It was all that every moment throughout high school had led up to—every friend made, every label, every relationship, every class. It all led up to senior year. That’s what it was about, after all, wasn’t it? One final chance to do something; one final chance to rule the school and be remembered for it.

The one final chance to be somebody.

And Blaine Anderson was ready.

“Anderson!” Snapping his head up, Blaine pushed his sunglasses down the slope of his nose halfway as he stepped out of his Dodge Challenger SRT8, smirk in place and a swing to his hips as he shut the door behind him.

Showtime.

Two pairs of arms jumped on him, clapping him on the back and shoulders as he leaned back against the cool metal of his door, sliding a cigarette from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, he propped it against his lower lip before he turned his head towards Mike’s extended lighter.

Two drags and he grinned. “Good summer, boys?” he asked through a mouthful of cigarette.

Finn shrugged somewhat as Mike whistled under his breath. “Hudson’s been on Modern Warfare since June,” he pointed out, earning himself a shove.

“Shut up, Chang. At least I wasn’t at Asian Camp,” he shot back. Blaine swiped out a tube of gel from his pocket, squirting some onto his hand before he reached up to swipe his hair back until it was slick, and wiped his hand on his black pants.

“Where’s Puck?” he drawled out. He took a look around the school parking lot for his best friend, over the heads of groups of girls chattering loudly, wearing as little clothing as possible (as was expected) while boys caught up with their girlfriends.

“Haven’t seen him yet,” Finn replied, checking himself out in the sideview mirror of Blaine’s car, smoothing his own hair back before stopping as he spotted a familiar pair of glasses through the mirror. “Oh, there’s Artie, man!”

Straightening up, Finn turned around alongside Mike to greet Artie as he wheeled himself over. “Sup, homeboy?” he called up, extending his hand out for a fistbump to Blaine, who returned it with a grin.

“My dick,” he replied easily, picking his cigarette and fixing the three boys with a wolfish grin. “All summer.”

The chorus of ‘hey!’ and ‘woooooh!’ that followed was drowned as the revving of a motorcycle boomed through the parking lot and swooped down towards them, sliding through the pavement until it rested next to Finn’s old truck.

Puck stepped off, running a hand through his Mohawk and knocking his knuckle against the front of the bike. “Morning, boys.”

“Dude.”

“The fuck did you get that bike, man!?”

Puck sighed through a grin, sauntering over to them and punching Blaine’s shoulder in greeting before hopping onto the hood of his car to smirk down at them. “Bought it. Been working my ass off all summer cleaning pools so I could afford this baby,” he said, nodding towards the bike Mike was currently running his hands over like it was gold.

“I’m gonna fix it up. Take it for a run against the Warblers this year.”

That perked up Blaine’s interest and he pushed his glasses up over his head as he surveyed the motorbike. “Smythe running again?” he asked, turning to glance at Puck, shielding his eyes with a hand over his brow.

“That douchebag’s not gonna know what hit ‘im,” Puck replied instead, grinning and hopping off. He shouldered his own leather jacket and cracked his head to the side. “C’mon boys. We got a school to rule.”

---------------

‘Welcome home, Titans!’ Kurt read, as he bit down on his lower lip, hands folded in front of him, and stepped out of his car towards where students were already bustling their way into the building.

He sighed. He hated being the new kid.

“Kurt!” a girl’s voice screeched behind him, and he whipped around just in time for a mass of bright pink and yellow—oh, the horror—to slam into him, enveloping him in a warm hug. “I’m so glad I caught up with you. I was wondering if you’d be lost or if you’d know where to park and everything but here you are!”

Rachel Berry. Kurt smiled at her shyly. “Yes, I’m here,” he replied, unsure of himself as he looked around, Rachel already having looped her arm through his and leading him towards the school grounds.

“I’m going to introduce you to all my friends,” she announced excitedly, maneuvering her way around people with a hop in her step. It made Kurt feel a little jittery that they were attracting attention. Especially with the horrendous blouse Rachel was wearing (not that he was going to say anything; that was certainly not a way to make friends).

In fact, he only knew Rachel because he’d met her back in New York. They both attended a summer camp at NYADA (she wanted to in show business, like he did) and they’d bonded over Barbara Streisand and Wicked.

When he’d found out he was staying in L.A after all, he’d quickly shot off an email letting her know he’d be attending her school. It was a relief, really, to know somebody here. His mind wandered to soft shirts and warm kisses under the summer sun and wondered what he was doing now; where he was, what school he went to…

Kurt hadn’t even gotten a chance to get his number, both figuring it’d be a summer fling, and hadn’t been able to let him know he was staying.

“—a little wary with Quinn. She’s great but can get a little scary if you get on her bad side,” Rachel was babbling next to him, tugging him along towards where he could already see a group of girls off to a side of the main building, huddled under the shade of a tree.

“Right,” Kurt agreed quietly, not sure what he was supposed to do with that and took a deep breath when they reached Rachel’s friends.

The first thing that caught his eye was a head of bright pink hair under a cloud of smoke. His eyes widened somewhat as he took in the group of girls before him. The one smoking was wearing circular, dark shades and a black shirt that hung loose over her torso that read ‘hell is so hot right now’, and leaning casually against the tree with an expression that clearly said ‘I don’t give a fuck’.

“Girls!” Rachel quipped, tugging at Kurt’s elbow as she steered him towards them. “This is my friend Kurt. He just moved here from New York.”

A black girl with large golden hoops as earrings to his right arched an eyebrow at him and smiled a little. “Mercedes,” she nodded, before turning back to where she was filing her nails, as the other integrant of their group, a blonde with a dumbstruck expression stared at him.

Kurt pressed his lips together. “Hi,” he said quietly, looking around. Rachel stepped in again. “Kurt, this is Brittany,” she said, motioning to the blonde, who kept staring for a moment, rendering him thoroughly uncomfortable.

She blinked. “Are you a unicorn?”

There was a moment of silence that passed between them as Kurt stared right back, torn between wariness of a prank, and confusion. He was, however, spared again as the girl with the pink hair spoke up from his left.

“That means she thinks you’re pretty,” she drawled, straightening up and taking another long drag of her cigarette before flicking the butt of it off to a side, looking at him up and down. Her voice had a raspy edge to it, and she had a nose ring that made him nervous being in her presence. “I’m Quinn.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kurt stammered out as a response, pressing his lips together and glancing at Rachel for support. “Are all of you seniors, too?”

Quinn smirked. “What, do we not look old enough?” she asked, and Kurt immediately regretted asking. “Let me put it this way, pretty-face.” She stepped over to him, dragging behind a leather satchel which she clung onto with long, black fingernails.

“The Skanks are royalty at this shithole of a school,” she said, voice still low, like it was a secret. “Find yourself lucky to have been dragged over here.” And with that, she hooked her satchel over her shoulder and left without another word.

Kurt swallowed. “Did I do something to upset her?” he asked Rachel, who was sighing at the way Quinn had left, and quickly shook her head.

“Oh, no, no, don’t worry about her. She had a…rough summer,” she replied, reaching into her backpack—also pink—for her cellphone, checking something. “We do have to get to class, though! Mercedes, your nails are fine. C’mon, we don’t want to end up with the front seats.”

The blonde—Brittany—waved at Kurt with a smile before hopping off after Quinn, and he smiled back quietly. “I should go get checked in at registration,” he finally decided, turning to Rachel. “I’ll see you in class.”

“I’ll save you a seat!” Rachel promised, leaning in to squeeze Kurt’s shoulder and kiss him on the cheek before tugging on Mercedes’ arm and leading her towards the school building as well, along with the rest of the student body.

Sighing, and figuring it could have gone a lot worse, Kurt followed suit, quickly making his way towards the registration office as everybody went to their respective classes. Glancing around, he ducked inside and looked up at an elderly lady sitting at a desk. “Hello. I’m new here. I was wondering if you had a schedule for me? I’m not sure where to go.”

The lady looked up with a warm smile. “Oh, are you, darling? Welcome to McKinley. Let me get you set up and then you can head straight to class!”

“Thank you,” Kurt replied with a smile of his own, and sighed, glancing back towards the open door of the office. This was going to take some getting used to.