Chapter Text
blaine:
After 4 years, you’d think you would grow used to Sue Sylvester screaming at you. I fear that this is not the case. Running around the gym, I feel my legs burning. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty much the star Cheerio. Being one of the only boys in the Cheerio’s, I’m pretty popular at school. I enjoy being a cheerio. I hate to say it, but being the centre of attention is awesome. I love that people stop what they’re doing when I walk down the hallway to look and smile at me, or that the lunch lady slips me some extra food because “the star cheerleader has to eat!”.
I guess it does have its cons though, like the girls. I’ve been asked out by girls a lot, and I don’t mean that lightly. Once a week at the minimum, there’s a girl standing in front of my locker with chocolate hearts, asking me to accompany her to Breadstix. I always decline, saying I’ve got too much homework and that I want to focus on myself. This is partially true, since leaving out information technically isn’t lying.
The full truth is that I’m very gay. 100% gay, if you will.
I’ve known since long before I transferred to McKinley, I just choose to keep it under wraps, especially now that I’m this popular. I don’t really care if people know I’m gay, I just don’t want my gayness potentially tarnishing my reputation in the Cheerio’s. I can’t read Ms. Sylvester. I have no clue if she’s homophobic or not, and I’m not willing to take any chances. I saw her screaming at a gay kid once, telling him to go back into the closet because he was a “disgrace to gay fashion”. Then again, she also screamed at another student for saying the word “homo” as a joke. She’s certainly something, isn’t she?
You might be imagining me as some rude jock stereotype, but that’s not true. I’m neither tall nor very muscular, I always try to be nice, and I’m always down to help someone if they need it. I’m also a huge fan of Star Wars. I’m talking: watched all of the movies three times, read (and shamefully writing) Star Wars fanfiction, cosplay, all that jazz.
Nobody knows about this, except my best friend Sam. Sam is also the only one who knows about my sexuality. I only told him after he came out as bisexual to me, since I was terrified he'd be homophobic. He doesn’t share the same level of Star Wars obsession as me, but he never complains when I send him my fanfics to proof-read before uploading them on the internet. In a few days I’m going to Comic Con as Anakin Skywalker! I’ve got the cosplay completely ready, everything from the robe to a lightsabre, and I am so unbelievably excited. Sam is coming with me, he’s going as Johnny from Hotel Transylvania (who actually matches his personality perfectly!), to match with his girlfriend who’s going as Mavis. Sam is planning to introduce me to his girlfriend at comic con, since she’ll be there with a friend of hers.
“You think this is hard? Try having your limbs torn off while being burned alive, that’s hard!”. The screams of my coach pull me out of my thoughts, and I’m reminded of my burning legs. The bell rings, and it feels like I’ve been saved from my misery. I grab my bottle of water and head over to the changing room. “Great work today, Blaine” I hear someone say. I turn my head and see none other than Rachel Berry… again. Remember when I told you about the girls asking me out? Usually they stop after I let them down slowly, but this one doesn’t seem the hint, or the countless of hints I’ve given after that first one. “Thanks”, I reply quickly before practically speeding off to close the door. I’ve rejected her about 8 times now. She’s asked me out by singing songs, reading poetry, a dance recital, and begging. I fear the next stunt she’ll pull will be showing up at my house and breaking in.
Once I’m finished changing, I grab my stuff and walk to my next class. Walking together and talking with Sam, I suddenly notice a boy I recognise being shoved by some footballer.
“Are you going to cry, gay boy? Going to call your mommy? Oh, wait! You can’t!” the guy says. The boy stands up, and breathes in sharply. “Look, Karofsky, just leave me alone alright? I have to get to class” he says before walking away. I look at Sam, who has seemingly no clue what just happened. A pit forms in my stomach, but there’s nothing I can do now. I say bye to Sam and enter my classroom, where I see that same boy sitting in the front row, seeming unbothered by what happened just mere seconds before. Seeing that we’re the first 2 in the classroom, I stop by his desk.
“Hey dude, are you alright? I saw what happened in the hallway” I say. He looks up at me, and for the first time I get a good look at his face. His eyes are blue… Very blue. A gorgeous blue. Almost intoxicatingly blue. His lips are a light rose, and it’s clear to see he takes good care of his skin. He seems surprised, before responding. “I’m fine, I’m used to it”, he says, before adding “thanks for asking though, I’m Kurt”. “You shouldn’t be used to that, you should report that to the school or something. If you ever need something, I’m here for you. My name’s Blaine” I say before walking to my desk. Other students start coming into the classroom, and the lesson starts.
I couldn’t pay attention at all. I couldn’t get that boy out of my head. Kurt. He’s undeniably cute, anyone with eyes can see that.
Kurt:
You’d think picking on random gay kids at school would get boring after a while. I fear that this is not the case. How do I know this? I’m the random gay kid, and it seems the guys pushing me into lockers never get tired of doing so. I’m better than them, I know that. They’ll all be working for me someday. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t really suck being me right now though.
Still, I’ve got more to do than fear some jocks. Like glee club! I’ve been in the club since before Mr. Shue took over, and though we’ve had our ups-and-downs it’s always a good time. Glee club, though I hate to admit it, is kind of my main source of social connection. The people there are all insane, and they always have beef with one another somehow, but they’re my friends. I know that, if need be, they’d stop what they’re doing to come help me.
My best friend is Mercedes. She’s the strongest female voice in the entirety of glee history, if I may say so. I’ve cried to her performances an embarrassing amount of times. Glee, and my life, wouldn’t be the same if she weren’t in it. I certainly am not alone, but it’s quite lonely being the only out gay kid at school. I wish I had someone I could talk to who could understand, and relate, you know? I love Mercedes, but she’s not gay, nor a boy for that matter.
This is a huge gay stereotype, but I LOVE fashion. My weekends consist of scrolling on Pinterest, searching for inspiration to make a new ginormous outfit by hand. I’ve recreated Lady Gaga’s most iconic looks, like the red outfit with the huge hat she wears in the music video for Abracadabra. She’s a huge inspiration for me, together with many more designers.
In a few days, I’m going to Comic Con, to show off one of my own designs! I’m so nervous, but I can’t wait to be surrounded by people who get me. People who see and understand my vision. Mercedes is coming with me, mainly because her boyfriend, Sam, is going to be there with a friend of his. I’ve never met them, so I’m hoping that they’re kind. I’m happy for her. Mercedes is genuinely happy since they’ve started dating, and if this Sam is anything like she tells me, he’s a great guy. She deserves nothing less than the world.
“Hey look, it’s that twink Kurt!” I hear while I’m walking down the corridor. I don’t even have to turn around to know who it is. Karofsky. “He’s probably thinking about bears and otters or something!”, he says to his friends while laughing, who don’t seem to understand the meaning of those terms. I keep my head held high, and continue walking. “Don’t ignore me Kurt, you f*g!” he screams before pushing me to the floor. I’m able to catch my fall, but it still hurts. He says something about my mother, but I’m too busy wiping off my hands to pay any attention. I stand up, and look him in the eye for once. “Look, Karofsky, just leave me alone alright? I have to get to class”. I walk away before he can say anything else.
I enter the classroom, which is completely empty. I sit down in my designated seat which feels significantly colder than I anticipated. I place my head in my hands, and stare at the wall in front of me, catching my breath. I’m pulled out of my thoughts when I hear a voice next to me.
“Hey dude, are you alright? I saw what happened in the hallway”, a boy with brown eyes and horribly gelled hair asks. His eyes remind me of the bark of trees, which distracts a bit from the buckets of gel I assume he poured on his hair. It takes me a second to notice his Cheerio’s uniform. I recognise him from somewhere, but I can’t seem to remember where exactly. “I’m fine, I’m used to it”, I say. He looks a bit upset at that answer, so I add: “thanks for asking though, I’m Kurt”. “You shouldn’t be used to that, you should report that to the school or something. If you ever need something, I’m here for you. My name’s Blaine”. Wait.. Blaine? Blaine Anderson? The star cheerleader, most popular boy in school, just asked me if I’m alright? Is this a dream? Before I can say anything more, other students storm into the classroom, and he takes his seat.
I usually don't get the appeal of the popular kids. To me, they seem like people who never got told no and have grown to be the most insufferable people imaginable. This boy seems different though. I don't really know him, but he seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being. I can definitely respect that. I can't deny that his face wasn't hard to look at either.