AN: Hey, everyone! So, as you all know and as it is stated in the description this story is inspired by the Regency Period but not in a specific decade. The reason for this is because I'm relating a lot of things in the story to song, poems or works of literature from different centuries. Just as a heads up if anyone is confused.

I cracked an eye open only to come face to face with dusty boxes and cobwebs just out of reach. Groaning I sat up and wiped my eyes, I'd hoped that being locked up here had been a bad dream. But nope, it had definitely been real. The attic was horrid, I'd heard stories about it from when Maria had been locked up here but somehow I'd never expected it to be this bad. There was one window but it was covered by a pair of mud brown curtains that were connected to the ground through a series of overlapping cobwebs. The area was rather large but it felt so tiny because of the thousands of boxes and discarded pieces of furniture and attire that our master had deemed unworthy, mainly because they were sown last minute by Mrs Amaro because our master had neglected to reserve any in town. I gulped as I rose fully to my feet. True enough to Justin's words I had no idea what time it was, and it unnerved me to feel like I was standing just outside of time. Well, if I'm going to be trapped here and forced to clean I may as well be a little nosy. They would never notice anyway.

I knelt down beside a box that was tightly sealed. Curiosity got the better of me and so I gripped the tape and yanked it away. I was surprised to see that the box was not filled with little knickknacks but rather pieces of paper. I reached in and grabbed a stack. I saw Blaine's name scribbled neatly in the top corners of each piece of paper. Wait…

'The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner 1798'

'Flowers for a Ghost' by Thriving Ivory

'Courage is' by The Strange Familiar

'The Rose that grew from Concrete' by Tupac Shakur

'You've got to hide your love away' by The Beatles.

These songs and poems belonged to Blaine. I knew after singing and hearing Blaine sing two of the songs already that Blaine would have a range of musical knowledge, and I was blown away by his poetic knowledge. I guess I assumed that the wealthy were conditioned to learn these things, and Blaine really did seem to have a passion for them. If that's so, perhaps he hadn't been the one to lock these away. Slowly I reached into my pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he had given me, the one with the poem of the rose on it. Despite my surrounding I couldn't help but smile. I've been feeling a lot more confident and comfortable about myself recently, I know that given my sudden panic after being confronted that it may not have seemed that way but still. This affection from Blaine and the kindness from the servants.

"We're here, Kurt."

"Your family, we love you."

I have also been feeling a determination I hadn't felt since I lost my dad. Determination for what I'm not sure. My future will be the same as my present, but somehow I felt like that wasn't true anymore. I've read about and heard tell of beautiful places in the countryside, crystal clear waters that would not make you ill if you were to drink from them. Moments of no responsibilities. People running away from their restrained lives to make new ones for themselves. Those people called 'dreamers'. But I could never leave the other servants. We are a family, and I refuse to leave them behind. Maybe we could all escape together. All of us and Blaine. That'd be nice. I reached over for the small satchel I'd been given to store my water in. Opening it I decided to put the songs and poetry inside. I knew Blaine would want these back, regardless of what his father wanted.

I got up and began to tidy other parts of the area up, using an old bat to swat at the cobwebs and old fabric to wipe up the dust. My hands were beginning to hurt and I winced as I had no choice but to wrap my right hand up in a dusty old ribbon in order to stay the bleeding caused by moving much heavier boxes than I was used to. I had moved some many things that I didn't even bother to open anything anymore because really it was wasting so much time and the sooner I got it done the less work I had to do after my self-assigned breaks.

After what felt like days, but in reality was most likely just hours, the walls seemed to be closing in a lot more. I was beginning to feel really paranoid, like I could hear noises that didn't exist or see people that weren't there. I felt like my heart was going to stop when I came face to face with a figure behind me, a terrifying figure that just so happened to be a cloth hanging over and old mannequin. I just had to get out of here, I could barely stand it. I began fidgeting, not being able to stay still even for the smallest of seconds. I rung my hands together as I paced around the dark room. My mind began to drift against my will to the night I'd been attacked in an alley before I began working here.

The shadows of the street clung to any and all surfaces that it could like a demon clutching onto its prey. The noises of the street fading to be replaced by sounds from invisible sources. Kurt had gotten lost in the alleys. The Militia was in town and he and his father had to run away from the commotion so they weren't trampled by all the prejudice pigs eager for their next show. Somewhere in the avalanche of people Burt had drifted off, and Kurt had no idea where to find him. Suddenly sharp cries cut through the darkness and from the flickering light of a street lamp Kurt could see the vague silhouettes of three people. Two stood shouting and kicking at a third figure lying on the floor. Kurt may have had a tough life with a lot to fear, but he hated to see such violence done to other people.

"Hey!" He shouted out as he ran in the direction he'd seen the three figures. The lights flickered and soon they were off momentarily. When the light returned again the three figures were gone. Kurt stopped and was left standing on the spot he'd seen the three people. He barely even registered the blow to his head, not even when he was falling. He was more confused than anything.

And then the pain came.

The entire thing was so blurry but every time he reached out his hand brushed a brick wall or a bin. He felt closed in, like he couldn't escape. What was worth is that he was so dazed and the light was so blurry that he couldn't even make out the identities of the people that attacked him. All he knew was that there wasn't three people attacking him, but two.

When Burt heard his son's screams and saw the three thugs he charged forward. He gathered all the air in his lungs and bellowed-

"Kurt!" I jumped out of his skin, mind ripped away from the visions of my past at the sound of a voice I recognised. I looked around, squinting in the dim lighting but I couldn't remember where the door was. Slowly I rose to his feet and followed the sounds of the knocks, sufficed to say I was startled when a door slammed open out of nowhere. "Oh, Kurt!" Maria exclaimed as she pulled me into her arms and held me tightly. "Are you okay? I've been so worried!" I felt myself smiling a little but still squinting because of the change in brightness.

"I'm fine, Maria," I said, rubbing her back. "I'm guessing it's finally time for my break?" She nodded and I felt relief wash over me.

"How are things?" I asked her as she escorted me to the bathroom nearby. Maria heaved a sigh and looked down.

"Justin began shouting at Blaine, Justin does not trust him anymore." I admit it, I was shocked. "He said that if Blaine had not continued this friendship then you would not be locked up right now."

"Do you agree with Justin's words?"

Silence. That's all I got in return. I stopped and so did she.

"Kurt, you knew from the moment you finally met him that any friendship, however comforting, would not do you good. It made Sir Anderson treat you so shamefully."

"Blaine has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me," I said, forcing my voice to keep quiet. "I love him so much, Maria!" I froze and put my hands to my mouth. Maria quickly looked around to ensure we hadn't been heard. I steeled myself up, waiting for her rejection. Waited to lose a good friend like her, waited for her to tell me I was disgusting or delusional.

Then she giggled. I blinked and stared at her as she blushed slightly from her giggles, a joyful little smile on her face.

"Mrs Amaro and I already guessed that was the case!" She said like a little school girl. I felt myself blushing at her comment. Was I really so obvious?

"Have you kissed?" I was so surprised by her reaction that I didn't know what to do, so I simply settled for nodding. She smirked and winked at me. Honestly, who was this person? Still. It was so nice to see her so carefree. "Wow, Kurt, you work fast!" I gave her a half smile and, after using the bathroom, I was soon back in the attic. I tried to process all this new information. Shaking my head I decided to do a little more snooping.

I came across a small box that was hidden behind other boxes. The title written messily across the box read 'Confiscated letters'. A frown came to my face as I sat on the floor and opened the box. On the inside were hundreds of letters and, upon closer inspection, each letter seemed to be for the servants. Myself included. What was this? I remember that Sir Anderson was always so picky about the mail. Inside of getting the servants to bring letters to him like others do, he insisted on collecting it himself. Now I guess I know why. I picked up a letter than was addressed to me. The date was… the day my father died but it was written in his handwriting. He must have written this before I went to see him at the hospital. I hesitated for such a long time before I began to read it.

Dear Kurt,

Son, I've noticed lately that you seem to be growing sadder each day. I'm so sorry things are the way they are right now. I miss your mom with all my heart and I wish there was something I could do to make things easy for you. I know you're struggling to pay off the hospital bills, but I don't want you to forget how special you are. I know that after all you've been through that this all might be a bit hard to swallow but I have faith in you. One day we'll both be okay. We'll get our own place and be our own people. Life can be truly unfair, but it can and will get better. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But it will. Have faith, Kurt.

I love you, son

Dad

I felt tears pouring down my cheeks as I read the letter. I'd lost my faith in everything the day my dad died. I'd hated everything about my life and I didn't attach value to myself at all. This letter… having it for comfort would have been able to help. It may not change my life completely but it would have been something to hold and read over and over again. Like I was getting the same support from him. But this letter had been retrieved long before I even had the chance to read it. I held the letter close to me and cried, cried like I would have back then. Cried for my father, for the dreams he had for us that hadn't come true. For my mother whom we'd lost so tragically. And for the growing sense of betrayal I felt. Glancing back at the box I saw letters addressed to all the other servants, and even though I shouldn't look at them, I felt like I needed to know who was trying to contact them.

Mrs Amaro received many letters from other servants that she had helped over the years. Puck hasn't been with us long enough to have his letters stolen. Maria got letters from her best friend who worked at another house elsewhere. And Justin. Justin had the most letters but one of them was shorter than the rest. I did not intend to read it, but there was so little on the page that I had read it all before I had processed it.

Dear Justin,

Why have you not responded to any of my letters? I know you did not approve of my leaving, but you still wrote to me and now I have heard nothing in so long. Brother, I hope you have not forgotten me.

Love always,

Eve x

Eve. Justin mentioned his sister Eve to me. She had fled with a man she had fallen in love with at the age of sixteen. He missed her terribly. He must have thought that she had given up writing to him. He did tell me that the last he'd heard of her was the new home she resided in. Looking now at the pile of letters addressed to him I could tell that he had missed out on so much. I felt the anger building up inside of me. The hatred for Sir Anderson was growing and growing and I just wanted to lash out completely, but I knew I couldn't. The next servant that'd be coming for me would be Puck. I needed to show him what I'd found. I had to wonder if Blaine knew anything about this, but dismissed it when I realised that his own things had been stolen from him too by his father. I want revenge on the Anderson family. Right now all I can see is red and while it may not be logical I cannot help it.

No… No I can't do it. I have my morals set in stone, I cannot betray myself on this. I took a deep breath and stuffed as many letters as I could into my bag. Sir Anderson was trying to break our spirits by cutting off the ties we have with others out there in the world. He wants to confine us to his own little castle. That's not going to work this time. If he's going to try to break our spirits, I'm going to make mine impossible to break. Finally I found myself believing in my dad's old phrase.

"No-one pushes the Hummel's around."

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