Not three days later, Sebastian 'I-hate-the-stench-of-public-schools' Smythe found himself being driven towards the parking lot of McKinley High; his Dalton uniform ditched in favour of jeans and a light blue button down, pulling into the home to the No Directions and his all-time favourite couple; Hobbit and gay-face.
Sebastian sighed heavily as his father pulled up to the curb just outside the main doors, as if expecting him to skip his first day. Not that that hadn't crossed his mind, but he didn't want to get into any more trouble if he wanted to be back at Dalton by the end of the month.
Bitterly, he was sure his father thought this was hilarious; none of this plan fitted with his usual laid back approach to parenting. The only acceptable reasoning he could find was that this was all some huge joke to scare Sebastian into playing the innocent virgin and that as soon as he got out of the car his father would laugh and say "fooled you" and he would drive him back to Dalton and that would be the end of it.
He didn't.
After being thrown out of the car with a sarcastic "have a nice day at school" from his smirking father, he walked towards the doors, framed across the top with the words "learning today, living tomorrow". Tacky, he thought to himself.
He felt sick already. It was almost as if he could physically feel the waves of Lima losers encompassing him before he'd even set foot in the building.
He straightened up and carried on, determined to show his father that this was stupid, and that this would not faze him because he simply did not care. He'd get him back.
He earned a few stares from students who were crowding the lockers, talking loudly and moving incredibly fast for half past eight on a Monday morning. Christ. It felt like a zoo. He didn't imagine this school saw a lot of new faces, so he was bound to be some kind of novelty, especially seen as he was transferring mid-semester in his senior year.
He adopted his signature smirk, stood tall with an air of confidence and practically marched down the hallway to collect his class schedule from the reception. If he was going to do this, and he'd resigned himself to that on the basis that a, Sebastian Smythe loves a challenge and b, he would not let his levels of happiness be controlled by anyone but himself - letting his father win unacceptable - then he would do it right by instating his superior authority in high school hierarchy straight off the bat through his exceptional good looks and outstanding charm.
The building was pretty easy to navigate given the ever clearing population in the corridors and the fact that it was nowhere near as grand as the architecture he was used to at Dalton, and he received his schedule in time to have a wander around and get his bearings.
It was at this point that he realised his burning need to avoid any and all Glee club members at all costs. He was not ready for that kind of humiliation, not yet. He hadn't even had his second coffee of the day yet.
He rounded the last corner which would complete his self-guided tour of the campus just in time to catch Kurt and Blaine having a 'moment' outside of their lockers. The way Blaine was looking at Kurt, as if he was the most precious thing he'd ever seen made the feelings of nausea reignite inside him, so he quickly doubled back on himself just in time to crash hard into Santana Lopez.
A surprising amount of expressions crossed her face in a matter of seconds before she finally settled on confusion. She opened her mouth as if to ask something and then closed it just as quickly.
"Tramp stamp. Are you lost?" She asked, replacing the confused expression with her Queen Bitch one. Sebastian was never one to back down from verbal sparring, especially with someone who was as entertaining and quick witted as he was.
"Oh hey, Sha-queer-a, did your relatives enjoy that piñata? I had it sent first class, consider it a gift." He smirked.
She ignored the quip easily. "No, really, what the fuck are you doing in my school, you smarmy rat bastard?"
His smirk faltered for a second before he composed himself. He could hardly deny that he'd transferred. He wasn't in uniform, it was 8:47am on a Monday morning and he was holding a class schedule in his hand.
Her eyes followed his to the folded piece of paper in his hand; she grabbed it and then unfolded it, skimming the contents.
"No fucking way." She burst out laughing, which didn't at all shock him. He didn't think there would be a person he'd encounter here who wouldn't find something funny in the fact that Sebastian Smythe, out and proud snob and hater of public schools, was here, in a public school.
"That's what I said." He muttered, not sure if he meant for Santana to hear. He snatched the schedule back from her, making a move to go around her, but not without pushing hard into her shoulder 'accidentally'.
She let him go, still in shock of the situation. As he rounded the corner he sighed, pissed that he wasn't able to get the last word and really wishing he could've at least survived the three hours until lunch before the New Directions found out about this. He had no doubts that the first thing Santana had done after he left would've been to text them all to let them know.
He headed to his first lesson, math, for which he was now bordering on late. At least he'd arrive in style, he thought.
He arrived moments before the teacher began registration and managed to take an unoccupied seat near the back right corner of the room. The lesson itself was fairly simple stuff - algebra he was pretty sure he'd covered back in tenth grade -so he took the opportunity to zone out and think some more about his weekend instead.
It had been pretty intense, three nights straight at scandals, waking up somewhere he didn't know each night with someone he didn't know and wouldn't bother getting to know, with a dull headache. To Sebastian it was pretty standard.
He even considered it a success of some sort that he managed to pull two nights out without getting caught once by his father. Especially seen as his father had gone out of his way to watch Sebastian's every move. He wasn't very good at it. Or maybe he'd just given up and was hoping that this lame public school plan would work its magic in getting Sebastian to change his ways.
Still, if the rest of his lessons were as mind numbingly simple as this one, he may as well have already graduated. He wasn't going to push himself too hard.
By lunch he had relaxed a little in the knowledge that he hadn't yet shared a single lesson with anyone from the New Directions. A few girls had tried to talk to him during bio last period, and he indulged them until it got boring, (which was pretty quickly, they were three of the most two dimensional people he'd ever had the pleasure of speaking to, and this morning he was just not in the mood to humour them), but that was it.
For the first time in his life he was content to blend in.
By the time he arrived at the cafeteria itself he was feeling way too relaxed for his own good, though the incredibly poor standard of food lessened his mood a great deal. Still refusing to make the New Directions (or more, 'Klaine') aware of his new student status, he decided to skip eating all together and head outside to explore the rest of the grounds.
He made his way over to the bleachers, placing himself right at the back and digging his phone from the pocket of his jeans.
From Blaine: (10:18am) Hey, I know we haven't spoken much lately, but Santana said she saw you this morning. You haven't really transferred have you? You would've told me first, right?
The message was from a few hours ago, but he decided not to reply, for now. It was a pointless exercise and at this rate he didn't think he'd even make it to the end of the day.
He really hated this. He felt vulnerable. And if there was one thing in his life he couldn't stand apart from public schools, overly camp gay stereotypes and Ohio, it was having the lower hand. He was most definitely out of his comfort zone and it was irking him to no end that he had lost the verbal battle with Satan this morning and was currently hiding out in the bleachers watching a group of uncoordinated, unattractive homophobes run about a poorly tended soccer pitch in mid-March.
It was barely past noon and it already felt like his father was winning. He let his head fall into his hands for a moment before pulling himself together. You don't get a reputation for being a charming, snarky but condescending son of a bitch by sulking behind the bleachers like a girl who just broke up with her one and only in a chick flick, he told himself.
He turned up slightly early to AP English, his next lesson, cringing for the slightest moment upon entering a new classroom and praying he'd be four times lucky and avoid anyone he knew.
Apparently his luck had run out, because sat there in the back corner with an "are you fucking serious?" expression plastered all over his face, was Kurt Hummel.
And it got even better. The only free seat was right next to him. He didn't realise he'd be staring - or glaring, depending on the definition - until the teacher cleared her throat several times, pulling his attention away.
"Sebastian Smythe, isn't it?" She smiled. She was a small woman, young too, probably relatively new to the position if her untamed friendliness and optimistic approach was anything to go by. Everyone knew this was a soul crushing profession.
"Yeah." He grimaced, forcing a polite but fake smile in return.
Do take a seat." She gestured towards the spot next to Kurt after he continued to just stand there somewhat awkwardly.
Reluctantly he made his way to the back of the room and set his bag down heavily enough to startle Kurt out of his smug expression.
"Well, well, well. Everyone's favourite meerkat has come to join the 'common' people." Kurt smiled, sarcasm dripping from his tone. The startled expression had vanished from his face quicker than it had appeared.
"Aw, sweetheart, don't flatter yourself."
"I must admit, when Santana first told me that you of all people were here this morning, I really didn't know whether to throw up or laugh. Are you really that desperate to get Blaine?"
"You really think this is about your pathetic pretty pony of a boyfriend? Please. I'm insulted." He replied, unzipping his bag and pulling out his English textbook.
"So why are you here? We're all dying to know. I mean I know you lost regionals, which must have had some effect on even your oversized ego, but you've absolutely lost it if you think coming here will mean you can join New Directions."
Sebastian really felt insulted now. Blaine and regionals were way beyond irrelevant to him now, his concentration span for men was shorter than a child with an addiction to Candy Crush. And Kurt was just plain stupid if he thought a hobbit who wears too much hair gel and a high school singing competition of all things was enough to keep his attention for longer the time it took to become aware of them.
Okay maybe he still wanted Blaine a little bit, but only because not getting what he wanted tended to wind him up more than he was willing to admit.
"I don't care about your stupid prancy club or your boy toy or your stupid gay face." He answered.
"Glad to see that you haven't lost your talent for making accurate observations and overusing the same four insults."
"I'm not glad to see that you still don't know where the men's section is." Sebastian turned his attention to the front of the class, where the small woman was now presenting the three month long assignment on classic British literature that would take them to the end of the year. He rolled his eyes at the worn-out choice and resigned to the sad fact that he'd probably never be challenged here.
It was a great shame, considering he did have a particular love and talent for English. He wasn't entirely devoid of culture.
Kurt was still staring at Sebastian as if he wanted to carry on the conversation but Sebastian turned away from him and picked up his pen to begin scribbling notes into his admittedly beautiful composition book.
They stayed pretty much silent for the remainder of the lesson.
Unfortunately, Sebastian also shared his next lesson, history, with Kurt. Fortunately, they were sat on opposite sides of the room. Kurt was sat at the back once more next to that annoyingly self-absorbed and whiny brunette he seemed to love so much. Sebastian thought she was somewhat similar to him in that way, but she lacked his way with words.
He could feel their stares burning into the back of his head from the moment he sat down, and he was sure he heard Rachel mutter the ends of "but think of Nationals, Kurt. We need this" whilst tugging repeatedly on his arm. Sebastian would bet his entire college fund that she never talked about anything else.
The only silver lining of this was that the guy sat in front of him had a great ass. No, not great, fantastic. Perhaps Sebastian could have some fun in this wreck of an institution after all.
Sebastian wasted no time in trying to get the attention of the guy in front, who at one point he believed could be asleep. It didn't take too long before he responded, turning around in his chair to see who had been throwing the various scraps of paper with incredibly crude and borderline awful chat up lines onto his desk.
The boy's face definitely did not disappoint, which was a pleasant surprise considering he didn't think anyone in this part of Ohio could be worthy his approval. His hair was slightly longer than that of Sebastian's and a much lighter blond. His strong jawline framed his perfectly full lips, which Sebastian could not take his eyes off, even as they repeatedly asked "what the fuck?"
After several long seconds he moved on to roam over the rest of his figure. He was probably of average height - it was hard to tell whilst sat down - and quite delicate looking upon first glance, but after looking more closely Sebastian could admire the way the fabric of his shirt hinted slightly at his arm and chest muscles. Approval all round.
After making his judgement, Sebastian looked up to his eyes, which were a gorgeous shade of blue, smirked and stretched out his hand in a gesture. The blond character accepted it whilst Sebastian introduced himself.
"Robin", he replied returning the smile that complimented his face so much more that the confused frown he'd been wearing moments earlier, he was stunning. "You're the new kid, right?"
He'd been asked that question more times than he could count today, and it was still only Monday.
"Yeah, yeah", he answered, wanting to keep the other boys attention for just a little bit longer but already stalling considering his high school environment. Though, to be honest, with that ass, either view was perfectly acceptable. "So, fancy helping me catch up with all this coursework?" He added a little bit of flirt into his tone.
Sebastian didn't actually need any help, in fact, he could probably offer Robin more help than he could give him despite being at least four weeks behind on the project. He was pretty sure it would be piss easy to complete in a night or two nearer to the deadline.
Robin frowned at that, picking up on the other non-so-subtle undertones of his implication. "I'm not sure if I have the time, I'm really behind myself actually." He was stuttering a little now, but Sebastian just smiled wider.
"Oh come on, help a new guy out?" He mock pouted. The guy just shook his head and turned back to face the front of the class.
Sebastian wasn't done yet. By the sounds of it, he had a good few months at least of daily history lessons to crack the boy in front of him.
Finally, it was three pm, the end of the day.
The speed in which the people sitting around him leapt up and scrambled out of the building was almost comical. The noise and buzz of the place intensified as hundreds of lockers were being slammed shut one after the other and groups of friends were meeting up to exchange any remaining gossip from the weekend. How public school of them.
After watching gay face and female hobbit link arms and turn their snooty noses up at him as they walked past him out of the classroom, he gathered his books and headed out.
His dad was now over fifteen minutes late in picking him up. He was certain this was still part of the joke; keep him waiting, having to rely on someone else. His freedom had been taken away from him completely as he didn't even have his car.
Sebastian shifted his weight to his other foot, growing uncomfortable with the amount of public school children who were still lingering in the parking lot. He'd avoided all the football jerks that had a misplaced sense of self importance, and liked to pick on the weak, vulnerable teenagers, the new kids and the minorities, and in Ohio they tended to stick out like a sore thumb.
Perhaps it was thanks the fact that he was attractive and confident and could act like he'd been at this school for years. He had long nights at scandals turning up home at four am to thank for giving him plenty of practice at becoming invisible to certain people if he wanted.
Though no sooner than a few minutes later, none other than Blaine Anderson was bouncing towards him, complete with a pink bowtie and hair so gelled it would never escape even in gale force winds. Surely that can't be healthy.
"Sebastian! Seb, hey!" He exclaimed with a surprisingly large grin on his face.
Sebastian turned to face him at the sound, grimacing. "Hey, killer. How's it going?"
"Great. Great. How- how was your first day, then?" Blaine said, hesitating a little.
"Magical. I don't know why I ever had such a low opinion of public schools." He replied, smirking.
"Oh, fantastic." Blaine clearly hadn't picked up on the sarcasm. The dumb schoolboy thing was, whilst adorable, a little frustrating at times. "I didn't see you around like- at all today though. You'll sit with us at lunch tomorrow, right?"
He didn't know what Blaine's angle was. It was common knowledge that everyone in the New Directions couldn't stand him. Sure, he and Blaine were frienemies, bordering more towards, dare he say it, friends ever since he apologized for being such a twat with the slushie incident, but he never thought Blaine would actively seek him out to him help fit in in this tragic place.
It was always the opposite way around, with Blaine constantly ignoring his calls and flirtatious texts late at night.
"Why?"
Blaine's brows knitted together in confusion. "Why what? You can't just sit around on your own, and I'm pretty sure we're the only people you know here who will talk to you, even if it's just to insult you." He laughed. "Come on, you need a friend."
That was insulting. "I don't need anything from you right now. It's awful enough that I have to put up with the stench of Lima Loser from nine until three, five days a week, I don't need to add concentrated doses of delusional, talentless Broadway wannabes on top of that."
He wasn't even sure why he was in such a foul mood with the smaller boy. Usually he'd jump at the chance to get him alone without lady Hummel, but right now he just wanted to go home, shower and head back out to drown his sorrows with drinks bought by randomers who he might even repay later if they were good looking enough. Or maybe even if they weren't.
He didn't notice that Blaine was still frowning at that, also as perplexed by Sebastian's change of heart as he was.
"I just thought after Karofsky," Blaine swallowed hard when Sebastian's eyes darted suddenly to his; it was still an uncomfortable topic, "that you'd, you know, be more civil towards us. I'm only trying to help."
"You're so naïve, Blaine." He smiled almost fondly. "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks."
He walked away then, noticing that his father was now parked across the road, with his sunglasses on and window rolled down, even though they were summer was still months away.
He crashed as soon as he reached his bedroom, so much for getting wasted. But he'd survived his first day at McKinley.