On a rainy Friday afternoon, Blaine finds himself in one of the bathroom cubicles, situated on top of a closed toilet seat lid as he scrawled in his notebook. It's lunch period, and as it's raining excessively outside, the cafeteria and hallways overflowed with students, so Blaine had opted to eat his lunch where he'd be safe and away from the inevitable jeopardy.

He hadn't seen Kurt since he helped him with his slushy predicament on Monday. And that sort of made him sad, sizzling out that only spark of hope that seeped in the pit of his stomach. He thought that maybe he'd finally made a friend after recalling Kurt's coffee invitation. But it's been five days. And nothing. Why did he ever think Kurt would want to be friends with him in the first place?

So the rest of his week was sufficiently spent cooped up in his bedroom, brushing dusty matter of the insides of his shelf and digging for his favourite novels to devour, or plotting out his next story. On the contrary, he'd be at school, being thrown into lockers and having to eat his lunch in the school cubicles. Needless to say, Blaine's life wasn't at all that interesting. It was a continuous pattern of pain, misery, and small bursts of bliss that comes from formulating ideas and words and crafting them into original stories.

Maybe that's why Blaine enjoyed writing so much. It made him feel more secure, easing the pain of reality by expressing his thoughts and feelings coherently on to paper and letting his anger flow out as soon as he picked up a pen. But it also allowed him to escape, bringing him to a state of relaxation by simply creating adventures and mysteries of his own, or even twisting his own real life experiences and making them more thrilling.

Twirling, Blaine writes. He was twirling and dancing ever so gracefully under the moonlight, casting a sheer glow that accentuated his features beautifully. Shimmering, dancing-

"...and did you see his face? He was fucking pissed, man."

Blaine's movements stop, his head snapping up as two familiar voices accompany him in the restroom, sucking his thoughts back to reality and shifting his mood almost instantly.

"Well, what did you expect? We practically threw him across the fucking field," a deep voice replies followed by an uproar of laughter. Blaine tenses as he recognises the voice as Karofsky.

"So, are we still on for after school?"

"Uh huh, 4o'clock sharp outside the front gates. That Blaine kid is in for a surprise."

Blaine stills at the sound of his name. His heart pounding rapidly in his chest as his pen clenches tightly around his sweaty palms. What could they possibly do that they haven't done already?

"Sure fucking right he is," a hostile voice says. "What does he expect when he sits around all day writing those faggy stories?"

"I guess we just haven't knocked enough sense in to him just yet, have we?" Karofsky sniggers. "Kid deserves everything coming to him."

There are more chuckles of laughter emitted as the sounds are travelled outside and into the hallway. Blaine exhales a long awaited breath as he's left in a ghostly silence.

* * *

Hot, open-mouthed kisses are placed along his jaw-line; he arches into the touch, gripping desperately at anything his hands could reach. He turns his head and connects their mouths, yearning, wanting to be touched. Urgent hands grip at the back of his neck, eliciting moans as he's pulled closer into the kiss. He parts his lips instinctively, allowing himself to be devoured in the intensity, until he pulls back, panting.

"Wait, Zach, I need to-mmfff— "

Another kiss presses to his lips, cutting him off. "Mhm, Kurt, baby, please. I missed you so much."

Kurt chuckles before planting a chaste kiss to Zach's mouth. "I missed you too, even though you dropped me off to school this morning. But I left my bag in the choir room, so let me just quickly fetch it and we can finish what he started, okay?" he says with a wink, before clambering out of the car. He quickly fixes his hair in the rear-view mirror and turns of his feet, scurrying back in to the building.

* * *

Blaine sighs, staring aimlessly at the flickering light above him. It's around 3:35PM, and he's slumped against the wall in the empty corridors, waiting motionlessly until the coast is clear of jocks before he could get up and leave. He could have written in his notebook to kill time, but honestly, he didn't have enough energy to even do that right now.

Why did he have to be so weak?

Blaine let's out an audible breath, rests his head against the wall and closes his eyes. He wishes that maybe, some day, he could be as brave and courageous as the characters he's created. He wishes that someday he could find someone to share beautiful adventures with. To fall in love, marry and grow old with. And, someday, he wishes he could write about that special someone, too.

"Blaine?"

Shook out of his reverie, Blaine snaps his eyes open. He looks up, and sees Kurt, looking at him with concern. Blaine scrambles to his feet, dusting down his attire in an attempt to look presentable.

"Uh, Kurt, hi," Blaine says, attempting a strained smile. "What are you, uh, what are you doing here?"

Kurt lifts a perplexed eyebrow. "I had glee club after school and I forgot my bag in the choir room," he says, taking a few small steps towards Blaine. "What are you doing here?"

Blaine bites his lip, his voice hushed and slightly hoarse when he says, "I was just..." He waves a hand in the air awkwardly, hoping it would answer the question so he wouldn't have to continue.

"Were they bothering you again?" Kurt asks quietly.

Blaine gives a small nod. "I was going to stay here until they were gone, so they wouldn't..."

Kurt beckons his head understanding. "Well, are you still up for that coffee invite? It might help take your mind off things." he says with a smile. "We can take the back exit. Just in case."

"I... really?" Blaine says, clearly his throat when his voice comes out too high. "I mean, that's great! I'd love to."

"Great! I'll just get my bag and we can leave." He smiles, sliding his phone out of his pocket and sending a quick text:

To Zach (3:43 .p.m)
Sorry. Emergency plans with a friend! I'll make it up to you, I promise! – Kurt

Kurt looks back up with a smile, slipping him arm through Blaine's as he leads the way to the choir room. "Let's go."

* * *

"So I presume you're in Glee club then?"

The sweet smell of coffee aroma encompasses Blaine's nostrils as he situates himself comfortably opposite Kurt. He takes a small sip of his medium drip and breathes a sigh of content, savouring the gratifying taste of warmth on his tongue.

Kurt nods at Blaine's question. "I joined on my very first day. I was a member at my old school, too. And well, it may not be the most accepting of clubs among popular students, but I have a passion for singing, so why let anyone get in the way of that? You know?"

Blaine's eyes light up. "I do. I've always been so passionate about writing and revelling in my own story-telling and I've always gotten so much crap for it. I just never understood why. I... well, you saw what happened."

"I think they're just jealous," Kurt says, studying Blaine as he chooses his words carefully. "They envy you; your passion; your bravery to continue doing what you love in spite of everything. You learned the hard way. As did I. But you know what? I kept on going. And since then, my love for singing just kept on growing."

"Yeah." Blaine blinks, contemplating Kurt's words. "Yeah, I think you're right." He looks down at his cup of coffee, marvelling in the warmth seeping through as he wraps his hands around the middle, tracing his thumb absently over The Lima Bean logo. "Can I ask you a question?"

Kurt swallows a mouthful of coffee and smiles. "Of course."

"Why did you transfer schools?"

Kurt tenses; his eyes averting from Blaine to the table.

"I – you don't have to answer if you're not comfortable," Blaine says quickly after catching Kurt's actions. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have asked. We barely know each other and I-"

"-no, Blaine it's fine, honestly," Kurt interrupts Blaine's ramblings. "I don't mind telling you. And besides, we're supposed to be getting to know each other, right?"

Blaine smiles bashfully. "I – right. Take your time."

Kurt nods and takes a deep breath. "Well, there's more than one reason I transferred. First things first: I'm gay. And being gay while living in Lima, I – well, it can stir up a lot of difficulty. So people would make derogatory remarks or push me into lockers when they passed me in the halls. But honestly, it didn't bother me too much. I was able to ignore it and still carry on with my day-to-day life. But that's when everything escalated around Christmas time..."

Kurt's voice sinks into a hoarse whisper until a dry silence drifts over them. Blaine reaches over to Kurt's trembling hand, taking it in his with a gentle grip to prevent Kurt from fiddling with his cup. Blaine strokes his thumb over Kurt's and nods in encouragement.

"...I was shopping in the mall by myself trying to gather last minute Christmas presents when I saw a small group of boys from my school just... laughing at me. I thought I was being paranoid at the time so I continued to walk past them. But then they started to follow me. I walked faster, trying to get away but were still behind me. That's when I started to run. I ran fast." Kurt's grip on Blaine's hand tightens. "A - all I remember is feeling dizzy and sick with fear but I didn't stop until I finally managed to get to my car. I think I lost t-them, though. So I stayed in my car for a good hour after that and then I just... went home. I went home and acted as if nothing happened. I never told my dad what happened. At the time he'd recently suffered from a heart attack and I couldn't – I wouldn't let him go through that again, Blaine. I just couldn't."

Kurt takes a deep breath. He pulls his hand away from Blaine's, using the corner of his sleeve to wipe away an escaping tear before speaking again with an audible croak in his voice, "After that, I was terrified to leave my house alone again. I'd go to school, jittery with anxiety every corner I turned. And then one day, when I left Glee club late one night, I - I saw the same group of boys. I tried to get to my car as fast as I could b – but it was too late. They hit me and threw me around a couple times. My dad saw the bruises when I arrived home that night. He went absolutely absurd and demanded to know everything. S-so I told him. He wanted me to transfer schools straight away and even suggested a few private schools that apparently had 'anti-bullying policy' but I told him no. First, we didn't have the money and second, I didn't see the point. I mean, we live in Lima. Every school I'd go to is certain to homophobes, so why would I want to take the risk of going somewhere which could possibly be worse than what I had to go through."

"Kurt, I'm so sorry." Blaine didn't realise he had started crying until his voice came out in a croaky whisper. He swallows the lump in his throat.

Kurt wipes another tear from the corner of his eye and waves a dismissive hand. "It's nothing compared to what you have to go through, Blaine."

"Are you kidding me?" Blaine says. "Yes, we've both gone through similar experiences in our lives, but that doesn't make them comparable, Kurt. You ended up getting hurt – both physically and emotionally which had a serious impact on your life. You shouldn't minimize your problems like that, Kurt."

"I know," Kurt says, releasing a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. "But sometimes I just want to... forget it ever happened. My life hasn't always been that great. I mean – my mom passed away when I was eight years old; I've been taunted and bullied most of my life. And my dad... he's my hero. He lost the love of his life. And he's been in and out of the hospital because of his heart. B-but I've watched him grow and heal and transform into one of the bravest, strongest man I know." Kurt bows his head, his next words escaping in a whisper, "Sometimes I wish I could be that brave, you know?"

Blaine nods his head. Because he does know.

"He got married during the summer," Kurt continues. "And he's began healthy dieting and exercising. Well with my help, of course." Kurt chuckles and glances at Blaine with a watery smile. "He's happy, though. And that made me happy. So that summer I tried to turn my life around: I went out more, made a few new friends. I even got myself a boyfriend."

The frantic beating of Blaine's heart stills and falls into a pit of emptiness at the word boyfriend. Of course Kurt has a boyfriend. Look at him, he's gorgeous. Blaine takes another sip of his now cold coffee, hoping Kurt doesn't notice his subtle change in demeanour.

"And finally," Kurt continues, "I decided to move schools. My dad and I moved in with my step-mom and step-brother a month after the wedding. And after an excruciatingly long discussion with my dad, we decided going to school with my step-brother at McKinley High would be the best. So here I am."

"Thank you for telling me, Kurt," Blaine says, his voice soft and humbling. "I know it must have been hard and I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that. But I'm glad you're happy now."

Kurt places his hand atop of Blaine's, lifting it up until their fingers are entwined in a loose but comforting grip. "You'll get through it, Blaine," Kurt tells him. "I promise it'll get better and you'll be happy doing the things you love."

"I - I know." Blaine bites his lip and stares down at their hands as he speaks. "I just wish it would be better now. I'm tired of waiting." He sniffs. "I – um, I'm gay too. And I felt and understood the pain and struggle you went through. I just have to fight through it, right? We both have to fight through it." Blaine nods his head at his own words, as if making a promise to himself. "I believe I'll be happy again, I really do."

Kurt reaches over the table and grabs a handful of napkins as a cloud of silence falls over them. He takes a few for himself and offers a couple to Blaine, who accepts them gratefully. They dab gently at their teary eyes and take in each other's puffy eyes and flushed cheeks.

Kurt tries suppressing an urge to chuckle at the sight, but fails and ends up bursting into hysterics of laughter. Blaine's eyes widen at first, but the corners of his mouth begin to crinkle upwards and he finds himself laughing just as hard as Kurt. They clutch their stomachs as their melodic laughs blossom around the coffee shop, casting strange glances from people sat at near-by tables.

"God, look at us," Kurt says through fits of laughter, "we met barely under a week ago and now we're already sitting in the middle of a coffee shop, crying to each other as we bond over how miserable our lives are."

Blaine laughs harder and shakes his head. "Maybe we should try settling on the more light-hearted conversations for now."

"You're right," Kurt chortles and swallows down another mouthful of coffee, grimacing at the coldness. "Uh – how about some more coffee, first?"

"Sure," Blaine says happily. "I'll have a medium dr– "
"I remember." Kurt smiles as he stands up from his seat to fetch some more fresh coffee, leaving Blaine in a daze of contentment.

Blaine let's his mind wander as he gazes around the coffee shop and watches people sat at their table, creating his own intricate stories about them in his head. There's that one couple, sat next to the window, who are so painfully in love that all of their troubles fly over their heads. Or the single parent sat alone in the far corner, cuddling her child as if she is afraid to let go. He maps out stories for each individual; some lives are easier and free-flowing than others, but they all go through many complications and difficulties at some stage. Beautiful, weird and remarkable mysteries that'll eventually die out and be replaced by more wonderful stages in the near-future of their short lives.

"So," Kurt says as he comes back with two new steaming cups of coffees. "What's your favourite colour?"
Blaine laughs at the simplicity and dynamic shifts of their conversation. He takes a sip of his coffee trying not to burn his mouth as the cream melts across his tongue. "Blue."

He'd already forgotten the reason why he was so sad before as another bubble of laughter rose from his throat.

* * *

It was dark outside by the time Kurt arrived home. He and Blaine had decided to take a walk in the park after The Lima Bean had closed and continued getting to know each other, slotted with bursts of laughter and happiness.

"Dad, I'm home!" Kurt hollers and closes the door tightly behind him. He kicks off his shoes and hangs his coat and scarf up before entering the living room, which was dimly lit by the television.

"Where've you been, kiddo?" his dad asks from where he's resting across the couch.

Kurt flops down next to his dad. "Out with a friend, Blaine," he says, grabbing a handful of tortilla chips from the table. "We lost track of time, sorry."

Burt nods in understanding. "Zach stopped by around an hour ago," he says. "He's been waitin' up in your room since."

Kurt quirks an eyebrow and looks over to his dad, lights from the TV screen reflecting on his quizzical expression. "He has?"

"Well don't leave him waitin', bud," Burt tells him. "He seemed pretty eager to talk to you."

Kurt nods and dusts his hands off, mumbling a quick 'be right back' as he exits the living room and ascends the stairs. He opens the door to his bedroom, and sees his boyfriend lying across his bed; his shaggy blonde hair nestles into Kurt's pillow as he stares up at the ceiling.

"Uh – hi," Kurt says, and Zach sits up, blue-eyes meeting blue. "What're you doing here?"

"Well I was hoping to come visit my boyfriend to see what he could have possibly been up to after I recall him ditching me with barely any explanation," Zach says venomously, standing up from the bed. His tall frame towers over Kurt's as he strides closer to him, his face red with anger and hostility. "It's almost 9:30pm, Kurt. Where the fuck have you been?"

Kurt scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I told you, I was with a friend." He walks past Zach, almost ignoring his presence, and sits down in front of his dressing table, tidying the assortment of products.

"Right – right, of course." Zach follows him, his eyes fixated on Kurt through the mirror as he begins to apply his skin regime. "And who is this 'friend'?"

"His name is Blaine," Kurt says casually, and pats a towel to his face. But the towel is grabbed forcefully from his hands and thrown against the other side of the room, sending a photo frame from beside his bed to the floor. He's up almost immediately, holding his breath as he grabs the frame from the floor. His lip quavers as his thumb strokes over the piece of broken glass than covers his mom's smiling face.

"Get out!" Kurt clamours, his face burning red as looks back up from the photograph to his boyfriend. It was as if a rainstorm had settled over him, washing and draining away the inches of happiness that had filled him. "Get out! Get out! Get out!"

Zach was frozen on the spot. His cruel, hard expression had melted away and was replaced by regret and remorse. "Kurt, I –"

"Leave! Now!"

Zach quickly collects his bag from the bed and shuffles towards the door, murmuring a nervous, "See you, Kurt," before the sound of a door closes behind him, leaving Kurt in silence.

Tears spill and fall onto the broken frame Kurt still grips tightly in his palm. He wipes the dust from the edges of the old antique frame and stares down at the photograph, and begins to trace his index finger idly around the figures of his eight-year old self and his mom; he's holding up a bauble to a Christmas tree as his mom lifts him up from behind to help, their smiling faces neutral as they pose for the camera.

Kurt smiles sadly at the memory, and a watery, broken whisper of, "I'm sorry," fills the silence of the room.