Lima General Hospital

"Well isnt this one precious." A fake blonde with equally fake breasts said in a high-pitched, baby voice. "Hi! Hi!"

The head nurse Carole Hudson rolled her eyes good-naturedly at the womans typical behavior. However, she stopped smiling when she realized which child the woman was cooing at, and immediately rushed over. Too late, the woman had the little baby in her arms. The baby wailed unhappily. The woman was not at all affected by the crying, insisting that she knew how to handle it. Carole pressed her hand to her mouth and stepped back. The blonde held the screaming child toward the ceiling: one hand supporting his head and the other cradling his bottom.

"Oh, oh. Shh, shh, shh."

The baby suddenly ceased his crying.

The blonde shot Carole a smug look. "See there-"

With a precision that Carole Hudson had never seen in her life, the baby projectile vomited right on his captors face. The milky liquid oozed down her face and dripped into her cleavage. The woman stood there in shock, her face unpleasantly puckered in disgust. Carole quickly took the baby away. She used a soft cloth to dab the spittle from the corners of his mouth, then gently placed him back in his crib.

Carole had been the one to help deliver this little guy the night before. He had proven a handful from before he was even born. The way hed been positioned in the mothers uterus hadnt called for a C-section, but it still had made it difficult to get him out. When he finally did arrive, he was a little underweight yet seemingly healthy, but had refused to cry at all. Now crying was all he did, especially when someone went near.

Without a word the blonde lady stomped out of the nursery, her heels clacking noisily.

Around the room many of the other nurses paused their work and stared. A few gathered around, staring at the small child in wide wonder. Under their scrutinizing eyes the child began crying again and harder.

"Dont crowd him." Carole cautioned the others.

The newest intern, a petite blonde from the south, peeked into the crib. "What devil child is this?"

Another girl reached for the blue information tag hanging from the bars, she read aloud, "Blaine-"

"Anderson?"

All of them turned around. Their eyes met a hopeful looking young man standing in the doorway, a young child peeking behind his legs. They shared looks.

"Uh-oh." Blaine Andersons big brother Cooper giggled.

Sixteen Years Later...

The bright late-summer sun peaked through dark curtains, illuminating a disheveled teenage boy with light brown hair sticking out in various directions. The boy dragged his hand up the other side of the mattress. Finding nothing there it stilled and its owner groggily slid into a sitting position.

"Baby?"

Across the room a dim light emitted from an open door. From inside a boy with curly hair poked his head out, a toothbrush hanging limply from his mouth. The boys triangular eyebrows lifted when he caught sight of the other boy now awake. The head disappeared back into the bathroom, followed by the sound of spitting then a running faucet. Moments later he stepped out of the bathroom, humming softly.

"Good, youre awake." He said, walking over to an old dresser. "Now get out."

The brunette still sitting in the bed went slack-jawed. "But, what? Baby-"

"Im not your baby." Was his flat reply, then he began picking up the articles of clothing strewn about at random and tossed them at the no longer welcome guest. The clothes might have been either of theirs; it didnt matter, so long as Ben (a name he called all of his one night stands) had his ass moving.

Ben was given enough time to put his pants back on, then he was being unceremoniously shoved through the house and out the front door, still clutching a bundle of clothes. Without a second thought the door was slammed in his face.

Blaine rubbed his eyes with his palms and sagged against the door in relief. That one had been a weird one, picked up at a sketchy bar in west Lima and taken home with Blaine on his motorcycle without a seconds thought. Clingers like this always made Blaine question his choices... in the end, however, he always bit back those uneasy feelings and continued making the same mistakes, though Blaine would be hard pressed to admit them mistakes.

He walked back to his room, tugging his dirty shirt over his head. When he walked past the window he glanced out. Ben had finally left the porch and was walking off, but not before hocking a loogie on his Harley as he passed by. Blaine smirked. The asshole would have a nice long walk home if he lived anywhere near where he was picked up. As he began to get dressed the guy was quickly driven from his mind; he was no longer his problem.

Blaine Devon Anderson was what many would call a bad boy. Maybe he was. He wasnt concerned with labels. To him he was just a guy, a little down on his luck in some aspects, that tried to enjoy life all the while doing what he had to survive. He had left home at sixteen. Left, kicked out, driven away, however it happened he was gone.

His life as a bachelor with no parents breathing down his neck was going on three months. He had a trust fund from his deceased grandparents and a small bank account that he rarely touched, and then was working a steady, legal job at some family owned shop... as far as his older brother was concerned. So he had been fired not even a month into the job. He didnt need that place with its obnoxious customers and greasy air. There were other means of quick money if it ever came to that. Other than that, Blaine spent the rest of his time emerging himself in music and finding warm bodies for the night.

It was almost the ideal life for a teenage boy. Sure it was lonely sometimes, increasingly so over past months, and he missed the days before he had this ridiculous image and lifestyle to maintain... Still, it was better than being suffocated by family or a boyfriend that he absolutely did not want. He hated being suffocated, and there were many rules set in place to keep that from happening. One such rule was the out before the sun comes up policy for one night stands. That morning had been a little slow in that department, but at least everything was back on track.

Once glance at the old alarm clock on the bedside table sent Blaine scurrying. Thanks to Ben he was an hour off schedule. A hat would have to suffice in lieu of gel. Blaine threw on a plain black V-neck and dark jeans, grabbed his old backpack, then ran out calling, "Bye Coop!" before slamming the front door.

The batty old lady from next door was on the other side of the chain-link fence yelling profanities at a tree stump. She had been diagnosed with Dementia awhile back and her family had abandoned her. After she really became crazy many of the neighbors left. The property value on his own house was lowered as few others had been willing to buy next to a crazy lady, making the rent much more affordable. Thinking about her situation sometimes made him sad, but that was life.

Today would be Blaines first day back at public school since the ninth grade. The hope was that he could make it on time for the occasion. It was the first day... of the second week of school.

It would be the last time he ever brought someone home on a school night, he swore to himself.

Ten minutes after leaving the house his Harley was skidding to a halt in the parking lot of Limas newest coffee house, cleverly named The Lima Bean. Hed only recently began the habit of drinking coffee as a pick me up, particularly after nights like the last.

The place was a nice looking, low-key family type business a few miles down from the local high school. Surprisingly, not many people paid his appearance much mind as he got in the small line. He managed to catch the eye of a barista working the cash register and threw her flirty looks and winks while he waited. By the time he made it to the front and placed his order the poor girl was redder than a tomato and had possibly wet herself.

"Medium d-drip?" The girl stuttered.

Blaine glanced around; the other employees were busy and there were no other customers behind himself. He casually leaned against the counter and turned up the charming factor, then began shamelessly flirting with the girl. Bless her soul, the barista took the attractive bad boy in stride and kept up with the banter, going so far as to flip her hair and bat her lashes. After five minutes Blaine glanced at his watch and remorsefully announced his leave. The girl made clear her disappointment, but allowed him to slip away with his unpaid for coffee.

Once she realized what had happened - if ever she did - she would probably hate him. Blaine didnt care. In fact, hed already forgotten the color of those eyes that hed just spent three-hundred seconds pretending to stare into. The odds were he would never see her again. There were hundreds of other coffee shops and baristas to be played. If the girl was fired because of him then perhaps she would learn a valuable lesson on professionalism and stop objectifying customers.

Predictably, everyone stared at him from the moment he killed the engine in the school parking lot. In the hallways they parted like the red sea, watching him with fear and ill disguised curiosity. After a quick trip to the main offices to pick up a schedule and locker information, he went around searching for the English hall. On the way there he took in his new surroundings. As far as he was concerned it appeared to be a typical public school: unimpressive, dirty, chaotic. The change from private school wasnt totally unwelcome. So far hed already seen one flamboyantly dressed boy get doused in an icy concoction of red dye number six, a hobbit and a T-Rex making out, and an actual line of people waiting to get tossed into a dumpster.

He might have been surprised by the last one if not for the countless stories hed heard from former classmates that had once walked these halls.

It seemed that what McKinley lacked in integrity it certainly made up for in depravity.