Blaine wiped away the moisture from the corner of his eye. I won't cry, I won't cry. There's no use in crying. He'd been struggling to hold himself together for the past few minutes. After listening to Kurt gush about the gorgeousFinn Hudson, Blaine finally made an excuse to leave. He walked around the exterior of the school, sinking down next to one of the dumpsters. In an attempt to make himself as small as possible, he pulled his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them.

His head dropped down onto his knees and Blaine proceeded to take a few shaky breaths. There was no use in self pity; that much he knew. Yet, there was a feeling of despair deep inside of him. This was more than just a school boy crush. Kurt was…everything. Even if they didn't talk as often, and Kurt had found new friends, he was always there when Blaine needed him.

Apparently Kurt didn't have the same attachment.

He picked up his head and began to mess with his bowtie again. At the third tie, Blaine heard a small ripping noise. He slid the fabric off of his neck to find a tear right though the middle of the cloth.

And then he cried.

He let the tie flutter to the ground next to him as he began sobbing. Not only because of Kurt, but because he was so tired of watching everything fall apart. He just felt so isolated all of the time. He had few friends at school, and those he knew were only acquaintances. Cooper came home to visit less frequently, and spoke to Blaine less often. To make matters worse, he would have to listen to his parents discuss their plans for shooting down the gay rights bill that was working its way through the Ohio government.

He couldn't tell his parents. Blaine was left to live with his secret. Alone.

A few minutes later, Blaine heard voices nearing. He scrambled up and wiped his eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, he squared his shoulders to appear as steady as possible. There were still signs of his distress only moments before: his red rimmed eyes, the torn bowtie at his feet. An outside observer, however, wouldn't have thought anything was particularly wrong. Just that Blaine looked a little tired.

A group of jocks were headed his way, pushing each other around. One of them caught sight of Blaine. He looked small and helpless despite his attempts to appear strong; he was a target. The athlete strode up to the smaller boy.

"My my, what have we here? A new freshie?" He grinned menacingly. Blaine felt himself shrink under the older boy's gaze.

"N-no, I don't go here," he said in a small voice.

"Well, seeing as you aren't accustomed to tradition here at McKinley, maybe I should show you how we greet people."

Blaine saw the jock's eyes flicker towards the dumpster, and his eyes grew wide in response. He subconsciously took a few steps back. The bully, thinking that Blaine was about to run, reached out and grabbed his arms. He then signaled for his friends to help him lift Blaine. It didn't take much; Blaine was a pretty scrawny guy.

As he was lifted into the air, Blaine kicked and squirmed to no avail. The jocks held a tight grip on his limbs, and worked together to keep him still.

Within the next few moments, Blaine was flat on his back in a pile of trash bags. There was something wet in the one under his left leg, and could feel the dampness spreading onto his pants. The group had left almost immediately after they dropped Blaine, scared off by a wandering teacher.

Blaine didn't bother moving for a good five minutes. When he finally sat up, he promised himself that he was going to ask his dad for boxing lessons. He needed to learn how to defend himself. Blaine was sure his father would be thrilled to learn that his son was finally going to show interest in a sport.

He struggled to get out of the dumpster, and fell down to the ground. His pants were definitely ruined. He sighed, knowing that he was likely to get yelled at by his mother when he got home. He brushed off his pants, and pulled a small flip phone from his back pocket.

He dialed Cooper's number, praying that his brother would pick up this time.

"Hello?"

Blaine let himself smile a little, happy that his brother answered his phone. "Hey! Coop, I needed to talk to you—."

Cooper cut him off. "Yeah, Blaine. Hold on a sec."

Blaine could hear voices in the background: something about auditions and slots being quickly filled. He fidgeted nervously, and kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure the jocks weren't coming back for him.

Eventually, Cooper came back on the line, "Hey little bro, what's up?"

"I—um. I've just been having a rough day and didn't know who to talk too. I told Kurt. About me."

"He took it well?" Cooper asked.

"Yes, but…" Blaine trailed off. Did he really want to tell Cooper everything? Blaine had always been taught to keep his mouth shut, and as a result, he had a hard time confiding in people.

Blaine's pause had been long enough that Cooper was already distracted by something on the other line. He sensed that his older brother was no longer listening, so he decided to drop the issue.

"Never mind, I'll talk to you soon?" Blaine asked hopefully.

"Yeah, of course. I'm coming home in a few weeks. I'll try to call." Cooper hung up and left Blaine on the other line.

Blaine knew Cooper wasn't going to call anytime soon, and it was even less likely that he would be coming back within the next six months. He always promised to visit, but something would always come up. Blaine didn't blame him. If he had the chance, he never would leave Lima behind him and never look back.

Blaine shoved the phone into his pocket, and made his way to the sidewalk. He'd missed the bus to come see Kurt, so now he would have to walk home.

That night at dinner, Mr. Anderson suggested that Blaine attend a private live-away high school the following year. It was located in Westerville, far enough away from home. Blaine immediately took him up on that offer. There was nothing left for him here.

Dalton seemed promising enough.