First times weren't exactly Blaine's strong suit: the first time he'd been at the seaside he almost drowned (so he'd been told countless times by his brother, who seemed to still enjoy telling that story quite a bit and couldn't help giggling every bloody time – so much for being the eldest), the first time he'd sung in public he had to run off stage after thirty seconds to avoid throwing up in front of everyone (primary school, nasty business), the first time he'd kissed someone he unintentionally bit the girl's lip (yes, a girl – and not even a cool one, she simply didn't even know what the world fashion meant – stupid spin-the-bottle).
And now, first day in a public school; and not just any public school, of course: famous McKinley High. Famous for various episodes of bullying and the general tendency among the most popular students to being complete douchebags, that is.
Blaine straightened up his shoulders along with his bow-tie, desperately looking for some courage somewhere inside of him, took a deep breath and got out of his car.
The hallway was full of students of all kinds and sizes: literally giant football players who seemed to occupy pretty much all the available space and made quite a lot of noise; tiny fit cheerleaders who apparently didn't go around alone but at least in pairs, talking and laughing, a couple of them even holding hands; then there were those that Blaine didn't even notice at first, the ones that went quite unnoticed unless some of the “cool ones” wanted to have some fun by picking on them.
Blaine tried to swallow, feeling his mouth suddenly dry; his hands automatically went to the already perfectly in place bow-tie. For the first time in his life, he was actually starting to regret wearing it: it simply didn't fit in that environment.
Hell, nothing about him did.
He made a mental note of dressing more plainly for the next days – as much as he hated it. He didn't want to be picked on instantly; he was the “new kid” and that was already going to be quite tough, he didn't want to make things even more complex for the sake of fashion. Of course he wasn't going to start dressing like one of those big tough stupid guys that seemed everywhere at McKinley, he thought with a shudder. No, he would just have toned down a bit his outfits, that was all. And he would have tried to be nice and friendly with everybody, always with a charming open smile – which was one of his strong suits, as he knew very well.
Yes, it is definitely going to work out perfectly, he thought hopeful.

***

Mercedes yawned as she opened her locker, looking definitely hopeless. How the hell was she supposed to look, after all? It was another Monday morning, the start of another long and boring school week.
As she was picking up her books, a voice called behind her.
“Hey girlfriend!”
She turned towards it, already smiling, and took gratefully the coffee she was being offered. “Thank you, hon”
Kurt Hummel leaned over to kiss her cheek as he began to frantically tell her how big of an idiot his brother Finn was – as if she didn't already know.
Finn wasn't actually his brother, but his step-brother: Kurt's father, Burt, and Finn's mother, Carole, had got married only a couple weeks before. Finn and Kurt were as different as it goes: the latter was openly gay, addicted to Vogue and madly in love with Marc Jacobs, while the former was the quarterback of the football team, seemed to have a whole wardrobe full of down vests and was currently dating none other than Quinn Fabray, probably the prettiest girl in the school and head cheerleader, back on top after the baby-drama of the previous year, when she got pregnant while cheating on Finn with his best friend Puck. All this while she was President of the Celibacy Club, of course.
The only thing Finn and Kurt had in common was the Glee Club, but even then, Kurt loved performing Broadway classics (generally girl songs, because of his sweet high-pitched voice), while Finn was more for classic rock and stuff like that.
With all that, Mercedes found it amazing, the way they had been able to bond and become like real blood brothers. Of course they were always yelling at each other and arguing over the stupidest of reasons, but deep down they really cared for each other, supported each other, looked after each other and had no hesitation whatsoever to stand up for each other.
Mercedes realized just then she had completely checked out from the conversation, and try to catch up on what her friend was talking about: apparently, he had changed subject and started to describe the outfit he was wearing at the Sing-Along on Friday night, or something like that. She didn't have to struggle much to understand, though, because the topic was suddenly changed again.
Kurt had stopped in the middle of a sentence, staring at something behind Mercedes.
“Now. Who. Is. That” he muttered, evidently interested.
Mercedes turned and guessed almost straight away whom her friend was talking about: there was a guy, roughly their age, desperately trying to open his locker which appeared to be stuck. He must be new, she thought, considering both his clear lack of experience with McKinley's cheap lockers and the fact that she had never seen him before – because he certainly didn't go unnoticed, with his attentively styled hair, his striped bow-tie and all. She understood why he had caught Kurt's eye: this guy's features shouldn't have worked, but for some strange reason on his face they did, and perfectly. She was just classifying him as quite charming, though a bit too short, when Kurt rushed towards him, without even apologizing for bumping her, without even looking at her.
Mercedes rolled her eyes and went back to her books in the locker. She knew that look on her friend's face, and she knew that it meant only one thing: the game was on.

***

Kurt walked in the new guy's direction, chin up and a little smirk on his face, and stopped just in front of the locker next to his. He leaned on it and stared at the guy, waiting to be noticed. But Mr Cool-Bow-Tie-Nice-Ass was clearly too focused on his locker to notice anything else, so after taking his time to observe the details that had escaped one first look from a certain distance (and after indulging a little bit more on his ass – because, yeah, great ass – and thinking that he would have very much liked to grab his fit shoulders, shove him against the lockers and press his body against his while kissing him passionately – well), he decided it was time both to put him out of his misery with the locker thing and to introduce himself.
“You have to push it slightly to the left” he said with that certain tone of voice, slightly amused but almost bored, which he like to call the hunt voice.
Mr Should-Not-Be-Wearing-Clothes-Though-They-Show-Quite-A-Good-Taste looked at him with a start, probably not expecting anyone to talk to him, and clearly not in that precise moment.
“Oh, uhm...”
“Here, let me” Kurt said quickly, and he leaned over to his locker, very much conscious that his left shoulder was almost touching Mr Bashful-Is-The-New-Sexy's arm, and that almost touch unleashed a pleasant tension between the two of them that instantly made Kurt feel a lot more interested in the day.
He easily unlocked the locker and smiled widely at the new guy as he thanked him and explained the obvious, that is his being new at McKinley and something about his old private school where things seemed a lot easier in every way and that he still had to get used to all that – not that Kurt was really interested in all that. To be honest, he wasn't even listening, too busy studying the pleasant curve his lips draw when he was talking. He had a really nice voice, too.
I bet he's a good singer.
“Kurt. Kurt Hummel” he said suddenly, not caring if he had interrupted him in the middle of a sentence or something.
The new guy shook his hand and smiled at him. “Blaine Anderson”.
Oh, the game is so on.