Kurt sighed, leaning back on his hands. He was so not ready to leave for Dalton. 2 years he was going to be stuck at that stupid reform school. According to the note he’d received, he might be able to return on holidays, pending good behaviour.

His phone went off for the thousandth time that morning, and he flicked it open. “Thomas, if they pull my call records, you are going to be so screwed.” Kurt breathed into the phone, lying back on his pillows.

“Kurt, I’m just going to miss you. How the hell am I supposed to keep this thing going without you? You were the fucking brains and now I’m just kind of here.” Thomas replied, and Kurt could hear the sadness in his voice.

“Just remember, we changed the hotels, got a few new boys; everything will be fine. We won’t be able to talk while I’m at Dalton, so you’re going to have to get your goddamn head in the game.” Kurt lectured, hearing footsteps coming up the stairs. “I’ve got to go. Don’t fuck this up, Thomas.”

Kurt hung up the phone just as Burt entered the room. “Are you ready to go, Kurt? I really don’t want that Police Officer to come in here put you in cuffs and walk you away. Let’s go.”

He nodded, checking his hair once in the mirror before following his father down the stairs and outside.

Kurt and his father stood there awkwardly for a moment. “So… Uh… See you soon I guess.”

Burt reached over and pulled Kurt into a tight hug. “I love you kid. No matter how bad you screwed up.”

Kurt bit his lip as tears formed in his eyes. The one thing he hated the most about getting caught, was disappointing his father.

They pulled away from each other and Kurt found himself wiping at his eyes. “I love you too, Dad. And I’m really sorry about all of this.”

Burt remained silently, merely putting his hand Kurt’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “You’ll be back soon. Just stay out of trouble okay?”

“Dad, I’m going to reform school. How much trouble can I possibly get into?” Kurt laughed slightly before opening the door to the car. “See you soon.”

Kurt closed the door behind him, nodding at his father before watching him walk away.

“Kurt Hummel?” The driver asked.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “That would be me.” He looked out his window as they pulled out of the driveway. As if anyone would want to impersonate me at this point.

The driver to Westerville felt longer than usual, and Kurt found himself sitting on edge. When they finally pulled up to the metal gate, Kurt felt his stomach clench horribly.

There were huge brick walls surrounding Dalton in every direction. There were two watchmen towers perched on either side of the solid metal gate. Last, but certainly not least, barbed wire wrapped around the top of the walls, flaying in every which direction.

Suddenly Kurt felt even worse. What kind of people got sent here that they had to attach barbed wire to brick walls?

“Kid, get out of the car. Security’s waiting to take you over.” The officer’s voice brought Kurt back down to reality.

Kurt unbuckled his seat belt and pushed open the door.

“Hands behind your back while we walk up, son.”

Welcome to hell Kurt thought as he walked up the steps.

He went through the pat down, the metal detectors and even changed into the school uniform. If there was one thing he was going to miss during this whole ordeal, it was wearing his own clothes.

Kurt took a glance at himself in the mirror. The pants fit him in all the right places, but the blazer? The blazer was a different story. It made him look as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Better than an orange jumpsuit.” He muttered to himself before leaving the change room.

After receiving his schedule and room assignment, Kurt decided to go on a little tour so he could get to know his new home.

Kurt had just started on the second floor when he heard music coming from down the hall. His feet seemed to move of their own accord until he was standing outside the room the sound was coming out of.

He was about to peek his head around the corner when he was shoved violently backwards. ‘What the fuck!?” Kurt yelled before he could stop himself.

“Dude, I’m sorry. If the Warblers catch you spying, you’re so screwed you don’t even know. Blaine might like, I don’t know, eat your arm or some shit.” The boy was rambling so Kurt took the moment to check him over.

He was tall. Taller than Kurt and that was saying something. He had brown hair, and the glasses made it tricky to tell his eye color. He was skinny, but not in a way that was unattractive.

The boy obviously didn’t have much care for the dress code because his blazer was scrunched up in his hand. His dress shirt wasn’t tucked in, and his tie hung loosely from his neck.

“Hey, new kid. My eyes are up here.”

Kurt blinked a few times before he made eye contact. “Yeah, sorry. Was just…”

“Checking me out?” The boy supplied and Kurt smirked. “I’m Cameron.” He offered out his hand.

Kurt shook it twice before releasing. “I’m Kurt. Kurt Hummel.” He replied with a slight nod.

They stood in silence for a moment before Cameron spoke. “So yeah, the Warblers. Try and steer clear of them. They kind of showed up out of nowhere two weeks ago and somehow took over the place.” He paused.

Kurt decided it would be a perfect time to interrupt. “And who’s this Blaine guy you said was going to eat my arm?”

“He’s like their leader. The others kind of do what he says. He’s never been particularly violent; at least nothing that’s gotten him into trouble anyway.” Cameron shrugged. “He’s also got like every guy here at his beck and call, if you know what I mean.”

Kurt’s eyes widened a bit. “Blaine’s gay?”

“Very much so.” Cameron answered.

“So does that include you then?”

“Does what include me?”

“The boys that are at Blaine’s beck and call, as you put it. Are you one of them?” Kurt was now really curious about the boy standing in front of him.

Cameron blushed a bit and brought his free hand to the back of his neck. “Um, no. Not for lack of trying on his part though. He’s just not my type.”

Kurt waited for him to elaborate.

“Um, I don’t mean to come across as shallow or anything, so don’t take this as that. But Blaine’s kind of a hobbit.” Cameron said softly.

Kurt burst out laughing. “A hobbit that runs a Reform school gang? What even?”

Cameron shrugged again. “It’s all about the attitude. You act like you’re the shit, and that’s the general consensus people get.”

Kurt found himself smiling. “Not so subtle advice?”

Cameron winked. “Maybe. Anyways, Kurt. I have to get to class. I’m already late. But Welcome to Dalton.” He was about to turn but stopped himself. “Hey Kurt?”

Kurt turned around to face Cameron again. “Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to watch out for CanniBlaine.” Cameron winked again before slinging his blazer over his shoulder and walking away.

Kurt was halfway down the hall when the music began to play again. Was that Katy Perry? Kurt couldn’t help himself as he turned back around to investigate.

Because really, what kind of Reform school gang sung? Much less sung Katy Perry?

Kurt slowly peeked his head around so he could see through the window on the door. His eyes first landed on a blonde and a brunette standing pretty close together. Next they settled on a bigger guy with spiked hair. Kurt took note to avoid him as much as possible.

Last but not least, there was a black guy singing up to a shorter boy, who was currently hopped up on the table in the center. Kurt listened for a moment, deciding the guy singing lead wasn’t half bed.

Apparently, he’d stayed a second too long, and Blaine’s eyes locked with Kurt’s.

Kurt felt his breath catch in his throat as Blaine continued signing, almost directing the words let’s go all the way tonight straight at him. Based on Cameron’s rundown, he suddenly didn’t think that was such an out of park idea.

As the song finished, Kurt suddenly realised Blaine was walking over to the door and shit he had to get out of here before he got caught.

Turning around, Kurt took off like a bat out of hell, only slowing down once he was far enough away from the class room.

When Blaine opened the door to find Kurt gone, he became confused. Who the hell was that? Blaine didn’t know. But he did know that he wanted the new boy; he wanted the new boy in the worst possible way.