Morning came all too soon. He groaned loudly and pulled his blankets over his head when the maid entered the room the next morning.

"Blaine," she said pulling the heavy curtains open, "your father is expecting you in his office fully dressed in thirty minutes."

"Fuck him," Blaine said. He burrowed farther into the covers and immediately passed back out.

Next thing he knew, he was jarred awake by the warm blankets being ripped off of him. A firm hand took hold of his arm and yanked him forcefully out of the bed. Blaine didn't have to guess to know who it was.

"Fucking let go of me," he growled.

"Language," his father chided as he let go. "You were told to be up and in my office over an hour ago. I don't have time to deal with your bullshit today, Blaine. Go."

With a harsh shove, the teen was marched out of his room and down the stairs. The doorbell sounded only moments after they entered his father's office.

"Try to make yourself look like you have not just rolled out of bed," his father sighed before walking back out.

Like that'll happen, Blaine thought. His curly hair could only be tamed with gel. Plus, his father hadn't even let him put a shirt on. The only thing the teen wore was a loose pair of sweat pants.

Sighing, he flopped down in his favorite chair to wait. Since he was only ever in his father's office when he was in trouble, the irony in having a favorite chair was not lost on him.

It took less than a minute for the man to return; the front door was just outside his office. Following him was a woman Blaine would have recognized anywhere.

She was older, but still just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. Her dark, curly hair, which was shorter than he remembered, fell messily around her face. Her skin, like his, was naturally tanned. The only real difference he could see was her clothing. Instead of perfect make up and the latest fashion like in pictures from his childhood, his mother's face was makeup free and she simply wore jeans and a tee-shirt that read "New Directions" on it. She was smiling tentatively.

"Blaine," she said softly when she laid her hazel eyes on him. Amazement shone through her eyes as she silently took his appearance in.

Pissed, he glared at her harshly. "Don't fucking talk to me," he growled.

"If I have to tell you one more time to-," his father started to say.

"I don't fucking care!" Blaine shouted over him. Turning on his mother, he continued, "You're a fucking bitch. There's no way in hell I'm living with you."

"You don't have a choice, Blaine," his father sighed. "We've been over this. You're out of Dalton for the year, and I'm never here, and I don't trust you enough to bother with sending you to any other schools in town."

"Make Dalton let me back in," Blaine pleaded with his father.

"I'm doing what I can, Blaine. It's going to take time, and you can't sit around the house all day while you wait. Besides, I think public school will do you some good," his father said.

Blaine blanched at the idea of going to public school. "Public school? Her and public school! You're fucking joking right?"

"No, Blaine, he's not. You'll be going to school with Rachel," his mother said.

The name threw him. Who the fuck is Rachel, he thought. "Like hell."

"*Damn it, boy!" his father said. "You're going that's final. I don't have time for your shit today. I've got a plane to catch, and you don't have a choice. Stop arguing and get your ass moving."

"Fine, but I'm back the moment Dalton allows me back in." Then he turned back to his mother and said, "Don't expect me to follow any fucked up rules you come up with. You lost the right to have any say so the moment you walked out of my life."

He left the room to get dressed.

"He's changed," he heard her say quietly.

Blaine didn't wait around to hear his father's reply.

He took his time with showering. Then he forced the maid too cook him a full breakfast. He made sure to eat as slowly as possible.

His parents were still in his father's office when he finished procrastinating. His father was glaring at him. Blaine could tell the man was getting frustrated with him.

Good, he deserves to be inconvenienced, Blaine thought.

"Keys," his father said. He held an open palm out toward Blaine.

"W-what?" Blaine stuttered out.

"Give me your keys."

The question came out of his mouth before he could stop it. "How will I drive without them?"

A bark of laughter left his fathers lips. "You really think you'll have access to you car? Tell me Blaine, what have you done to deserve that privilege?"

"I really fucking hate you sometimes," Blaine said.

"Stop with the melodrama, and just give them to me."

He took the keys out of his pocket and threw them across the desk. They landed in about the middle, but continued to slide off the edge. A deep scratch was left behind on the polished oak. Blaine smirked at the mark; his father shot a venomous glare at him.

"He's all yours, Melissa. Good luck," his father said.

"I guess I'll see you soon, Richard," she said before walking to her car.

Blaine followed her out the door without saying goodbye.

At first, Blaine's mother attempted conversation. Blaine would either grunt in response or ignore her all together. She gave up before they made it out of Westerville.

The radio, which was set to a light rock station, played softly in the background. He attempted to drown out the tension in the car by watching the trees pass as they drove. There wasn't a lot to look at between the two places, and the closer they got to Lima, the more rural it became.

Finally, she parked the car in the driveway of a small two story house. The house was at least fifty years old, and when he looked around, Blaine realized all the houses were older.

"Let's get inside and have some lunch," Melissa said. "Then we'll get you settled in."

"Whatever," he said.

She made a couple of sandwiches for them, before sitting at the bar. After being beckoned over, Blaine sat on one of the stools next to her.

"I know this is going to be hard for you," she said as they ate.

Well, she ate. Blaine picked at his sandwich. He was still full from the massive breakfast he had barely two hours before.

"You'll have rules, and we don't have a maid. You'll be expected to do chores."

Blaine grunted at her before pushing the plate away.

Melissa sighed. "Come on, I'll show you where your room is. Then you can start unpacking. We'll talk later."

He followed her up the stairs. His room (hopefully for only a few weeks) was just off the landing. Why he expected anything larger than his closet was beyond him, but seeing the size of the room was shocking.

"You can redecorate however you want," Melissa said before leaving him alone.

That was good news, because the beige walls and frilly blanket had to go, preferably sooner than later.

It didn't take long to unpack. Most of his things were left behind since he didn't know his car was going to be taken. Wes would definitely be making a trip to Lima so Blaine could pack up the rest of his things. Or at least what could fit into the car.

Before he had finished putting his things away, he heard loud footsteps on the stairs and voices from the hallway.

"I can't believe he did that!" A girl shrieked. "The nerve of him, stranding us there like that. Your brother is the most selfish human being I've ever met."

"What am I supposed to do about it?" A boy answered her.

Curious about what was happening, Blaine opened the door.

A short girl, with long brown hair and possibly the worst clothing he had ever seen on anyone and an ungodly tall boy were being ushered into the seats on the landing by Melissa.

"What happened?" she asked the two unknown teens softly.

"Cheerio Kurt happened, that's what. He left Finn and I without a ride, and he knew I had voice lessons today! I swear he does it on purpose," the girl screeched.

Her voice was quickly becoming irritating, and Blaine really hoped she wasn't the Rachel Melissa has mentioned earlier.

"Puck's having a party so some of the Cheerios skipped practice today," the boy, Finn said.

"You mean the Unholy Trinity and their ringleader skipped practice. No one else would risk Sue's wrath."

"I really wish you wouldn't call them that, Rachel," Melissa said.

So she was "Rachel", damn his sentence in this hick town was going to be a cruel form of torture.

"When they show an ounce of decent humanity I might," Rachel said. "He still should have said something to you at least! You do live with him," she ranted.

"Kurt and I barely talk."

On they went for another ten minutes at least complaining about the Cheerios, whoever they were. Why a group of people wanted to be named after breakfast food completely alluded him, but to each his own.

After a while, Melissa seemed to realize he was there. By that time he was leaning against the door frame watching them with mild amusement.

"Rachel, Finn, this is Blaine," she said. "Blaine, this is my step-daughter Rachel and her boyfriend Finn."

Rachel turned and smiled brightly at him. Blaine really wished she hadn't.

"Oh, it's so wonderful to meet you Blaine. You're absolutely going to love being here. And I'm sure you'll love McKinley too. I'm honestly very excited. I'm captain of the New Direction, thats our glee club. I know you sang lead at your old school, and having you here…"

He stopped listening. Rachel had to be the single most annoying person he had ever met. There was a good chance those assault charges would become murder charges if he had to spend too long around this girl.

"…So you'll come to glee club Thursday, right?" she asked.

"I'll think about it." He had no intention what-so-ever about joining.

"Perfect."

After that, Finn was sent home because apparently Melissa wanted to finish their conversation from earlier. Now it involved Rachel and her husband Roy.

"So, Blaine, as Melissa said, things here are going to be different that you're used to. First thing, no smoking, no drugs, and you will not use swear words under this roof."

He definitely would not be following a single one of those rules.

"Curfew is at ten on school nights and midnight on weekends. You break it, it does get shortened. If you start failing classes or skipping school, you won't be allowed out. You with me so far?"

Prison for poor people, that's what this is, Blaine thought. Blaine barely followed the rules his father set, if this man thought he would be following his insane rules, he had something else coming. He nodded his head to appease the man though.

"Good. Your chores will include keeping your room and the hall bathroom clean. You'll do your own laundry, and help Rachel keep the loft picked up. We rotate kitchen duties, Rachel has tonight, then you'll be after her. You and I will trade off on taking the garbage out, and you'll help me with yard work."

Mr. Berry finally finished talking, much to Blaine's relief. Luckily, he didn't have to do anything other than nod in acknowledgment.

The 'family' dinner that followed had to be one of the most awkward meals of his life. Melissa kept asking questions about his life. If she really wanted to know she would have stuck around, Blaine thought. Rachel and her father spent the whole time discussing her glee club and the boy (Chris?) that stranded her.

He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow after that. He barely survived half a day with these people. God only knew how he was expected to live here, let alone attend their backwoods school for an extended amount of time.

Quinn, Santana, and Brittany were waiting for Kurt next to his Navigator after his third period class. They had decided to cut during lunch. The four of them needed time to shop and dress for the party, which started around eight.

Apparently, they had the same idea to ditch the required Cheerios uniform for street clothes.

"It's about time you got your ass here, Porcelain," Santana said when she noticed him.

"Coach Roz held my class up. We had some stupid lab," Kurt apologized. He pressed the unlock button on his key.

The four of them climbed into the car as Quinn said, "I hated that lab. It was not on my list of things to do at nine in the morning."

Kurt grimaced. The chemicals they had to light on fire smelled atrocious. Combined with the group that kept lighting other objects (such as erasers) on fire, he was convinces that was the worst lab this year.

Putting all thoughts of school away, Kurt started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

After a quick stop at The Lima Bean, the group started their short trip to Columbus. Thee group sang along to the radio and discussed possible outfits. With Kurt driving at a spell that would give his father another heart attack, they made it to the Columbus mall in just under an hour and a half.

Unlike the sad excuse for a mall in Lima, the stores, while not exactly designer, were much higher quality. Express was better than Old Navy any day. Finding the perfect outfits went better than Kurt expected. He ended up with black skinny jeans from Guess that accentuated his ass perfectly, a grey top and black vest from Express, and new black Doc Martins.

Quinn ended up with a skin tight little black dress and heals with silver glitter. Santana of course got a red number and gold shoes, and Brittany got a bright blue dress and black shoes.

By the time they had finished hunting down accessories, including jackets and purses to match the girls dresses, Kurt was starving. He stopped at an Olive Garden just before leaving Columbus.

"At least their food is edible," Santana joked as they walked inside.

She was right. It was nice to actually eat at an Italian place where the food wouldn't kill you, he thought.

"You left me!" Finn yelled the moment the group arrived back at Kurt's house.

The gangly teen had been waiting on the front stoop when Kurt pulled into the driveway.

"I told you this morning, I was going to the mall directly after practice," Kurt shoved passed his stepbrother. "I'm home, Dad!" he said as he went past his father's office.

Finn trailed behind him as he led the girls up the stairs and to his room.

"You didn't even go to practice today," Finn said.

"So I skipped practice, that doesn't change that I told you I couldn't drive you home," Kurt explained with an exasperated sigh.

His stepbrother was so dimwitted.

"Rachel was late to her voice lessons. We waited for you for an HOUR!"

"Stop yelling, Lumps McGee. No one cares about you and your Hobbit girlfriend. Porcelain and I had things to do," Santana said. "Now fuck off, you're giving me a headache." She then slammed Kurt's bedroom door in his face.

Kurt, Quinn, and Brittany laughed.

"Well, now lets get a move on," Kurt said.

An hour later they headed back out the door,

"Where are you going, Kurt?" his father, Burt, said as they descended the stairs.

"Puck's house for a bit."

"It's a school night."

"Homework is done, and I won't stay out too late, promise."

The man nodded, and allowed him to leave.

"No drinking!" Burt yelled behind him.

"I won't!" Kurt fired back just before closing the door.

He lied. Not even two minutes after walking through Puck's front door, Kurt had a drink in his hand.

The loud music thrummed through him as he sat on the counter flirting with a kid named Chandler. The boy went to school with Puck's cousin. He was cute in an innocent, naive way.

"Come dance with me," Kurt said sliding off the counter.

"I-I don't really…" Chandler stammered.

Ignoring the boys obvious nervousness, Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled him to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room.

"What if someone doesn't like us dancing?" Chandler asked Kurt.

The Cheerio had to laugh at that. "Puck's one of my best friends, if anyone has something to say to us, they'll have to answer to him."

The boy still looked a little nervous.

Kurt held his drink out to him, and said, "Drink. It'll calm you down."

Chandler downed half the cup. He grimaced and coughed once he was done.

"Ready now?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Kurt smiled and turned around. He pressed his back against Chandler before they started dancing. Once they boy got over being shy, he was a good dance partner.

Three songs later, they were still dancing. The only time they had stopped was for Kurt to refill his drink. The more alcohol Kurt consumed, the dirtier he danced.

Not to mention he kept giving Chandler some of his drink, and the younger boy was apparently a light weight. He only had a fraction of what Kurt had, and was wasted. Wasted enough to turn Kurt around and press his lips to the Cheerios.

Just as they started to get into it, a voice interrupted them. "He doesn't seem your type, Hummel."

Kurt broke the kiss and saw Sebastian Smythe leaning against the wall next to them.

Sebastian was an asshole he had met at a few parties around town over the summer. He went to a fancy boarding school near Columbus, but lived with his grandparents in Lima. Most of the summer was spent with Sebastian trying to talk his way into Kurt's pants.

"And what is my usual type, Smythe?"

"Definitely not him," Sebastian gestured towards Chandler. "He probably doesn't even know where to stick it."

"Crass as always. I suppose you think you're my type."

"Well, how about we get out of here, and we'll find out."

"Not happening. Get some class, Smythe, and maybe I'll think about giving you a chance."

"Come on," he said and reached out for Kurt.

Kurt moved back quickly, "Just go away. You're presence is starting to get bothersome."

"You're just playing hard to get, we both know you're going to give in. It's only a matter of time."

"Do you realize how pathetic and desperate you sound? You might as well spend some of that money you've got on a prostitute."

"You're a bitch, Hummel. But don't worry, when you come around, I'll forgive you." Sebastian walked back out of the room.

Seething, Kurt turned back to Chandler only to find his companion had vanished. With a sigh, he decided it was time to leave.

He had started to sober up thanks to the unpleasant encounter, and he doubted Chandler would be up for picking up where they left off. Instead, he found Quinn, who was all over Sam on the couch and informed her he was headed out.

It was fun while it lasted, but he could always count on some asshole to ruin his night.