Blaine looked sadly out the window as he watched a young man, probably in his early 20s, walking with who Blaine presumed was his son on the side of the road. The child was talking animatedly and the father was nodding and smiling fondly at the boy. Blaine felt a strange feeling shift in his stomach, and he realised, it wasnt sexual (though this young man was beautiful), it was jealousy. This man probably had a beautiful wife at home making his lunch. They wouldnt be glared at angrily in the street for showing their love publicly, or told daily that what they felt was wrong. Unlike Blaine. He had been turned down again yesterday. The simple coffee shop had been telling him how everything was looking promising, and he would almost definitely be hired as a musician for the shop, until the manager had looked at Blaines old Facebook (apparently it was a precaution these days, to check the people they were hiring werent horrible haters or members of offensive groups), that he had stopped using when he was about 16, because of all the abuse he had received, and he must have seen that Blaine was gay from all the insults the jocks had posted on his wall. The manager had tried to blame it on his voice didnt quite fit the setting of the cafe, or the shop didnt have enough money to pay a new member of staff. Bullshit. Just prejadism.