13 years old
“She’s fit too.” Said the scrawny pale faced boy sitting beside Blaine, staring intently at the picture of a girl in a royal blue bikini. The rest of the boys nodded and gave noises of agreement as they continued to flick through the magazine full of celebrities that one of the boys had stolen off of their oblivious mother.
Except Blaine didn’t nod.
Because he didn’t think they were ‘fit’. As he watched countless pictures flying past him, set out on the vibrant pages of a magazine he had absolutely no interest for, he started to panic.
Why didn’t he agree with his friends? Why didn’t he find any of these girls hot?
Yes, he could tell when a girl was attractive, but he was never attracted to any of them.
Not like his circle of friends around him obviously were, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open as they stopped at a picture of a girl who had far too little clothes on for Blaine’s liking.
But that was just it. He didn’t enjoy looking at these pictures. Especially ones like that.
He turned away from the magazine and his friends, closing his eyes, willing to find the answer to his questions. He was terrified that there was something wrong with him. Terrified that he would never feel anything for anyone in his life. He did all he could to stop the single tear from escaping his eyes that were still tightly shut, but it wasn’t enough.
The glistening drop slowly dropped down his face, landing on the hand that was lying in his lap. He gave a small sniff and hastily wiped the remaining tear track away; hoping desperately that none of his friends had seen him crying. Boys didn’t cry. And his friends would surely hold it against him and tease him about it for ages.
“You okay, Blaine?” said Marcus. Blaine cursed to himself. They had noticed. Or at least Marcus had.
On the bright side, Marcus was the nicest one of the boys in his group, and was least likely to go on about it for days. So Blaine turned to him, plastering a wide grin on his face.
“Perfect!” He said, cheerily. Too cheerily. Marcus gave him a small smile, and his eyes settled on the page in front of him, but he was confused as to his friends’ strange behaviour.
Luckily, none of the other boys had noticed this exchange, too busy laughing at other people’s problems on the advice page.
Blaine turned back to the magazine, the same grin still set on his face. But inside he was still terrified of what his future would be if he was never attracted to anyone, if he never had a girlfriend. His friends would think he was a freak. Most of them had girlfriends now, and they were only 13. And Blaine had been told in detail what stuff they had done with them. He shuddered just at the thought.
But then the page was flicked again.
A man was grinning up at them, holding a child in his arms and looking like he was the happiest person alive. He had a mop of blonde curly hair that was thrown back in the wind. His eyes were the most piercing colour of blue Blaine had ever seen, and they were shining with joy.
And it hit him. Blaine found this man beautiful. He started intently at him, relishing in his warm glow that was casting out from the page. The boys had stopped there to look at the girl on the page beside it, so Blaine got time to take in the mans toned muscles, the way his shirt clung in all the right places, and especially his eyes. They were like orbs, seeming to sparkle in the sunlight. They were mesmerizing.
“He’s so pretty.” He whispered, his intense stare never leaving the man.
But he had said it too loudly. His friends had heard him.
Simultaneously, they all raised their heads to stare at Blaine, shocked at his sudden outburst. They all shared the same thought. Had their friend said he? Surely he meant she…?
But then they all followed Blaine’s gaze to the magazine page. It was not the page that had the picture of the woman on it.
It was the page that had the picture of a man on it.
It was Peter, a tall blonde haired boy that laughed first. He clutched at his stomach, no air reaching his lungs because of the hoots coming from his mouth.
And it wasn’t long before the other boys joined in. They were all collapsing on the floor, creasing up.
But Marcus just stared at Blaine, shock pouring through his wide eyes.
And it was when Blaine finally heard the laughing that he tore his gaze from the beautiful man on the page, and realised what he had said. And what he had done.
He gave Marcus a pleading look, eyes filling up with tears, hoping desperately that the boy could give him some reassurance that he had not said what he thought he’d said.
But Marcus just stared back at him, slowly shaking his head, eyes expressionless.
So Blaine ran out the house. He ran and ran and ran until he got far enough away from there as he could go without collapsing from the lack of oxygen reaching his lungs.
And only then did he slide down the wall he had stopped at, and let the sobs out.
He knew now that he was gay.
He also knew that nobody would ever look at him the same way again.

15 years old

Blaine gasped in pain as he collided heavily with the row of lockers. It was his arm that was hurt this time, but it was nothing new. He heard Peter and the other Jocks laughing hysterically as they walked away, but he kept his eyes closed and somehow managed to stay standing.
Since his so called ‘friends’ had outed him to the whole school 2 years earlier, only the day after he had came to the conclusion that he was gay, this bullying was a daily occurrence. He had appealed to the head of Dalton about it countless times, but 1. they couldn’t give a crap about the well being of meaningless students like Blaine and 2. there were ‘never any witnesses’ to the incidents, so they could do nothing about it.
Blaine had snorted when he had heard this. Of course there were witnesses, but no one in this rundown excuse of a school were brave enough, or cared enough, to speak out.
So it had continued. Blaine hadn’t had a single friend since his last ones had deserted him when they found out about his ‘problem’ as they had called it.
The only person he had actually told that he was gay was his mum a year before. It had got to the point where he was so lonely, so upset, that he just needed tell someone. And his mum had been there, and since then she had been completely supportive of him, telling him that it was okay to be gay, and that one day he would find someone that he could love, and be loved back.
But right now he wasn’t holding up much hope. He was the only person out at his school. Who would come out after seeing what was happening to Blaine? He didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t have came out by choice.
His father was another one of his problems. When he had told his mum, after reassuring him that everything was okay, she had suggested that they shouldn’t tell him dad. He made no attempt of disguising his disgust of homosexuals, and every time he made a crude comment about it, Blaine could only stand there, hating himself, and hating his father.
And that was his life right now. He did well in classes, always getting a higher mark than any of the other kids at his school. But really, that wasn’t saying much, since everyone came from schemes and schoolwork was the last thing on their minds. At 15, all they could think about was how to score their next joint or what shop they were going to steal from next.
Blaine was one of the few people here that didn’t take drugs, didn’t smoke, didn’t get into fights daily. The teachers didn’t care here. They taught them the bear minimum to pass their exams, and they knew that hardly anybody actually paid attention. They were past caring.
So as Blaine walked out of school, head down, trying not to draw attention to himself, he was thinking about hope. Or his lack of it. The only thing that kept Blaine going was his music. Without music, Blaine couldn’t even imagine where he’d be. And as he almost ran past the Jocks, the sound of their insults ringing in his ears, he softly sang to himself.

16 years old

Blaine stared helplessly at his Dad who was advancing towards him, face purple from rage.
“TELL ME IT’S NOT TRUE.” His Dad screamed in his face, just inches away from him. Blaine cowered back into the wall, wrapping his arms around his stomach in defeat. He stayed silent.
“TELL ME, BLAINE.” Understanding was slowly crossing his face, and this was the angriest Blaine had ever seen his father. And he was scared. Petrified, in fact. He hadn’t been this scared before in his life, not even the bullies had made him feel this terrified.
And that was when he felt the punch in the stomach, pain searing through him as he was hit over and over.
“NO! I WILL NOT HAVE A FUCKING FAGGOT FOR A SON!” He yelled.
Blaine vaguely heard his mother screaming at him to stop, to let Blaine go, but it meant nothing to him. His dad had somehow found out he was gay, and that was the end for Blaine. He had known what his father would do when he found out, he just wasn’t expecting it to happen until he told him years later, when maybe he could stand up for himself instead of cowering away in a corner as blow after blow was aimed at him.
All he could do was sob. Sob at the hopelessness he felt. His home life and school life would be unbearable now, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. So he took the blows, tears streaming down his face, shouting echoing in his ears. Not even music could help him now.

XXX

Kurt could only stare at Blaine, who was cowering in the corner of the store cupboard, tears streaming down his face.
“A year later my dad realised that everyone in school knew that I was gay. So he forced me to transfer here and now-” Blaine broke of, unable to speak through his tears.
But Kurt didn’t need Blaine to finish his sentence. He knew exactly what he was trying to say.
The bullying that had haunted him at his old school, the thing that had made his life a living hell for years now, had started again. At the place where he thought he could finally, finally get a normal life, it had returned.
Kurt realised that he had tears falling from his eyes, but he could think of only one thing to do, not caring about them as they fell onto his lap.
He moved towards Blaine, and held him in the exact same way that Blaine had held Kurt only fifteen minutes ago, but now they were both crying. He stroked the boys back softly, whispering to him.
“It’s okay, it will all be okay.” He rocked the him, as Blaine held onto him tightly, nuzzling roughly into his neck.
Neither of them knew each other that well, but they knew that they could trust each other. They had shared with one another their pasts, their worries, their fears. And as much as neither boy had expected it, they had bonded now. It didn’t matter if Blaine raised his walls again, blocking Kurt out. Because Kurt knew that somewhere, the emotional, beautiful boy in his arms was hiding deep within. And he would not give up on that, not if he could offer some comfort to Blaine. Maybe they could find hope in each other, but all they could do just now was cry. And, fifteen minutes later, when both boys quietened, they pulled away, and offered one another small smiles.
And that was when the door opened.