“Where are we?” Blaine asked, crawling out of the vehicle’s trunk, which was a lot more comfortable than he’d thought it would be.

They’d been driving for about an hour, and were now in a pretty normal-sized parking lot, belonging to what seemed like a public bathhouse.

“Or more, why are we here?” he added before any of the girls could answer. “It looks pretty closed to me.”

“It is.” Santana confirmed, flinging a bag over her left shoulder.

“Then why’re we here?”

“If you just take a chill-pill, hobbit, it’ll all work out fine.”

“What is with the Lord of the Rings obsession around here?” he muttered quietly to himself, following as the dark-skinned girl took the lead.

Watching as she took a key out of her jacket pocket, Blaine got a little confused.

“My last foster family owns this place. Snatched a key just before I left.” she informed, unlocking what seemed to be the backdoor. And after fighting with the lock for a second, the door slid open, reviling a pretty damn big pool. The water lay still and of some reasons the spotlights were turned on, even though the sun was shining in the sky above.

“And we’re finally back.” the tallest of them sighed, walking through the door and over to the bleachers placed around the water.

Before he knew it, the usually very laidback females where practically running around throwing their clothes everywhere. The blond one was jumping around and with a little shout she jumped and landed with a splash in the unnatural blue water, making one of the others jell at her angrily. The fact that she was butt-naked didn’t disturb Blaine as much as it ‘usually’ would of some reason, but the fact that the girl’s girlfriend was behind her in  the water just seconds later, also naked, and beginning to practically fuck her in the pool, that, on the other hand, he did find mildly… not very nice. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand the sight of lesbians, like he knew some gay guys couldn’t, it was more that he didn’t really feel like watching them having sex. That the others barely acknowledged it at all was a little amusing and before he could stop himself, he’d asked the tall one, Mackenzie, if he’d heard it right, why that was.

“We’re used to it.” she grunted in respond as she peeled off her ripped jeans.

“You’re ‘used to it’?”

“Yeah. All of us hanging around them have walked in on them, or have seen it happening in front of us before we know it.”

“Right…”

“Like, we all know what both of them looks like when they come, and that’s not really anything we’ve chosen to.”

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows slightly.

That’s really something I’ll do good without knowing.

The day started out quite soft, actually. He himself stayed out of the pool, it being cold both in the water and the air. Somehow he managed to small-talk with all of the girls, and to his surprise, to say the least, Blaine found himself quite enjoying their company.

After about an hour, Brittany decided it was time to come out of the pool, goosebumps covering her pale body, and with a little giggle she plopped down just beside Blaine, seemingly having no troubles with the fact that she was naked, not only in front of him, but also in early winter.

“Ehm, shouldn’t you put some clothes on?” he asked, feeling a little uncomfortable with the way she stared at him.

“So,” she said, sitting up a little straighter, looking at him like she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “Do you know Legolas personally?”

“W –what?” Blaine looked at the rest of the gang in helpless confusion, only to feel even more helpless when all they did was laugh at him.

“Legolas. Or maybe Gimli?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you from the Shire? Did you know Bilbo or Frodo?”

Is she serious right now?

“Oh!” her baby-blue eyes got bigger in excitement. “Or Gandalf?”

‘Is she serious?’ he mouthed to the laughing teenagers sitting just behind him, getting nods in responds.

Wow…

“His fireworks are the coolest thing ever! Were you there on Bilbo’s one-hundred and eleventhis birthday?”

“I was.” Blaine decided, having to grin a little at the blonde’s reaction.

“You were? Wow. Do you know why he just disappeared like that?”

“No, I can’t say I do.” the curly haired boy said thoughtfully, hiding a smile.

The conversation went on for quite a while, Blaine never stopping to wonder if she was actually serious, and how she could be if that was the case, before Santana, now dressed again to his approvement, grabbed one of her girlfriend’s wrists and told her that that was enough.

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind.” Blaine said with a little smirk. “It’s pretty amusing.”

The look Santana gave him surprised him to say the least.

“Stay away from her, okay. Just because she’s different doesn’t mean she’s automatically a source of amusement to you.”

“Take it easy Santana, he was just –“

“Mind your own business, Sheila.” muttered the Latino and Sheila shut her mouth.

Now I know all their names at least. Took long enough.

“So,” Santana said, suddenly sitting beside him like nothing happened.

“So?” he asked, keeping his gaze far off in the distance.

“Who are you?”

“Huh?”

“Who are you?” she repeated. “Like, where do you come from, which school did you go to before, do you have any siblings and so on. ‘Cause after all, we don’t really know anything about you, Frodo. I mean, you could be a serial killer.”

A little taken aback by the question, and by the fact that all of the teenage girls were now looking at him like he had a horn sticking out of his forehead, he searched his brain for what to tell them. It had been quite a while since he’d talked with someone about himself, and it wasn’t really anything he enjoyed.

Without him really controlling his hands, they moved to inside his jean-pocket, grabbing the pack of cigarettes. He took out one and lit it, still not really thinking, before he felt the practically begging eyes on him, and he ended up ‘sharing’ with everyone there, except Brittany, who’d apparently just try to eat it if she got her hands on one.

Seriously, is that girl for real? He thought, doubting it. A lot. There weren’t people like that. Not in the real world.

“’Who am I?’…Right.” Blaine muttered when Santana kicked him softly in his side. It was pretty weird that he sat furthest down of them all, so he had his back turned to the once he was supposed to talk to. Not that he was complaining, it was actually more comfortable like this.

“There really isn’t much to it.” he muttered after yet another while of thinking.

“Bullshit. Everyone has a story.”

“Yeah, but ‘everyone’ doesn’t feel like sharing it with teenage females they barely know.” Blaine smiled sweetly, even though he knew they couldn’t see his face. It was a reflex, sort of.
“Oh come oon.” one of them grunted. “We’ll tell you something about ourselves or whatever, and you tell us something too, cool?”

“…Guess so.”

This was so weird. Why where they so interested anyways? Weren’t they supposed to be the ‘cool alternative kids’? The once who only talked to ‘their own’? And he certainly wasn’t a part of ‘them’, whoever they were. Some might think so, by the way he acted toward just about everyone at the school and by the clothes he wore or whatever the hell they thought. But he really wasn’t. He’d much rather just be left alone. That way he wouldn’t get hurt by the truth, the truth that everyone was just as rotten as himself.

Before he knew it, though, everyone there was sharing small pieces of themselves, of their ‘history’ or whatever you wanted to call it.

“I’m Sheila. I’ve lived with five different families. Hated them all.”

“I’m Ronnie. I just don’t like people. But I like to ask questions, kinda curious about stuff, but don’t ever really listen to the answers. They bore me. But I can’t stop asking the questions… Do you know why?”

“I’m Mackenzie. Or ‘The Mack’ as some call me. I never date guys my own age. They have to be at least twenty-eight or it doesn’t work for me at all. And they say I have a… problem with my temper.”

“You know I’m Santana. And I’m the dyke ruining the Lopez family’s spotless image.”

“I’m… Brittany. I have a cat named Lord Tubbington and I think he’s having an affair with the neighbors’ dog…”

Looking at Brittany with a mask of a weird mix of confusion and amusement, Blaine cleared his throat.

“Well, guess I’ll have to tell you guys something now, don’ I?”

“Of. Course.” Santana said in a way only she could.

“Okay, this feels really stupid but whatever. I’m Blaine and… fuck this.”

What the fuck is this? Kindergarten?

“Don’t be a dick. Tell us something.”

“Will you be pleased if I say I like dick?” he tried with a half smirk.

“Nope.”

“You guys are a fucking pain.” the boy groaned.

What the hell am I supposed to tell them?

“I have to act like a housemaid at home, taking care of my wreck of a mother ‘cause my lovely father decided she wasn’t good enough for him.”

Wow. Where did that come from all of a sudden? Way too much information…

“That’s better.”

“And what about Quinn and Kurt? I assume you’re gonna tell them what I told you, so you gonna tell me anything ‘bout them?”

A couple of seconds passed and just when he was about to repeat the question, thinking they might not have heard it, Santana spoke again. She kind of seemed like their… spokesperson of sorts, which seemed a little ironic to Blaine.

“We honestly don’t know much about them. They’re sort of like those mysterious twins that moves into the haunted house in town together with their weird parents and no one dares to speak to them ‘cause they’re just too… weird. Or you know, not exactly like that but sort of...” she tried to explain.

“But they live together and from what I know they’ve done that since they were about fifteen or so, just around Kurt’s… ‘transformation’, I guess you could call it.”

“Transformation?”

“’Before’ Quinn, Kurt was… gay. Like, really gay. If you catch my meaning?”

“I –guess…” Blaine muttered, trying to picture Kurt in fabulous shirts and glittering scarves, failing pretty hard.

“Sorry for being nosy but, what the heck happened? I mean if he transformed like that?”

“For how long have you lived here? Do you know about –?”

“Ronnie. Shut up. Time for you to back off now, Frodo. Don’t want Kurt getting all fired up ‘cause I told you one thing too many.”

“No, course not.”

Why did I even care in the first place?

“Kurt, get your ass out of bed, we’re going out.”

“Out?” the boy asked sleepily, trying to force his heavy eyelids to open. “Where-when-how-what-why?”

“We’re not.”

“We’re –not? Now you're confusing me…” he yawned tiredly, lifting up his upper body with his bony elbows.

“It’s the only thing you’ve reacted to out of everything I’ve tried with the last half hour or so.”

“Then why not let me sleep if I’m such a bother?”

“It’s half past four in the afternoon you little dumbass, so I got tired of listening to your snores.”

“Half past four? Are you fucking kidding me?” Kurt groaned, working up the energy to get up.

“Nope. But you came to bed kinda late yesterday. Or, this morning.”

“Right. But still.” Fucking half past four.

Eventually, Kurt managed to drag himself to the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind him. Exactly what he was doing there he didn’t know, but it was the only place in their little home where you could close a door around you. Not that the so called bathroom was even anywhere near nice, but still. After sitting on the greasy floor and just breathing for half of eternity, Kurt got up and placed himself in front of the mirror. He groaned at the sight of the zombie that was now in front of him, only to groan again when he remembered that that was just him.

It was moments like these Kurt really wished they owned aspirin. Anything to help the hideous headache go away, really. He found himself almost a little amazed by how his hate and total lack of tolerance towards hangovers never really calmed down. You may think he should be used to it by now, after all. But no, he wasn’t. He still hated them as much as he did when he’d first started drinking, way, way back, like two thousand years ago. He still regretted getting drunk every morning after and he still almost seriously considered the option of never touching alcohol ever again. Though, this thought was usually washed away pretty quickly, or swallowed down later that same day if things were just really shit that particular day, and of course, it was swallowed down with some kind of alcohol that some random guy bought him at Scandals. And then the circle repeated itself. Over and over and over again.

   Kurt put his hands under the cold water, letting it pour over them for a second before cupping both his hands to be able to fill them with the clean water. Only, a familiar sort of pain stopped him. The pain of running water in razor cuts. Looking down, he sighed heavily when he saw the new cuts carved into his already scarred left wrist.

The weird part was that he didn’t really remember ‘creating’ them. Now when he knew it had happened, he knew that it was a memory he had in his head of him cutting through his skin, not a dream. But before somehow being able to not have noticed the fact that he’d still pretty open cuts on his wrist before he felt the water in them, he’d wondered mildly whether the pictures he had in his head had been a dream or reality. The more he tried to make sense of it or the more he tried to explain it to himself, the more confused he got. But if he was going to try and put it simply, he wasn’t completely sure if he’d actually cut himself, or if it had just been another dream. That was up until he saw his wrist of course, but still, having the proof, it still felt pretty weird. Like if…

Kurt shook his head. Stop. He was only confusing himself by trying to make sense of it all.

  “Quinn…” She looked up. “You think we could get Santana or Ronnie or whoever to buy food for us today? ‘Cause I’m pretty damn hungry…” he mumbled.

“They’re at Sheila’s pool.”

“Oh, right. Fuck.”

He’d totally forgotten about that. It was kind of a… tradition of sorts for the gang to drive there every first of November and spend the day there, no matter the weather. Where it came from he didn’t know, but it almost felt a little weird now when he knew he’d missed it.

“I can’t –believe you actually did that.” Blaine gasped once he’d reached the surface, looking over at a laughing Santana.

“Oh come on Anderson, don’t be a pussy, you were the only one left.”

“You’re gonna pay for this…” he threatened with an evil smirk, swimming to the side of the pool, trying to climb up.

“Nope.” the Latino smirked herself, pushing him back into the water once he was halfway up. But she’d stepped a little too close and Blaine was as quick as always and succeeded in grabbing her ankle and pulling her down in the pool just behind him.

“You fucker!” she shrieked, splashing the cold water in his face. But it was okay, because he was already soaked in it.

“My fuckin’ clothes!”

“Oh don’t be a pussy, Lopez.” he grinned, wiping his wet curls out of his hazel eyes.

“You’ll have to make me soup if I get sick now, you know. It’s fucking freezing.” she groaned when she’d managed to get out of the cold pool.

“Hey come on, we’re in the same boat, don’t be so grumpy.” Blaine chuckled, gesturing at his own soaked being.

“Now what’re we gonna do?” he asked after a moment. “We can’t just sit here and wait for our clothes to self-dry, it’s way too cold for that.”

“Y-you’re right-t.” Santana stuttered, clearly close to freezing her ass off.

“You’ll just have to get naked.” Mackenzie stated with a smug smile.

   And that’s just what happened, sort of. About a minute later and they sat on the bleachers in their underwear. And that may not sound too horrible, if you count out the fact that it was November and not really sunny anymore, that was.

“Your lips are like blueberry-blue.” Sheila said and Santana shot her a poisonous look, but kept quiet since her jaws clattered so hysterically from being cold.

“Would you stop looking at me like that? It’s kinda really fucking disturbing.” Blaine groaned when he’d had enough of Ronnie staring at him.

“But you're so sexy.” she mumbled, still staring at him with hungry eyes, which he didn’t really appreciate.

“And I’m so not straight, so forget whatever fantasies running through your head right now.”

“Ronnie, seriously–“ Santana started, but went quiet once her eyes landed on Blaine’s just about completely naked body. Her mouth moved as to say ‘wow’ but no sound came out.

“Really, Santana? You too?” he groaned.

“’M sorry Blainers, but you’ve got one hella nice body right there…” she told him almost a little… dreamingly.

Wow, well, this was uncomfortable. He knew he had a… good body, and he knew what a lot of people thought of it. And being stared at with bedroom eyes by drunk, or sober, guys at Scandals or wherever didn’t really bother him, but this was sort of… not comfortable. Because these were girls, staring at him whilst he was just sitting there, almost completely naked, and he didn’t really like that. The fact that Santana stared at him too, who were obviously just about as gay as you could get, both pleased his ego more than anything and made him want to slap her over her face and tell her to do… whatever, anything but stare at him like she was ready to have her way with him.

“San, you’re a dyke, remember?” Mackenzie mocked jokingly, seemingly completely ‘unaffected’ by Blaine’s… sexiness. Apparently she’d been serious when she said that a guy needed to be at least over twenty-eight for her to care.

“Yeahhh…” she mumbled with a smile on her face that almost made her look a little high.

“Yeah.” she said again, sitting back up straight again and shaking her head like she’d just woken up from a trans.

“Come on, I think our clothes are dry enough to put back on now.” he grumbled, standing up and walking aver to them. His jeans were still pretty damn damp, but it didn’t matter. He was cold as fuck and actually really wanted to go home and sleep. Oh the joy of being a teenage boy.

 “Santana, do you think Blaine is hotter than me?” he heard Brittany ask her girlfriend as he yawningly put his clothes back on.

“Of course not, Britt.” came an instant reply. “You’re the hottest person I’ve ever seen.”

“Good.” He could hear the smile in the girl’s voice. “You’re the hottest person I’ve ever seen, too.”

“That’s good to hear.” Santana said with a little giggle. And even tough Blaine hadn’t really known the girl for long, the sound still sounded pretty weird coming from her.

“I love you, Santana.” Brittany cooed.

“Love you too.” Sound of kissing followed and Blaine had to stop the emerge to roll his eyes.

“You’ll get used to it.” Sheila told him, suddenly appearing by his side. “We’ve all learned to block it out, all the cheesy romantic shit goin’ on between the two of them all the time. You’ll learn to too, soon enough.”

“…Right.” he muttered, making a grimace when he felt just how damp his jeans still were. They sure felt a lot wetter now than they had when he’d just had them in his hands. Just another weird unexplainable thing it this world.

Then Sheila’s words sort of sunk in, ‘you’ll get used to it soon enough.’ Soon enough? That sounded like she thought he was going to keep on spending time with them.

He thought about this involuntarily as they walked back to the car a while later.

He had really had a good time today. The girls were much nicer than he’d thought, if he was being honest with himself. Funnier, sort of. They weren’t all tough and macho douchebags as they gave themselves up to be in school, and maybe he should have known that that was the case. But it had still surprised him when he heard them laugh today, for example.

They were pretty nice girls, he actually kind of liked being around them. Not when they were staring at him like he was some kind of sex-god, that was. But otherwise things were… pretty good with them.

So maybe he should keep hanging with them? Just to see if they could actually become friends in the long run? Maybe he should just try and put what had happened behind him and realize that everyone weren’t like his old ‘friends’?

Maybe? Hm.