"Glee Club, put your hands together for Blaine Anderson, our new member!" Mr. Schu began clapping as the rest of us sat motionlessly in our seats, waiting to see how many piercings this boy had, how big his muscles were, how many tattoos covered his skin. I'm not normally one to make assumptions about a person, judge a book by its cover, but I have heard a lot about this mystery man, and what I have heard, isn't exactly...good.

A smaller boy walked into the choir room. He had on a leather jacket with a white t-shirt hidden beneath it, which seemed to be hugging his body just right. There was absolutely nothing to complain about there. He didn't have a large torso and he didn't look all that muscular from what I could see where his jacket had slid down his shoulder. After noticing the clothes that covered his upper body, my eyes began to trail down further. I noticed how tight his jeans appeared to be, they weren't exactly what you would call loose, but they were no where near as tight as my pants are. They were cuffed at the bottom, showing his ankles slightly before his black boots cut off the strip of skin. No piercings. No noticeable tattoos. So at least, he had a reasonable fashion sense for a resident bad boy. If your going to play the part, you might as well dress it as well.

I realized that I had been staring at the bo-Blaine's, clothes for so long that I had failed to see his eyes.

His eyes.

They should have their own color name because there was no way to describe them in words. They were a mixture of honey and amber but they had a sparkle in them, that for a moment, made him look slightly less intimidating, like he was just as gentle as the rest of us, well, not Puckerman...or Santana, well, as most of us at least. His hair though. That was where the problems began.

There was way, way, too much gel. It looked like he had plastered a helmet to his head. You could tell that he naturally had curls because one had fallen out and was resting gently on his tanned forehead. I'm pretty sure, that unlike most guys who try, he could pull of the curly hair look.

The more that I look at him, the more afraid he looks. Maybe not afraid, but    uncomfortable. His eyes keep darting around the room, not staying on one person for longer than two seconds, three at the most. He could also just be trying to sum everyone up, find his first target maybe.

At this point, Blaine Anderson is one huge question mark. A very short, yet intimidating question mark.

"Blaine, go ahead and take your seat," Mr. Schu looked around the room, "there is one up there next to Kurt."

I snapped out of my thought bubble long enough to hear my name and notice Blaine coming up the few stairs leading to the top row of chairs, the row that I just happened to be sitting in.

I felt Mercedes tap my shoulder, "Don't look so worried, he won't do anything in here, though...nevermind."

Her words that should have made me feel better, only gave me a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. The thing that was truly unnerving me though, wasn't the fact that he was fresh out of juvie, but rather that he was undeniably attractive, and male, and was about to come and sit next to me.

I knew the moment that he sat down and I felt his eyes digging daggers into my flesh, that what I wasn't feeling was wrong. There was no way that he was like me. One look at him screamed, "Ladies' Man, Come Fuck Me!"

Once again, Mercede's must have noticed my lingering stares directed towards Blaine, "Boo, I don't mean to crush your dreams or whatever, but is it not completely obvious that he is straight?"

I turned to face her, "I know. He is. It's obvious, yes. But I can look can't I? What's the harm in that?"

"Whats the harm in th-Kurt Hummel, are you serious? He is just like Karofsky, he's one of the guys that is going to body check you in lockers just because he knows your gay, or because you're an easy target, sorry, but, seriously Kurt. He's gonna do that no matter what, nearly guaranteed. The way that he looked at you, it was creepy, like he was plotting his attack. Dammit. I'm scaring you. But be careful because if he catches you staring at him, he might make everything he does worse, he'll find out pretty quickly that you like him. So, wipe that lovesick puppy dog look off your face and help us all pick songs to sing for Sectionals."

Mercedes was right yet again. He was going to make my life a living hell. I thought that I had escaped afer Karofsky transferred, but I was horribly mistaken. This year, wasn't going to be a walk in Central Park. Not with Blaine Anderson around.