"Hello, Im Kurt Hummel and Ill be singing Mr Cellophane."

They were a small group and Kurt could honestly say that he didnt like many of them, but in one tiny choir room he started to feel like he was alive again. With Blaine, he had felt confident in his skin, knowing there was someone who was similar to him and understood how he felt. Now he was the only openly gay kid in school and he was marked as different. The daily dumpster tosses still occurred and he had to make sure he had at least one change of clothes in his locker at all times, in case of slushy facials. Everyone knew he was gay, but it didnt stop him wanting to be treated the same as every one else. His confidence only went so far.

His dad knew he was gay, but without Blaine, Kurt started to think that his life might be easier if he denied, a little, of who he was. The beating, the very obvious way he had been knocked down, affected Kurt, made him doubt. High school was another three years, perhaps he should try to blend in more, he thought.

So once his sophomore year started, he tried out for the kicker role on the football field. He briefly imagined Blaine watching him try out, as he performed his little Single Ladies dance and kicked as precisely as he could. He wondered if Blaine might be proud of him, but amidst the hugs from impressed football players, Kurt realised Blaine no longer cared what he did.

As soon as Blaine left town, Kurt tried to contact him through all avenues open to him. He emailed, left messages on Facebook, text – but nothing seemed to get through and all lines of communication seemed to now be denied. Blaine was no longer online and Kurt had no forwarding address. There was no mention of him at school, life continued and even Kurts friends no longer said his name out loud. Kurt started to doubt whether he had even existed. He remained a constant presence in Kurts life, though invisible. A strong sense that Blaine might know what he was up to or be able to see him, came to him every so often. He was never there, but a persistent image in his head.

As he kicked the ball over the line in his first match, his dad was so proud, jumping up and down afterwards, telling everyone this was his son. When they got home, Kurt began to follow his skincare regimen carefully, as Burt came to congratulate him once again.

"Night time skin care is a big part of my post-game ritual," Kurt explained as he saw Burt through the mirror.

"I dont know what to say about that," Burt said, laughing slightly. "I was really proud of you tonight, Kurt. I wish your mom would have been there… I mean alive."

"Thanks."

Burt continued to look at Kurt through the mirror, who remained in his seat, wondering what his father wanted to say.

"You know I love you just the way you are, right?" Burt said carefully. "You dont have to change for anyone, Kurt. I mean that."

Kurt nodded slowly.

"Being part of the Glee club and football has really shown me that I can be anything," Kurt began, but Burt shook his head.

"You can do anything that you put your mind to, Kurt, but you are you and no one can take that away from you. Dont let what happened with Blaine change you."

Kurt opened his mouth in surprise; hearing someone say his name out loud was shocking, it brought everything back.

"Those guys didnt win, they cant knock you down. Blaine ran; he ran away for whatever reason, but you dont have to change or let them get to you."

Kurt felt his eyes sting with tears he hadnt allowed himself to cry over his lost friend. Burt seemed to understand, coming closer to rest his hand on Kurts shoulder.

"Whether you meet Blaine again or not, dont let anyone grind you down. It wasnt your fault Kurt. They just dont understand your right to love whoever you want."

Kurt could only nod and accept his fathers words; the hurt was slowly eating away at his insides.

His sophomore year went by in a rush of colourful outfits and awesome songs: theatricality and fierce friendships. He put his all into glee club, Mercedes quickly becoming his best friend and Rachel someone he loved to hate. Although he always missed Blaine, through new school experiences, he could start to imagine that he had never been there. School life was bearable until Miss Pillsbury came to tell him the awful news early on in his junior year.

His fathers heart attack left him shaken. He had never believed in god, but his friends insisted he believe in something. It was only when faced with becoming an orphan – losing the one person that had remained in his life – that Kurt reassessed his existence. He had lost his mother and Blaine. He couldnt lose his dad. So he begged and clung onto his hand for dear life, promising that although he had no obvious faith, he did believe in his relationship with his father. When Burt squeezed his finger he silently vowed to do everything in his power to solidify that bond.

Afterwards, Kurt looked after his father, healthy food was prepared and stress was relieved and avoided at all costs. A new boy started school, Sam, and although his sexuality was undetermined for a while, the duet situation only highlighted to Kurt that he was truly alone. With Blaine they could be out and proud together, maybe only friends, but at least never alone. Here, in his junior year, he was the only person that couldnt act on any feelings he might have. As people started to discover their soulmates etched on the palm of their hands, Kurt knew he would never be able to hold hands with a guy he liked down the hallway or slow dance at his prom. Despite what happened afterwards, the Sadie Hawkins dance was a perfect memory. Blaine and Kurt had slow-danced, beaming at each other, knowing the statement of going together was going so well. Oh how wrong we had been, Kurt thought.

He sang Victor/Victoria on his own, determined to be fierce and brave. If there was no one like him at his school, he would use it as an opportunity to shine and become a star. He had an unknown ally in Rachel, who offered to sing a duet with him after his stunning performance on the stage.

"I know youre lonely," she said, as he reapplied his hairspray. "I cant even imagine how it must feel to have feelings in high school that you cant act on. You will probably get a boys name on your palm and not know who they are, or when you might meet. But you have twelve people who love you just the way you are. You might be lonely, but youre not alone."

There was nothing more isolating than bullying for Kurt. He had become used to the daily dumpster tosses, a gang of knuckleheads trying to prove their power at school. The slushies he could handle, but the pushing became more frequent. Karofsky started to make his life a misery by shoving him at a locker every time he saw him down the corridor, calling out nasty names and pushing his face closer to Kurt who could see the red in his eyes. He had no peace.

Sometimes he had a witness, someone from Glee club would be walking along beside him, but everyone was too scared to take a stand. Whenever Kurt was on his own, he would call out, refuse to be pushed down and demand that it stop. Mr Schue couldnt help, refused to acknowledge that it was a problem within the school. Kurt knew he would have to suffer alone.

He got to a boiling point one day when hed taken teasing for his song selection in glee club and been pushed a little too often by Karofsky. He raced after him, into the locker room and shouted.

"What is your problem? What are you so scared of?"

"Besides you sneaking in here to peek at my junk?"

"Oh yeah, every straight guys nightmare, that all us gays are out to molest and convert you. Well guess what hamhock, youre not my type."

"Is that right?"

He came closer, more menacing, but Kurt stood his ground.

"Yeah, I dont dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time theyre thirty."

Kurt saw the fist come closer, heard the threat of violence, but he still stood there, not backing down. He wondered if Blaine would be proud of him now. An image flashed before his eyes: Blaines smiling face as they walked hand-in-hand after the dance. They had been so happy leaving school that night and Kurt watched Blaines face fall as he realized the guys approaching were going to ruin that happiness.

"Get out of my face!" Karofsky shouted, bringing Kurt back to the present. Karofsky was one of the oldest in the year and had discovered something about himself that he didnt want to admit. But here Kurt stood, his flawless face fierce and courageous and Karofsky couldnt stand it any longer. He lunged forward, grabbed Kurts face and kissed him hard.

Kurt covered his mouth quickly, backing away with a horrified expression, causing Karofsky to be even more frustrated and angry at his behaviour. With one more hard punch on the locker, he was gone.

Karofsky left him alone for a few days, no contact, no shoving against lockers and Kurt did what he could to avoid him. At the end of the week he noticed Karofsky scratching at his palm absently by the lockers and he realized what Karofsky must have noticed. He was gay and had a male name on his palm.

He couldnt call him out on the kiss, couldnt out him like that, so he left it, avoided him as much as possible, until one day Karofsky approached him again.

"Question for you," Karofsky said, hitting Kurts shoulder hard to get his attention. "You tell anyone else what happened? How you kissed me?" He looked horrified to even say the words.

"You kissed me and I understand how hard it is for you to deal with, so no I havent told anyone."

"Good," Karofsky said, looking relieved. "You keep it that way, because if you do, Im going to kill you."

The air stilled around him, almost as if all the music in the world stopped and Kurt only resumed breathing as Karofsky left. He was trapped here, in this school without support, no one to notice. He had never felt more alone.

With no money for private education, Kurt had to remain at McKinley, becoming more and more isolated by Karofskys behaviour. When asked if he was okay, he would merely nod or give simple answers; the truth would take too long to explain, even to his dad. Instead he would get lost in his dreams of the future, sing to music in his bedroom and aim to give the best glee performances each week. Rachel and Mercedes cared, tried to stick by him whenever they could, but even Rachels persistence wasnt a match for Karofskys menacing behaviour. Occasionally, Karofsky would approach him, knowing that Kurt was alone, and speak near his ear. Names were one thing, but Kurt would come to dread the quieter words of threat whispered as Karofsky passed. Kurt would blink and he would be gone, but the words stayed, seeming to scratch in his heart and make him believe he was worthless. As he looked in the mirror at home he no longer saw the fierce boy that wasnt afraid to be different. Now he was burnt, damaged by how others viewed him. He didnt want to fight anymore for his right to be fabulous.

Mercedes agreed to go to the prom with him, as neither of them had dates and at least it was good to go as friends. The thought of prom reminded him of the Sadie Hawkins dance with Blaine and he didnt want to draw attention to himself this time. He had a fleeting idea of creating his own outfit in homage to Alexander McQueen but, too scared to rock the boat, he planned to wear a simple black suit instead.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Mercedes asked one morning by the lockers, prom slowly approaching. He looked up in surprise. His grey baggy sweater made his pale face sag under the lack of inspiration. Mercedes looked concerned.

"I know youve been different lately and I worry about you," she said quietly, coming in closer in case he didnt want others to hear. "Youre not as fabulous as you used to be and I miss you."

Kurt was under the impression that no one noticed. He rarely smiled anymore, just kept it together for school, shone a little in glee club, but felt weighed down by it all. He felt the cracks begin to show as he looked on Mercedes concerned face. His eyes filled with tears.

"Im okay," he whispered, trying to keep the strain in his voice from showing.

"Youre not, Kurt," she said a little louder. "Weve all noticed, but no one wanted to say anything. We know youre under a lot of pressure right now and we get that Karofsky is horrible, but we all miss you."

His stomach churned at the thought theyd been discussing him with no real plan to support or help. He felt angry.

"So you want me to magically morph back into how I was before, like nothing has happened?" he sneered. "My life is a living hell and no one seems to notice. Karofsky can do what he likes, because hes a jock and hes careful enough to be violent or threatening when no teacher is about. I suffer this on my own, Mercedes," he almost shouted. Her eyes started to fill with tears, that he was right, and she didnt know what to do. "My best friend leaves me when the going gets tough and Im left on my own!" He shouted the last three words, leaving Mercedes trembling slightly where she stood, too helpless to offer any real support. He waited for a while, willing her to say something that would remove the pain. She opened her mouth to finally speak.

"Its your birthday next week," she said weakly. "Youll discover the name of your soulmate soon."

Kurt had almost forgotten his birthday was eminent, just a few days before prom and he felt slightly happier at the thought. His soulmate was out there somewhere. His soulmate was out there somewhere. He could live for that, but staring at Mercedes now, aware that he was alone, facing this on his own: Kurt was fed up.

"That doesnt help me now," he said, his bitch face returning, truly feeling sick and tired of it all. "My soulmate isnt here now."

"Maybe not," she said sadly. "I dont know mine either, but just maybe theyll be perfect and something to look forward to in your future." He became a little calmer at the thought. "Maybe you should live for them, make sure when you do meet them that youll be the perfect version of yourself. The Kurt Hummel I know wouldnt just go to prom in a simple black suit. The Kurt Hummel I know designs and wears fabulous outfits that deserve to be seen."

Kurt felt a little weak at the thought. Hed been beaten down, made to feel small and diminished and he had let them win. The idea of wearing something slightly daring seemed too big, too scary so he knew something had to change.

"I did have an idea," he said quietly, his face showing just a hint of that Kurt magic that made Mercedes beam.

"Good, thats more like it," she said. "I need my arm gay when I go into that hall."

Kurt had finally finished his outfit and he sat in his window seat, admiring the final product as it adorned the mannequin. It was the night before his seventeenth birthday, the day he would find the name of his soulmate etched on his palm. He remembered the conversation he had with Blaine, wondering if they would be each others soulmates, knowing that they might meet someone else in New York – the dreams of the big city and all its lights. Kurt laughed to himself as he watched the darkened sky light up with a million stars. It seemed ridiculous now, with Blaine so far away. Kurt knew his soulmate would never leave him.

The window seat had been his favourite part of his bedroom as he grew up. He often sat there with his mother as she read bedtime stories; the night sky a perfect backdrop to his imagination. He would imagine he could fly away like Peter Pan or just about see the man on the moon from where he sat. His mother would gently curl the lock of hair on his forehead as she sang, or kissed his head as she made up stories. He was nursed through sicknesses there and rocked to sleep when he had nightmares. As Kurt sat there now, he realized hed avoided sitting in that very spot for a while, the seat so locked up in his sweet childhood that it seemed silly now. He saw the clear sky littered with stars and remembered wishing for his soulmate on a shooting star – hoping that wherever his soulmate was, he was safe and happy. Kurt found himself humming a familiar song as he wished again.

Goodnight, my someone,

Goodnight, my love,

Sleep tight, my someone,

Sleep tight, my love.

Our star is shining its brightest light

For goodnight, my love, for goodnight.

Sweet dreams be yours, dear,

If dreams there be

Sweet dreams to carry you close to me.

I wish they may and I wish they might

Now goodnight, my someone, goodnight.

True love can be whispered from heart to heart

When lovers are parted they say

But I must depend on a wish and a star

As long as my heart doesnt know who you are.

Sweet dreams be yours dear,

If dreams there be

Sweet dreams to carry you close to me.

I wish they may and I wish they might

Now goodnight, my someone, goodnight.

Goodnight,

Goodnight.

He could only wish that wherever his soulmate was, that he would find him soon and take Kurt away; a long way away from this hell he was living in.

Kurt was startled awake. He had tried to avoid sleeping so he would be awake to feel the expected tingle on his palm, but his body had betrayed him. He felt along his palm in the dark and struggled to turn his bedside lamp on.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust, his skin registering the familiar mark before his eyes. The script was cursive and twirling at the edges but the name was unmistakable:

Blaine Anderson

Kurts breath stopped.

Blaine was his soulmate. It couldnt be. If Blaine was his soulmate, surely he would have gotten in touch by now. Soulmates werent supposed to part, or voluntarily leave each other. Kurt knew Blaines birthday had been two months ago, more than enough time for him to get in contact. Kurt hadnt gone anywhere. His heart sank. If Blaine was his soulmate, he already knew, which meant he had decided Kurt wasnt worth it. Whatever damage had been done was too much. Kurt felt his eyes fill with tears. There would be no accidental press of bodies where their souls would reawaken. There would be no magical moment where life became right and a purpose given. If Kurt thought he felt alone before, nothing matched the feeling of utter hopelessness that filled his heart now.

David Karofsky was announced as prom king, as Kurt looked on from the back. He was planning to sneak out early, before the rush at the end, but he stopped just before the door as he heard the words that would still his heartbeat too.

"And now 2011 William McKinley High prom queen, with an overwhelming number of write-in votes is… Kurt Hummel."

There was an eerie silence where Kurt thought he could hear a pin drop. The pointed stares, the claps from the side of the room, made him feel like he was in a bad horror movie where the camera would go closer rather quickly. He ran and never looked back. Kurt Hummel wouldnt accept the title, wouldnt show off his fabulous Alexander McQueen inspired outfit. He would hide away, no reason to take the humiliation, his cheeks streams of tears.

As he drove home, his phone beeping with a slew of text messages, he couldnt help but cry out in his disappointment.

"Blaine, where are you?"