Blaine hated his job.

It was dirty, it was cruel, and it was just gruesome.

Sometimes he wondered how the world got here, but the world turned lazy and stupid overtime – oh, well, there's the answer. That stupid-ness and laziness lead to organ failures of millions of people. And from that grew GeneCo, a company specifically made for organ transplants.

Soon after, changing organs became a fashion trend, so the wealthy people of the world would give away all their money without a second thought to change their lungs or spine or even their heart.

For the sick and poor, GeneCo still had open arms for them to transplant their organs.

But it came with a price, of course. That was when Blaine Anderson came in. He was a Repo Man, killing those who couldn't pay off their surgery on time. And he hated it.

There was nothing he could do about it, though. GeneCo was a business owned by the Anderson family. His father, Tony Anderson, was the man behind it all.

So Blaine either worked for the company or be disowned by his own father. The man already disliked the idea of his son being gay – or "horny for other men," as he harshly called it – so why would Blaine risk losing all connections to his only dad?

Not only did Blaine hated the fact that he had to be a Repo Man to at least prevent his father from kicking him out, but he also had to take orders from his older brother, Cooper Anderson – the second boss. Of course it had to be Cooper. Everyone liked Cooper; he was the ideal of a perfect human being. To Blaine, however, he was the biggest douchebag. Sure, the young Andersons unconditionally loved each other, but ever since their mother passed away from heart failure when they were still kids, they had been in competition to win the love of the big man.

Cooper was obviously winning.

"What took you so long? You got another assignment."

Blaine glared at his older brother, who was overlooking the gloomy city of Lima from a glass window at the second to top floor of the company building. When an immediate answer wasn't received, Cooper turned around to face the younger.

"She was a fast runner," Blaine finally said. "She had very good lungs."

"Yes, well…too bad you had to take them from it," Cooper said with a shrug, walking to his desk to grab a folder that had the woman's file in it. He stamped the cover with "REPOSSESSED" before placing it on a pile that had other folders with the same stamp.

"'It' was a 'she', Coop," Blaine said, glaring again.

"They're nothing once they're dead. Anyway, here's your next assignment: 24-year-old Kurt Hummel, surgery on both eyes, two weeks late on his fourth and final payment. Hmm, what a shame. We should really lower the price on hearts, don't we?" Cooper smirked, passing Hummel's file to his brother across his desk.

Blaine slowly took the folder, opening it to see a picture of the young man called Kurt. "I thought eye patients had three weeks before the final payment," he remarked, not looking up; he kept his eyes on Kurt's blue ones, after the surgery. They were amazing, and not only were they blue but they were also specks of green and grey. Blaine had to admit that even though this was a sick company, he was glad that his father hired no one but the best surgeons in the world.

"I figured Dad hasn't given you the new policies for heart transplants, so it's in that file. Two weeks. We even gave Hummel an early notice about it when he made the second payment. Clearly, the kid wasn't grateful enough."

Blaine didn't say anything to that last comment; his eyes traced the line of Kurt's neck and collarbone before he admired the perfectly styled hair. When he realized that perhaps he was staring at the picture for a bit too long, he lifted his head to look at his 28-year-old brother.

"You want me to do this one tonight, right now?" he asked. "I think you're forgetting Dad's family dinner with the president. You know he's going to – "

"And I think you're forgetting that he didn't invite you," Cooper cut in, leaning back in his chair and rested his head on his hands. "Well – until you finish that assignment, anyway. I doubt it'll take long, Blaine. Just look at him. One touch and he shatters into pieces."

"I…is that what he said? About n-not inviting me?" Blaine closed the folder, his voice going hoarse.

"It's Dad, you know how he is," Cooper replied, sighing. "As long as you kill that Hummel off in time, you're invited to join us for dinner. If not, he's cutting half of the award. Now, I'd appreciate it if you get out of my office, the blood from your suit is starting to drip on my carpet. See you at dinner, bro…maybe."

Without another word or even a glance, Blaine hastily left, taking the file with him. While in the elevator, he blinked several times to hold in the tears that threated to fall. It was just a stupid dinner, he told himself. So what if his father didn't want him there? It was a stupid fucking dinner that Blaine shouldn't care about.

By the time he walked out of the main GeneCo building, he turned that sadness into anger. Tony never wanted his youngest son at important dinners, but Blaine was just as important as him and Cooper, wasn't he? He was a Repo Man, for fuck's sake. He was the one who did all the dirty work. If it weren't for Blaine, all these people – now lying in piles all over the town – would run around freely with their new organs, making the company go bankrupt.

If it weren't for Blaine, GeneCo wouldn't offer the payment plan for poor patients. In fact, GeneCo would be nothing without Blaine motherfucking Anderson.

Taking in a few deep breaths, he let the Repo Man emerge from within him. Once he let the conscious of the legal assassin swiftly cleaned his suit and gathered his equipment, Blaine was ready to stab the hell out of that kid Hummel's eyes.