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Chapter 9

Losing my mind, losing control

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Part one

For a long moment, Blaine just stared.

'That's- that's not- I- I can explain,' he stuttered, mind working furiously, because maybe there was still a chance he could talk himself out of this. No one had actually seen anything.

JT, however, didn't seem to be listening to Blaine but was watching him thoughtfully, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. He began walking idly around the room, but never straying far from Blaine and always keeping him within his line of sight. Blaine stood frozen still by the shower room door, following JT's every movement with his eyes.

Finally JT launched into speech, his tone calm and quietly musing, 'You know, I knew the moment I saw you that there was something off about you. I knew I recognized you from somewhere, but I just couldn't place you.' JT took a small step closer, studying Blaine's face as though amazed with what he was seeing. 'Not that anyone would blame me, of course. I mean, we were just kids when we saw each other last. What's it been? Eight, nine years?'

JT looked expectantly at Blaine at that, clearly waiting for the penny to drop, but Blaine's mind was swimming, unable to think straight. 'I don't- I don't understand.'

'Come on, Anderson! You know this one,' JT urged, as if this were some kind of perverted game show. Here's your life, Blaine Anderson. Now watch it fall apart.

Blaine's mind was reeling. When they were kids? What was he talking about? Was Blaine supposed to know this guy? He searched his mind for early childhood memories. JT... JT... He didn't know any JTs, did he?

'No? I've gotta say, I'm kinda hurt you don't recognize me. I mean, it's not like I've gone and changed genders on you.' JT's eyes were positively dancing with glee at watching Blaine's struggle. 'Come on, we used to be best friends.'

Blaine's eyes widened and he took an involuntary step back, bumping into the door frame. Best friends... Blaine's only male best friend before Trent and Tyler... His best friend until the age of six... The one who had decided that girls just weren't friend material... Blaine hadn't seen or even thought about him since he had moved out of Columbus at age...eight?

'Jamie?'

'It's JT now,' he said, face scrunching up in distaste at the diminutive. James Thompson. Jamie. JT. 'And I see I'm not the only one who goes by a different name now... Amber.'

Blaine breathed out shakily, struggling not to panic, because here was the final nail in the coffin – the confirmation that this was not a situation that he would be able to talk himself out of. Even if he could come up with some sort of explanation for the packer, JT – Jamie – knew him, and the packer wasn't the issue anymore.

'Please, Jamie. We used to be friends,' Blaine pleaded, hating how small and terrified he sounded. 'Why would you do this? Tell everyone?'

'Because,' JT said, holding up his hand and shaking it so the packer still in his hand wriggled comically. 'It's amusing, isn't it?'

Amusing? Blaine swallowed painfully, and he fought to hold back the tears that were forming behind his eyes. He couldn't be here for this. He had heard enough anyway. He charged forwards, eyes on the door, but JT stepped in front of him, blocking his path. For a moment Blaine thought JT was about to get violent, but then he simply smiled and held out the packer.

'Don't forget this.'

Blaine practically ripped it from JT's hand, and then he was running – out the door and down the hall, away, away, away – JT's last shouted words following him all the way home.

'You can't run from your past, Anderson!'

Blaine's face is scrunched up in concentration, falling into frustration a moment later as he yet again fails to complete his bow tie knot. He glances in the mirror and catches Tyler, who has been finished with his tie for a while, behind him barely containing an amused smile.

'Hey, it's not funny!' Blaine says indignantly, but Tyler simply stops fighting his amusement in response, and Blaine sticks out his tongue at him.

'Oh, give it here,' Tyler says finally when Blaine fumbles his umpteenth attempt. 'Why didn't you practice before tonight?'

'I didn't think it'd be this difficult,' Blaine mumbles, watching Tyler work and trying to figure out where his own attempts went wrong.

'Well, isn't that just Blaine Anderson in a nutshell?' Tyler says fondly, but with a certain tension in his voice as well. 'Eternal optimist.'

'What are you trying to say?' Blaine asks, sensing that bow ties are not really the issue. Tyler, having finished his work, drops his hands and moves to lean against his dresser.

'I just don't want you to have any false hope for tonight.'

'I don't. I'm not stupid, Ty,' Blaine replies evenly. 'But being all doom and gloom about it isn't going to help, is it?'

'Yeah, guess you're right,' Tyler says as he draws himself up again and turns around to face the mirror, considering the two of them in their fancy dress for a moment. His eyes fall on Blaine's hair. 'Sure you don't want to do something about that?'

Blaine grins as he runs a hand through his short curls. 'Nah. I like it this way.'

'Dork,' Tyler teases as he checks his own for the occasion styled hair, before giving Blaine the once-over. 'But in that case I think you're ready.'

'You think?' Blaine asks uncertainly, turning sideways and watching his reflection skeptically as he runs his hands down across his chest.

'You're fine,' Tyler says, answering the unasked question. Neither of them mention that on some level it doesn't matter how flat Blaine's chest is. Everyone will know anyway.

A knock on the door startles them both, and before Tyler can respond, his father is standing in the doorway.

'Did you want a ride or not?' he asks sourly.

'Yes, we'll be right there,' Tyler replies quickly.

'Well, hurry it up. I ain't got all night,' his father grunts before closing the door with a snap. Blaine tries not to look alarmed.

'Don't worry, his bark's worse than his bite,' Tyler says cheerfully, as he throws Blaine his shoes and sits on the bed to put on his own. 'He knows he can't change who I am, but every now and then he likes to make it known that he doesn't like it. He probably sees me taking another boy to a dance as a good opportunity.'

'I'm sorry,' Blaine says, though he can't help the swelling in his chest at the idea that Tyler's parents – who do know about him, at least in vague terms – views him as "another boy."

'Could be worse,' Tyler says with a shrug, focusing his attention on tying his shoes, adding casually, 'What about you? I guess your parents were cool with the gay thing considering...'

'Considering the trans thing?' Blaine finishes for him, smiling carefully as he picks up his shoes and sits on the desk chair to put them on. 'Yeah, it wasn't too bad. I mean, there was no yelling or anything. I think they were mostly just a bit confused when I told them. Although my dad...' Blaine shakes his head, washing the thought away. 'Never mind. Tonight's about having fun, right?'

Blaine slammed the front door shut behind him and threw his bag on the floor along with the bow tie he had found himself frantically tearing off while he drove home.

'Dad!' he called as he shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. His dad would make it all better. He would know the right thing to say to make it feel a little less like Blaine's life was coming apart at the seams. When Blaine got no response, he stepped into the living room, repeating, voice uncertain, 'Dad?'

Of course, he remembered then. His dad had left again that morning. He would be in a different state by now. At the realization that he was alone, Blaine felt the tears he had otherwise managed to force back threaten again, stinging his eyes. He looked around the room, so vast in its emptiness suddenly, looking for some source of comfort, but what good were TV or books or even a soft couch when what he needed was to disappear into a strong pair of arms?

Blaine became vaguely aware that something in his pocket was buzzing. His phone. Right. He pulled it out to find a missed call from Kurt and four unread texts.

Blaine, where are you?

Where did you go? People are looking for you.

Please tell me where you are.

Just let me know if you're okay.

Kurt. He had been outed too in a way. Blaine felt a momentary surge of guilt at having left him there to face their friends alone, but then his heart sped up again as the word sank in. Outed. He had been outed. Everyone knew now, or they would soon enough. And Kurt was strong in the face of judgment. He would be okay. Blaine wondered what he had told them, but quickly abandoned the thought, because the thought of all of New Directions knowing and asking questions was too much, too much, too much.

Blaine stared blankly at his phone for several long moments before it occurred to him that he should probably give Kurt some sort of response lest he think that Blaine had gone and done something drastic. Another moment passed as he considered what to even say, and in the end all he could come up with was a simple I went home.

Kurt had strong arms. His embraces made Blaine feel safe and warm and loved. Kurt would come if Blaine asked. He might even be on his way right now.

But Kurt couldn't fix this. He was right next to Blaine in all this, and Blaine didn't think he could face the guilt of having brought him into it on top of everything else. Kurt had been bullied enough in his life. The last thing he needed was to be associated with someone like Blaine.

Blaine felt almost ashamed to admit it, because he wasn't a child anymore, but he really, really needed his daddy right now. He watched the phone in his hand. At least a phone conversation would be better than nothing.

'Please pick up, Dad. Please pick up,' Blaine whispered as the phone rang in his ear, each ring bringing him closer and and closer to panic, the lump in his throat growing more and more painful.

'Hi, this is John Anderson...' Blaine's heart leapt, only to sink that much deeper a moment later, when he realized this was simply the intro to his dad's voice-mail. He must be traveling still, or already in a meeting.

'Dad,' he choked out a moment later when the beep had sounded. 'I need to- Something happened at school. I- They-' Blaine swallowed thickly. He couldn't make himself say the words out loud. 'Please, I just really need to speak to you.'

Blaine's eyes were wet when he hung up, and he felt his lip trembling, but he bit his lip, concentrating on keeping the tears at bay. He proceeded into the kitchen a moment later, unsure why exactly except he needed to get away from the screaming emptiness that was the living room. Another part of him felt like he needed to not be standing still or he would fall apart completely.

There was a note from his mother on the kitchen table attached to a fifty-dollar bill.

Blaine,

Late meeting and dinner tonight. Here's money for food. Don't forget your homework.

-Mom.

Homework. Blaine couldn't even think about that now. He sighed as he sank to the floor, resting his head against the kitchen cabinet where his parents kept some of their fine china and wondering vaguely if he might feel better if he were to smash a couple of plates. Had it just been that morning that he had felt the happiest he could remember being for a long time? Like nothing could touch him and everything would work out.

It seemed so far away now.

'Pick you up at midnight,' Tyler's father calls after them as they exit the car, and a minute later Blaine and Tyler are following the crowd towards the front entrance of the school.

Blaine, however, finds his steps slowing down and eventually coming to a complete halt. It takes Tyler a few seconds to notice Blaine's absence at his side, but when he does, he turns to walk back through the thinning crowd, his brow creased in concern.

'You okay?' he asks.

'Yeah, yeah,' Blaine breathes, as he glances vaguely around at the few stragglers that still remain outside. 'It's just- first high school dance. Wow.'

Blaine looks back at his friend to find him smiling at him in that slightly indulgent way he sometimes does, which reminds Blaine that much as Tyler is handsome and his date for tonight, he really is more of a big brother.

'Scared?'

'Yeah. No.' Blaine shakes his head. 'A bit. Or just...nervous, I guess.'

Tyler considers Blaine for a moment, before taking a step forward and offering his hand. Blaine takes it gratefully. As they walk the final way to the entrance, Tyler's warm hand squeezes Blaine's reassuringly, and Blaine's muscles relax a little. He can do this.

When they step inside the immaculately decorated gym together, Blaine's eyes grow big as he takes it all in. Tables line the edges of the room, bearing drinks and snacks, and in the middle people are dancing and laughing along to the music playing from the speakers at one end of the room. Blaine kind of thinks the entire room radiates joy.

And this is what he is really here for. Part of him wants to make a statement, yes. That transgender or homosexual he and Tyler are just as entitled to be here as anyone. That no matter how much they call Blaine a girl or disgusting or sick or worthless, he knows he isn't. And he isn't going to let a few bullies take that knowledge from him.

Mostly, however, Blaine is just really excited to be at his first high school dance. To be here as a boy, dressed up in a tuxedo his mother bought him for the occasion. To have his date be the handsome gay junior from the football team – who may just be a friend, but he and Blaine still look good together. A few years ago Blaine never would have dared to imagine this.

'Pretty cool, huh?' Tyler says, still holding on to Blaine's hand and leading them further into the room.

'Yeah,' Blaine says, pushing down the lump that has formed in his throat, a smile spreading on his face instead as he thinks of the night ahead of them. 'Pretty cool.'

Blaine was pacing back and forth in his room, trying not to think but needing to; having to, because it was happening and he couldn't hide from it, but being too scared to.

The doorbell rang in the distance, and he made his way downstairs slowly, as if through a fog. He wasn't entirely aware of how long he was taking, but apparently it was long enough for the person outside to grow impatient and ring the bell twice more. The final one was insistent and came just as Blaine reached the door.

'Blaine!' a voice yelled, and oh god, it was Kurt, and was that good or bad? 'I saw your text. I know you're in there.' Kurt was trying to sound firm and demanding, but his voice wavered slightly. 'Please open the door.'

Finally Blaine opened the door, finding Kurt on the other side, anxious features melting into relief at the sight of Blaine who, for his part, remained impassive. He didn't have the energy for facial expressions.

'There you are. You're okay,' Kurt breathed before going in for a hug, which Blaine was ready to reciprocate, because yes, Kurt was strong and warm and wise. He would know. He would be reassuring. And then he might say something to make Blaine smile, just so that for a tiny moment the weight on Blaine's shoulders might seem a little less.

But then as Blaine caught sight of a figure hovering some twenty feet behind Kurt, he jerked back in surprise, and Kurt did the same in response to Blaine.

Finn.

Finn was standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and worry. When Blaine caught his eye half a second later, something in Finn's expression shifted into something... Blaine didn't study it to figure out what it was. All he registered was that it was different – Finn had never looked at Blaine like that – and the next moment he was slamming the door shut, because no, no, no. He could not face that.

'Finn!' Kurt shrieked on the other side of the door. 'I told you to wait in the car!'

Blaine closed his eyes as he steadied himself against the door. The room was spinning around him, making nausea rise in his stomach. His mind was spinning, circling the thoughts he was so afraid of. Memories he wanted nothing to do with. Terrifying realizations of what was to come. Blaine's whole world was spinning out of control, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to hang on or let go. He heard Kurt's voice calling him through the door, but his mind was hazy and he could make no sense of the words, let alone think of a response.

He couldn't do it. Couldn't face going to school tomorrow and have everyone look at him differently. Have everyone look at him and know what he hid beneath layers of clothing. Not when he had done it before. Not when the world had already shown him what he was worth, and it wasn't much. People like Mike or Tina or Rachel. His friends. He couldn't bear the thought of how they would treat him from now on. God, the jokes Santana would make.

Somehow Blaine had ended up on the floor, leaned against the door. He breathed out heavily, trying to get his breathing under control, but it came out shaky and staggered. His heart was beating so hard and fast it hurt. His palms were sweaty, but at the same time he felt cold, his whole body trembling, though somewhere he was aware that it wasn't from cold. He did know what was happening to him, because he had gone through it before – though somehow that thought was not comforting in the slightest, and a new wave of panic surged through him – but it had been years since the last time.

Blaine tried to remember the coping mechanisms his therapist had taught him back then, but all he could come up with was "relax" and how was he supposed to do that? How was he supposed to relax when everything was falling apart? When he was being forced out of the closet, not to one person but to an entire school and whoever they felt like sharing it with. When he might once more be losing all his friends.

Blaine stared at his trembling hand, willing it to stop and making a fist of it when it wouldn't. As he felt the memories he had considered dead and buried press ever closer, he squeezed both fists tight around nothing as though he might physically be able to hold them back.

Losing his friends was the least of his worries.

It doesn't take long before Tyler lets go of Blaine's hand. He is trying to be casual about it, but Blaine senses his unease with the way people around them are starting to look at them.

'I love this song,' Blaine says without stopping to think, seeking mainly to break the sudden tension between the two of them. 'Wanna go dance?'

'Nah, let's go get drinks first. Over here.'

A little disappointed with his friend's hesitation, Blaine follows him across the room towards the drinks table.

'What are you two doing here?' a voice calls over the loud music as they approach the table, making them stop in their tracks. They spin around and find themselves faced with an angry-looking Shawn Woods, quarterback and Tyler's teammate.

'What's it look like, genius?' Blaine says, matching Shawn's anger.

Shawn's eyes travel across Blaine first and then Tyler standing a few steps behind Blaine. His lips curl into an unpleasant smile. 'Looks like a fag and his beard of a girlfriend.'

'Do you even know what a beard is?' Blaine asks, rolling his eyes and smiling in satisfaction when the other looks uncertain for a moment. Shawn's eyes narrow.

'I know that you should both know better than to show up here.'

Blaine simply shakes his head at the older boy before turning away and pulling Tyler with him as he starts towards the drinks table again.

'So you're here together, right?' Shawn calls after them, apparently not through being nuisance.

Blaine turns back, exasperated. 'What? What do you mean?'

'I mean one of you asked the other out tonight.'

'What's your point?'

Shawn feigns a casual shrug. 'It's Sadie Hawkins. Just wondering who asked who here.'

Blaine stares. Sadie Hawkins is the dance where the girls ask the boys. Blaine asked Tyler. No matter how casual and more of a suggestion than an I'm-formally-asking-you-out the agreement to go together was, Blaine was the one who did the asking. He has no desire to admit this out loud, however, knowing very well how it will be interpreted.

'It was you, wasn't it, Anderson?' Shawn says gleefully, and Blaine knows the sensible thing to do – which would end the conversation here – would be to deny or shrug it off, but he has frozen, unable to think of a response. Shawn laughs.

'Hey, I asked him, okay?' Tyler says, stepping up beside Blaine and looking straight at Shawn, all traces of his previous unease gone. 'So there. If you wanna call anyone a girl, it's me. But that's probably not nearly as much fun for you, is it?' Tyler regards Shawn, grimacing in distaste. 'Ignorant prick. Now why don't you leave us alone and go annoy your own date. Or let me guess, did no one ask you?'

'You are on very thin ice here, Simmons,' Shawn says, his voice low and dangerous. 'You know the team tolerates you because you happen to be good, but one word from me and the guys will-'

'What?' Tyler interrupts, his face the picture of mock interest. 'Pick on me some more? Come up with even more colorful names to call me? I can hardly wait.' He turns to Blaine and, in what Blaine suspects is a very deliberate gesture, he grabs Blaine's hand and begins to pull him back in the direction they came from. 'Come on, Blaine. Let's go dance.'

When Blaine's breathing and heart rate returned to normal, he found himself sitting on the floor by the front door, playing idly with the bow tie he had dropped there earlier. He didn't have much memory of getting there. Kurt had been at the house, hadn't he? It seemed so far away now, as if it had happened in a dream. Blaine stood up, his legs aching a bit from sitting in the same position for so long, and he peeked outside. Kurt seemed to have gone now. How long had it been? Blaine couldn't be sure, but he vaguely noted that darkness had fallen outside, so it must have been a while.

Yawning and mind heavy with exhaustion – too heavy to feel much more than a dull sense of dread – Blaine made his way up to his bedroom, thinking that a nap might do him good. Perhaps he would wake up in an hour or two with a new sense of hope. However, before he could even reach the bed, let alone lie down on it, the phone that had been left on the desk went off.

'Finally. There you are,' came Kurt's relieved voice the moment Blaine answered the call.

Meanwhile Blaine, far from mirroring Kurt's relief, felt tension creep into his muscles again, because talking to Kurt meant talking about that, and couldn't he just be allowed to forget for a little while? He sat down on the bed, his posture stiff and tense. Right now all he wanted was to sleep and dream of simpler times. To put off facing reality until he absolutely couldn't deny it anymore.

'I've been calling,' Kurt said, and Blaine realized that he had forgotten to respond to Kurt's greeting.

'Sorry. Didn't have my phone with me,' he mumbled, eyeing his soft pillow longingly.

'Blaine, are you okay?'

'I don't know what you want me to say to that, Kurt.'

'Yeah, okay. Dumb question.' Kurt sighed. 'This is such a mess.'

'I'm sorry for taking off earlier and leaving you with it,' Blaine said quietly, picking at a loose thread in his bed cover. 'That wasn't fair.'

'It's okay. I think you get off due to extreme circumstances. And for what it's worth, I didn't tell them anything.'

'Right.' Blaine almost commented that it wasn't like it mattered much, since the cat was well out of the bag now, but he did appreciate that Kurt hadn't simply spilled everything at the drop of a hat.

'I didn't think it was my place. And I didn't know what had even happened. What did happen? Do you know?'

Blaine smiled ruefully. 'Remember how I forgot my packer at school yesterday?'

'Oh my god, someone found it?' Kurt asked, horror apparent in his voice. 'But I thought you said the room was locked?'

'It usually is,' Blaine said, thinking back to the previous day and wishing he could go back and make himself pay better attention to his actions. 'But I was in such a hurry, I didn't stop to check, and he saw me as I was leaving. He must have caught the door before it shut.'

'Who? Who did this?'

'A guy off the football team. JT. Except I knew him as Jamie.'

'Wait, you knew him? Someone you know did this to you?'

'Yeah. We used to be best friends.' Blaine gave a short humorless laugh. Some friendship. 'I haven't seen him since his family moved away when I was eight. I didn't know they'd come here. I didn't even recognize him until he told me who he was. Can't say the same for him. I got the feeling he's been watching me for months, trying figure out why I seemed familiar to him.'

'That's really creepy.'

'Yeah, he's a charmer,' Blaine said, going for sarcasm but only managing a tired sort of sigh.

'Have you told your parents what happened?'

'They're not home. I tried calling Dad, but he's traveling or in a meeting or something, and Mom won't be home 'till late. For a change,' he added bitterly.

'What about Cooper?'

'No,' Blaine said blankly. 'He'd go nuts and jump on the first plane here.'

'Isn't that the point?' Kurt countered gently.

Blaine made a non-committal noise of assent. He didn't mention that part of him didn't want to make the call, because he was afraid that would make him fall apart completely, the way a small child's tears over a scraped knee only came when an adult paid attention to it.

Silence fell between them as neither seemed to know how to continue the conversation, but the simple sound of Kurt's breathing on the other end of the line somehow proved comforting to Blaine.

'I have to go,' Kurt said finally, regret in his voice. 'Carole's calling everyone to dinner.'

'Okay,' Blaine said, wishing he could make Kurt stay on the line. Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted, 'I'm really scared, Kurt.'

'I know, honey,' Kurt said, his voice tender and sad. It felt almost like a hug. 'I'm scared too, to be honest. But we'll get through this together, alright?'

Blaine murmured a vague agreement, before he bid Kurt goodbye and then finally sank into the bed, stifling a sob against his favorite pillow. Kurt might be scared, and Blaine thought he had every right to be – it was naive to think that only Blaine would suffer consequences from this – but he couldn't be scared the way Blaine was. He probably couldn't even understand Blaine's fear, because Blaine had never told him the details of his first out experience and the night that had so shaped him.

At midnight Blaine and Tyler tumble outside in the cold, both feeling happy and high after a successful night of fun, during which their run-in with Shawn was the worst thing that happened. Maybe the school really is starting to get over its issues.

Tyler's father hasn't arrived to pick them up yet, so they stand at the entrance, chatting happily and watching the crowd thin around them as they wait. After a few minutes they go back inside the school grounds to check the parking lot and make sure that Tyler's father isn't parked and waiting there, but it only contains a handful of cars, none of which belong to him, and within a few minutes, as the last few students claim their cars and speed off home, the place is completely devoid of cars. They hear distant giggling for a while, but then that too disappears. They are, it seems, entirely alone now.

'For fuck's sake, Dad.' Tyler gives an irritated sigh as he gets out his phone and brings it to his ear, calling his father. Ten seconds later he swears again. No answer.

Blaine looks around the dark school grounds, telling himself that the shiver that passes through him is entirely to do with the cold February wind. He follows Tyler around to the front of the school again, and they stand in silence for a few moments as they both stare up and down the street, but it appears deserted. Tyler tries his father's cell phone again, but there is still no answer.

'He's probably on his way,' Blaine suggests hopefully.

'Yeah, or he fell asleep in front of the TV again,' Tyler mutters.

They both look around at the sound of an approaching car, but one glance tells them that it isn't the one they are waiting for. The color is wrong and loud, youthful music is blaring out the rolled-down windows. The car slows down when it's level with Blaine and Tyler, and the two share a nervous look. A boy – too old to be in high school, but young; maybe college-aged – pokes his head out at the passenger seat.

'Hello boys, past your bedtime, isn't it?' he calls, slurring his words a little. Great. Drunk college students.

'Yeah, well. Sadie H-Hawkins dance,' Tyler says, pointing to the school behind them, apparently deciding that politely engaging the older boy is better than ignoring him.

'I see.' On the surface the guy sounds friendly enough, but Blaine thinks he picks up on a sinister undertone, and he instinctively takes a step closer to Tyler. The boy notices this. 'And you went...together?'

It isn't a question meant to be answered, and the next moment the boy turns away from them to address the car's other occupants. Blaine inches slowly away from the car at the curb, pulling at Tyler's sleeve as he does.

'Ty, let's just go,' he whispers, pretty sure that whatever they are talking about in the car, it's not about offering Blaine and Tyler a ride home. Blaine wonders if they should just run for it now, but then that almost seems like inviting trouble. Better to just stay and play nice until the guys get bored and continue on to the party they were probably headed for.

The next moment three guys, all physically imposing, exit the car and approach Blaine and Tyler who find themselves backing up a little.

'Had fun, boys?' one of the other guys asks – Blaine thinks he was the one at the steering wheel – and Blaine is pretty certain those words have never been spoken with so much menace.

'His dad is picking us up any minute,' Blaine blurts, because maybe that will make these guys think twice about causing trouble (and where is Tyler's father?) but then all three guys suddenly focus their attention on him, expressions changing from threatening to something like amused curiosity, and Blaine nearly clasps his hand in front of his mouth at the mistake.

'Oh, but wait, this one isn't a boy, is she?' the same guy continues, stepping closer to Blaine who swallows down the sudden fear that has risen inside him. Further back the two other guys are whispering to each other, and though Blaine can't make out the words, he can guess well enough.

'Yeah, I heard about this one,' the guy that first spoke to them says, stepping around his friend to get a better look at Blaine. 'My sister goes to school here. She's told me all about you.'

'Fucking freak,' the third one says.

The guy in front of Blaine is drawing closer still, and Blaine finds himself backing away until he collides with the wall that surrounds the school. Nowhere else to go.

'Hey guys, stop this,' Tyler speaks up, moving to stand between Blaine and his aggressor. 'You don't wanna-'

'Shut up, fag,' one of the others – Blaine can't remember who is who anymore – snarls, keeping Tyler back with a hand on his chest.

Blaine's pulse is racing, but he does his best to stand his ground and appear unfazed. His jaw tightens in determination as he looks up into the older boy's eyes.

'I'm not gonna apologize for who I am.'