3.

He cried himself to sleep again that night, admitting one last time how deeply in love he was with that boy and how he could never let him come too close to him. The pain was driving him to places that he’d never thought he’d go. He hated his body so much he just wanted to crawl out of it and leave it behind, free himself from that freakish mutation he had to deal with. That’s what he called it to himself, even if his dad had worked all his childhood trying to make him feel normal. Taking him to doctors who were specialized and knew how to deal with this, speaking with psychologists to find out the best ways to make Kurt content. All of that secured him a happy childhood and even junior high was not bothersome for Kurt. But soon after that when everyone hit puberty and Kurt realized he was gay things became difficult. Of course he started researching and soon found out that no gay man would ever be interested in him, that he didn’t have the right tools to be who felt like he wanted to be inside.

All of that was something he knew he’d had to deal with in the future. But since he was already struggling with being the only out gay boy in Lima the thought always laid pushed away at the back of his mind.

But all of that did not make a difference anymore. Blaine didn’t make a difference anymore. He reckoned that he was just the first in a long line of disappointments and rejections. A stupid move in his teenage years when he didn’t think better and couldn’t control his feelings properly. But all of that would change now. He made even more of an effort of not looking at himself in the mirror, only ever clinically touching himself “down there” and just doing his best of ignoring the fact that he had a body.

He soon couldn’t stand being in the New Directions anymore. As annoying as they may have been they still noticed that Kurt had gone awfully quiet since he had returned and seemed unhappy. Every week in glee club they tried to comfort him and wanted find out what had happened at Dalton. One day he couldn’t take it anymore. He walked into Mr. Schue’s office and told him that he would quit. He claimed to have a heavy workload and that he intended to take on even more to get extracurriculars in order to get into NYADA.

Mr. Schue was surprised and quite shaken. “I’m really sad that we’re going to lose you Kurt. You and your voice have been such a vital part of our group. I know I can’t stop you but, just know that you will always have a place to go when you need us.” Kurt nodded coldly at that, judging Mr. Schue for not being able to control his emotions better like he was learning to do.

He did start taking on more work then, rarely leaving his desk. Blaine had stopped texting him after that night at the theater. As a matter of fact, they hadn’t heard anything from each other for half a year now and Kurt was starting to forget him.

Surely, he still had those nights when he tried to fall asleep and caught himself dreaming of beautiful strong hands and arms pulling him close and holding him. He always knew that it was Blaine’s hands he was imagining even if he didn’t like to admit it to himself. He felt ashamed for those weak moments, as he called them and punished himself with more work for the next day everytime he did it.

At the end of his senior year his grades were so good, that he graduated at the top of his class and was asked to give a speech. He felt like he deserved it, after all those months of work while everyone was dating and going out or occupying there time with inferior nonsense. He nodded to his former glee club friends when he walked by them feeling completely estranged from them after that long year.

Burt was insanely proud of his son, especially since he managed to get into NYADA easily. But sometimes he worried about Kurt. He had stopped seeing his friends and he didn’t constantly hum or sing under his breath anymore. He had lost some weight and his skin had become a little paler. But everytime he asked him about it, Kurt just shook his head and promised him that everything was perfectly alright and that he was achieving his dreams.

He left Lima soon after that and arrived in New York feeling happy for a short time like he hadn’t in so long. But it wasn’t the overwhelming happiness that he had felt when they won Sectionals or when Blaine and him had been flipping through Vogue criticizing the styles and he noticed how Blaine tried to stay as close to him as possible. It wasn’t the happiness that made him grin like an idiot until his cheeks hurt and that made his stomach flip.

It shocked him for a moment when he was standing on Times Square with his suitcase, how he had apparently killed the ability of feeling anything at all. He was proud of himself for having made it. He had worked hard and was now exactly where he had always wanted to be. It was an achievement. But it didn’t feel like much more. “I’m smart and successful” he told himself “and I showed them all. I won.”