One fact that Blaine Anderson knew that he was destined to be a doctor.
When he was younger, he imagined being a lawyer and fighting for gay rights, a subject that was very dear to him; but after a while, his plans changed.
Thanks to his father’s help, he got to spend some days in a hospital, where mentally broken people were accommodated temporarily or permanently, commonly known as an asylum. During the visit, Blaine always had an inexpressible alarm swirling through his body, his muscles, especially when the nurse took him to the High Secure Unit. It was quite scary, seeing the people wander around, in and out from the rooms, their eyes looking dead because of the sedatives they got. And when they wanted to leave the place, a dozen of people started following them, in hope of slipping out from the madness, or maybe slipping the madness outside.
Even though it scared Blaine a little, seeing how much the nurses cared for the patients, even at the Low Security parts – and Blaine’d heard many stories about these asylums, many of which were really scary; it didn’t actually stop him from considering it as a future job.
And now, here he was, sitting in front of the manager’s office, waiting and feeling as nervous as he never did. Minutes later, the door opened, and a nice, middle-aged woman stepped outside, smiling at the anxiously fiddling Blaine who stood up immediately.
“Blaine Anderson, I might assume,” she said, and opened the door a bit more. Blaine nodded, and walked in. After she closed the door, the woman turned to Blaine, holding out her hand. Blaine took it and shook hands for some seconds.
“My name is Maria Churchwille. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson,” she said.
“The pleasure is mine,” Blaine answered, and he cursed mentally when his voice came out quite unsure.
“Let’s sit down and talk about your job application,” she suggested, waving a hand towards her table and the chairs in front of it. Blaine took a seat, and waited for her to begin.
“So, you were right about that we were looking for somebody to fill in, as one of our workers left, but unfortunately, it’s been taken just a day after you applied for it, so we didn’t have the time to inform you. But your record is really promising, and we haven’t announced yet that we’ll have a place opening up for new workers, about a year later, and… I have to be honest with you: I want you to fill it. So I was thinking about compromising you in a way. What do you think about working in our library for that year? The salary would be just as much as you would’ve gotten.”
Blaine was taken aback by the informations Ms. Churchwille threw at him. But he was in need of a job, so he didn’t have much choice.
“And, because you’ve included some words about your sexual orientation, I must state that in this hospital we run by a zero bullying policy. In fact, we welcome workers from various types of sexual preferences and races.”
Blaine didn’t have much to think about, after hearing this.
“Where do I sign the papers?”
Ms. Churchwille smiled.

It wasn’t until a good week later that Blaine saw The Ghost.
His co-workers at the library tried to scare him off with a story about a ghost. Most surprisingly, this ghost came by daylight, put a book up onto a shelf (no matter where the book should’ve been put back), took a book and wandered out. He didn’t look like a ghost, to be honest, as one of the people confessed later: he had brown hair, which was quite untidy at times; his skin was really pale, and because he never spoke, he looked much like a walking porcelain doll; he had a night-robe on, much like a woman’s, but it looked exceptionally nice on him, mainly because he was nearly pathologically skinny; and he had beautiful eyes. Even though he never spoke a word, his eyes told just as much. They were strangely-coloured as well: the workers couldn’t decide whether it was blue, green, grey or any other colour. They were kind of a mixture.
He was said to be a patient of the hospital, and the librarians said that his name was Kurt. Even though Blaine’d never seen him at that moment, he thought Kurt looked gorgeous. He liked the sound of his name as well.
A week after his acceptance, Blaine was cleaning some shelves, because as a newcomer, it was his duty, much to Blaine’s anger. But he grew quite use to it, as he could see how magnificent the library’s collection was; he occasionally stopped his work, and read into some of the books.
Suddenly, the ladder he was standing-sitting on shook. Blaine gasped loudly, and grabbed onto the shelf, trying to focus on not falling down. After the shaking stopped, he looked down in fear.
And there he was, standing still, looking up to Blaine.
It was nothing like he ever imagined their first meeting. Yes, when looking at him, he might say that the boy or more like the man was a patient: his seemingly dead eyes told that. But Blaine could see that tiny little spark in those mesmerizing eyes, the proof of that he hasn’t lost his mind yet.
He was looking up at him, his gaze fixed on Blaine.
“Oh,” Blaine sighed, waking up from his thoughts. “You want a book, right?”
He nodded.
“Which one?” When he didn’t answer, Blaine continued. “Do you want me to take it down to you?”
He shook his head. Blaine stopped for a second, to think.
“Do you want me to come down, and let you grab it for yourself?”
He nodded again.
Blaine sighed, grabbed the cleaning towel, and descended the ladder. It took no more than three minutes for Kurt to find the book he was looking for. When he finally stood at the ground, right next to Blaine, he nodded slightly, and walked away. When he did so, a sudden rush of scent hit Blaine: it was something sweet, like a perfume, but Blaine couldn’t really figure out what it was. Yet he knew he’d never forget about it.
He turned around and looked after Kurt who was walking as gracefully as he’d never seen anybody in this hospital. He couldn’t stop himself staring at the skinny body.

“So, what have you heard about this Kurt?”
The question distracted the man sitting next to Blaine quite much.
“Why do you ask?” he replied with a question, turning slightly away from Blaine, as if he had something to check. Obviously, there was nothing near to him, but he still pretended, and that amused Blaine.
“Just… Curious, I guess.”
After a minute spent with uneasy silence, the man asked again.
“What do you want to know about him?”
Blaine asked immediately. “Why did he get in here?”
The man shrugged. “Not too sure about that. One might say he tried to commit suicide; there’re many speculations about him trying to kill several people at once; and there’s one little gossip that he came in on his own, to hide from the world. Nobody knows for sure, and that bastard Churchwille sure is not letting us to find it out.”
“B-But I thought Ms. Churchwille was a nice woman,” Blaine added, stuttering at his surprise.
“Wait until you wanna know more about your little ghost boy, she’ll make sure to lock those papers away. It’s not only because we want to know the juicy details… But, as we’re all taking care of the patients, this way or another, we need to know what we have to deal with, right? And exactly on this case, we’re not getting any single information, damn that bitch…”
“Anything I might need to know?” Blaine asked instead, before the other could go into any detail.
“Oh, yeah, there’s a thing,” the man said, after some minutes of thinking. “Apparently, he sings every night. He has a really adorable voice, a bit too high for a boy, but again, nobody knows for sure… He’s like a mystery to us.”
Blaine asked for a night duty that night. All he needed to do was walking around the corridors, watching out for possibly sneaking out patients, but as everyone was sedated he didn’t have much to do. Around midnight, he heard a window opening up, and a second later, his mind was blown by a heavenly sound.
He couldn’t really place it, that voice. It was nothing like he’d ever heard, but weirdly it sounded so familiar to him, just he couldn’t name where he heard that song.
And calling this voice adorable was quite an understatement. It was beautiful, amazing, perfect, and even sexual; Blaine could only compare it to an angel’s voice, not like he’d ever heard one, but he was just so sure about that. He sat down, right where he stood at the corridor, and stared outside the window, hoping that only with this much, he could reach out to the singer, and tell him that he’s here, listening to his performance.

Blaine Anderson didn’t even realize that he fell in love with that ghost called Kurt, even though he hardly knew anything about him.