For an autumn season, the landscape was uncharacteristically green and lush, it could be easily mistaken as spring season instead. The place simply screamed perfection, wealth, and power.
Kurt bit his lip, mind working overdrive as his eyes remained at the entrance. He was tapping his right shoe and his temporary calmness dissipated. He threw his head backwards, eyes closed, he was figuring out his next step. He could hear the noises around him, the fresh smell of something baking mixed with the unpleasant cigarette smoke coming from the adult who passed by. When he opened his eyes, there was a smirk playing on his lips. His feet began moving away from the place. Today, students must return to Dalton. Technically, there was still a good thirteen hours and six minutes before the day ends. Kurt made sure to spend it away from Dalton.
Dalton Institute of Arcane
Doltore, Crystalvale
30-Sep-2019
10:45 AM
It was a tradition in Dalton to conduct an opening ceremony - a way to welcome incoming freshmen and new students, as well as returning ones. The event lasted for two hours wherein the Master of Ceremony would introduce this year's faculty and of course the Headmaster. Like the previous years, the said event was held at the high school auditorium, perfect to accommodate a large crowd. All seats were red upholstered and there were also box seatings meant for dignitaries. The room had an unreasonable amount of lighting scattered everywhere.
"Dalton Institute of Arcane will be your home while away from your families. We understand the apprehension of parents in sending their child to a boarding school this year due to the unfortunate event that occurred last week. However, fear not, all the faculty, myself included, will do our very best to protect every student during their stay at Dalton." A deep and confident voice boomed inside the large auditorium filled with high school students clad in navy blue blazers with red piping. Well dressed parents and the school's benefactors were also present.
The Headmaster was talking for almost an hour already. He was quite dashing in his plaid button down under a tailored cut burgundy tuxedo finished with a black bow tie. His muscles were apparent even under the layers of clothing. He was wearing a lone jewelry on his left ear, a thick 24 carat gold hoop with a black diamond embedded in the center. He spoke in a manner as if addressing someone in particular instead of a crowd, and the way he smiled seemed calculated. Although it could be easily mistaken as reserved.
"Isn't Headmaster Brody the headmaster during mom and dad's time?" A boy asked no one in particular.
A chuckle came next to him, before the person side eyed him in amusement. "Actually, the school was under his administration during my grandfather's."
The boy with heavily gelled hair perked up. His hazel eyes gleamed in awe. At this point in time anything could catch his interest because he was dying of boredom. He admitted he barely knew about their Headmaster aside from the general fact that he was the first ever Headmaster to be able to run the entire D.I.A. "Does it mean-"
The dark skinned student's attention immediately abandoned the speaker and went to the boy beside him. He nodded in approval, clearly relieved for this most welcome distraction. He was undeniably bored out of his mind and grateful to be put out of misery. "Yeah, I heard he is immortal. Just look at him, he barely ages. He looks like he is thirty, when in reality he might be eighty. He's here for God knows how long."
"Oh heavens, David. Shut up!" An asian male student appeared right next to David. He bends lower to get a good sight of the heavily gelled boy, a long slim finger pointing to him. "You too." He hissed. "Don't be disrespectful to Headmaster Brody."
He snickered at the bemused expression of the boy next to him. "Name's David Thompson." He offered a hand to shake.
"Blaine Anderson." They exchange a firm handshake. His eyes travelled to the Asian, unsure what to make of him.
"He doesn't bite." David encouraged. "He is just your typical uptight student."
The statement made the Asian glare at the speaker. He glanced at Blaine. "Wesley Montgomery, but Wes is fine. Nice to meet you Blaine." They exchanged pleasantries then admonished his best friend. "You should behave appropriately too."
"I'm behaving as best as I can." David said playfully.
Unable to stop himself, Blaine blurted out. "You complement each other."
"Shit man, no!" David and Wes whirled their heads in a rather comical way and at the same time hissed at him.
Blaine chuckled at their horrified faces. He could already see himself being good friends with them in no time. "No, really-"
"You better stop Anderson." Wes warned. "Don't jinx my future of having a decent soul mate."
Blaine frowned at this.
"Imagine my horror if I see your name on my left wrist." David looked up then grimaced at his own statement. "Fuck. I can't even picture."
"Uh… I don't mean to… do you… are you…" Blaine was lost for words. He didn't know if they were homophobic, or if they were even gay to begin with. He was just teasing them.
His anxiety must had painted on his face because Wes reached for his shoulder and patted it.
"Hey, it's fine. We don't have any issues when it comes to sexuality, what gender you prefer to like doesn't define a person. Our race is more tolerant than humans so you shouldn't be worried. The fates also match two individuals from the same gender, if it's wrong then it would never happen. When you fall in love that's it, there's no necessary equation to solve the mystery."
Blaine nodded and smiled gratefully at Wes. He couldn't trust himself to speak without getting all emotional. The society where they lived may have been accepting with people like him. However he also had a very brief experience on how it felt to be viewed as a freak by his human relatives no less.
It was in fifth grade when Blaine started wondering why he didn't have girl crushes. Sure, Blaine found them dainty and cute, except he never had the desire to go all 'touchy-feely' on them like his male classmates would behave. Until some transfer student came along.
Chandler Kiehl, a cheerful and talkative blonde boy from Suncrest, Crystalvale - three hours drive north from the main city of Crystalvale. Due to his bubbly nature, Blaine easily got along with him. He remembered how often he had mentioned him to his mother. She would smile in response and told him to invite Chandler next time.
Everything became more confusing after, to one young Blaine Anderson. When they had held hands, his stomach felt a little bit weird, something that was absent when he did the same with his female friends. So he dismissed it as having a stomach bug of some kind.
In sixth grade, Chandler was gone. Blaine went to the principal's office and asked the secretary about Chandler after a week of not seeing his friend. He had found out he didn't enroll for the year. Disappointed and betrayed by his so called friend, Blaine sulked for days. He unloaded his frustration to his mother about him leaving without notice. His mother was patient to listen, to console, before she asked if he liked Chandler.
Blaine was undeniably confused at that time but answered nonetheless. Yes, he liked Chandler because they were friends, why would he befriend someone he didn't like. However the succeeding questions became weirder; 'Do you also like your female friends?' , 'If one of your female friends transferred without telling you, would you get mad?', 'You never mention having a crush at school.'. The list of questions stretched even more until Blaine finally pondered about it one night. He liked Chandler because holding hands and laughing with him felt right, comfortable even. But, whether he liked him the way his mother was implying, definitely not. Chandler was just a friend, nothing more.
As months went by, Blaine was perfectly fine without him anymore. He still had other friends around. Also he noticed how he was more attentive to a certain boy or boys in class. This scared him. He was afraid of the idea that something was wrong with him. And then, sharing things with his mother has never been like before - honest and carefree. Blaine opted for edited versions, he made sure to intentionally skip a certain topic.
He bottled everything up. Attempted to spend more time with his father, watching football games and even went as far as joining him to rebuild a car during summer break. Probably getting grease on his hands would do the trick. He thought it was just a phase, it would go away soon. With all the bonding between him and his father who's often busy with work as a lawyer, they became closer.
Despite his attempts though, nothing seemed to work. His eyes still subtly lingered on cute random boys and he still found boobs appalling. Realization hit him hard, it's not a phase anymore and he was terrified to tell his parents. His mother might understand since she has always been, however he couldn't say the same with his father. His father was attentive to their family even when his work demanded most of his time, it didn't mean he could tolerate everything. He was afraid being gay was one of them.
His fear had resulted for him to withdraw from his family. He was fretting most of the time and too careful around his parents to avoid any missteps that could give away his secret. It went to the point of him spending most of his time alone, watching DVDs in his room, and only talking to his parents when it was necessary.
It was during dinner, when his father was home early that he was no longer able to hold himself in. His parents was making an effort to start a conversation wherein he normally found interesting and could talk about it for hours. Instead, he just blurted out that he's gay. A deafening silence followed his confession. His parents sat motionless even when his sister started whining from the lack of attention from their mother. Blaine's eyes were burning a hole in his own plate as he was dreading to see the disappointment from his father or his mother's pity expression cast in his direction.
Nathaniel Anderson was the one who broke the silence. His tone was serious yet kind. He had admitted Pamela had suspicion. They already talked about it for months and were only waiting for him to approach them. He patiently explained that although the majority of their population was composed of heterosexuals, there was also a good portion of homosexual people. Acceptance would easily come from superhuman society because of the concept of soulmate. However, not everyone around the world would have the same level of understanding, this was Nathaniel's reminder to Blaine. Their night ended with a bone crushing hug from Blaine's parents and they reminded him how much they loved him. Blaine cried that night, overwhelmed with his emotions - happiness mixed with relief of finally being true to anyone.
Christmas during his eight grade was something remarkable to say the least. Blaine's parents hosted a gathering wherein almost all their relatives were able to attend. Human relatives were quite common to have. One of the human families praised Blaine's talent after demonstrating his skill in playing the piano effortlessly. Compliments about his handsome features were also included not long after.
Blaine never forgot his manners, always polite with everyone, always had a smile for everyone. Until one of his aunts asked if he had a girlfriend. His smile became wider and proudly informed he was gay. It went downhill from there. He heard his human cousins derogatory remarks as well as caught sight of his aunts and uncles' disgusted looks all aimed at him. Blaine tried his hardest to pretend he never noticed them. However his gift proved it impossible.
His mood dampened which didn't go unnoticeable to his father. He questioned him what was wrong. Since Blaine didn't want to spoil the occasion, he lied. An excuse about having a lot of people triggered a headache. His father bought it since he frequently had them when he was younger due to his ability.
He thought he could keep it until the end and avoid any commotion from happening, but boy he was wrong. Pamela heard a snide comment from one of their human relatives and it was enough to start a scene. There were angry voices, more hurtful comments, then it turned into full blown shouting from his enraged father. It was the first time he had witnessed his father shed his calm demure. He told everyone inside the house to leave if they had a problem with Blaine being gay or he would drag them out himself. Almost half of their relatives were escorted out of their compound, all were humans. Those who were left shook their heads, eyes tinged with disapproval of the poor attitude displayed by their relatives.
It made two things clear to Blaine on that fateful night. First, how his parents truly loved him unconditionally. And secondly, he was beyond thankful he was born superhuman. He couldn't imagine growing up in a human household and being shunned by his own family. Living in a community wherein most people treated a gay person as an abomination.
"Fucking finally." David exhaled in relief which brought Blaine out of his trance.
Blaine focused his attention back to the stage. Headmaster Brody Weston was no longer standing at the podium, it was now replaced with Mr. Elliot Gilbert, the master of ceremony. He announced a few reminders, mainly focused on freshman students and new students next activity.
Mr. Gilbert was dressed in a pristine white dress shirt paired with a black skinny tie, topped with a blue pinstripe suit. Jet black hair with silver highlights tousled in a stylish way. He had a strong jaw line and stubble, broad shoulders and a compact body. The black eyeliner he was wearing somehow brought out his eye color. His blue eyes appeared like shining crystals under the lights and his thick eyebrows only added to the intensity of his gaze. It was hard to decipher whether he was smiling or smirking, either way it made him look hot. And, like Headmaster Brody, he was wearing the same earring on the same location.
"...Students councils or so we like to call them The Prefects are at the ground floor for the campus tour. A number in red print can be found inside the envelope which corresponds with the placards set by The Prefects. Make sure to meet your tour guide before going anywhere. That is all. Thank you for attending today's ceremony. Welcome to Dalton Institute of Arcane." Contrary to Mr. Gilbert's edgy appearance, his voice was smooth and easy on the ears.
"What number did you get man?" asked David as he looked for his.
"Eleven?" Blaine was holding a small card with number eleven written in red ink just like Mr. Gilbert had told them.
"Cool! I'm with you." Wes joined in. He stood up from his chair and stretched lazily as students started to leave the auditorium.
"Me too!" David jumped out of his seat and made a fist pump.
The three agreed to meet at the ground floor then went to find their own families.
Blaine darted his way to where his parents were waving at him. He was met with an armful of his mother once he arrived. "I'm going to miss my baby boy."
The freshman cringed. "Mom! I'm not a kid anymore. I even have a soulmate." He protested.
"Doesn't matter. It seems like yesterday I was still changing your nappy-"
"Dad!" Blaine interrupted in horror. He eyed his father pleadingly to stop his mother from saying anything more embarrassing.
Nathaniel failed to contain his laughter making his daughter stir awake in his arms. "Oh, Daddy is sorry Brook." His voice softened, bobbing his three turning four year old as she was about to cry.
Brooklyn Anderson was Blaine's younger sister. Their big age gap was something their mother called an Anderson thing because his father and older brother had fifteen years gap. Nevertheless it was working for Blaine and his sister so well. The latter became too attached with the former, who in return wanted to play the big brother card all the time. Blaine was his sister's ideal prince charming.
Both Anderson siblings inherited what was considered good genes. Brooklyn looked more like their mother Pamela Anderson. Her black shoulder length wavy hair was tied in pigtails, long eyelashes damp with tears and her big green eyes looked accusingly at her father. Five freckles dusted above her tiny nose were more visible in close distance. Her cheeks had a natural pinkish shade, her plump lips were red and skin fair. Meanwhile, Blaine could pass as his father except for the height, which he took after his mother. If there was something he wished to trade, it's his bird's nest hair. He would give anything to have his mother's wavy hair. Besides, he could live with his height since he strongly believed his growth spurt would shoot up for the next years to come.
"Anyway, I want to meet Kurt." Pamela said once she was certain her daughter stopped crying. "Thanksgiving, yeah?" Her voice hopeful.
Blaine grimaced, his right arm resting around his mother's shoulder. "You don't know if he is attending Dalton Mom."
Pamela exchanged a knowing glance with her husband. She heard Nathaniel chuckle, then she looked back at their pouting son.
"Mom? Do you know something about my Kurt."
"Oh, I see where this is leading us sweetheart." Nathaniel winked at his wife but winced almost immediately when his daughter roughly pulled his hair.
"Yes, keep pulling Dad's hair princess. Good girl- ouch!" He yelped when his mother elbowed him. "It's not my fault my sister's the only one who loves me." Blaine deliberately pouted, his eyes blinking like a sad puppy.
"Blainey!" Brook's high pitched voice followed. She squirmed in their father's arms and extended her hands for her brother.
"Here we go again." Pamela sighed but she was smiling at their two children. She detached herself from Blaine and went beside her husband.
Nathaniel grimaced as Brook was unminding where her small fists landed. He pulled away his head as he passed his daughter to his son.
"C'mere princess." Blaine happily accepted his sister.
"Awl you 'kay?" Both small hands grabbed Blaine's cheeks. Green eyes met hazel. Brook could barely pronounce letter 'R', so it often sounded 'wl' not to mention she seemed like chewing most of her words. "Huwlt?"
"Nah, if you give Blainey a kiss then I feel great again."
Brook was more than happy to plant a wet kiss on Blaine's left cheek and patted his gelled hair. "Now you 'kay."
Their parents watched in fondness.
"Anyway Dad, Mom. Are you gonna tell me what was your not so subtle exchange earlier?" Blaine eyed his parents suspiciously. He let his sister fiddle with his tie, he would just fix it later.
"It's just a hunch B." His father shrugged dismissively.
"Hunch about?"
"Kurt. You know, it's really hard to dismiss the idea."
"I really appreciate it if you tell me what you mean without pausing mom." This time Blaine was nervous.
"Well, your mom and I think Kurt Hummel is from the same family of Hummel in our society."
Blaine's eyes went wide. He never actually considered the possibility. Besides, "They are one of the very few old families that is still around, right? It can't be, I mean there might be other Hummels around. Who knows, maybe Kurt's a human."
Nathaniel's eyebrows scrunched at Blaine's statement.
Blaine's shoulders sagged. He felt Brook tap his shoulder so he turned to her and smiled. "It's just too good to be true Dad. Old families are hard to preserve and their like legends. They're the foundation of our society. Everyone wants a Hummel, Vaughn, or Blackwell as a soulmate."
"No, I don't." Brook spoke as if understanding their topic. "I want Blainey." She added when he got her brother's attention and buried her face into his neck.
"Your loyal supporter." said Nathaniel in a teasing tone.
"My little princess." Blaine announced before unceremoniously twirling the two of them. He wasn't paying much attention around him so he accidentally stepped onto someone's shoe. Blaine lost his footing. His hand instinctively tightened around his sister to protect her from falling when a pair of big hands grabbed his shoulder to support them.
"Easy there kiddo."
Blaine looked over his shoulder to see the owner of the voice. He was tall, the same height as his father. His piercing blue eyes shifted to Brook who was also looking at the man. He was wearing a black suit though he could tell how it's making him uncomfortable. "Sorry Sir."
He patted Blaine's shoulder and Brooks head, a kind smile formed on his lips. "Be careful next time kid. Also, stop with the Sir, it's too formal. I'm Burt." He offered his hand.
"Blaine Anderson s-Burt." He caught himself before blurting 'sir'. A firm handshake, like how his father taught him. His parents apologized and introduced themselves as well.
"Freshman?" Burt glanced at Blaine.
"Yeah." He nodded.
Nathaniel returned the question. "Are you here for your child as well Burt?"
Burt sighed. "Yeah and actually its chi-"
"Mr. Hummel!"
The Anderson family and Burt spun to see a stressed looking woman in her mid forties approaching.
"Yes?" Burt raised a brow. The mere gesture made him looked very intimidating.
The Andersons were shocked. Apparently, Burt didn't mention his last name. Blaine suddenly became more attentive to Burt.
"Excuse me Mr. Hummel, but would you mind me borrowing you for a second?" The woman politely asked.
"Dad!" Another voice shouted.
Everyone in the small group looked towards the exit of the auditorium where a tall, lithe, shaggy haired blonde boy emerged.
Burt groaned. "Is my son in trouble?"
"Mrs. Woods, hi!" The blonde boy greeted in enthusiasm - an overly enthusiastic greeting which often meant trouble. His hands grabbed his father's arm, towing him towards the exit. "Bye." He waved, not giving his father any reason to bid his goodbye to the others.
"Mr. Hummel, I'm expecting to talk to you further." The woman hollered at the retreating figures. When she noticed the stunned family, her expression quickly changed. A friendly smile plastered on her face. "Welcome to Dalton." She said then turned back to where she came from.
Blaine could hear the blonde boy's voice raised once again. "I swear Dad, it's not me this time! C'mon big man, I'm well behaved."
"That was…" Nathaniel tried to find an appropriate word for the five minute encounter.
"Weird." Pamela finished. "Nice first encounter with your possible father-in-law."
Blaine groaned. His mind went back to Burt and the blonde boy, who appeared to be a Hummel. Blaine might have just met his soulmate, he couldn't really tell.