Blaine stared into the stranger's eyes for what felt like hours, before the eyes crinkled a little and a soft chuckle escaped the pair of lips underneath the eyes. Soft, luscious, pink lips. Blaine shook his head to clear the foggy state of his brain. The man in front of him was still looking at him with a smirk plastered onto his face. A pink tongue snaked out to wet his lips and Blaine's eyes couldn't let go of the sight of those lips. He tried to move, to maybe turn away or avert his eyes, but he couldn't, hypnotized by the wonders of the sea glass colored eyes. A pale hand with long, slender fingers trailed its way up his arm. The grin on the beautiful man's face turned into a smug smile. In a whoosh of air Blaine suddenly found himself pressed between the side of one of the tribunes and a slender body, the hot breath of the beautiful stranger ghosting over his ear as he whispered, "Come with us…" followed by a soft chuckle that Blaine could feel reverberating through his whole body. He repressed a shudder as the man lightly ran his tongue along the shell of Blaine's ear, repeating the three words every so often.

Now that he thought about it, Blaine never felt the lips, which were now slowly kissing their way down to his neck, moving. He could hear the voice inside his head, but never see or feel the lips moving. Strange. But Blaine didn't mind at that moment because–oh god– the stranger had found his clavicle and was now softly pressing kisses to it and sucking it lightly every now and then.

"Kurt! Back off."

Both men jumped at the sudden, harsh sound of a voice sounding trough the tent. The man, Kurt, hissed and turned around to face the man entering the big top.

"You back off, Puckerman. This one's mine."

Puckerman looked over to Blaine, examining him from head to toe. He nodded appreciatively.

"Well, at least you've got good taste. Now let him go. Ringy wants to see him."

Kurt turned back to Blaine, his face in a cute little pout.

"They never let me have my fun." He said while tracing Blaine's collarbone with his long, pale fingers. Blaine suppressed a moan and Kurt giggled coyly, then sighed.

"Fine. But when The Ringmaster's done with him, I want him back."

Blaine took the opportunity to take a look at Puckerman during the conversation. He was dressed in sort of baggy clothing, hiding a body that, as far as Blaine could see, looked pretty muscular. His haircut was particularly strange. His whole head was shaved within millimetres from his scalp, save for a strip of hair in the middle of his head. But the strangest thing was his face. As soon as he stepped into the light, Blaine could see a scar stretching from the corners of his mouth to his ears. It was like someone had tried to split his face in half and all but succeeded.

"Aw look what you did, you scared him."

Kurt looked into his eyes as he softly stroked Blaine's cheek.

Puckerman let out a humorless laugh.

"And I should care about this because?"

Kurt gave him an incredulous look.

"Look at it. It's a puppy. Would you scare a puppy, Puckerman?"

Puckerman smiled, but it came out looking like a gruesome grin. He couldn't smile anymore.

Kurt, seemingly unaffected by the man's face, rolled his eyes.

"Of course you would. Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Yes. The Ringmaster. With him."

He pointed at Blaine.

Kurt, who was still pressed up against Blaine, reluctantly got off of him.

"Quickly."

And without another word, he walked away, the slightest swing in his hips.

"Alright lover boy. If you could tear your eyes off of Hummel's ass, that would be pretty nice."

Blaine flushed bright red and muttered something under his breath.

"It's okay, you're not the first one and you will certainly not be the last."

Somehow that made Blaine feel a little empty, inside, the thought of Kurt doing all those things with other men, affecting other men the way he had Blaine.

Speaking of that, he suddenly was very grateful for the fact that his pants were a little on the loose side.

Puckerman brought him to the dark blue trailer and turned around without another word. He clapped him on the shoulder and walked off leaving Blaine behind alone and very confused.

Just as Blaine was contemplating turning back, even though he had no idea where he was, the door opened. Blaine looked inside but he didn't see how anyone could have opened the door. The trailer looked a lot bigger on the inside than it did on the outside.

'Come with us.'

Another voice, not Kurt's, was whispering this time. It was a voice that did not take no for an answer, one that demanded obedience.

So Blaine entered.

He stopped in the doorframe for a second, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness inside. He looked around, but the trailer was empty save for a table, a chair and a cupboard. There was no bed to be seen. Blaine frowned and just as he wondered who had spoken before the voice sounded again.

'Come with us.'

He couldn't tell where the sound came from, it was as if it came from inside his head. His eyes scanned the room but no one seemed to be there. One of the floorboards creaked and Blaine turned around swiftly, to see nothing but thin air. The confusion was etched on his face as he turned back around and almost bumped into the voluminous figure that was The Ringmaster. The Ringmaster grinned. It was strange, the grin never reaching his eyes and looking very intimidating. Blaine put his head in his neck and squinted his eyes to see the impressive figure towering above him.

"Blaine Anderson. What a pleasure to meet you."

Blaine didn't know what to say. His mouth fell open as if to say something but he quickly closed it again as he understood that no words were going to come out anyways. He was speechless. How did that man know his name?

"Oh I know a lot, Mr. Anderson. Things about you even you didn't know. I know your deepest, darkest secrets."

Blaine gulped visibly and his eyes darted around the room, looking for exits.

"Don't bother. The only entrance is the door, which is simultaneously the only exit."

Blaine could hear the smirk in his words and felt extremely uncomfortable. His hands were sweating and he wiped them off on his pants. The Ringmaster continued.

"There is no way back, Blaine, the only roads lead forward."

There was a small silence in which Blaine tried to process what The Ringmaster just said. Surely he could go back to his normal life in the dorms, finish his school and then…

"And then what, Blaine? Then you will get a job as a lawyer in some firm no one has ever heard of, business won't go well, you will start to drink, you will get lost in the labyrinth of life and there will be nobody to pull you out of the gutter. Is that what you want? I don't think so either. There is so much potential in you, Blaine."

He could feel the Ringmaster's eyes raking up and down his body and he could hear him muttering under his breath while Blaine just stood there a bit awkwardly. Suddenly he felt a strange kind of pressure inside his head. It was like someone was inside his head, digging through memories and thoughts.

'I know you want to, Blaine. It's a good place. No one taunts you, no one would even dare touch you when you're a part of the Circus.'

The voice sounded inside his head, and Blaine knew that the Ringmaster was in fact searching through his mind. Through gritted teeth he said

"Get. Out. Of. My. Head."

'I'm afraid I can't do that, little B.'

Blaine physically cringed at the use of the nickname his mother had given him. He hadn't heard it in over ten years.

'So as I said, the only roads from here lead forward. Decide before we leave again.'

The voice of the Ringmaster echoed in his head and it was weird, knowing that you could not think of anything without someone else knowing it.

He felt the pressure inside his head lessen and suddenly it was gone.

He was standing alone outside the trailer while the people were busy hurrying inside the Big Top. He started to think it was all a dream, that he had fallen asleep playing his guitar.

Blaine stood there for a while, people bumping into him, yelling at him, pushing him aside. But he didn't move.

For what felt like hours, people kept coming by until the last one of them was inside the Big Top. A soft drizzle of rain fell down on the lonely figure standing in the middle of the clearing, as a small strip of paper fell down slowly.

It landed at Blaine's feet, written side up and he looked at it in wonder.

'Think about it. You still have four days.'