“You lived in New York? How amazing!”

“You can speak seven languages? Holy shit!”

“How many instruments did you say you could play?”

“Shut up! You have family in Germany and visit them every summer?”

And Blaine is just sitting there, gobbling up the praise like some greedy child.

Kurt rolls his eyes and stares at the book in front of him. This is such bullshit. That praise is meant for him. It’s rightfully his. He worked hard for that praise, for the love and adoration of his fellow impressionable students, and he absolutely despises Blaine Anderson for taking it all from him in a matter of weeks.

It’s been almost a month since school started, and everyone is still fawning over the new kid. Come the fuck on, Kurt thinks. He’s not even that new anymore.

“-don’t you think, Kurt?” he hears someone ask.

He looks up from his book with wide eyes, looking for the source. Quinn is sitting near Blaine’s desk, holding her legs so her Cheerios skirt barely covers her thighs. He mentally rolls his eyes. Even after getting pregnant last year, she still finds a way to be a whore. Christian hypocrisy at its finest, Kurt hisses in his head, but he smiles beautifully at her.

“My apologies, Quinn, I missed your question.”

“Oh, I was just saying that Blaine here is so interesting. Almost as interesting as you!”

Everyone’s giggling in agreement and Kurt has to clench his fists in order to not give her a piece of his mind. Instead, he settles for a demure laugh and says, “Oh, not that interesting!”

His classmates, of course, misinterpret his comment and giggle some more. Some even protest his remark, exclaiming that Kurt is just as interesting as Blaine and that he’s entirely too modest. Once again, he’s fooled them all.

However, he looks over at Blaine and sees the shorter boy staring curiously at him, almost as if he’s studying him. Kurt freezes for a moment, panicked that Blaine might know his secret. However, that’s completely impossible, so he relaxes and shoots the still-staring boy his best smile before returning to his book and sighing. He needs to calm down before he trips up and exposes himself.

----

Blaine comes home that day and throws himself face down on his bed. His body is exhausted, practically melting into the mattress, but his mind is racing, so napping is certainly out of the question.

He can’t quite put his finger on the enigma that is Kurt Hummel. The boy is obviously well-liked, and rightfully so, as Kurt is probably one of the nicest people he’s ever known. Well, he doesn’t know Kurt, really. While Kurt is extremely sweet to all around him, he keeps Blaine at a cold distance, and Blaine is fairly certain he’s caught Kurt glaring at him during classes.

Blaine has half the mind to think that Kurt hates him, but then Kurt will give him that perfect, bright smile that makes his knee tremble and there’s no way Kurt could hate him.But then why won’t Kurt talk to him?

He’s not exactly having boy-problems, per se, but this is pretty close, seeing as Blaine is just as confused about his feelings for Kurt as he is about Kurt’s thoughts on him. He wishes he had someone to talk to this about, like his mom.

He sighs, rolling onto his back to stare at his ceiling. His mother. His terse, tense mother. He chuckles bitterly at the mere idea of talking to his mom about his sexuality.

He remembers when he came out to his parents a few years ago, when he was fourteen. While his father merely glared at Blaine and left the room, his mother had just sat there, completely silent, until Blaine moved towards her, teary-eyed and pleading, causing her to flee. Ever since that day, his parents hadn’t looked at him the same.

Blaine is definitely gay. He’s extremely proud of it, too; proud to be a part of a community, proud to be different. Or well, he usually is. It’s so hard to be comfortable with yourself when your parents and family look down on you because of who you are.

His parents had informed the other family members of his ‘predicament’, as they all called it. Although most, like his parents, pretend it never happened, others still refuse to let it go. The first summer after coming out, his aunt and uncle in Germany offered to pay to send him to conversion camp until he was better, normal, and straight. Everyone else who disagrees with his lifestyle just calls him “fag” and “queer” when addressing him or ordering him around.

It hurts. Blaine has spent many nights crying himself to sleep, wishing upon star after star that things would change for him. Slowly, indifference settled within him. He couldn’t care less about what his family thinks about him. His parents, however… His parents’ approval is what drives him.

That’s why he decided that he would try harder than ever to be the perfect son. If he was the perfect son, then his sexuality wouldn’t matter. If his sexuality didn’t matter, then he would make his parents proud again.

He’s in a daze when he hears a knock on his bedroom door.

“Blaine, dinner!” his mother calls, almost bored as if it’s past the point of routine, through the thick wood. He opens his mouth to answer, but he can tell she’s already gone.

He squeezes his eyes tightly shut, biting back tears. He’s trying so hard, so incredibly hard. But why is nothing working?

----

“Dude, you’re studying? It’s a Saturday!”Kurt sighs in irritation, looking up from the massive pile of books open on his bed. He runs a hand through his unstyled, messy hair and looks up at the door where Finn is standing.

“You act like this is news to you or something,” Kurt snaps. “I study every single day. And it would do you some good if you studied, too.”

Finn makes a face like he’s just taste something bad at Kurt’s suggestion, but doesn’t budge from the doorway. Kurt is quickly losing what little patience he had to begin with.

“I just don’t know why you try so hard. Come on, man, take a break. Play some video games with me!”

“Finn, seriously. Leave me alone to study and go throw a fucking basketball at your ceiling or jack off or something.”

Kurt immediately returns to his books while Finn stands there with a look of utmost confusion on his face.
“How did you know that’s what I-“

“FINN!” Kurt growls, picking up a book to throw at the door, but Finn’s running down the hallway and slamming his door shut.

“Jesus, how the hell did I get such a nimwit for a step-brother?” Kurt mumbles to himself as he writes down some notes on pass� compose. And to think, a few years ago, he had been infatuated with Finn. Kurt snorts at the memory. Oh, how times have changed.

He groans, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and glances at the clock. He has been studying for close to five hours, and although he was fine before, the realization of it makes his mind bleary. Deciding a break and a snack is well deserved, he trudges down the stairs in his favorite pair of black, baggy sweat pants with a hole in the right thigh and a McKinley hoodie to the kitchen, where he finds his father grabbing a beer from a fridge.

“Well, someone is comfortable,” Burt comments as he looks up at his teenage son. Kurt rolls his eyes and grabs a large bag of Chex Mix from the pantry.

“There’s no one to impress at home, Dad.”

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. No reason to get defensive, kiddo,” his dad says from inside the fridge, a tired tone in his voice like he’s had this conversation many times before.

Kurt stands against the counter, chewing his trail mix loudly, and Burt leans against the stove across from him, looking at his son curiously as he sips on his beer. Kurt looks up with his eyebrow arched and gestures his hands out in a silent ‘what’.

“I’m just wondering when you’re going to give this up,” Burt starts hesitantly, as if every word is a land mine. Kurt scoffs and digs out another handful.

“I don’t see why you and Carole are so pushy about me and my so-called double life,” Kurt interrupts, mouth filled with half-chewed pretzels, crackers, and Chex. Burt shakes his head, sighing as he sips his beer.

“Because that’s what it is: a double life, Kurt. Aren’t you tired of being a different person all the time? Wearing a mask? How do you even know who really likes you for you?”

Kurt shrugs, clearly disinterested. “I’m not exactly concerned with who likes me for me. What I’m doing is working for me just fine, like it has for the past three years. Senior year is no different, Dad. Jeez, let up already.”

Burt’s eyes flash angrily. “Hey, don’t talk to me like that. I’m your father, and I’m just trying to help.”

Kurt looks up at his dad with a raised eyebrow. “This is one of those times where you leaving me alone about it helps more than you trying to do anything.”

He grabs another large handful of Chex Mix and tosses the bag on the counter before heading back up to his room, crumbs spilling in his wake. Burt sighs as Carole walks into the room and kisses him on the cheek.

“Any luck?” she asks softly and Burt shakes his head. “No worries, we’ll get there.”

Burt looks up in the direction of Kurt’s room and can’t help but feel that his wife is extremely wrong.

----

“I just don’t understand why you can’t stand him. He’s perfectly nice!”“You mean perfectly awful. Rachel, I’ve never seen so many bowties and suspenders used so many times as an outfit since Steve Urkel.”

Rachel smirks at him. “You think he’s cute.”

“Ew, no.” Kurt fake gags to prove his point and turns to his friend. She rolls her eyes before casting a glance around the choir room, making sure that no one is listening.

“It’s because of your… well, you know, thing, isn’t it?”

“Jesus, Rachel,” Kurt snorts. “You make it sound like an illness.”

“I’m just saying it makes sense. He’s threatening to ruin your glorified reputation that you have slaved over for ages. I don’t blame you. I mean, I would certainly feel that way as well if someone suddenly appeared that was competition for my solos.”

“Rachel-“

“Well, we both know that will never happen. But if it did-“

“Rachel!”

“-I would dedicate myself to ridding my world of that person because I just cannot allow for there to be someone better than me after all the hard work I’ve put into my singing. I just cannot. Especially after-”

“Rachel! Shut up already and look who just walked into the room!” Kurt hisses, eyes trained on the door.

Rachel huffs and bristles, but freezes as soon as she follows his line of sight. For standing right there, in all his nerd-chic glory, is none other than Blaine Anderson, chatting excitedly with Mr. Schuester as they walk to the center of the room.

“Guys, I have a wonderful announcement!” Their teacher yells over their incessant chatter as he claps his hands together excitedly and motions to Blaine to stand next to him. “This is Blaine Anderson, and he’s your newest glee club member.”

Everyone claps excitedly, yelling and hollering their approval. Kurt feels like he’s about to vomit, all of the blood has drained from his face, and Rachel squeaks and grabs his hand.

�“I cannot believe he’s going to take this away from you, too…”

“I should have known,” Kurt mutters continuously under his breath as Rachel continues to whisper hurriedly into his ear.

“… And you are obviously the best male vocalist we have. This is just ridiculous,” Rachel finishes her monologue, shaking her head in pity. She perks up and nudges Kurt in the side. “Cheer up, Charlie, he’s about to sing and I bet he’s awful!”

Kurt slowly starts to feel better at this idea and trains his eyes on Blaine, whose smile is so wide and bright, Kurt’s certain he’s about to explode.

“Hi, guys,” Blaine begins, practically bouncing in his canvas shoes. “I’m really excited to be here, and I’m going to sing ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ by Frank Sinatra.”

“Ol’ Blue Eyes! Nice!” Mr. Schuester exclaims from his stool in the corner and Kurt has to roll his eyes. Even the damn teacher is a suck up. Blaine flashes him an excited smile before turning to the front, bouncing his foot along with the beat of the band.

”Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars.

Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars.

In other words, hold my hand.

In other words, baby, kiss me.”

Blaine grins charmingly as he snaps and sways back and forth with the music, hamming it up.

“Fill my heart with song, and let me sing forever more.

You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.

In other words, please be true.

In other words, I love you.”

Kurt’s jaw drops and he’s no longer listening because holy shit, Blaine is good. Not just decent, or pretty good, or great compared to the rest of New Directions… Blaine’s amazing. Really fucking amazing. Rachel squirms next to him and he can feel her internal war; she loves the performance, but is trying not to swoon for Kurt’s sake, and although the notion is commendable, it just makes him want to strangle Blaine more.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” Kurt mumbles as Blaine continues to dance and sing, making his way around the front row of the risers. Mr. Schue is loving it, smiling proudly, and all the other members of the glee club just think this is the best thing since sliced bread.

Blaine does a quick spin on his heel and turns gracefully, which everyone goes crazy for, as he throws out his arms and belts out the last few notes of the song.

“In other words, please be true!

In other words, in other words,

I love you.”

Kurt grits his teeth and reluctantly rises with the rest of the club as everyone jumps to their feet, clapping enthusiastically. It’s the exact same reaction Kurt always gets when he sings, except it’s not his anymore. It’s Blaine’s. All Blaine. Always Blaine. This is the last straw, he decides.

Blaine Anderson must be destroyed.