A/N Thank you all for the reviews/favorites and such !
People seem to like dangerous Kurt xD Well, here's another chapter. Hope I don't disappoint! Sorry its kinda short, next will be longer!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee

"And we're sure it wasn't actually in self-defense, right?" David asked, feeling around in his jacket pocket, eventually pulling out a small pack of matches. "I mean, that was total B.S.?"

"Of course it was B.S., David." Wes replied bitterly, brushing a piece of damp hair out of his face and eyeing the cigarettes in the hands of the boys with narrowed eyes. "Otherwise, he wouldn't be here, obviously."

"But if it wasn't true at all, wouldn't he, like, go to jail? I mean, voluntary manslaughter, that's like practically murder, right?" Trent mused absently, unscrewing the cap to his water bottle and taking a small sip, his eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"Maybe he killed someone drunk driving? That's considered manslaughter, I think." Jeff suggested, flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the ground and sliding down the wall of the Arts Building next to Wes.

"No, no. That's completely different. That's vehicular manslaughter, and besides, how could that possibly be out of self-defense?" Wes rolled his eyes, throwing a small stone out into a puddle created by the stormy weather.

Nick snickered, picking at his thumbnail. "U-unless it was like…some crazy car-battle," he giggled to himself. "And, and, the guy in the other car was trying to kill him with his car and the only way to defend himself was to kill him with his car. And Kurt was, like, totally hammered, so everyone thought it was an accident." He nodded, clearly amused with his own story.

Jeff patted him on the shoulder and gave him a small, fond smile. "Yes, you're right. I'm almost positive that's what happened, Nick."

"Or – or – unless, he, like, was attacked by someone he was supposed to be screwing for money, and then fucked them to death in self-defense."

Everyone turned slowly towards Nick, who was smiling to himself.

"Nick… You do realize that makes absolutely no fucking sense at all..." Trent said, his eyebrows raised, looking at the dark-haired boy cautiously. Nick opened his mouth as though to argue his logic, then sighed and shook his head.

"No – I – Yeah, I know… I guess I'm just really disappointed he's not a prostitute." He said admitted with a defeated sigh, shaking his head slowly with closed eyes.

Before anyone could question the boy, they were joined by a sopping wet Blaine and Thad, slightly out of breath from jogging through the weather.

"Regardless," Thad spoke to Blaine, obviously continuing a conversation from earlier, and snatched the cigarette out of the curly-haired boy's hand and lit it for himself, taking a few quick puffs. "He still killed someone, and while that certainly doesn't make for an ideal roommate, I give him props. And he seems like a cool enough guy to have around." He leaned against the wall and stuck his empty hand in the pocket of his jeans, still facing Blaine.

"You guys talking about Hummel?" David questioned the two boys who nodded in answer. "So… You don't think he's dangerous?"

Thad considered this for a moment, offering his lighter to Blaine, who had taken a second cigarette out to replace the one the other boy had stolen. He shrugged and then shook his head slightly. "No, I mean, he's here and not in jail for a reason, right? Yeah, he may be on the…" He trailed off, making a vague gesture with his hand as he tried to search for the correct word. "…higher end…of the danger scale, b-but," he shook his head in thought. "Kid's still just one of us." He took a long drag of his cigarette, looking out into the rain. "And I don't regret helping him out yesterday." He added, turning to face the others.

He blinked for a few seconds, a smirk suddenly appearing on his lips as shifted to face the boys fully. "Boy's fucking weird, though." He laughed.

Jeff smiled shyly. "Oh?" He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his folded arms on them, turning to Thad and raising a curious eyebrow. "How was the first night sleeping with him?"

"Well if you could even call it that. Neither of us did much sleeping..." He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"…"

"Not like that."

"…"

"…It's just he was up all night and kept going in the bathroom every five fucking minutes, and the only time he slept he was making these weird-ass noises. And he got all pissed when I tried to go near any of his stuff. Oh! And then he left the room at like 3 a.m.! And I couldn't shake the feeling that I was going to wake up with my limbs strapped down to my bed and him standing over me with torture weapons-"

"Kinky."

"Not like that, Jeff!"

Blaine cough-laughed, breaking the amused, awkward silence. "So… Guys… Thad said we could do the thing tonight." His lips twitched up into a crooked smile.

"What! Really, Thad?"

"Yep. I got it all set up. We need to get Kurt to come here at, like, 6 tonight, though. Blaine, do you think you can handle getting him to come?" Thad turned towards the shorter boy who was stomping out his cigarette butt and lighting a second one.

"Um," the boy in question stuck the newly lit smoke between his lips and pulled out a beat-up looking pocket watch, looking contemplative before responding. "…Actually, I have to do something after lunch, so…" He shrugged, looking slightly guilty. When one of the boys sighed knowingly, he quickly pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke out sharply. "B-b-but I can do it after. Yeah, I can do it. I mean the thing after lunch won't take long anyway." He nodded, trying to assure the other boys, who just stared at him with unreadable expressions.

The sound of the rain drowned out the silence between the boys. Eventually, one of them coughed, breaking it.

"Yeah, well, whatever," Thad sighed and flicked his cigarette butt onto the cement ground and turned to the boys. "But yeah, 6… David," he turned to the dark-skinned boy who raised an eyebrow in response. "It's, like, 10:30 now. Can I come with you when Trevor gets here? I wanna pick up the stuff I bought from him for tonight."

David seemed slightly dazed, but nodded. "Uh, yeah, sure. I guess we should go now, then. His visit is set up to be in my room, so, yeah." He jerked his head in the direction of the dorm buildings and stepped away from where he had been leaning against the wall. Thad followed him and they exited the shelter of the building's roof ledge and onto the muddy field, into the rain.

Kurt sat on the edge of his bed, fighting the urge to drift off to sleep. He jerked awake again, almost having fallen over the edge of his subconscious. His mind was muddy and bleak as he dragged himself into the attached bathroom of his dorm and stared into the mirror. He was even paler than usual, the dark rings under his eyes and the bruise around his mouth even more noticeable.

He sighed and spun around, leaning his back up against the counter and letting his eyes flutter shut.

Snippets of the day before flooded past his eyes as they closed.

Staring out the window of the government car. Seeing Blaine across the room for the first time. Staring back at the millions of eyes in the cafeteria. Meeting the group of boys. Following Trent. Gazing at his own blood dripping onto the ground. Looking at the shocked faces. Staring into the trashcan at his own vomit. Staying silent for the rest of the group class. Seeing his room for the first time and talking to Thad.

"So… you really kill someone, then?" The boy asked with a strange combination of amusement and curiosity in his voice, looking up from his book where he lay reading it on his bed.

Kurt huffed and turned away from the other boy, pulling the covers over his shoulders.

"I'm not, like, judging you or anything. But self-defense… Really?" The boy let out mocking laugh.

Kurt bolted upright and turned to the other boy, a hurt look on his face. "You have no idea what happened to me, and you have no idea what you're talking about. So shut the fuck up. And yes, self-defense, Thad. Really." He let himself fall gently back onto the bed, facing the ceiling.

Thad scoffed. "Whatever, man. Like I said before, not judging." And with that, he turned back to his book, seemingly losing interest in the other boy.

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and immediately saw the blood, the excessive amounts of blood. He jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom, emptying his stomach for the second time that day. That pattern continued throughout the night every time he got even remotely close to being able to rest for a decent amount of time.

At 3:12 a.m., Kurt couldn't handle his mind or the shaking he felt in his body, so he rose to his feet and left the room without a word to Thad, breaking out in a jog and running, with any luck not being caught by the guards so he could continue until he, hopefully, cleared his mind.

So much for that theory…Kurt thought to himself as he forced his eyes open. Even with his failed attempt at tiring himself out, he still couldn't sleep. Perhaps it was the drama in group that led to his resurfacing nightmares. He shrugged it off and headed out his door towards the cafeteria. Lunch would start in ten minutes anyway, and sitting sleepily in his room didn't do anyone any good.

Blaine let out a loud, panting breath and buried his face deeper into the mattress, squeezing his eyes shut as sweat rolled into them from his hairline. The man behind him grabbed desperately at his hips, trying to better angle himself. A final, incoherent string of swears left the man's lips and his thrusts became erratic and jerky, followed by a shaky breath as he shuddered and came, his body limply collapsing onto the boy in front of him.

Blaine felt the weight on top of him evaporate as the breathless man rolled off him and onto his back. The curly-haired boy raised his head to see the blonde letting out short, winded breaths and cover his eyes with his forearm on the bed beside him.

His eyes flickered to the condom still covering the man's softening penis, semen dripping onto his pubic hair and waist. Blaine's gaze fell again upon the man's face where he still lay gasping for air in his post-orgasmic state.

Clearing his throat, Blaine stood and pulled on the boxer briefs from where they lay puddled on the floor. He turned back to the man, who seemed unfazed by his movements.

"Look, can you just give me what I need and go? I kind of have some stuff I need to get done." He spoke with a monotone, looking anywhere but at the familiar man in his bed.

The blonde seemed to stir at this, taking his arm from his face and glancing at the boy. "Huh? Oh, yeah, right." He sat up and took the condom off, tying it at the end and tossing it in a trashcan near the bed. Sitting up and seeing that its contents leaked onto his body, the man then grabbed a few tissues from the table next to him hastily, cleaning himself quickly and disposing of them as well.

Blaine sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the ceiling as the man dressed quickly, not bothering with any kind of conversation.

The man fished around in his jacket pocket before coming back with a small bag of white powder. He shook the plastic, its contents collecting together in one end of the bag. "Here you are, sir." He said, offering it to Blaine with a smile.

The boy grabbed it hastily and tucked his arms back together where they were crossed over his chest. "'Kay. Thanks, Jeremiah." He breathed out tiredly, nodding and looking around the room awkwardly.

The young man took in his odd behavior and bent down slightly, trying to meet his eyes. "Not that I'm complaining, B, and I know it's not my place or anything, but I thought you were done with this stuff." Jeremiah looked at him, the expression on his face careful and hesitant.

Blaine rolled his eyes and sighed, looking at the twenty-six year old blonde with an attitude-ridden face, eyebrow cocked. "You want me to go somewhere else for this, Jer? There are plenty of other guys that are willing to give me what you give me." He stared determinedly at the man, who opened his mouth to respond, then sighed and ran a hair through his long, dark blonde hair. "That's what I thought," he muttered, gesturing hastily towards the door. "Now, if you could…" He trailed off, motioning towards the door again.

Jeremiah sighed again and nodded, making his way towards the door, but stopping and turning to face Blaine before he opened it. "Just, uh, take care of yourself, you know? And don't get caught and thrown into juvie because, trust me, this place is like fucking…Disneyland, in comparison."

Blaine nodded, keeping his eyes on his feet and bit the inside of his cheek. Jeremiah pulled him into a short, half-hug, the younger boy not responding and keeping his arms in place, folded in front of himself.

The blonde searched the younger boy's face for a second longer, then patted him on the shoulder and walked out the door.

Blaine flopped down onto his bed, sighing as he let his head fall into his hands. He raised his head and held the small bag of white powder in front of his face, eyeing the contents intently, turning it over in his hands and trying to figure out what happened to his life.

The door flew open and Blaine let out a surprised gasp, dropping the bag to the ground. His eyes flew to the door to reveal David, looking at him with narrowed eyes. He looked over Blaine's barely-dressed form and tousled hair, and the small plastic bag on the ground.

"Having an intimate moment with your narcotics?" He smirked, taking a small step back. "Should I-?" He pointed to the hallway behind him. "I can come back later if I was interrupting something."

Blaine stared at David with a deadpan expression as the dark-skinned boy giggled slightly to himself before stepping into the room and closely the door behind him. The curly-haired boy sighed and retrieved the bag from the ground before turning to place it in a drawer next to his bed. "You scared the shit out of me, David. The concept of knocking on a door before opening it was developed for a reason."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I got your damn bulk-sized Costco supply of cigarettes," he chucked a backpack towards Blaine, which he caught and peeked into, shaking the bag slightly, eyes raking through its contents.

"How many packs did he get me?"

"16."

"Good," he nodded, pushing the bag underneath his bed unceremoniously and picking up his discarded jeans from the floor. "Thanks."

"Yeup," David drew out the word absently and smiled, watching Blaine walk around his room, getting redressed. "Got your cigs to smoke, got your H to do up… Looks like you're aaall set." He nodded, watching Blaine's lack of reaction, he sighed. "I thought you were off the hard stuff, Blaine." The boy froze, his shirt halfway on, and shook his head wearily, continuing to stay silent and finished pulling his black T-shirt down over his body. David cocked an eyebrow. "Well… Remember, Arts at 6 with Kurt."

At this, Blaine turned around to face him and nodded with an eager, dopey smile. "Yeah… 6."

Kurt pressed his fork onto his dressing-flooded dinner salad absentmindedly, the oily, clear-brown liquid seeping through the prongs. He sat with his injured face resting in his hand, continuing this action over and over until the lettuce was wilted and bruised. He scanned the cafeteria with tired eyes. Even though it was the weekend, the very, very high majority of students remained on campus.

He remembered someone telling him that if you behaved well enough and had a family member call in, you could get an off-campus pass, maximum of two each semester.

Like his family cared about him anymore.

"Kurt."

He idly drew his eyes up to meet the voice that called his name, though in the back of his brain – his tired, tired brain – he knew he recognized it. His bloodshot eyes locked with a pair of very hazel ones. He blinked slowly, taking in the sight before him. He pushed aside the thoughts that told him a boy with eyes as warm as his could never be dangerous, and focused on something else. The boy's pupils were curiously constricted. Drugs. That meant drugs, right? Is it depressants that make your eyes do that…? Or stimulants? Narcotics? Damn health class…

"Blaine, are you on depressants…or…or stimulants or what?" He asked lazily, still transfixed on the boy's pupils. Blaine's eyes widened instantly and he shot a concerned look around the room before dropping his tray on the table and taking a seat across from Kurt. The curly-haired boy scratched his neck anxiously.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your pupils are very constricted and it's a little concerning…" Kurt trailed off, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening again. Blaine eyed him curiously, raising his eyebrow and taking a bite of chicken.

"Kurt… Are you on something?" He asked after swallowing his food. "You're acting like you're drunk, or on weed or something."

The pale boy's eyes widened and his face reddened at the question. He brought his hands up to shield his face, letting out a muffled groan. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm just so tired and out of it." He sheepishly drew his hands away from his face and looked at Blaine shyly, with a hint of a smile. "I totally just outright accused you of being on hard drugs, didn't I?"

Blaine let out a soft laugh, causing chills to go up Kurt's spine. "Yes. But's it's okay, because I am."

"… Wait, wha-"

"So Kurt," the boy cut him off, crossing his arms over his chest, and leaning back slightly. His gaze flickered over the split in the boy's lip and, for a moment, he appreciated the overall pink shade of the rest of his mouth. What would they feel like? Just an innocent kiss, that's all it would take to know what they feel like. His mind shifted to not-so-innocent kisses… And different kinds of not-so-innocent things that mouth could be used for... He cleared his throat briefly. "Thad told me you had a little trouble getting settled last night, so him and the rest of us guys wanted to throw a little party in your honor."

Kurt's mind was still fixed on the boy's earlier confession.

So he is on drugs! Ha! I knew it! …Wait, what is he saying? Did he say 'party'?

"Did you say 'party'?" The young boy raised an eyebrow suspiciously, propping up his arm to rest his chin on.

"Yeah, I mean, we do it for all the new guys in the group."

"Group? Like… the group therapy, group…?"

"…Um, no… Just, like, you know, the group we hang out with?"

"…I'm part of that group?" Kurt asked, wide-eyed, thinking for sure that the events of the day before had suggested differently, what with all of their freaked out expressions upon finding out he was a killer, and all.

"We want you to be." And there was that deadly combination of the smirk and cocked eyebrow again. Kurt was fortunate to be sitting down, because that damn, teenage, hormonal phenomenon was taking place in his pants again. He could feel heat building up in his face and body and cheeks, and perhaps he was imagining it, but he swear he saw a slight shine in Blaine's eyes as he took in the pale boy's flushed features.

Just as Kurt was about to say something (most likely embarrassing or incoherent) in response, Blaine stood, his eyes trained on a table across the room. "Well, I have to talk to some people…but, yeah. I'll come by your room in, like, a half hour to pick you up, 'kay?" Without waiting for an answer, the boy stood and began walking in the direction of his usual table.

Kurt turned around to follow his path. "Uh, Blaine? My room number-"

"Yeah, I know." He called back coolly, not even turning around to face the other boy.

For a split second, Kurt wondered how on Earth the gorgeous, cocky boy knew what room he stayed in, but then he realized that Thad was his roommate, and that Blaine knew Thad. Kurt rolled his eyes at himself. Smooth.

Blaine slumped into the seat between Wes and David, causing the former to squint his eyes threateningly as his conversation was interrupted.

He cleared his throat loudly and exaggeratedly. "ANYWAY, as I was saying David," the Asian boy spoke unnecessarily loud over Blaine's head. "The ski masks would throw off the entire message we're trying to make with the unitards…"

As soon as Blaine sat, David eyed him intensely, taking in his slightly disheveled appearance, noticing the difference from when he had seen him only a few hours ago and ignoring Wes's argument.

"Hey B… What's up?"

Blaine blinked a few times, clearing his head. "Um, nothing, David…" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to remember his purpose for coming to this table. "What was I…? Oh – I got Kurt to come to the party." He nodded. "But he's like, super out of it... Maybe we should go easy on him tonight."

"…That's not how it works. You know that's not how it works. In fact, you of all people should know that's not how it works. You were the first one we did this to, after all." Thad gave Blaine an annoyed expression. "Going soft, B?"

"What? No, I just think the kid-"

"You like him or something?" Jeff interrupted with a dorky, suggestive grin. Nick shot the blonde a questioning look, but as his gaze shifted to the blushing curly-haired boy, an identical smile surfaced to his features.

"Oooh, Blainey Boy. Maybe you could pay him for sex!"

"…"

"We've discussed this, Nick."

"…Fuck you guys."

David smiled at the antics of his friends and turned back to Blaine. "But seriously, B, if you like this guy, we can go easy-"

"No, no, no. I was honestly just concerned with his current state. But it's fine. It'll be fun… It's always fun." He smiled at the last part.

Across from him, Jeff huffed and turned his attention down to his empty tray. "I don't think it's always fun." He mumbled.

"Jeff, bro, when we did it to you, you were the one that decided to strip off all your clothes and take those weird-ass pictures. And you were the one who posted them on Facebook – against our protests, might I add – and send them to your entire family." Trent paused and giggled at the memory. "That was all you, man…"

Jeff continued making huffing noises, stabbing at the residue of food on his plate with his fork angrily, muttering something that sounded like 'I deleted them the next day.'

Blaine's thoughts drifted back to the quiet, pale boy. No, he absolutely did not like him. Sure, maybe he wanted him for sex or as a part of his group of friends, things that he was allowed to want, but as a boyfriend? No, that was positively ridiculous. Maybe had it been a year and a half ago, and had they been attending a normal school, not one designed to keep criminally-challenged teens at bay, he could have considered it, because sure, Kurt was attractive, and funny, and sparked that something in him he'd never felt before-

But no.

Those were not the circumstances. Because Blaine was different than he was when he'd first been sent here. And they did attend a reform school. And at a reform school, things like crushes and relationships were not okay. Things as fragile and delicate as emotions could not be expressed openly, because they were too easily breakable.

Unspoken rules such as these were what, when Blaine applied them to himself, changed him into what he was now. What changed everyone into what they were now.

No, at Dalton Reform School for Boys, you certainly did not put yourself in a position to be breakable.

Because if you were even the least bit breakable, you would be broken.

Kurt sat idly gazing at a picture of his family that was taken when he was six years old.

It was supposed to be a nice picture, a normal picture. The three of them were seated on the grass in the backyard, in nice clothes, on a prepared blanket. It was one of those pictures that his mother was planning to frame, to hang in the hallway next to his school portraits.

Kurt remembered the day like it was yesterday. His father complained about the semi-nice attire he was forced to wear, and Kurt, himself, had spent an hour trying to get his hair to look like it did. As they all settled down in front of the timed camera, a large butterfly flew by, right next to his mother's head.

"Ooh! Kurt, baby, look! A butterfly!"

Of course, the picture turned out completely wrong. His mother had a faraway, distant smile plastered on her face and her hand pointed lazily at the blur of orange next to her. Kurt had screamed when he saw the bug, and his face was captured in a horror-ridden, wide-eyed stare directed at the same orange blur. His father, seemingly unaware of the events unfolding around him, ended up with a painfully forced-looking smile, looking directly at the camera.

It was Kurt's favorite.

Naturally, the photo had been retaken, and a nice, proper version of it adorned the hallway wall, but Kurt liked this one much, much better.

He drew his finger over the creased corner, frowning slightly at the edge splitting. I'll photo-scan this next time I get the chance, he promised himself, placing the photo back in the drawer next to his bed, where he kept his one, recent issue of Vogue. How he had survived in jail for three months without a relatively current copy, he had no idea. He looked at the magazine fondly for a moment before closing the drawer. That was the one good thing that came out of yesterday, he thought dryly, remembering the stop at the coffee shop he and that Newt guy had made on their way to Dalton.

Knock! Knock!

Kurt's head snapped up as his door creaked open tentatively, and a slightly more composed-looking Blaine poked his head through.

"Do you – uh – Are you ready to go?" He asked after getting no greeting or acknowledgement from Kurt. The boy in question nodded slightly and rose to his feet, taking a few slow, long strides and reaching the door.

"Cool. So, I gotta stop by my room real quick, is that okay?" Blaine asked hesitantly, reading into Kurt's saddened mood. The pale boy nodded slowly and Blaine raised his pierced eyebrow in question, but resumed to shut his door and make his way to his own dorm. "'Kay..." They walked in silence and Blaine watched the boy the entire way, noticing Kurt's expressionless face and downcast eyes. "You…okay, or whatever?" Blaine threw out casually, immediately wincing internally at his shitty phrasing. It'd been so long since he'd put his bad boy attitude away, he'd almost forgotten what it was like to sound sincere.

"Yeah, you know, just, like, tired and everything."

Blaine let a small smile grace his lips. "Well, trust me, Kurt, you're about to have a fucking hell of a time."

Kurt eyed Blaine's messy sheets, noting a particular stain on one side of the bed. He raised his eyebrow curiously.

"Yeah, you can sit down or whatever. I'm just trying to find my iPod in this mess of shit." Blaine sounded from somewhere in his closet, tossing a handful of notebooks onto the floor in his searching process.

"Uh, Blaine. I think there's cum on your bed."

Thwack!

"Ouch!" The boy hit his head on the door of the closet spinning around so fast. He winced and clutched the spot, turning to Kurt.

"W-what?"

"I think you may have a bit of semen on your bed." Kurt giggled. "Actually a little bit more than a bit."

Blaine looked confused before he turned his attention to his sheets and swore under his breath, flushing a bright shade of red.

"Uh, s-sorry." He stripped the bed sheets off immediately and threw them into the corner of the room where a pile of laundry was already living.

Stop it! he scolded himself. He was not allowed to feel embarrassed around this boy. He was supposed to make a snarky comment about how he got laid all the time and then suggest that they hook up. That's all that was allowed, and that's all there would be between them. No matter how much he wished things could maybe be different…

Kurt looked amused, him making someone blush for a change. "Don't worry about it. It happens to the best of us." Why did the thought of Kurt and anything sex-related make Blaine burn an even brighter shade of red? And how could someone blush like a schoolgirl and get so turned on at the same time?

"I-it's just I had this…friend over earlier and we were-"

"Having sex?" Kurt offered, bothered only slightly. The sooner he confirmed this boy's sexuality, the sooner he could stop his internal-conflicting pining. If he's straight – which he totally is, right? – then I don't have to even worry about falling for a stupid bad boy…

Blaine looked stunned for a moment, before turning back around and resuming his search in his closet. "Y-yeah. Having sex... And he's just not that good at cleaning-"

"What?"

Blaine turned around, an innocent look of confusion on his face. "What?"

"Did you say 'he'?" Kurt asked, trying, and failing to not sound surprised.

"…Yeah."

"You were having sex with a guy?"

"…Yeah…"

"You're…gay?"

"…Yeeahh…" Blaine drew out the word, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He cocked an eyebrow at the utterly confused expression Kurt was giving him. He tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Oh." Kurt finally breathed, breaking the silence. I shouldn't be happy. I should be upset. This just complicates things… Yes, complicates things… (YAY!)

"…You didn't know." It wasn't a question.

"No."

"Oh."

…

"There." Kurt spoke suddenly.

"What?" Blaine blinked, trying to remember why they were in this room to begin with. He looked in the direction Kurt was pointing into his closet, but furrowed his eyebrows, still thoroughly confused. "Huh?"

"Right…there, the iPod." Kurt stepped closer towards the closet pointing more specifically at a spot in the back where the tiny pink corner of an object could be seen underneath a crumpled up piece of paper.

"The iPod," Blaine nodded, swallowing audibly. "Right."

Kurt drained the remainder of the liquid, cringing only slightly at the bitter taste of the beer. He looked down into the excess foam left at the bottom of the plastic cup and tilted it slightly, causing the leftover drink to drift together to one side. He stared heatedly into it, as if willing it to answer all of his questions.

Why am I here?

Who am I?

When did I become the person that I am?

What's wrong with me?

Where can I go to escape this universe…?

Sighing and accepting that he wasn't going to get answers anytime soon, he tipped the cup back, lapping up the foamy remains. He scanned the room before him. Thad was smirking and holding a drink, surveying everything around him, seemingly considering his party a success. David, Trent, and Nick were messily dancing by themselves in the center of the deserted building. Jeff was watching the three dance with a fond, humored smile while nursing his own drink. Wes sat on one of the couches pushed against the wall with a slightly confused, puzzled look on his face as he studied his hands intently. And Blaine – sweet, standoffish, make-you-question-your-sanity, Blaine – was scanning through his iPod from its place in a boom box, his face scrunched up in confusion, as he held a lit cigarette in one of his hands that he hopefully remembered was there.

Kurt looked around him. According to the others, this building used to be home of the Arts and Music Department, but it lost funding the previous semester and was currently withdrawn, being considered for permanent cancellation. So much for joining that singing group…

The building consisted of one large classroom, divided into two parts, one side of the room stocked with folded-up easels and shelves of art supplies, and the other housing instrumental lockers, a baby grand piano, and a supply closet, most likely filled with musical instruments.

The chairs and desks had been since removed, leaving the room mostly empty. A few mismatched chairs, tables, and couches were scattered around the room, apparently taken out of the dumpsters from when the lounges or common rooms would get new furniture.

In the past semester, this group of boys made this their 'place to party,' or so they had said. They claimed they didn't come inside the building too often, in risk of getting caught, but always hung around the outside. Its secluded location away from main campus made it a perfect getaway. Also, according to the boys, the Arts Building held a special place in each of their hearts. He'd have to remember to ask about that later…

"Finish your drink, Kurt?"

Kurt glanced up, taking in the gangly blonde teen. Jeff drew a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it with a purple lighter, taking a long drag and grinning as he blew out the smoke.

"Yes, thank you. But I'm good for now, as far as another one goes." Jeff nodded in reply, still staring at Kurt expectantly with a small smile.

"How was it?" He asked, grin growing slightly.

"…Just as alcoholic and numbing as the last three." Kurt retorted teasingly, smile fading slightly as he noticed the odd look he was getting from the blonde teen.

"Yeah, well, that one had a little something special in it..."

A/N Sorry. I hate me for leaving it like that, too. But it was the best place to break up the chapters T_T
Next one will be up soon!