“And who do we have here?” Kurt asked, looking at a boy he’d never seen before, sitting on a bench gazing out over the football field where the school’s horrible football team was rolling around in the mud.

He stood up and Kurt looked at the small man. Like really, he was tiny. And his hair was curly as hell. He looked like a freakin’ hobbit with too small feet.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” Kurt raised a pierced eyebrow at the words.

“Unless you want me to, of course.” added the male and Kurt named him Frodo in his head.

“Who exactly do you think is giving you the right to talk to me like that?”

“No one’s telling me I can’t.” said Frodo and Kurt laughed.

“Wow, tough are we?” he said with an evil grin. “This is the real world, hobbit, and if you look at the two of us, I’m clearly superior to you.”

“Size doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, is that what you tell yourself when you look down at your tiny little excuse for a c–“

A fist connected with Kurt’s face and he gasped in surprise.

Who the fuck did Frodo think he was?

“Oh you are so going to regret that.” Kurt hissed, voice low and raspy.

“Bring it on, lady.”

Kurt’s blood boiled. No one talked to him like that.

“Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re a new face in the crowd here.”

“Never.”

  Minutes later and the two boys were both breathing heavily, a bruise starting to appear right above the hobbit’s right eye and there was blood coming out of his nose, which was pretty swollen. Kurt himself could taste blood so he assumed that his lip was smashed and there were blood running down his cheek. There was a sort of ringing in his head and his blood boiled worse than before.

“You’re so fucking dead.” he hissed, jaws clenching.

“Is this really necessary?” Quinn’s voice asked from just behind Kurt.

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Because there’s no need to fight, you’ll only get in trouble.”

Kurt looked at the girl, holding back a frown.
“When did you become such a fucking pussy, Quinny?”

The pink haired girl then took a quick step forward and her knot fist hit Kurt right in his stomach. Not being prepared to get hit again, especially not by Quinn, he almost let out a whimper, but was able to stop himself in the last second.

But he sort of fell to the ground, at least his legs caved underneath him and he found himself on one knee, not able to get back up.

“What the actual fuck was that?” he hissed at her and she just smiled sweetly at him.

“Don’t call me a pussy, Kurt, or you’ll live to regret it, ‘kay?”

“…fine.” Kurt grumbled, not really able to breath.

Then, of course, the hobbit had to be there and he had to start laughing at him and that made Kurt so fucking furious he could barely keep himself from getting up and separating his curl covered head from his tiny body.
“You shut up now or you won’t get out of this alive.”

And of course his body felt like it had to cough right after he’d spoken that sentence. Life was so wonderful.

“Or else what? You’ll sing a tone so high my ears will explode?”

“I love your insulting skills.” the blue eyed boy stated, finally able to stand up again.

“That’s not the only lovable side of me.”

“Okay, so ehm, excuse me while I go throw up.” Kurt hugged his stomach, pretending to be sick. “Are you serious?”

The male shrugged.

“Do I look like a hobbit lover to you?”

“You look like the type who’d fuck everything and anything that moves, actually.”

Kurt didn’t respond. He turned around and started walking towards the parking lot, telling Quinn to come with him.

 “That bitch’s attitude. I can so not handle it.” Kurt hissed once he was inside their pick up, hands knot into fists.

“Just breathe, Kurt, okay?”

“What d’you think I'm doing? I’d be pretty dead if I wasn’t.”

Quinn rolled her eye.

“Seriously, who is that guy even and what gives him the right to act that way?”

“Dunno. Haven’t seen him before.” she replied shortly.

Kurt looked at her, forehead slightly wrinkled. She wasn’t looking back at him, though; her face was turned away from him, looking out through the dirty window.

“Quinn.”

“Hm?”

“You know that guy, don’t you?”

“What, no?”

“Then you’ve at least met him before.”

“I haven’t seen him before in my life.”

“Don’t fucking lie to my face.”

Quinn groaned. “You know me too well.”

“Well, maybe I do, but this has nothing to do with that. You’re too obvious.”

“Fuck you.”

“Who is he?”

“Why’re you so damn interested in him?”

“Because of reason?” Kurt said and made a gesture pointing at his swollen lip.

“I –don’t know anything about him.”

“You’re angry at him.” Kurt stated.

“Honestly, can you read my mind?”

“Oh, Quinny, you’re a teenage girl. Your emotions are like, too obvious for it to be funny sometimes.”

“I hate being a teenage girl.” Quinn said grumpily.

“Don’t worry; you act like a child most of the time.”

“I hate you, ya know.”
“Right back at you.”

   As Kurt ‘parked’ the car just outside there little shithole of a home, he wasn’t able to not become curious.

Because Quinn and Frodo had a history, maybe not much so, but there was still something about it that was worth hearing about. He could tell.

So when Kurt asked again once they were inside, he didn’t just ask for the sake of getting some information about the unknown male, he asked because he was bored and didn’t have anything to do. And for once he actually felt like talking.

“Tell me, please.”

“Wow, did you just say please? Did you just beg? Blaine really hit you hard in the head, didn’t he?”

At first Kurt was going to give a snarky remark in return, but then he realized that,

“Blaine? Is that Frodo’s real name?”

“Shit.” Quinn muttered, biting her lip.

“Too obvious, I told you.” Kurt’s voice actually sounded a bit amused.

“Tell me.” he demanded then.

“I –“ she sighed, frustrated. “Fine. But don’t expect me to give you any details.”

“Did you fuck’m?”

Quinn snorted. “Wasn’t it kind of really obvious that he’s everything but straight?”

Well, maybe, when Kurt thought about it.

“Okay, so, no, I didn’t fuck him. He’s too short either way.” Kurt nodded in agreement.

“But he sort of fucked me. Or, fucked me over.”

“Right.” Kurt didn’t like this, but he was getting really damn curious for no specific reason.

“How?” he asked impatiently when she wouldn’t go on.

“He was basically the reason why I got sent back to Juvie.”

“’Kay. So this happened…?”

“When I was in Jane Addams, yes. And I was like two weeks from being allowed to go back ‘home’” she made quote signs in the air as she said the last word. “Or whatever. I was soon to be allowed out of that place, anyway. And that motherfucker ruined it.”

“How?”

“That’s enough details, back off now.” Quinn cut off the little storytelling and changed the subject.

“Why’re you staying in tonight?”

“Need to sleep.” Kurt responded shortly, giving his roommate a disapproving look.

“Don’t change the subject, missy.”

“Look. Why’re you so damn nosy all of a sudden?” the tall girl snapped. “I said there’d be no details. I’ve told you the basics. So back the fuck off.”

“Fine, fine.” Kurt held his hands up in a sort of ‘chill’ gesture before getting up from where he sat on his mattress.

“Where’re you going?”

“I’m gonna go mind my own business.”

Kurt walked to the kitchen, wanting something to eat. But of course he was let down, just as always.

“Quinn, we seriously need to buy food!”

“With what money, exactly?” his roommate jelled from her bed.

Right. Money.

That was a problem. Neither of them had any.

 The two of them had shared the little one-room apartment for just about three years now. They’d met at the towns hospital and of some reason they’d become friends just like that. It had been really weird for Kurt since he had promised to never trust someone that easily again. But they’d bonded really quickly, both knowing that the other had had a rough time growing up. They both knew the other was as fucked as them.

So, somehow, they’d ended up wandering the town together when they couldn’t stay at the hospital any longer. Somehow they both knew that neither of them had anywhere to go.

They had found this dump after nights and nights sleeping in Kurt’s car in the parking lot outside of William McKinley High school. It had been barred with planks over the door and windows, obviously not really a good place to live in.

But the teens, only fifteen at the time, were desperate and it seemed okay to stay there temporarily.

Only, it didn’t become temporarily. They stayed in the shitty little apartment, not having any other options. They had no fridge or microwave or anything like that. It was only recently they had somehow managed to get running water.

It was a dump, really. They had no furniture except from the two thin and extremely uncomfortable mattresses on either side of the only room that they’d found going through the dumpsters placed all over the town. And there was a sort of a dresser that was there when they ‘moved in’. But the drawers were gone so there was really no use of the thing, except like, putting things on top of it.

They barely survived. Being a teenager was hard at its own, so having to deal with the stuff the two of them had to deal with… well, it was hard, to say the least.

 They’d learned that furniture and being warm at night really didn’t matter. But they needed money. Money was their biggest problem. But they couldn’t get any since they were both so busy with school, even if they barely went there for work or class. They were just busy with, well, life.

And when and if they did show up to job interviews, they mostly got turned down as soon as the people in charge saw them. No one wanted anything to do with pierced, pink haired, skinny and practically homeless teens.

 Quinn was able to steal hair dye, and other small things, easily. But she didn’t dare to try and take anything that cost too much, knowing that she’d in deep shit if she got caught. Kurt took things from the school’s cafeteria nearly every day, but he got sick of living off of fruit and shit like that on the weekends pretty quickly.

Sometimes Santana or some of the other Skanks would buy them food, but they didn’t know the full extent of Kurt and Quinn’s problem. No one except from themselves knew.

Kurt had started going to Scandals as often as he did just because if he was drunk, or making out with someone, he tended to be able to forget that he was hungry. Getting someone to buy drinks for him was ridiculously easy at that place too. Most of the men there were old, some of them married with children, and they were easy to flirt with.

 And even though Kurt would never, ever, ever, tell anyone; he kind of didn’t love living the way he did.

And not because of ‘Buh-hu nobody loves me.’ or some shit like that.  Nope, he was tired of it because he was sick of nearly freezing his balls of every night and having to deal with back pains from practically sleeping on the floor. He was sick of the people trying to throw him out of where he had a roof over his head. He was tired of being hungry and unsafe everywhere.

And basically, he was sick as fuck of his own mind. Because it was so tiring. It made him feel like such a piece of… nothing, and it wasn’t fair.

His mind hated him. It hated him more than anything and it always made sure to tell him just what a pathetic piece of shit he was, how much his life sucked and how much it hated it.

But it was the only life he had. He barely remembered being happy or feeling at home somewhere. And he knew that he deserved that.

But it still got to him sometimes. Sometimes he was too weak. And he hated that he couldn’t handle his own life, not even his own mind. Hated that he couldn’t take responsibility for what he’d done. And he hated the scars covering his arms and thighs, constantly reminding him of just how weak he was.