Chapter Two
Lightning Never Strikes the Same Place Twice

“Come on bro, it ain’t that bad!” Finn looked at Blaine confusedly – while he wasn’t exactly the most knowledgeable on hairstyles and trends, he didn’t see the problem with being bald. However, his disgruntled words were only met with more of a confused glare – and more stifled laughs being muffled by Kurts hand. Finally, after a few seconds of staring, confused looks and muffled laughter, Kurt brought his hand away from his mouth dramatically and looked to his boyfriend.

“Yeah, come on Blaine! Sure, I was surprised at first, but you know… I sorta like it now.” Kurt was sure that Blaine knew he was lying but after Finn’s breakup with Rachel he didn’t want his already pretty low self-confidence being diminished any further. He gave Blaine a sort of begging look, and Blaine snapped out of his stare into a huge grin.

“You know what Kurt? You’re right, and Finn, the new style looks great,” Blaine continued on, being fairly reassuring to Finn who was completely convinced that his brother’s boyfriend had suddenly turned a new leaf.

“Infact…” Blaine stepped over to Kurt, and offered him a hand, being met with a confused look. Blaine gave him a reassuring look, who then smiled and grabbed his hand enthusiastically. Their fingers entwined as they grinned at eachother, Blaine using all of his effort to drag his boyfriend to his feet. They both span on their heels and turned to Finn, who was still looking whole-heartedly confused at the whole romantic spectacle that was going on infront of him. Blaine looked at Kurt, being absorbed in his luscious, blue eyes that sat so perfectly on his face, like pools of water situated in a hot spring. Indeed, a very hot spring. He then turned back to look at Finn, his smile more vibrant and obvious than before.

“This reminds me a lot of a song Kurt used to sing to me, about my bad hair days,” he smiled, as Kurt gave him a knowing grin.

“And I think,” He then turned back to Kurt, gripping his hand tighter and smiling, his eyes sparking, “If Kurt would allow me – us, actually – I would like it if we could sing that song to you now.”

Finn smiled back at them both, a rare look of affection  being emitted from his pores – this was very unlike Finn, to be so emotional like this.

“Thanks guys… that would mean a lot.”

Finn sat back and relaxed on the couch as the two boys stood up infront fo him, their hands losing grip of eachother – their fingers slowly untangling from their native grip. Blaine walked over to his iPod – which was connected to a docking station, rather amusingly designed to look like a pink dog with the speaker in its nose – and flicked through the songs until he found his choice. As he pressed play, he span on his heels and smiled at his boyfriend, who returned his look with an incredibly cute grin. Kurt began with the main vocals, with Blaine supporting him – this being quite rare, just going to show the versatility they shared in their romance, even spreading to their musical numbers.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-oooh… Oh…
Ooo-ooo-ooo-oooh… Oh!

Whenever I’m dressed cool my parents put up a fight,
And if I’m hot shot, my mom will cut my hair at night-
In the mornin’ I’m short of my indentity…
I scream, “Mom and Dad, why can’t I be who I wanna be, wanna be?”

Finn leaned forwards, putting his elbows on his knees – he was clearly interested and enjoying it, which was surprising, considering it was a Gaga song, whom he had previously shown some distaste towards, especially in Glee club. Blaine and Kurt danced together around the room, Kurt sometimes running his hands through Blaine’s au-naturale hair, as if to show Finn that not everybody has the best hair in the world. With this, Blaine took over with lead vocals.

I just wanna be myself and I want you to love-
Me for who I am…
I just wanna be myself and I want you know-
That I am my hair!

I’ve had enough, this is my prayer!
That I’ll die livin’ just as free as my hair!
I’ve had enough, this is my prayer!
That I’ll die livin’ just as free as my hair!

The boys’ vocals and harmonies danced together as perfectly as they themselves danced together around the lounge, sometimes being butt-in by laughter and squeals of joy from either of them. All the while, Finn listened and watched intently with a grin on his face, sometimes stopping to laugh a bit at his brother and Blaine’s antics – all the while, all three of them were completely oblivious to the images on the screen behind them, of blue lightning bolts striking… again, and again. The image on the screen cut from place-to-place; it seemed to be happening everywhere in the globe! Lightning was striking near Big Ben, decimating the houses of parliament, the Capitol building was being slashed repeatedly, almost like meat being prepared for sale by a butcher. The most shocking image was that of the Golden Gate Bridge – or what was left of it, at least. The fluorescent blue bolts had ripped through the cords and pylons that kept the bridge together, causing the vehicles and heavy metal components of the bridge to tumble into the water hundreds of feet below.

Yet, the boys continued surreally, oblivious to what was happening on the screen behind them. It seemed totally incredible that they were spending their Saturday morning as if it were any other, as if the only oddity of the day’s events was Finn’s hair – or lack there-of.

Free as my hair-air-air-air-air,
Free as my hair-air-air-air-air…

Suddenly, the boys’ euphoric singing – and mood to go with it – was cut short by a loud crashing noise outside of the house, not too dissimilar to the sound of a bullwhip being flicked and licking the ground. They all froze on the spot, Finn suddenly jolting up and looking out of the window, his face turning from that of happiness to one more akin to fright or paranoia.

“What the hell was that, dude?”

Blaine held Kurts hand tightly, and ran over to the window with him. They stood next to Finn and stared out, trying to get an idea of what was causing such loud noises outside. Again, there was a crash – but this time, it was followed by another, and another, as if there was a percussion band marching its way through Lima. They looked out to the road and saw people staring at the sky, causing their eyebrows to raise in an almost canon synchronicity. They all wanted to speak, but they were too in awe of the sudden change of events – it was clear that Finn’s hair wasn’t the most important topic anymore, and the crashes carried with them a sense of fear that could be felt clinging to the very woven fibres and sinew of their clothing, gripping at them as if it was a new-born baby desperate for the attention of its mother.  Finn was the first to be shaken out of his trance like state, and regain the ability to move his jaw. Slowly, he began to utter hard, yet quiet words – yet all he could get out was a simple repeat. He had been reduced to a broken record.

“What the hell was that?”

When the two other boys didn’t answer, Finn tutted a bit – and, without thinking, he was moving towards the front door. He pulled it open and ran out into the road, to stare into the sky, to see for himself the very spectacle that the rest of Lima seemed to be swallowed into. He looked up, and was met with the most frightening and yet, peculiarly stunning sight he had ever seen in his life. It was almost as if the very fabric of the sky had been roughly torn apart, leaving only a hazy black-grey gap which was frequently lit up by jagged bolts of neon blue electricity, striking down into the town below. The strikes were becoming so frequent, infact, that it almost seemed as if a tower had been erected – a fluorescent blue, misconstrued and abstract tower which seemed more at home in one of New York or London’s many galleries but a tower none the less.

The grey pustules that seemed to swirl within the black void of the sky – almost clouds, if you will – reminded Finn much of an off-colour topping of a half-drunken cappuccino from the Lima Bean, in a funny sort of way. It was totally astounding, he thought, that during such a time of impending crisis that he was making comparison between an almost literal beast in the sky and something so simple as a product from a small café that served such a small mid-western town. Did the town really mean that much to him? Before he could ponder for much longer, his train of thought was interrupted by the front door opening with a much quieter click. He looked up, expecting to see Blaine, or even perhaps Kurt, but he was greeted by the sight of his mom, Carol. She looked at him, utterly bewildered by the whole events, apparently being interrupted during her own morning ritual by the loud banging. She ran out to him, and clutched onto his hand as if it was her lifeline. Finn looked back up to the spectacle above them, while his mom stared at him, grilling him with questions that he was almost unable to respond to.

“What’s going on Finn? Where’re the noises coming from? What about lightning on the news?”

Rather than uttering a barely audible response, he gently – well, as gently as possible considering the task – grabbed onto his mother’s jawline and slowly turned her head to face the sky. She starred up, her jaw dropping at the sight of the swirling, flashing hole in the heavens. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, a sign that she too had realised the full extremity of the mornings events; she had assumed, for a while, that the loud noises were simply road works on the streets outside. She hadn’t anticipated such things like this. She too was caught in a trance, and while she could speak – utter a reassuring sentence to her son, that it would be okay – she was able to grab his hand even more tightly.

“The lightning stopped, mom,” Carol looked to her son, a bit of bewilderment on her face, “The lightning, it stopped about half a minute ago.”

She then realised that they had been staring at the twisting anomaly, which looked ever so much less amazing and abstract without the constant interrupting flashes of blue electricity. She smiled at her son – a fake smile, an attempt to cover her worry and anxiety – and suggested they go back inside. When they reached the front door, they were met with the sight of Blaine and Kurt cuddling on the couch. Blaine was stroking Kurt’s hair slowly, uttering words of guidance and support slowly in through his ear. Kurt had his nose nuzzled into Blaine’s chest – apparently, he was quite upset. Carol looked at Blaine, her eyes longing for an explanation.

“The lightning,” Blaine said, as he indicated towards the TV, “it hit over thirty-seven times in the same place, Mrs. Hum- Carol.” Apparently in his shocked state he had regressed slightly in his usual manner in which he acted around Kurt’s stepmom.

“It… it hit McKinley thirty-six times.”