Kurt hadn't seen Blaine since the assembly catastrophe He'd gone around on the Saturday with Burt, but halfway up the drive his father had seen something that had made him change his mind and pretty much drag his son back into the house. Kurt didn't know what it was and his father wouldn't tell him, all he said was "now isn't quite the right time, just wait a little while". The boy now stared at his front door, before he had been verging on eager to tell his friend how he felt, but now the excitement had gone stale and the worry had set in. His stomach churned at the thought of school, it definitely hadn't been a positive experience without Blaine there, it made him realize how much the boy did to protect him. There was no protection from the slushies and dumpster tosses on, Thursday and Friday had been a fresh reminder of the hell that he would go through without him.

He glanced nervously around the classroom, mouth dry with anticipation. Monday, first lesson: math. He hated math, it allowed for no creativity or originality, and those were the two things that summed Kurt Hummel up. He took his seat, Blaine hadn't arrived yet.
"Oi, homo," he turned, he'd got used his new name, and turning was better than ignoring it, he'd learned that from experience. "Where's your boyfriend?" Kurt's stomach leaped a little at Blaine being referred to like that, even if it was derogatory.
"I don't know," he replied, shortly, turning back to face the board as Mr Ryans wrote up the date and the bell began to sound. Blaine didn't arrive that lesson.

Blaine sat cross-legged in front of his mother, he was still convinced that she should have gone to the doctors, but she maintained that she was fine, just like she maintained that she'd tripped and hit her head on the coffee table. This wasn't the first time Blaine had seen his father get angry, but it was the first time he'd ever been threatened by him, and it scared the hell out of him. After he'd heard his mother scream Blaine had gotten up and stormed into the living room, where his mother lay curled on the floor crying, as red stained the floor. "Leave her alone!" he'd yelled, body shaking from a mix or rage and terror. His father hand turned to him, eyes blazing.

His hand subconsciously rubbed the bruise on his collar bone. "Mom," he whispered, he felt his heart clench as she flinched at the soft noise. "You need to go to a doctor..." he shushed her as she began to protest. "Then we can leave, we can leave him. Run away, change the locks...I don't know, just something! We need to get out." But nothing he said could convince her, she told him that she could never leave him and that, although Blaine might not understand why, that rather than fight he should just make it easier for himself and her. He nodded, knowing what he had to do.

Blaine walked away, taking out his phone and scrolling down his contacts before clicking one and pressing call. It had all been going so well.

Getting ready for school the next day took even longer than normal, he took out the black skinny jeans and white v-neck, as well as his Letterman jacket. He was dressing to impress. He took the car keys and got into his car, noting as he pulled out of the drive that Kurt's car had already gone.

The drive to school seemed to take very little time and as he parked he felt a churning sensation in his stomach , it was the first time since his first day he'd been worried about coming to school. He got out, slamming his door behind him and raking the car park with his eyes.

Blaine's eyes alighted upon pale skin and blue eyes, his target. He walked forward, eyes fixed on those blue ones and hands clenched and sweating. Something told him he shouldn't do this, but he knew he had no choice. This was for the both of them. His hand reached into the soft brown hair, caressing it slightly as he lent down to the puckered lips, which tipped up to meet his. He was trapped in an embrace, he had no idea why people were so obsessed with this, to him it felt sloppy and uncomfortable. A tongue swiped and he opened his eyes and mouth in shock, allowing it entrance to his mouth. But that no longer concerned him, his open eyes had found someone else's in the car park crowd, but, with a dramatic turn, the tear filled eyes had gone. Kurt shouted his mind, as he watched his best friend's head disappear into the crowd. The kiss broke and he looked down at the short skirted cheerio, wishing she hadn't been his first kiss.

Kurt had never run faster in his life, and yet still, it wasn't fast enough. He kept telling himself he had no right to be upset, it wasn't like he had been dating his obviously straight best friend. He was just delusional enough to have convinced himself that Blaine reciprocated the feelings he housed for him. That was his own fault not Blaine's. But why hadn't Blaine told him? They were best friends and yet he hadn't trusted him enough to tell him that he had a girlfriend. How long had it been going on? Was that why he had objected to being set up with Rachel? Kurt sighed, heavily, slumping down onto his desk. It was going to be a long day.

The lesson ended and Kurt found himself staring out of the window, eyes glazed and vacant. His English teacher patted his shoulder, making him jump a little. He realized where he was and began to scrape his stuff together, slightly panicked. "I'm sorry Mr Knightly I didn't mean t-"
"It's okay, Kurt," his teacher interrupted, forehead stitched in worry.

Mr Knightly was Kurt's favorite teacher, he was handsome with dark blonde hair and big brown eyes, his oversized glasses and elbow patches looked a little odd with his obviously young face. Kurt thought it might be an attempt to prevent students from swooning over him, but he still thought the man's pale skin and English accent were adorable. Kurt had to be thankful for Blaine, because otherwise he was fairly sure he'd have a full blown crush on the man - even if he could see the glittering golden ring on his left hand.

"But are you okay? You were out of focus pretty much all lesson." Kurt shook his head, biting down on his lip to prevent himself from crying. "Is it Blaine?" Kurt cricked his neck he looked up so quickly. Mr Knightly laughed, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the desk across from Kurt's. "Just because the rest of the school's blind, it doesn't mean I am," he teased and Kurt blushed, furiously.
"Am I that obvious?" he whispered, eyes cast down in embarrassment.
"No," his teacher answered thoughtfully. "But I know you Kurt, and of I couldn't tell from you I'm sure Blaine would have revealed all, you're much less obvious than him. So what's going on?" he stood up, walking towards the door and signaling for Kurt to follow him.

The two of them walked side by side in silence, waiting for Kurt to explain his predicament. Mr Knightly was quiet, waiting for Kurt to speak. The boy was easily his best student and he worried about him in such a closed-minded school like McKinley High. He hated being here himself, knowing that people looked down on him and it was even worse for Kurt. He himself had been bullied in school and there had been no teachers for to talk to, no one who'd believe him. He couldn't let that happen to Kurt too, the boy reminded him so much of a younger him.

"Blaine and I had been best friends since middle school, we move here and suddenly he gets all "cool". He still talked to me, we were still close." Mr Knightly nodded, Kurt was telling him why he already knew, but there was one thing that had changed.
"Kurt, this is all in past tense?" he questioned, forehead so clenched that his eyebrows had met in the middle, Kurt nodded, sadly.
"I've always felt...more than he did," he swallowed before continuing. "But I'd convinced myself that he liked me back and then..." Kurt was cut off by a chorus of cat calls, as a large group of jocks and cheerios came into sight. Two of them were crushed against the wall, almost violently, as the others laughed and whistled. A lump formed in Kurt's throat. "Well," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I suppose that was simpler than me telling you."

Kurt stormed off, leaving his teacher staring, shocked, at Blaine locked mouth to mouth with some tall cheerio. His face fell, finally understanding the full gravity of Kurt's situation, better, possibly, than even Kurt did. His finger toyed with the golden band as he entered the classroom, sitting down at the desk and sighing heavily.

Kurt didn't seem to be able to go anywhere that week without having his vision affronted with Blaine's new PDA habit. On the Friday he'd decided to take his study period into the library, a Blaine-free area nowadays, since reading became too uncool for him to go anywhere near it. However, apparently the library still had it's uses to Blaine, the bookshelves seemed to be great things to make out against, judging from the immense noise the two were making. Kurt had heard the two come in and hidden in the back, which ended up being just behind where the two had found themselves sucking-face. Then he was stuck there, listening to them moan into each others mouth's, Kurt's teeth were clenched, forcing back the tears that were threatening to spill. He stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet and falling against the bookshelf, with an almighty crash. He heard the terrible plunging sound of a broken kiss, before two people appeared in front of him.

"Lady Hummel?" laughed the girl, her eyes full of disgust, Kurt could feel the sarcasm bubbling in his chest.
"What are you doing?" asked Blaine, a slight crack in his well kept armor, but the confusion quickly hardened to mirror the girl's expression.
"Isn't it obvious?" she drawled, eyes glinting maliciously. "He's just a pervert, creeping around watching people making out, probably gets off to it when he can. Let's give him something to really push him." She clasped her mouth around Blaine's, thrusting her tongue in and grasping the back of his head with one hand. The other hand began to wander lower and lower before slipping between his underwear and groping him roughly. Kurt wanted to throw up and he wasn't the only one, Blaine felt violated, trapped. He couldn't stop her, he had to pretend he liked it. Thankfully the hand was removed after she realized there was no reaction, no enjoyment.
"Hope you liked that, you sicko," she laughed, caressing Blaine's face and planting kisses on his jaw. "Maybe you'll get more one day."
Blaine just stood there, trying to resume his composure, but still feeling horrific inside. He hadn't wanted that to ever happen, especially not in front of Kurt, but he couldn't just apologize and get on with it. He had to protect them both.
"Blaine?" whispered Kurt, his voice imploring, but Blaine didn't crack. He couldn't let himself crack, he had to give Kurt a reason to never want to talk to him again.
"Leave me alone," he took a deep breath, building up the venom before adding "Freak."
Blaine Anderson had never felt more disgusting, as he walked away hand in hand with a monster.
Kurt Hummel had never felt more alone, as he slumped against the bookshelves with tears in his eyes.

Kurt closed his eyes, taking himself away from the library, from McKinley High, from the closed-minded town of Lima, Ohio. He was in New York, where he belonged. Where people didn't look at him with disgust, where crowds flocked because they heard a rumor he was in New York, where people listened to what he had to say, to the words that he sang. He was on a stage, with thousands of people cheering and clapping, waiting in earnest for him to even whisper a word. Because they loved him. Because they appreciated him. The stage light focused on him and the screams grew in anticipation. He takes the microphone and the crowd is silent, there's an audible intake of breath, as he begins to sing.

Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows.
Without you, the seeds root, the flowers bloom, the children play.
The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly, without you.
The earth turns, the sun burns, but I die, without you.

The air was still, all that could be heard is the angelic voice of Kurt Hummel, no one dared to even breathe too loudly, nothing that could distract from the voice. But it was so much more than a voice. It was his heart, his mind, his life, his everything. Everything was inconsequential. Times of day, business meetings, schools, meals, nothing. The crowd were entranced, they couldn't move, because without that voice, they would surely die.

Without you, the breeze warms, the girl smiles, the cloud moves.
Without you, the tides change, the boys run, the oceans crash.
The crowds roar, the days soar, the babies cry, without you.
The moon glows, the river flows, but I die, without you.

Then someone in the crowd, mounted the stage. He smoothed back his dark, curly hair, his eyes bright with emotion and microphone gripped tightly in his hand, a ring of daisies clipped around his wrist. They were singing together, as the crowd looked on in awe.

The world revives—
Colors renew—
But I know blue, only blue, lonely blue, within me blue.

Without you.
Without you, the hand gropes, the ear hears, the pulse beats.
Without you, the eyes gaze, the legs walk, the lungs breathe.

The mind churns!
The mind churns!
The heart yearns!
The heart yearns!

They were so close, their eyes and hands entwined, their souls laid out for the crowd to see, to feel.

The tears dry, without you.
Life goes on, but I'm gone.
'Cause I die, without you.

Without you.
Without you.
Without you.

Kurt's eyes drifted open, and wished he could go back into his fantasy. There were no crowds, there was no stage and there was most definitely no Blaine. He was in his school library, no one would cheer him, and he was alone. Completely alone.

Blaine couldn't reach home quick enough. He ran to the bathroom, sticking his head under the tap and swelling it out with water, but nothing would rid him of the taste. He collapsed to the floor, panting, fingers gripping at the edge of the toilet bowl as he launched his face over it, regurgitating the taste. He felt dirty, disgusting, cheap. He threw off his clothes, putting the shower to it's fullest and hottest, before standing beneath it's cascade. He scrubbed himself fiercely, ridding himself of her touch. He sat down, tears streaking down his face. The water turned slowly from boiling to freezing and yet Blaine could not make himself move. Through his tears he whispered "'Cause I die, without you."