In honor of my first week of break wherein my great uncle died, my boyfriend and I broke up, I was informed that my work no longer needs me, I am no longer eligible for a $1,000 scholarship because my school changed a program, and I couldn't even enjoy Darren's concert because I was still so torn up about my now ex-boyfriend and had a complete and total breakdown in the car afterwards, I decided that Blaine's life should suck a little bit.
Summary: McKinley High School holds the "Every 15 Minutes" simulation and Blaine, as student council president, is tasked with organizing the event. However, when his own death is fictionalized as part of the program, it brings long-standing issues within the Anderson family back to the surface.
Warnings: Homophobic language, simulated violence, drunk driving, fictionalized death, emotional abuse
Note: I feel like this comes off as a bit of a PSA, but at least it's for a good program! My high school did this when I was there, and I had to drive home at lunch to cry with my dad (who was thankfully working from home that day) because I was so emotional and drained.
"Now Mr. Anderson," Principal Figgins said to the boy seated across from him, "in case you weren't aware, William McKinley High School participates in the 'Every 15 Minutes' program once every few years to discourage drunk driving and educate students about the risks.
Blaine raised his eyebrows at Figgins' words. He certainly didn't know about this. "What, exactly, is 'Every 15 Minutes'?" he asked.
"Ah," Figgins replied, sitting back in his chair. "'Every 15 Minutes' is a program conducted at schools for the benefit of teenagers who are just discovering alcohol and their parents. It is based in the statistic that one person dies from an alcohol-related vehicular accident," Figgins recited. He sounded as if he was reading the description directly from a book, but then again, Figgins often sounded like that.
"High Schools hold a simulation wherein every 15 minutes another student is declared dead and cannot speak for the rest of the day. In addition, we will also organize a fake car accident in front of the school. Afterwards, all the students who participate will go on a retreat. The next day in school, we will have a speaker come to take about the dangers of drunk driving and then the students who went on the retreat will speak."
The idea sounded really harrowing, but incredibly cool at the same time. Blaine shivered as he imagined his friends walking around the school mutely, being declared dead.
"Now," Figgins continued, "as senior class president, you are in charge of organizing this event as well as selecting the dead from the entire student body. And, of course, you should also participate as one of the dead."
Blaine nodded enthusiastically. He was already getting a ton of ideas about how to organize this. "Sounds good. When is the actual assembly and stuff?"
"Two weeks time. So work fast, Mr. Anderson."
"Of course, Principal Figgins. We'll get started working on this at the student council meeting after school."
Figgins smiled and nodded confidently. "Oh, and, Mr. Anderson? This event is to be kept quiet so it will have the maximum impact on the students."
"I officially call this meeting of the McKinley High student government to order!" Blaine announced that afternoon. "Today, we have a very important and confidential item on our agenda. McKinley will be running an 'Every 15 Minutes' simulation in two weeks to help promote drunk driving awareness. We need to get started on organizing this so that it's the best McKinley's ever seen!"
Blaine passed out a packet of information that he'd printed from the Every 15 Minutes website as he explained what the simulation would entail. "There's a lot of stuff for us to do. We need to select 28 students to be the walking dead and they all need parental permission because the parents will participate too. Plus, this might be too emotionally straining for some parents, so we have to emphasize that it's perfectly okay to say no. Next, we need to book a night at the Lima Retreat Center. We'll need counselors there to make sure emotions stay in check and to lead all the activities. Figgins has already hired a few speakers for the assembly the next day, so that's no big deal. Then there's the actual simulation. We need to contact the firehouse and police stations for the car and ambulance. And we'll need the hospital, too."
"Why the hospital?" Sam asked.
"That's my next idea," Blaine said. "Let me call Lauren Zizes, president of the AV club, and Artie Abrams, director extraordinaire, to the floor to explain."
"Alright dweebs," Lauren began in her usual abrasive manner, "we're going to be producing a video about the experience just to really crush everyone's emotions. It's going to start at a party. Our three main characters will be there. One will be claiming that he's superman and not drunk at all, and he'll drive the other two home. Then they're going to crash! I'll be filming the actual simulation and then wheels and I will edit it that night. It's going to be fantastic."
Artie winced at Lauren's brusque manner of speaking, but had nothing much to add to the explanation.
"So as you can tell, we've got a lot of work cut out for us in the next two weeks. Let's get started!"
By the end of the week, the 28 walking dead had been selected and given their permission. In addition to Blaine, Ryder and Kitty were also chosen, as well as other students from every grade and clique in the school. The students for the video and simulation were Sam, Tina, and a freshman named Kyle. Lauren even managed to intimidate Jacob Ben Israel into being silent about the whole affair if he helped with the movie.
The students didn't have much to do until the day of the event, except a bit of filming for the party scene, but the parents did. The parents had to write an obituary that would be read aloud when the student was declared dead during the school day.
Blaine felt an odd surge of pride once everything came together. Sure, it was gruesome and depressing, but it had been a huge undertaking in a short amount of time. The only flaws in his plans were his parents.
His relationship with his parents had been almost nonexistent since he came out over four years ago. If his father spoke to him, it was rude and derogatory. His mother refused to look him in the eyes.
So his parents couldn't be bothered to write an obituary for their son, nor did they seem to find any emotional strain from considering that their youngest son would be playing dead for a day. Quite the opposite in fact.
"Too bad it's not a real obituary," Blaine's father had snarled. "That's save us a lot of trouble. It's what fags like you deserve."
Blaine blinked back tears and locked himself in his bedroom to write his own obituary the night before the simulation.
The first time Figgins' voice rang out over the PA to announce a student had been killed by a drunk driver, people grew uneasy. By the time the third death had been announced, however, everyone was aware of what was going on and incredibly subdued. It was unsettling to see classmates mutely walking the halls while wearing all black and painting their faces to appear dead and gaunt.
When the PA clicked to life at 11:15, Blaine took a deep breath.
"Last night, senior Blaine Anderson was driving home from a late glee club practice. A driver who had lost control of his car in his alcohol-induced state hit Blaine's car head on. Blaine was dead on impact."
It really became apparent how affected the school was by the program when none of the jocks in Blaine's class made any sort of comment about how he deserved it.
Instead, every eye in Blaine's class was trained on him as he rose from his seat and walked to the door. He stood just outside as Officer Brady, the school security guard, walked into Blaine's classroom to read the obituary.
"Blaine Devon Anderson was born in Westerville, Ohio on April 21, 1995, to Pam and Jason Anderson. He was lead soloist for the Dalton Academy glee club his sophomore year. When he transferred to McKinley as a junior, he joined their glee club during their triumphant 2011-2012 season as they won nationals. He was school president his senior year. Blaine is survived by his parents and his older brother, Cooper."
Short and impersonal. Not like some of the others had been - some of the parents had been too emotionally distressed to think about their children dying to be able to write an adequate obituary. Blaine was that way because his parents didn't care.
At lunch, he, Ryder, and Kitty sat together to eat in silence. Even though none of the other members of the glee club were "dead," none of them talked much either. Blaine caught Tina and Sam's eyes as they left early.
They were going to get made up for the crash simulation, which would begin right after lunch. Blaine was nervous about how it was going to work, as it had never been rehearsed with real EMTs or police officers before.
But Blaine needn't have worried. Sam, Tina, and Kyle were fantastic. Of course, all Tina and Kyle had to do was lay limply and pretend to be unconscious. Sam had the hard job. He had been the "driver" of the car. He stumbled drunkenly from the driver's seat a few minutes after the "impact" and looked around. He pretended to make a phone call and soon sirens approached.
After being looked over by the EMTs, Sam was given a breathalyzer and questioned by the police. Then he was handcuffed and taken away just as Tina and Kyle were loaded into the back of the ambulances.
School resumed after that, but everyone was off in lessons. Blaine thought about his friends and hoped they were holding it together.
When the final bell rang, everyone sighed in relief. It had been a tense day. And Blaine knew it was only going to get worse.
All of the dead students gathered outside the main office once everyone else had left the building. They silently boarded a bus with their overnight bags and headed off to the retreat center.
The Lima Retreat Center was located about 40 minutes from McKinley. It was in a small woods and had a team building course on the grounds. But the McKinley group only wanted the house area.
As soon as they stepped inside, every student had to turn in their cell phones. They were dead, after all. Finally, they were allowed to talk. They were silent out of habit at first, but then began to laugh. They had been so tense all day that they just needed to let go for a little while.
They were told to work on homework for the first hour or so, until the crash simulation victims joined them. As soon as Sam, Tina, and Kyle returned from the hospital, the hard stuff began.
Miss Pillsbury and a few of the retreat center leaders broke the kids up into groups of five. They spent over an hour simply talking about the experience and the emotional impact. Despite coming from all different groups, these kids no longer felt any need to put up facades. They were now all connected in a very strong way.
After that, they took a break for dinner. Then, all the students went into one room while the parents, who had just arrived, took over another of the large halls. Even though they were so close, they weren't allowed contact yet.
Each room did the same thing, however. Each room's occupants wrote a letter to the people in the other room.
About 15 minutes into the process, Miss Pillsbury called Blaine up.
"Blaine, your parents aren't here yet. Is there a number we can contact them at?"
Blaine's stomach dropped. He'd known his parents wouldn't show, but he'd hoped. "N-no. They're out of town," he lied.
"Oh. Okay."
Blaine struggled as he put his pen to paper. "Dear Mom and Dad," he began, just as Miss Pillsbury instructed them to.
But what was he supposed to say to his parents?
Blaine took out another piece of paper and started over. "Dear Burt..."
Finally, the only blank page in front of him was the one addressed to his parents. Thinking about what he had just written to the others, he finally set to work.
Once the letters were written, the students were exhausted. Even though it was only 9 at night, everyone went straight to bed.
They were allowed to skip morning classes the next day. They didn't even return to school until moments before the assembly. Principal Figgins made a short announcement to the oddly quiet crowd of students, and then they all processed on to the stage.
The other students applauded. No one knew what else to do, so they applauded. Then they took their seats. The lights in the room went down, and the movie began.
A party was already going full blast at Kitty's house. Music was playing loudly and teenagers were dancing, drinking, and generally acting as all adults feared they would.
Then there was a cut to Tina. She was in her bedroom, chatting on her phone in excitement.
"Sam's coming to pick me up," she said. "No, nothing like that! We're just friends... Yeah, actually! I got my letter from Ohio State yesterday! I figured getting into college with a rocking scholarship was reason enough to celebrate! …. Okay, I'll see you soon!"
A few minutes later, Sam arrived and they drove off to Kitty's party.
Kyle was dropped off at Kitty's moments later. He looked unsure as he walked through the doors. Drinks were shoved at him, but he refused. "No thanks, man," he said. "I'm not really into that."
Sam didn't refuse when Blaine shoved a red solo cup with unknown contents into his hand. He went back for more and more until he lost count.
"Do you think you should lighten up?" Tina said, obviously a little tipsy.
"No way," Sam shouted. "I'm super fit and I have a really high tolerance. I'm fine!"
He had another drink.
Another girl asked him if he thought he'd had enough.
"Not enough is more like it! I'm like Superman!"
By the end of the evening, he was coherent but still drunk. As he and Tina walked out the door, Kyle went running up to them.
"Hey, are you guys leaving?" he asked.
"Yeah man," Sam replied with a lazy smile.
"My ride's not here anymore. Can I catch a lift?" Kyle asked.
"Of course, dude! The more the merrier!"
They piled into the car and began driving. Somehow, Lauren and Artie had managed to catch a perspective shot, because then the camera was looking out the front window and everything seemed to blur. There was a screeching of tires, shouts from Tina and Kyle, and then blackness just as a crunching of metal was heard.
When the movie next picked up, it was the scene from the previous day. As students rushed to the "crash site," Jacob Ben Israel narrated the scene as the school's reporter.
"JBI here at McKinley high. It was reported that after a party late last night, three students departed and never returned home. Last night at 1:30 am, Sam Evans, Tina Cohen-Chang, and Kyle Strolia were seen leaving Kitty Wilde's party together. Reportedly, Sam and Tina had both been drinking, Sam enough to 'float a battleship,' apparently. Now we go to the scene."
The camera focused on the car's wreckage, on Sam's stumbles, on Tina and Kyle's motionless bodies. They showed Sam being questioned and handcuffed. They showed how the EMTs had to cut into the car to retrieve Kyle from the backseat. They showed Tina's bloody body loaded onto the ambulance.
At the police station, Sam was handcuffed to a table and questioned.
At the hospital, Tina flatlined.
Sam was told that Tina was dead. The charge was beyond a DUI - it was vehicular manslaughter.
Kyle was motionless in a hospital bed, hooked up to monitors. Machines breathed for him.
Sam was recuffed when the questioning was over and led to a holding cell.
The screen went black as pictures of each of the walking dead flashed across the screen with their time of death. Then Tina's face. Then Kyle: in a coma, severe brain damage. Then Sam: prison.
Finally, a message appeared on the black background: Every 15 minutes, someone dies as the result of the alcohol related collision. Don't let that be you.
And then Sam started speaking from his jail cell. "I've done a lot of stupid stuff in my life. Stupid, harmless pranks and stuff like that. But I always figured that I was a smart enough guy to never put someone else's life at risk. But now … one of my best friends is dead because of me and another might never wake up. I would give anything to go back to that night and not get behind the wheel, or not have all those drinks. But I can't undo my actions. Don't make the same choices as me."
By the time the video was over, most, if not all, students were in tears. The dead students who had been at the retreat were all huddled together at the front, the most affected by everything.
There was a bit of an emotional break while the three speakers talked. First was a woman whose sister had been killed by a drunk driver. Then a man who had almost killed others by driving drunk and then served his time. Last was the typical assembly speaker, a police officer, who simply listed off all the negative repercussions.
When they finished, Miss Pillsbury invited any of the students and parents who had been at the retreat to read their letters. All began the same way:
"Dear Mom and Dad,
Every 15 minutes, someone dies as the result of an alcohol related collision. Today, I died, and I never got the chance to tell you..."
Blaine sobbed as he listened to his friends speak.
"Thank you so much for supporting me and my dream. I know that performing, especially as an Asian, is a difficult field, but you have never once thought to tell me to do anything less than pursue my dreams," Tina proclaimed tearfully.
"I'm sorry I wasn't around more," Sam apologized. "I love you guys so much, but I had to come and be a kid again. Also, take all the money from my savings account and use it to make sure that Stacey and Stevie never are homeless again. I love you all."
"Thank you guys for believing me and standing behind me during the worst moment of my life," Kitty said. "I just want to apologize to everyone for being to rude. I wish I could have gotten to know everyone better."
"I'm going to miss you. I feel like I've always been a disappointment - never the best singer or dancer or football player, I can't even read right - but you've always loved me just the same," Ryder tearfully said.
The parents spoke of regrets - never seeing their grandchildren - and how a mother or father's greatest fear is that they outlive their own children.
Blaine's heart ached. He wished that his letter was anything like the others. He wished that his parents thought that about him. He wished.
Sam and Tina kept shooting him looks, surprised that he wasn't reading his letter, as Blaine was always very outgoing. But there was no chance anyone would ever get to see inside his envelopes.
When the assembly finished, the dead were reunited with their parents and excused from school for the rest of the day. Blaine stayed frozen in his front row seat, surrounded by the tissues that he and his companions had used - over five full boxes. His parents weren't there to comfort him or whisper words of love in his ears. His brother was thousands of miles away. And the only family he had ever known had been torn away by his own mistakes. Blaine was alone.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Every 15 minutes, someone dies as the result of an alcohol-related collision. Today, I died, and I never got the chance to tell you that I love you.
I shouldn't. I should hate you just as much as you hate me. But I can't. You're my parents. You raised me. And for 13 years, you nurtured and loved me. For 13 years, you did everything you could to protect me.
I wanted to be just like you, dad. When I was little, I'd wear your hats and ties and pretend to be going to work just like you while I did my homework, remember? I'd follow you around the house on weekends and beg to help you at work during the summer. In my young eyes, you were perfect.
I hate that that illusion had to be shattered.
I still love you, dad, but I hope that I never turn out to be just like you.
Because then I told you that I'm gay. Somehow even though absolutely nothing had changed, you couldn't stand me anymore.
You ignored me. You called me names. You did everything in your power to make me miserable.
But I still love you.
I know that you're probably celebrating now, having a party instead of a funeral, and I know that you hate me and everything that I stand for.
But I still love you.
I'm sorry that I disappointed you. I'm sorry I couldn't be the perfect son.
I'll never hate you, though.
I love you.
Blaine
"Blaine? Are you okay?" a voice called from the back of the auditorium.
Blaine's head shot up as he saw Finn walking down the aisle. He quickly tried to wipe off his face, even though he knew it was useless. "Yeah, fine," he said, voice husky from tears and disuse. "Still a little choked up from the assembly."
"Yeah. That was pretty heavy stuff." Finn took the seat next to Blaine.
"What are you doing here?"
"Mr. Schue wanted to do a number here with the rest of the kids who are still in school. I was just checking to make sure it had been cleaned up. What are you doing here? I thought you guys were all excused to go home with your parents?"
Blaine drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Yeah."
"Are you sure you're okay, Blaine?"
"Yeah, no, it's just - I mean," Blaine spluttered. His breath was coming in quick gasps and he could feel the tears building again. "I just don't know where to go."
"What do you mean?"
"My-my parents. They didn't come. My dad actually told me that he wished it had been a real obituary that I was asking for."
Finn looked thunderstruck, and Blaine immediately felt guilty for telling the older boy anything.
"I'm sorry," Blaine said. "You don't need to know my crap."
"No," Finn said seriously. "No, Blaine, you are important, okay? Your dad's an idiot if he doesn't see how awesome you are."
Blaine shook his head and chuckled as the tears continued to flow. "I just feel so stupid. Because everyone's parents were saying how horrible it was, and all my dad could say was, 'Too bad it's not real.' I mean, why did I have to get the shit parents? Why couldn't my dad just be Burt? I mean, he already practically is my dad. He's been more of a dad to me than anyone else." Blaine wasn't even aware of what he was saying anymore, but Finn was. The older boy got to thinking as he gently rubbed Blaine's back like his mother had done for him when he was a child and had bad dreams.
"Hey, Blaine, it's okay. Your parents don't deserve to have as awesome of a son as you. Now, get up."
"Wh-what?" Blaine hiccoughed.
"Come on, you're coming home. To your family."
"But - "
"Not them, Blaine. Burt."
Blaine's breath caught in his throat at the name.
"I can't, Finn."
"He won't mind, Blaine."
"But what about Mr. Schue and the New Directions?"
"They can manage without me for one day."
Blaine didn't know what else to say, so he stood up, grabbed his bag, wiped his eyes, and muttered, "Thank you."
Dear Burt,
Every 15 minutes, someone dies as the result of an alcohol-related collision. Today, I died, and I never got the chance to tell you that I love you.
I don't know how much Kurt has told you about my parents and our lack of any sort of relationship, but I guess now is as good a time as any. I mean, you're probably wondering why I'm writing to you when we're supposed to be writing to our parents. Truth is, you've been more of a father to me than my own father has.
I came out when I was thirteen, and my parents were less than thrilled. My dad was seconds away from disowning me. I've had the phrases, "You're not my son" and "No son of mine will be a dirty fag!" thrown at me so many times that they've lost all meaning. I won't tell you what else he's said about me and, unfortunately, about Kurt as well, but I can assure you that it was no better.
My mother was just as bad, but in a different way. She stopped talking to me at all, unless it was to remind me of a friend's available daughter, or something I had done wrong. She hasn't looked me in the eyes once since the day I came out.
I went through two years thinking that all parents were just like mine, just as awful and degrading and unaccepting. And then I met Kurt and he told me about you. I mentioned once, two years ago, that I was jealous of your relationship with Kurt. Now you know why.
And then when Kurt and I started dating, you welcomed me into your family. You never tried to intimidate me because I was your son's boyfriend. You treated me like I was human, and that was something that I was so unused to.
So thank you.
Ever since that first Friday night dinner that I spent with your family, I have thought of you as more of a father to me than my own. Even though I barely knew you, I knew that you were the man I'd want to call if anything went wrong. That very first night, you told me that if I ever needed anything, I should call you. You probably didn't realize how important hearing that was to me.
And so now I must apologize for hurting Kurt and being so stupid in the fall. Somehow, you two remarkable men have found it in your hearts to forgive me, but I still must apologize. Because I did more than hurt Kurt. I disappointed you. I thought for a while that I had lost another father, and then you invited me to New York.
You showed me what a true father is.
I hope that when I have children, I can be even a fraction as remarkable and amazing as you.
Thank you, Burt. For everything that you've done, even if you didn't know you were doing it.
Love,
Blaine