Introducing Kurt Hummel

Ever since he was a child, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel's dreams had been big. Much bigger than little old Lima, Ohio. He had always hated Lima and it's bleak single story brownstone buildings and whitewashed inhabitants and its one shopping mall. He hated the way the parents looked at him as he danced at his kindergarten ballet recital in a tutu as pink as cotton candy. He hated when his teachers forced him play football, and basketball, and soccer with the other boys when all he wanted to do was help the girls coordinate their barbie's outfits. But Kurt was not an angry child. His mother would tell him, as they sat on lawn chairs over tea and biscuits eaten on a wobbly patio table, how he was destined for greatness. He was surrounded by people that didn't understand him because he had talent that was too much for ordinary people to handle. She told him about the songs she would sing to him when he was still in her belly, how he would move and dance to them as she rubbed it. She told him about how special he was, how unique, and how lucky a mother she was to have him. He could do anything, she said, as long as he always followed his heart and believed in his dreams. He loved her even more for that.

When she died, Lima felt more like a prison than it ever had. It was a place that swallowed happiness and stamped out hope. Kurt closed himself off in his room for days. He cried until his eyes and nose were red and raw. He missed school for a week. He barely ate. He thought about his mother and what she wanted for him and how everything seemed so impossibly far away.

Kurt's father had driven him to Columbus the summer following, to see Peter Pan. It was the first play he had ever seen. Being there was like visiting another world, one filled with culture and drama, of bustling city life. Of beautiful, well dressed people and glamorous buildings and music that thrummed with energy. The theater was lovely, all gilded with gold and draped with thick velvet curtains. The show was thrilling. He felt like the hero in a fairytale, whisked away from every trouble to come to a new land with new wonders for him to explore. When Tinkerbell burst back from the brink of death, urged on by the clapping of the audience, his father told him it was the first time he saw him smile since his mother had passed. He had almost flown off the seat for a standing ovation once the cast gathered on stage fort their final bow. Something magical had happened that Kurt couldn't explain, something that had filled him with joy and resolve. After that, he was insatiable. He quickly discovered that as wonderful as Columbus had seemed, it was like comparing a pebble to a boulder. He would spend hours poring over magazines and books about Chicago, London, San Francisco, New York. He knew one day he would be there, in a huge sparkling city to be part of that magic, to be a performer. That day had come as a senior in high school, when the McKinley High Glee Club had the gracious opportunity to compete in New York City. In one short hour he and his best friend, Rachel Berry, had come to the conclusion that, come hell or high water, they would be moving here after graduation, to make their home under the bright lights of Broadway.

It was wonderful. It took Kurt less than a month to acclimate, and once he reached that; there was no stopping Kurt Hummel. Attending NYADA was a journey of self-discovery for Kurt. His dreams changed. At first, he denied it. He had been so sure of his plans for so long, and the sudden change of heart seemed to come out of left field. It smacked him hard and it stung for a few days. The moment Kurt accepted it, though, it was like some huge weight was lifted off of his body.

Kurt had never considered teaching before. Sure, there was the old saying: those who can't, teach. Rachel teased him mercilessly about it. But if Kurt knew anything about himself, it was that he most definitely could, and Broadway dreams, however hard they were to tuck away, would always be there if he ever wanted them again. Teaching gave him pride and respect, something he lacked terribly for most of his young life. Most importantly, he was good at it. He knew how to talk to people, how to push them when they weren't giving him enough, knew when to withdraw so they could express themselves on their own. He was calm, charismatic, patient, relentless, encouraging, and above all, he loved his students. He fell into his first job as a Teacher's Assistant at NYADA with ease. A few years later, he landed a job at NYU as a full fledged professor. It was intimidating at first. The classes were big, much bigger than NYADA. But like Kurt always managed to do, he adapted.

After eight years of working at NYU, Kurt was visited by a representative from Foster's Academy, who offered him a job at their small, elite academy in the countryside, two hours outside the city. He thought it was a joke. He had been teaching for almost half of his life and never heard of such a school. He politely declined. The serious, petite woman they sent explained that he came highly recommended and the benefits of such a career would be many. She pressed him to at least consider it. What business did he have at some little school in the middle of nowhere? Why would he give up his position at a university like NYU for a position at a school he barely knew about? At her insistence, Kurt agreed to visit the campus. She left a pamphlet on his desk. He flipped through it. At the very least, it looked beautiful.

Beautiful was one way to put it. The moment Kurt stepped foot on campus, his tune immediately changed. Foster's Academy was truly like no other school. A quick tour of the lecture halls from the headmaster and a trip to the theater for an impromptu performance from the Fourth year students was all the convincing he needed.

Kurt was in love. There was something about this place that reminded him of home that he found strangely comforting. He never thought he would miss Lima, but sometimes being here had him feeling little bursts of nostalgia for his time in Glee Club.

By his second year of teaching, the school offered to move him into a small house a few miles away from the campus. Kurt accepted immediately.

On more than one occasion, Kurt found himself wondering what his life would have been like if he attended Foster's instead of McKinley as a teenager. Would he be any different? Better? Worse? Sometimes, Kurt envied what his students had. There was no shortage of brilliance here, the programs that the teachers run put any college in the city to shame. Every student here could sing better, dance better, and act better than the next.

There was one individual who stood out, though. One boy who wasn't even a student.

Blaine Anderson.

He was bright and so very talented. Kurt could tell how much he wanted to enroll even though Blaine never spoke a word about it. He could feel it rolling off of Blaine in waves. Kurt had caught that painful little look in Blaine's eyes last week. He had been waiting for Kurt right outside a classroom, watching the students spill out of the room, laughing and talking amongst themselves. It was heart breaking. Kurt couldn't bring himself to say anything.

But that afternoon, Kurt walked in on Blaine while he was singing. He was stunned. He knew Blaine had no professional training, yet he managed to play and sing beautifully. His talent was raw, unrefined. Not smoothed and tweaked from years of training, untouched by critique. It was bigger than his body. It was free.

Kurt was fully aware of the talent scouts that attended all the performances. He wanted Blaine to be successful and he wanted people to see everything Blaine was capable of.

Like hell Kurt was going to keep his mouth shut about Blaine's talent. The boy wanted that audition. He was very much aware of the regulations when it came to the school musical. It was reserved for students only and Blaine seemed to know that too. Kurt could only hope that there was a chance that he could help change the faculty's mind.

---

"Artie, can I talk to you for a second?"

The younger man looked up at Kurt, eyebrow rising in question. There was a classroom full of students in front of them, half of the kids staring curiously in their direction.

"Sure," Artie said after a moment, rolling away from his desk. Kurt walked ahead of him, holding the door open and shutting it once they were both out in the hall.

"You're directing the musical this year, right?" Kurt asked.

"That is correct," he said, crossing his arms, expression a little suspicious. "You can't audition, you know."

"I wasn't going to ask that," Kurt snapped, looking off to the side for a moment. So Kurt asked if he could audition last year and was shut down almost immediately. He just really missed theater and singing in front of an audience. Was that such a crime? His dreams had changed, but his love for performance had not.

"Then what is it?" Artie asked.

"The kid who works for Margaret. Blaine Anderson—"

"The groundskeeper's son? No way, dude. He's not even a student here."

"I know, I know," Kurt said in a hushed tone. "But he really wants to audition and he's really talented. He's been helping me grade papers and I heard him singing the other day and he's actually really good."

"Kurt, I can't just let him audition," Artie said, uncrossing his arms. "I mean, come on, he's a freaking janitor. Look, I trust you. If you say he's talented, he's talented, but Headmaster Newton would be so pissed if I let that happen. You know how exclusive these auditions are. Kids pass out and get eating disorders from how hard they practice just to get a chance to be part of this thing."

"What if I talk to him?" Kurt asked. "I'll talk to the headmaster. He likes me. He'll say yes."

Artie's eyebrows hiked as he stared at Kurt. After a few moments, he sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm only doing this because we've been friends forever."

Kurt clapped his hands together, nearly letting out a squeak of delight. "Thank you, Artie," he said, tossing his arms around his friend and stepping back. "I'll get back to you tomorrow!"

--

Kurt's confidence was a bluff. The part about Headmaster Newton liking Kurt was true. He was the one who had decided to have the academy pay for Kurt's stay at the cottage. So, yes, Kurt knew that the headmaster was fond of Kurt as a professor. He had expressed that he loved Kurt's teaching tactics and the students seemed to really like him, too.

Kurt's suggestion about allowing Blaine to audition was almost immediately shut down. Headmaster Newton wasn't as snappy as Artie had been. He was confused, actually. Kurt explained everything, leaving out the part about Blaine's attempt to sneak into his classroom.

With a bit of sweet-talking and promises on serving as an after school tutor on Saturdays, Kurt convinced the headmaster to allow Blaine one chance. Kurt thanked him about five times, peeking his head through the door one last time on his way out to say thank you one final time. Headmaster Newton laughed and waved Kurt away.

----

When Kurt pulled into the driveway in front of his house, Blaine was already waiting, sitting down by the front door. When he noticed Kurt's car, he looked up and stood, brushing off his jeans. As Kurt approached the door Blaine waved at him with a smile.

"Hey," Kurt greeted as he unlocked the door. "You know, you don't have to walk here," he said, pushing the door open, allowing Blaine to walk in first, "I can give you a ride. You're not my slave, Blaine."

The boy laughed. "Don't worry about it, I don't mind walking. I'm used to it."

"Nonsense," Kurt said, setting down his keys by the door and walking into the kitchen. "From now on, I'm giving you a ride whether you like it or not."

"But I—"

"Nope, not listening," Kurt cut off.

"Kurt—"

"Not listening," Kurt sang as he pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed a bottle of water for himself and tossed one to Blaine who barely caught it as he sighed, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile.

"I have good news for you, though," Kurt said as he twisted the cap off of the bottle and took a sip. Blaine stared, wide-eyed and expectant.

"Yeah?" the boy asked after a moment, sounding so very hopeful, youthful innocence bleeding through that single word.

"I talked to Headmaster Newton and he said you're welcome to audition for West Side Story," Kurt said, trying to keep himself from grinning proudly, but failing miserably.

"Really?" Blaine breathed. He looked like he was going to float away with pure joy.

"Kurt Hummel does not joke about such things," Kurt responded.

"Oh my god," Blaine muttered softly, looking away from Kurt touching his head in disbelief. He looked like he might faint.

"Don't pass out on me," Kurt warned, half joking.

"I'm—No, I'm fine." Blaine looked in Kurt's direction. "Sorry, but..." he paused, looking down at his feet for a moment and then back up, "Why are doing this for me?"

There were a few moments of silence between them and Kurt panicked briefly because he didn't have an answer to Blaine's question. Did he have a legitimate reason for trying so hard? It was at that moment that Kurt realized that he really went out of his way to get Blaine this audition. Talent. Of course. It was the talent that needed a chance to shine.

"Because I've seen way too many gifted kids throw away their chances because of reasons they thought were beyond their control," Kurt finally said. "I went to high school with so many kids who were bursting with talent, but were too afraid to do something with it because they were afraid of being ridiculed."

Nice save.

"Oh," Blaine said softly. After a moment, he nodded. "Thank you, Kurt. I mean it. Thank you so much. I don't think you realize how much this means to me." His eyes were bright and wide and so very honest. There was so much emotion in those huge, honey hazel eyes. Much more than anything Kurt had ever seen. It was beautiful.

"Oh, I think I have somewhat of an idea," Kurt said through a small smile. "We should get to work, though," he added with a nod. "That book shelf isn't going to build itself."

--

Kurt really should have been prepared for the tension and frustration that his little interference was going to cause. His excitement at securing Blaine the audition had almost masked the glares and downright malcontent he felt oozing from the eyes of students and faculty alike. The school was in an uproar.

"Professor, is it true?"

Kurt glanced up from his laptop. Standing on the other side of his desk was Quinn Fabray, on either side of her Santana and Brittany. Kurt always wondered if those two were more than friends. They held hands an awful lot and he could have sworn he saw them kiss in his classroom at least twice since the beginning of the semester.

"Is what true?" Kurt asked.

"Hello? That you're the reason that weird little grass cutter is auditioning for the musical this year," Santana whispered harshly.

"It's not fair, Professor Hummel," Quinn said. "We all worked very hard to get into this school. That kid doesn't even go here, he shouldn't be allowed."

"I think it's all a part of his evil plan to use his hobbit powers to take over the school," Brittany supplied.

"First of all," Kurt began, "He's not a hobbit. His name is Blaine. Second, you three are being really cruel. He works just as hard as you girls. Maybe not in the same way, but he does work hard and he deserves to audition. The headmaster approved it, so it's alright for him to do it."

"He's probably not even that good, anyway," Quinn remarked haughtily. "That's why he's not a student here, right?"

"Then I guess that means you have nothing to worry about," Kurt retorted. "If he has no talent, then he's no threat to everyone else."

"I used to think you were cool," Santana snapped as she narrowed her eyes at Kurt.

Kurt sighed and rubbed his temples. "Go back to your seats, we're not going to discuss this."

Quinn shook her head before turning and walking away, followed by Santana. Brittany lingered for a moment and whispered, "Don't tell Santana 'cause she'll get mad, but I believe in Mr. Hobbit. Tell him I'm rooting for him." Before Kurt could respond, she was bouncing away and plopping back down on her seat next to Santana.

--

"Are you nervous?"

Kurt stood next to Blaine near the door that led into the small theater. Blaine glanced over at Kurt and his wide eyes said everything. Kurt chuckled and touched Blaine's shoulder. "You'll be fine," he promised.

"I overheard people talking about me today," Blaine admitted, looking back towards the door.

Kurt's heart stuttered and broke a little. He was suddenly reminded of a smaller, younger version of himself. A mentally abused boy who forced himself to tune out all the mean things kids at school said about him. All the terrible names they would yell across the hall at him, the phantom bruises left by many a locker. "Ignore it," Kurt said immediately. "Don't listen to what they say."

The boy nodded silently in response.

Kurt reached out to grab his shoulder gently. "Blaine," he muttered. "Alright? Don't think about any of that stuff when you're up on that stage. Just like in the cottage, alright? Like it's just you and me and that old piano."

Blaine nodded again, but this time he looked up at Kurt and said. "Yeah. Okay."

The door opened and a young woman Kurt recognized as a new professor peeked out. "Blaine Anderson?" she asked.

Blaine walked through the door and Kurt felt the butterflies in his stomach ripping themselves apart.

The moment it slammed shut, Kurt hurried up the stairs to the second floor, where the balcony seats were situated. He arrived just as Artie asked what song Blaine would be singing.

Blaine blinked against the stage lights. It was so painfully obvious this was the first time the boy had set foot on any kind of stage. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" Blaine asked, raising a hand to shield the lights from his eyes.

"Just start," Artie sighed.

Blaine nodded, lowering his hand. He turned, walking up stage and briefly nodding to the band. The music started up and Kurt's heart clenched.

"Could be..."

Blaine turned and faced his small audience. From one moment to the next, there was a change in him. The nervous, small boy suddenly seemed much bigger.

"Who knows..."

Kurt could see his eyes shining bright against the lights. There was a tiny smile on his face. There it was.

"There's something due any day, I will know right away, soon as it shows..."

It was like there was this energy built up inside him that Blaine was finally releasing through his performance. It was intoxicating. Kurt was blown away by the sheer passion in which Blaine delivered. The last time he saw such feeling in a performance was with Rachel Berry.

Kurt's heart was stuttering and melting all at the same time.

Kurt glanced over at the judges. He watched them exchange looks before returning their attention to the ball of energy on stage.

"Something's coming I don't know what it is, but it is, gonna be great. With click, with a shock, phone'll jingle, door'll knock..."

Blaine held his arms out and raised his eyes up towards the ceiling with this tiny smirk on his face that made Kurt's stomach flip in a way that was awfully disconcerting. Because, what the hell? He felt giddy all of the sudden. Must be his nerves.

"Around the corner, or whistling down the river. Come on deliver to me..."

Blaine ran up stage, gracefully weaving through the band. Kurt couldn't help the tiny laugh that escaped him at the sight.

By the end of the performance, Kurt was smiling stupidly, gripping the railing as Blaine belted out the final note. It seemed so incredibly natural for him.

There was a burst of applause coming from the faculty who watched. Blaine bowed his head, laughing a bit, chest heaving just slightly. "Thank you," he said, a little short of breath.

"I so want to give you a standing ovation right now," Artie said, "and boy was I wrong about you. Why aren't you a student here again?"

"I—"

"That was rhetorical," Artie said, chuckling. "Wow, though. Wow, wow. That was incredible. We will..." Artie looked between the two women sitting on either side of him. They nodded briefly "...keep in touch," Artie finished.

Kurt's eyes flooded with pride. They had watched Blaine, his Blaine. They had loved him, as he knew they would. They were going to give him the part. They had to.

Blaine seemed to hover on the stage, beaming under the auditoriums glaring lights. He graciously nodded and exited the stage and Kurt could have sworn he could fly.

--

A few minutes later, Kurt found Blaine at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him. The moment they locked eyes, Kurt and Blaine burst into joyous laughter. And the moment Blaine was within reach, Kurt tugged the boy into a tight hug. It was at that instant that Kurt realized it was the first time they shared any kind of physical contact besides a simple handshake, or an accidental shoulder brush. It was over as quickly as it began.
"So," Blaine asked sheepishly, "I did alright?"
Kurt just laughed.

The butterflies in his stomach had been lying to him and it was only in that instant that he realized it. He wondered just how long his traitor brain had been duping him. All he was sure of was that what he was beginning to feel for Blaine was very, very dangerous.