“Oh, were you?”

Blaine crossed the room to the piano bench taking a seat and patted the other side, gesturing for Kurt to come and join him. Kurt was hesitant at first, but then his dying urge to figure out what was going on started to move his feet. As he got closer, Blaine turned around and started to play.

It was soft at first, something very smooth and elegant. Kurt sat down next to him, eyes mesmerized as his fingers pressed lightly over the keys. At first the melody sounded so sad, but as he continued, Kurt could feel his heart swell as it built into something so beautiful it only made him question who this boy really was even more. He looked up from the boy’s nimble fingers, and as Blaine continued to play Kurt noticed tears in his eyes.

The song continued, turning sad once more. Kurt watched him as he closed his eyes and played. The boy’s face scrunched up a bit as he let out a small sob that shook his body. It ended just as softly as it had begun, and as the last note faded into the white noise that was Dalton Elementary’s choir room, Kurt snuck his arms around Blaine’s waste and pulled him close into a warm embrace. The boy’s body quaked with another sob.

Kurt found himself rubbing gentle circles into the boy’s back while letting out soft “shhh’s” into Blaine’s ear. The song was lovely. It was unlike anything Kurt had heard before. He looked down at Blaine in his arms. He looked so small. He looked almost like the crying mess that was his younger female counterpart that was in his arms just minutes ago.

When Kurt finally felt the boy stop shaking, he let out a small sigh of relief. He heard a small sniffle before the younger was gently pulling himself out of the embrace and turning to face Kurt with his legs up and crossed on his side of the bench. Kurt gave him a small smile.

“Blaine,” he begun in a breathy tone, “that was amazing.” The brunet’s smile grew as he noticed a grin on the boy’s face.

“Thank you,” Blaine whispered as his smile got bigger.

Kurt hated what he was about to do, but it needed to be done.

“Blaine, I hate to ruin the moment, but I need an explanation,” Kurt said timidly.

Blaine sighed. “I guess I should start from the beginning.”

Kurt gave a small nod, telling the hazel-eyed to continue.

“I was born into the ‘prestigious’ Anderson family, second in line to inherit the family’s firm and the first and only grandson to the great John Anderson.”

Kurt gasped.

“That’s right, John Anderson, the former Attorney General during the Regan administration and now the top defense attorney in the country. Growing up, I was given everything you could imagine. I had every toy or stuffed animal I ever wanted. I started playing baseball when I was three at the demand of my grandfather. It was as he put it ‘the most American thing a young boy like you can do.’” Blaine rolled his eyes.

“I played until I was eight,” he continued. “That’s when things started going downhill. When I started kindergarten, I was the most well-liked boy in class. All the girls would chase after me and all the guys would want me to play football with them. Everything was so simple. It continued that way until I was in the third grade. That was when Ethan Shaw moved to town. His father started work for my grandfather and soon became a good friend of the family. Naturally Ethan and I being the same age were meant to be friends. He enrolled into Dalton Academy and was placed into my class.”

Blaine caught the “ah ha!” moment on Kurt’s face, and stopped him before he could ask.

“Yes I went to school here, and yes that is how I know Silvia. She has been working here for a very long time.” Blaine flashed his teacher a smile.

“Anyway, Ethan and I grew closer and closer by the day. He came over every day after school, and we would play in the back yard until it was time for dinner. We would swing on my swing set or climb trees and just talk or run around and play soccer. He even helped me perfect my fast ball.” Blaine gave a fond smile as he thought back to his childhood.

“At school during recess, Ethan and I would just hang out by ourselves and play. We were caught up in our own little best friend world. By the time school ended that year Ethan and I were never found without the other close by.” The younger’s fond smile began to fade.

Kurt could only guess what would happen next.

“Our families planned a group vacation to Disneyland that summer. The adults shared a room while Ethan and I got our own. We spent every minute we didn’t have in the park cuddled in one bed watching the Disney movies we brought with us. He even held me as I cried when Mufasa died in The Lion King. He was my first crush, Kurt.”

The brunet could see the fresh round of tears in his eyes.

“When we returned from the trip we were still inseparable. We spent many nights in the same bed when having sleepovers, just cuddling close and sharing stories of what life was like before he moved here. It was the last week of summer and his parents suggested to mine that we start spending some time apart since we had different teachers this year. We had one last sleepover to end all sleepovers. We played outside till it was dark, came in, ate the best dinner my mom has ever cooked to this day, and spent the night watching our favorite movies in my bed. It was a perfect day. The next morning I woke up first. I was curled into his side with my head on his chest. I remember thinking how pretty he looked when he was asleep. I couldn’t help myself. I felt like it was the right thing to do because I wanted it so badly, and when I was young I got everything I wanted, so why couldn’t I have this?” The tears began to fall.

“I leaned over and brushed our lips together. I don’t think he was completely awake, but he started to kiss back. When his eyes shot open and he pulled away. I fell off the bed. He asked what I was doing and I told him I liked him. God, I was so stupid.” The tears kept coming.

“He told me he didn’t ‘like-like’ me and then ran out of my room to the bathroom. He stayed in there for a little bit, and then came back to grab his stuff and went downstairs. I just remembered feeling like someone had punched me in the gut, like I had been slapped across the face fifty times. It hurt. I got dressed and when I got downstairs, Ethan’s parents were there and our dads were yelling. All I remember is his dad yelling, ‘I don’t want my son hanging out with a fag like yours!’ and my dad replying with, ‘Get the hell out of my house and don’t you EVER talk about my son like that again!’ Ethan’s parents grabbed him by the arms and yanked him out of the house, slamming the door behind them. I remember running up to my room crying. I didn’t understand why Ethan had been taken away from me, all I remember feeling was how unfair it was.” Blaine reached his arm up to wipe the tears on the sleeve of his jacket.

Kurt couldn’t help but to smile internally at how much he looked like Michelle had a little while ago.

“The next thing I knew my parents had come up to my room asking if I had kissed Ethan. When I nodded my head I saw my dad’s face fell. He asked why I did it and I told him I ‘like-liked’ him. My dad simply got up and left the room. My mom sat on my bed, looking stunned until she followed my dad a minute later. I felt like it was only the beginning of how bad life would be for me. I didn’t know I would be right.” The younger boy shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. He shut his eyes before continuing.

“When school started I was so excited. It was my ninth birthday, and it meant that I could see Ethan again. I hadn’t seen him since the disaster at my house. Even if we weren’t in the same class we would still have recess to hang out, or at least that’s what I thought. When recess rolled around the first day, I saw Ethan hanging out with some of the older kids. I went up to them with a huge smile on my face, hoping Ethan and I could hangout like we always did. I wasn’t expecting him to push me over and send a hard kick into my stomach. I remember hearing the laughs of the older kids around us. Ethan bent down to my face and spit on me.” Blaine opened his eyes, tears bursting out and streaming down his face.

“I still remember what he said to me that day. ‘Leave me alone you nasty fag.’ I had no clue what it meant, not until I got home that day. After the beating, I walked up to my teacher when it was time to go inside and got a pass to see the nurse. I told her I was having stomach pains, so she called my parents to come pick me up. When my mother came she was so worried. While on the way home I told her what happened and then I asked what a ‘fag’ was. She told me to ask my father. When he got home, I guess my mother had already told him what happened because he came bursting through my door and asked me to retell the story. So I did and then asked him my question.” Blaine looked Kurt right in the eyes.

“Do you know what he said to me, Kurt?” His words laced with anger.

Kurt shook his head.

“He told me that a fag was a ‘no good, dirty person who was a disgrace to the American way of life. Fags will never amount to anything and will never be welcome in this house, do you hear me?’ He continued to tell me that I was acting like one and that if I loved him, I would grow up and marry a nice girl and take over the firm.” Blaine stiffened.

“I told him I would do it, because I loved him. He just stood up and walked away. From that day on I would go to school, get my ass kicked by my ex-best friend, which left bruises on my torso and all over my back, and then come home to parents who acted like I was making it all up. I spent most of that school year in my room being ignored by my parents and hated by my schoolmates. The only person that noticed was my teacher. We kept a journal in class and every week he would collect it so he could see how our writing was coming along. Well with things going the way they were, Kurt, I…” He faltered as his breath hitched.

“I hated being someone I wasn’t for my father and I hated the bullying. I hated myself. So one day in my journal I wrote a suicide note.” Blaine looked up at Kurt after he heard his gasp.

“Can you imagine being nine years old and not wanting to live anymore? Wishing you could end all the hurt and all the ignorance around you by just escaping it all. I barely made it through that year, Kurt. When my teacher found the note he gave it to the school counselor, who called my parents in for a discussion on why I felt that way. The bullying was uncovered and Ethan and the rest of the kids were expelled. Things at home didn’t get any better. I was still ignored, but at least I was safe at school. Of course I ate lunch by myself and when it came time for recess I started heading to the choir room. The teacher at the time, Ms. Hendrixson, welcomed me with open arms.” He smiled at the thought of her.

“She was the one who taught me how to play piano.” His smile grew as he gently brushed his fingers along the keys. “My routine was the same even in middle school. Survive class, eat lunch with the choir teacher, play some piano, survive more class and then go home to be ignored and wait for the day to start all over again. The only time it changed was when Michelle was born halfway through my fifth grade year. I basically raised her. My parents could ignore me all they wanted, but it seemed to be a growing habit as Michelle got older. She became my everything. To this day there is not a thing I wouldn’t do for her.” More tears found their way down his face, but he was still smiling.

“My life changed drastically once more by the time I reached high school. It was the first time I had seen Ethan since he was expelled. I got pushed around a lot in the first few weeks of my freshman year, but one day something just snapped. I was walking down the hallway when I was pushed into some lockers and I couldn’t help myself. All of a sudden, I grabbed whichever jock that had pushed me and shoved him hard into the lockers across from me; threatening that if he were to ever do it again he would regret it. When I got home that day, I found my uncle’s old leather jacket he gave me for my 12th birthday, so I put it on and suddenly I wasn’t me anymore. I wasn’t the quiet Blaine who let everyone push him around. No. I became the school’s resident badass and have been feared ever since.” Blaine wiped his eyes a few times before looking back at Kurt.

“And there you have it, Mr. Hummel. The ever so tragic tale of one Blaine Anderson.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Any questions?” he asked with a smirk.

Kurt thought for a moment.

“Why didn’t you do anything when Michelle was getting bullied? And how the hell did you get that black eye?”

“Ahhh, I can kill two birds with one stone answering this.” The younger smiled. “The black eye was from getting into a fight with Ethan. His little brother is the little shit that has been picking on Michelle, and when I heard that the little fuck was doing it because his brother told him to, well let’s just say I had to let big brother have it.” He laughed a little.

“Well, how come when you heard her scream you didn’t do anything?!” The brunet asked, flabbergasted.

Blaine’s face fell. “I froze,” he said quietly. “Seeing her get picked on and crying brought it all back to me. This fucking school, that fucking kid, and my sweet baby sister the victim of it all. Just because I’m the family fuck up.” The glistening of new tears were in his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall, so he bowed his head in shame.

“You aren’t a fuck up, Blaine,” Kurt whispered.

Blaine smiled as he looked up at his teacher. “I don‘t know about that.” His smile faltered.

“I just have one more question,” Kurt asked shyly.

Blaine cocked his head as he waited for Kurt to ask his question.

“Did you write that song you were playing earlier?”

Blaine nodded as his cheeks flared red.

“What is it about and who was it for?”

Blaine smiled. “Me.”