Kurt's life so far has been a series of two steps forward, ten steps back. He really should be used to it by now.

But Kurt is almost seventeen years old and he can count only three truly good things that have ever happened in his life:

He met Blaine.

He remembers a good childhood with both his mom and his dad.

His dad remarried a sweet woman and they have a bigger family in Carole, Finn, Blaine, and Xena.

Unfortunately, his shit list is much longer and is topped with "mom died" and "Karofsky happened." He doesn't let himself elaborate because then he'll wind up sobbing in his closet and scaring the shit out of Blaine again. Blaine doesn't need his brand of crazy ever.

It's with a heavy heart and sense of foreboding that Kurt even lets himself consider Junior Prom. His preference to ignore the whole stupid tradition and stay in his room all weekend with the dog is ruined when Mr. Schue bursts into the choir room, beaming and announcing that the New Directions are taking over the music for prom. Blaine looks bored but Rachel gets this manic look in her eye and keeps glancing at Finn during Mr. Schue's speech. Finn's back with Quinn, weirdly enough, but Rachel hasn't given up yet and Kurt's so over that love triangle. Blaine just laughs when Kurt tries to explain them.

"This is perfect!" Rachel exclaims, jumping to her feet. "Now, I can handle the setlist; be prepared for your assignments by the end of the week—"

"Shut up, Rachel," Santana rolls her eyes before Rachel gets worked up.

"—And there will be plenty of time to dance with your partners!" Mr. Schue adds and Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Cause that's gonna go over great with this school," he mutters, earning a look from Blaine.

"You don't want to sing?" Mercedes whispered from his other side while Rachel rambles. Kurt shook his head, thinking about all those eyes just staring at him. And the whispers, and the pity, just piling on him, like before. He crosses his arms and hunches his shoulders. "Yeah, me either," Mercedes says sadly. Kurt and Rachel stare at her, but she doesn't continue. Mercedes Jones never turns down the spotlight. Even Sam and Puck look confused.

"Oh Lord, why not?" Santana drawls from the back, where she's playing with Brittany's hair.

Mercedes studies her feet. "I don't have a date." She says it quietly. As if Kurt didn't feel enough like shit, those resigned words take the cake. He's been an awful friend; he hasn't known what was going on with her for months. Too caught up in Blaine and Karofsky to bother.

As if on cue, Blaine slides an arm around his waist and tugs Kurt to his side. And damn, that was a look of jealousy from Mercedes.

"Just go ask some guy," Santana waved dismissively. "This isn't a crisis situation, Aretha."

Kurt can feel Blaine grin next to him, obviously anticipating a fight. Sure enough, Mercedes bristles.

"Yeah? You going with Blondie or some roided-up jock you coerced into running for Prom King with you?" she snaps, twisting in her seat to glare at a furious Santana. Tina barely hides a snicker, but Puck laughs outright and there goes any chance of this not turning violent. Kurt sighs against Blaine.

Quinn cuts off Santana's retort with an offended gasp. "You're running against me for Prom Queen?!" She says angrily, also glaring at Santana.

"Stop the violence," Brittany says, but no one listens to her because Quinn looks ready to jump over the chairs and rip off Santana's hair with her bare hands.

"This was news?" Blaine interjects, amused. "She's taking Stephens. The posters are all over school, sweetheart. Got your work cut out for you now." He cackles cruelly and Quinn's glare shifts like she's not sure if she should murder Blaine or Santana first.

"Dude, lay off my girlfriend," Finn shoves at Blaine's shoulder and Kurt can just see Blaine considering the best way to break Finn's arm.

"Oh, so it's Quinn this week, is it?" Blaine says sarcastically and Kurt almost drops his head in his hands out of mortification. "'Cause only I remember last night a certain someone complaining very loudly—"

"Blaine, knock it off!" Kurt finally stops him with an elbow to his side, seeing Rachel's eager look at any mention of tension between the golden couple.

"I don't have to listen to this," Mercedes growls and storms out of the room before Quinn actually tries to kill Santana. Kurt gets up to talk to her and try to fix their mess of a friendship, but Blaine holds him back and gives him a slight shake of his head. And Sam goes after her. Kurt's eyes widen but Blaine's already turning back to the fight.

Santana starts screaming in Spanish and both Puck and Mike hold her back. Finn has Quinn in a bear hug but she doesn't stop trying to claw Santana's face off while Tina and Lauren watch. Lauren even has popcorn.

Mr. Schue just watches. Per usual.

"So what are you wearing to prom?" Blaine asks and falls on Kurt's bed later. Xena jumps up after him and Blaine scratches her belly with a grin. "C'mon, Kurt. You love clothes; what crazy outfit do you have planned?"

"I'm not going."

Blaine doesn't answer for a long moment and Kurt resolutely stares at the bottles of moisturizer on his vanity.

"You're not?" Blaine finally asks, his voice dripping with suspicion.

"Nope."

They're quiet for a while and Kurt starts to fidget under Blaine's narrowed gaze. It's not really any of Blaine's business; he can go do whatever he wants. Kurt's just not setting foot in that that gym with his nosy classmates.

"You wanna elaborate?" Blaine says through clenched teeth.

Kurt shakes his head and tries not to think about the half-finished kilt stashed deep inside his closet from early that year. A more innocent, hopeful Kurt had designed that outfit. Not this one. Kurt abruptly shakes himself out of his reminiscing when his phone buzzes on the dresser. Crossing the room, Kurt ignores Blaine's demanding stare and grabs his phone, desperate for an out from this conversation.

"I have to help Sam out with his tux," Kurt mutters after scanning the text. Not exactly the best distraction, but it will keep Blaine away. Speaking of— "You're going to be late to the Lima Bean." Kurt says with a pointed look. Blaine glances at his watch and swears under his breath, jumping to his feet and darting out the door. Kurt follows, grabbing his keys on the way.

At the bottom of the stairs, Blaine waits for Kurt. "Can you drop me off?" he asks sheepishly, as if Kurt was going to do anything else.

"Get in the car, Blaine," Kurt cracks a smile, but it feels forced.

The ride is quiet and tense, and Kurt just knows this conversation is not over, as Blaine helpfully points out before jumping out of the car with his guitar in the coffee shop's parking lot.

"I mean it, Hummel," Blaine frowns through the open window. "I'm coming over after and we're gonna talk about this."

"We're really not," Kurt replies. "Because there's nothing to discuss." He raises an eyebrow and Blaine growls, but he still pulls Kurt in for a quick kiss and then runs inside to make his 5 pm start time. Sighing, Kurt shifts the car into reverse and pulls out, heading towards Sam's motel.

Being with Sam is nearly as frustrating as being near Blaine, Kurt finds out after the third time Sam shifts and makes Kurt stab himself with a needle.

"Sam, I love you, but hold still," Kurt growls around the needles in his mouth and tugs the tuxedo pants Sam has on straight. Altering the twenty-dollar suit Sam picked up from Goodwill had to be the worst idea he's ever had. Behind him, Stacy leans over his shoulder to see what he's doing and Kurt has to be careful to not elbow her.

"Sorry," Sam says sheepishly, but he manages to not fidget long enough for Kurt to get the hem pinned.

"Drop them," Kurt sighs, leaning back and colliding with Stacy. "Sweetie, you've got to move if you don't want me to prick myself, alright?" Kurt says patiently while trying not to cry from the needle that poked his lip. Stacy pouts, but thankfully takes a giant step backwards towards her other brother, who is engrossed with his Pok�mon Gameboy game again. Sam hands him the pants and sits on the bed, completely at ease in his Star Trek boxers. It's a strange picture with the dress shirt and suit jacket and the bright blue socks. He watches Kurt attempt to sew the hem straight without a sewing machine.

It's a purposeful stare, and Kurt has a feeling there is going to be a Conversation about Glee, so he mentally prepares himself.

"So, you're not going to prom, huh?" Sam says, far too casually to be coincidental. He grins nervously under Kurt's glare.

"Show me your phone," Kurt snarls and Sam instantly opens it to a text message from Blaine ordering Sam to find out what was going on with Kurt. "You two are far too invested with my life," Kurt rolls his eyes and goes back to stitching.

Seriously, though, he just doesn't want to go. Why does there have to be a larger reason?

"He's you're boyfriend; I'm his best friend; and you've seen my kid sister and brother in makeup," Sam says matter-of-factly, ignoring Stevie's insulted "Hey!" and shrugging. His face drops into seriousness. "But honestly, Kurt, we're just sort of worried about you. You're not doing as well as everyone thinks, right?"

Kurt doesn't answer, but stabs the pants a little harder than necessary and keeps his eyes down.

"Kurrrrrrrt…" Sam tries to get his attention. After failing, he sighs. "Stacy, poke Kurt until he answers me."

"He has needles, no way," she replies from her new perch next to her brother.

She's his favorite, Kurt decides.

"You know we'll protect you, right?" Sam says softly. "Me and Blaine and the rest of the Glee Club. We won't let anything happen."

Kurt's eyes start stinging. This is so unfair, they can't just say things like that; not when they don't mean it. He rubs his face and sniffs, redoubling his efforts to hem the damn pants and not look at Sam.

"No, really, Santana was talking about starting an anti-bullying program in school and getting Stephens to join her."

Kurt whips up his head at that. An anti-bullying program? Seriously? Then a cold thought hits him.

"She's doing this to get votes, isn't she?" Kurt rolls his eyes at Sam's guilty wince. "Figures, it's not like bullying is a real issue or anything; not like beating Quinn for Prom Queen is," Kurt mutters to himself.

"Okay, yeah, she's probably doing this for really selfish reasons," Sam admits. "But if the result is the same, does it really, like, matter?"

"So you'll take charity, right Sam?" Kurt raises an eyebrow, trying to hide the sudden anger surging through him. "Long as you have money for food and clothes; who cares if you get it from handouts, right?" He says it harshly and for a second, Kurt means it. Who is Sam to lecture him? He's never known. He's never been bullied; he's a hot, blond football player with the perfect girlfriend for a while. He has no right. Sam recoils as if slapped and shit. Stacey stares at Kurt with wide, betrayed eyes and even Stevie looks up from his game in the resulting silence. Kurt groans and drops his head into his hands, tugging at his hair harshly. "That was uncalled for," he mutters.

"Yeah," Sam's voice sounds hollow and hurt.

"I'm sorry."

He feels even more like shit when Stacey runs and hides her face in Sam's chest.

"I'm just gonna—" Kurt swallows hard. "I'll finish this at home." He weakly holds up Sam's trousers and stands, hastily shoving his things in his bad.

"I think that's best," Sam says. He squeezes his sister and watches Kurt leave with a carefully blank face.

Every time Kurt sees another Prom King and Queen poster, he wants to alternately throw up or tear the damn thing down. It doesn't help when, true to Sam's word, Santana pulls off the Bully Whips with Stephens. She even gets these stupid hats and matching jackets; like she thinks wearing bright red and attracting even more attention to him is going to help.

When she announces that "Teen Gay" is cleared to move to second period, Kurt walks away as fast as possible. He also makes Blaine run interference for the rest of the day, resulting in a tongue lashing during Glee about ruining Santana's campaign.

Kurt can't make himself care all that much.

He finishes Sam's suit and helps his girls find perfect dresses and somehow through the daze notices the shy looks Mercedes and Sam keep exchanging. And then Jesse shows up again and Rachel falls in love with him again despite past betrayals and then Finn gets jealous again and Mr. Schue makes it mandatory to sing at Prom and Kurt is just. Done.

He dodges Blaine as best he can, but then Rachel drags him to the mall in a last minute panic and Kurt cannot believe that this is his life.

"No." He states flatly when Rachel walks out of the dressing room with a bright pink, ruffle-y disaster on her body.

She sputters and looks down at her dress. "But why?" She practically whines. "I feel gorgeous! Like—like a princess!" She hugs the dress defensively.

"You look like the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man and a neon tutu had a bastard child."

"Ok, now that's just rude," Rachel glares and put her hands on her hips, which just makes the dress puff up even more. It would be hilarious if it wasn't so sad-looking.

Kurt leans back in the uncomfortable dressing room chairs and squeezes his eyes shut. "You're the one that wanted a gay best friend, right?" Kurt grits out. "What's the point if you don't even listen to him for fashion advice?" He feels more than hears Rachel gather up the miles of fabric on her waist and attempt to sit down in the seat next to him.

"Stupid dress," Rachel mutters, making Kurt crack a smile and open an eye. She looks at him miserably. "You know that's not why you're my friend, right?" she says quietly, and Kurt shifts to face her head-on.

She huffs out a small laugh. "You're…a good person. You make me want to be better, you know? And you're my only real competition; when you try, I mean."

"Damn right," Kurt interrupts, earning a giggle and a mock glare.

"And even though you never stop insulting my clothes, you're my friend. Not because you're some fashion accessory gay that every girl needs when she gets to New York," Rachel beams. "But because you're Kurt Hummel." She says with finality. "And Kurt Hummel tells me the truth."

Kurt laughs and tries not to cry, but pulls Rachel in for a tight hug. "Thank you," he says into her shoulder, getting a mouthful of ruffles for his trouble.

Rachel laughs and pushes him away. "So, marshmallows and tutus, huh?" she says weakly, tugging a ruffle into place.

"Absolutely," Kurt agrees and shoves her back into the dressing room. "I'll allow you keep pink if you let me keep it on the right side of blinding, alright?"

Pouting, Rachel goes quietly, but she stops Kurt with a hand around his wrist. "You know, you can come to the dance too," she says quietly, fixing him into place with determined eyes. "We all want you there. You're our friend."

Kurt shakes his head. "Yeah," he admits. "But there's too many that don't." Before Rachel can object, Kurt closes the dressing room door. "Change out of that abomination and let's find you a dress that will make Jesse regret the egg thing."

Rachel grumbles, but drops the subject. On the other side of the door, Kurt tries to ignore the small, hopeful voice in the back of his mind that whispers that Rachel might be right; maybe he could go to Prom and everything will be alright.

The voice is stupid, though, and Kurt steels himself against it. He's going to get Rachel to look like a human being and then he's done with this prom crap. He'll find a way around Mr. Schue because this is it. He's done.

The day of prom, Kurt stares at his closet and wishes it could swallow him whole.

"You wouldn't make me go, right girl?" he mutters to Xena, who whines and rolls on her back for a belly rub. Kurt obliges with a small smile.

A thumping announces Blaine's presence, as the boy finds it impossible to walk up the stairs at a normal pace.

"Hey," Blaine says breathlessly from the doorway, a garment bag thrown over his shoulder. "Thought you'd be ready by now." He drops the bag over the vanity chair and jumps on the bed, scratching Xena's ears on the way. He grins when she barks happily, tail wagging furiously.

Kurt pouts from his position on the floor. "Blaine, I seriously don't want to go," he admits. "I just…I can't." Thousands of eyes just staring and judging and hating him—he can't. Won't.

Blaine gives him an unreadable look for a long moment and then pats the spot next to him. Getting up with a groan, Kurt obeys and falls on the bed beside Blaine, quickly joined by the dog flopping over their legs.

"I want to tell you a story," Blaine says, but with a scarily serious tone that makes Kurt pay attention. As if on cue, Blaine's hand migrates up and starts tugging on his many earrings as always, but Kurt sees it shaking this time.

"Okay," Kurt breathes, locking eyes with Blaine.

Swallowing hard, Blaine starts with a sad smile. "It was before Dalton. At my middle school. I was…thirteen, I think?" Blaine lets out a long, nervous breath. "I've never talked about this, okay, just…hold on."

Kurt grabs his hand and squeezes. "Take your time," Kurt tries to keep his creeping fear out of his voice, but Blaine shakes his head like he knows. Like he always does. Xena falls quiet, but she shifts to curl up next to Blaine and Blaine leans into her body and almost relaxes.

"I wasn't out, not yet; but there was this guy. Ben. He was a year ahead of me and the Sadie Hawkins Dance was coming up. He asked me…and I said yes." Blaine snorts, bitter. "I was so fucking stupid. I thought it'd be ok because whatever, right? No one had to know we were going together together; we could've just been friends, right?" Blaine looks down at their clasped hands and shrugs. "Who knew seventh graders could be such little shits though, right?

"It was after the dance when they jumped us. We barely did anything; just one stupid slow dance; we didn't bother anyone. But while we were waiting for Ben's dad, they kind of, um…" Blaine trailed off and shook his head. "They beat the living crap out of us." Blaine says flatly.

Kurt waits, but Blaine doesn't elaborate. "Blaine, I'm—"

"It was a long time ago, Kurt," Blaine interrupts, smiling even though his shoulders stay tensed and his hand squeezes Kurt's.

Again, they fall into silence.

"Was that supposed to be a pep talk?" Kurt finally says with a slightly hysterical giggle. Christ; Blaine's life just goes from bad to worse, and Kurt can't do anything about it but make stupid jokes to try to get that hollow look off of his boyfriend's face and it just hurts.

Blaine rolls his eyes. "No, dumbass," he snorts, shoving Kurt's shoulder gently. "My point," he starts, grinning again, "is that I've never been to a dance since. And this is an important time for you, my budding designer; you don't have to waste it. We should do this. For us. Together." As if to prove his point, Blaine squeezes Kurt's hand again and pulls Kurt to his feet. "You're braver than you think," Blaine whispers.

Kurt glances back at his closet.

Courage, right?

"Okay."