He looked at the side mirror, at the tears brimming in his hazel eyes. But of course, another song about this. After sorting out the rhythm this would be the next song to truly hit home, for him to hum if he needed to release. He wiped his tears away roughly and wrote emotions and feelings hastily but neatly, vulnerably into his leather notebook.

There was a rasp on the door; shut, could it be any more obvious he wanted to forget the world? He suppressed a sigh and collected all his emotions, pushing them all back into a shell that was getting so awfully claustrophobic with all his feelings that he feared it would burst. He quickly grabbed his show face, his fa�ade from the depths of his mind. The "perfect son" stared back at him in the mirror, fake smiles and all. He hated how strained it was with his own mother.

He closed the book and placed it under the bed and opened the door,

"Hey mom!" He exclaimed - slightly too high and squeaky, he cursed himself - breathing out and tilting his head to the side as he lamely echoed cheer. His mum was very similar looking to Blaine, they both had curly brown hair, although hers was straightened today, and olive skin.

The biggest difference was the eyes, a striking blue that looked at Blaine with a slightly unfocused sparkle. Whereas Blaine's eyes, unfortunately, could easily be read, every emotion shining behind his hazel orbs, his mums eyes were guarded, not cold, but they had a certain stiffness. Most of the time they seemed unfocused, glazed, as if she was somewhere else. Not with her son, Blaine thought bitterly.

"Did I hear playing, sweet?" Hannah Anderson mum cooed, "You know I don't think you need that-"
"Yes, mom" Blaine's eyes flickered in annoyance to the portable piano, the shrine of his room, adorned with encouraging quotes written in Tipp-Ex ("you know now you can't return that when you realise there are better things" his mom would say). It was his baby, his footing when life stumbling, "What's the problem with me playing?"

A low sigh was caught in his mom's throat. Blaine could see it in her face as she swallowed it down, and instead breathed out to relax herself, a hint of mint travelling to Blaine's nose. Her face slipped into a smile. She walked into the room and sat at the piano, her fingers trailing aimlessly before giving up and stopping. She looked up and this time genuinely sighed at the posters of her son with his friends, tongues out and noses flared. Couldn't keep that sigh in, could she? Blaine noticed.

"It's just so-" She stumbled for words, "Individual, non-sociable. You want proper friends, proper hobbies to help you towards a job that provides well for yourself, find a nice girl and-"

"Mom!" She was cut off, "I want to perform!"

"Whatever" She shot back sharply. She shut her eyes tight and said hesitantly, "I just know…"

"Mom, please" Blaine cried, "You have no idea what they would of thought, you'd hardly spoken and-"

"An accountant! A doctor! Not this useless way of life…"

Blaine sunk into the bed. Why did every conversation turn to what Rebecca could have been? Did it not matter that Blaine was trying to be something?

Hannah coughed nervously, "Look…just, switch it off and do your work - okay honey? Dinner's nearly ready".

The door clicked shut slowly and there was a shuffling from downstairs. He growled angrily at the pictures of his "friends", at his mother, at everything and threw his head into the pillow, biting back tears.

He was scared, so scared he'd lose this release of music and soon he'd go crazy. That he'd come back and there would be nothing for him but a scholarship to a place he didn't want to go to.

His mom has randomly chosen a change of scene, as she usually does and had brought Blaine down to Lima, but still in dead-end Ohio.

Not the best for gays, whether they're out of the closet or not.

Another few years and maybe he'd be able to get out of here. He doubted it. He knew he had a future of successful jobs he hated and relationships he didn't want. He'd do anything for his mom, that was the problem.

Although for once, he was glad for his mothers bizarre attitude as it brought out his friends true colours and her quick "up and out" routine meant he didn't have to last too long with his homophobic friends.

He hadn't told them, hadn't really accepted it himself, until he realised he was leaving. He thought he'd have to tell them. The people that meant so much to him, when he couldn't tell his mum. Most turned against him and outed him to the entire school, a few were sympathetic, like his friends Wes and David, who he met at Music Camp over Summer (his mom reluctantly agreed) and Lola.

Lola was amazing. She was his age, his closest friend and the kindest person you'd ever meet underneath it all. She went at everything headstrong, which was why it was such a surprise when she came out to Blaine shortly after and burst into tears in the privacy of her home. No one knew she was a lesbian, but openly staying friends with Blaine was still bad enough to get pretty badly bullied.

He started coming back with bruises and harsh words ringing in his mind, from the people who used to be his friends.

They still stayed on his wall, showing his mother he was the perfect popular son like she wanted. They stood above his bed, taunting him. He was tired and knew his bullies were close to a serious physical attack, could see it in their eyes, and so was relieved to find his mom had bunked up the leaving date.

Lola's parents; kind, open-minded people were horrified by how Lola was treated and could see how Lola and Blaine leant on each other. They always put their daughter first, and seeing there was another position up in Lima, they had moved to a more homier house and a new job up there on the same street as Blaine. Blaine constantly told them how grateful he was.

He was lost in his own thoughts when his mom called him down for dinner, worrying about how the new school McKingley High would take to him joining.