It's only your first day here, and already you feel like you're accepted. Well … if you can call it that. A few boys from your French class talked the teacher into letting you into their house – Windsor? Yeah, Windsor – and they seemed really keen to get you there. Maybe making friends wouldn't be as hard as you thought, but the only person you really care about making a good impression on is Blaine, and you're slightly worried that it's too late for that and he thinks you're an overly-emotional lunatic who's prone to breakdowns, which is just embarrassing. You try not to dwell on it, hoping that if you ignore it for long enough, it will go away, thinking instead, with some measure of relief, that you've only got one more class today. You try to remember the directions that Wes from your history class had just given you to get to your art class. Hopelessly lost, you're about to stop one of the boys on the stairwell when you catch sight of an all-too-familiar gel-helmet bobbing towards you down the corridor. You freeze for a moment, wandering whether to approach him or to run away, until you realise with a blush that you could just stand there and he would walk right by … unless he recognises your breathing or something.

Pressing your back into the wall so you're out of the way of the general always-rushing student body, you keep your eyes fixed on his hair and try to breathe as quietly as possible as he gets nearer, but as he does, you notice how irregular and jerky his normally-confident walk looks. Glancing to either side of him, your eyes widen as you take in the identical boys, each with a shock of white-blond hair, walking there. Your forehead wrinkles as you try to figure out whether they're just escorting him to his class or … no … they've got their arms looped through his and they're practically dragging him. You let out a gasp of shock, looking around you in alarm, but nobody else seemed to have noticed. The sight was all too familiar to you, if seen from a different angle – usually it was you being dragged off for a dumpster-toss or some such like, with everybody turning a blind eye to your distress. And you'd thought Dalton would be different, but here were a couple of bullies, picking on the blind boy of all people!

Determined not to be a bystander, you follow them down the hall, trying to figure out how to make your voice sound loud and assured, trying to figure out what to say to get them to leave Blaine alone as well as what would most make him fall in love with you … wait, what? Completely side-tracked by your unruly thoughts, you don't pay attention to the fact that you are blindly following a pair of potentially dangerous boys into a more deserted and less-well-lit part of the school until they stop walking abruptly.

"We know you're following us," come a pair of eerily synchronised voices, and you feel yourself shiver slightly. "But no, you're not, are you? You're following your white rabbit," and even their laughs are synchronised, and okay, this is just creepy. "We think you want to be his knight – don't you? … Alice," and they punctuate the last word by spinning around to face you, dragging Blaine with them. You're about to call out to him, regardless of what these terrifying twins might do, but you're completely derailed when you see the expression on his face. For the most part, it'sbored, with just a hint of annoyance with turns swiftly into an apologetic grimace.

"Sorry about these two, Kurt – just ignore them – they're just trying to scare you."
"No we weren't!" they cried, indignant, "we were trying to interrogate you … it's not our fault that little Alice likes to follow you down rabbit-holes."
"Blaine, I don't understand! I thought they were … you know … going to hurt you … but what do they mean 'interrogate' you? And why do they keep calling me 'Alice'?"

"Because that's who you are." Only one of them says it this time, but they both cock their heads slowly to the right and, okay, you've had enough.
"Firstly, my name is Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, secondly, I don't really know what's going on here, but leave Blaine alone!"
"See? We told you – he wants to be your knight," and they're back to speaking together, somehow delighting in your angry outburst. Blaine however, does not seem amused.
"Guys, cool it. Kurt, these are the Brightman twins, Evan," he said, elbowing the boy on his left, "and Ethan," doing the same to the one on his right. "They're … well, they're … you'll get used to them. They just wanted to see if you were Windsor material – if you'd follow us down here."
"Of course he followed you – white rabbit, remember?"
"Oh, and they're into their Alice in Wonderland references – you'll get used to that too."
"But what did they mean 'interrogate'?"
"We're right here, you know – you could always ask us," and their matching grins remind you of a Cheshire cat and, oh god, there you go with the references.

"Nothing – it doesn't matter," says Blaine, a little too quickly, "I've got to get to class now anyway or I'm going to be late and Murdoch's going tokill me … Tweedles, could you get me there?" and he tugs on their arms, suddenly eager to get out of there.
"We're in the East Wing, Blaine – you know your way from here. Off you go," they encourage, un-looping their arms from his and giving him a nudge in the right direction.
"But-"
"No 'but's Blaine. We've got to … acquaint ourselves with dear Alice," and as they say this, you find them suddenly on either side of you, and then they're linking arms with you and you're halfway down the corridor before you can even blink.

"Be careful with him!" calls Blaine after you, and you smile a little into your collar.
"Oh, we won't break him – we know you want to keep him," they call back, and the sound of the blood rushing to your face drowns out Blaine's reply.