"Blaine, honey, you're going to be late!"

Blaine jumped at the sound of his mother's voice, tangling the ends of the tie he'd been tying. He sighed, separating the strands so he could begin again. Tying the tie properly this time, he adjusted the knot and stared at himself in the full length mirror on the wall near his bedroom door. Blaine smoothed back his hair, checking that no fly a-ways had somehow managed to escape their gel prison, and then he grinned at his reflection.

It was the first day of senior year and he couldn't wait. His stomach was brimming with nerves as he turned to pick up his satchel. Today would also be the day that the new members of the Warbler council were voted on – sure it might be silly to get worked up over show choir, but Blaine had been lead soloist for the last two years and he wanted a spot on the council now too.

"Blaine Devon Anderson, your breakfast is getting cold!" his mother shouted again.

Blaine took a deep breath and then left his bedroom, clattering down the stairs and heading into the kitchen. His mother was setting down a plate of pancakes at the table as walked in.

"Good morning," Blaine greeted, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her salt and pepper hair glinted in the morning light as she moved around the spacious room. Blaine sank down into his chair and picked up the bottle of syrup nearby, pouring it onto his pancakes.

"Are you nervous about the Warbler vote?" his mother asked. Blaine nodded, taking a small bite of pancake. He couldn't risk getting anything on his uniform (and with the butterflies in his stomach, he didn't want anything coming back up). "I'm sure they'll vote for you."

"I hope so," Blaine mumbled around the food in his mouth.

"Eat up," his mother encouraged. "We have to leave in a little bit."

"You know," Blaine said after he swallowed, "it would be so much easier if you'd let me get my license."

His mother knocked over the syrup bottle as she went to put another pancake on his plate, her expression startled. "We've talked about this, Blaine," she finally replied after a long moment.

He sighed. His parents didn't want him driving because he was still a teenager. "I know that it's because of what happened to Cooper, but Mom, I'll be eighteen soon."

"Blaine, please," she whispered, her tone pleading. Blaine bit his lip, feeling bad. He shouldn't have brought Cooper up, but he wanted to get his license so badly.

It wasn't his fault that his older brother (much, much older) had been reckless behind the wheel and killed when Blaine was just a toddler. Blaine could barely recall his brother, but his parents would shut down instantly at any mention of Cooper.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Blaine apologized. "I just..."

"I know," his mother replied quietly. "Just... indulge us a while longer, okay?"

Blaine nodded, turning back to his breakfast. He ate as fast as he could, now in a rush to get to school.
He hurried his mother along, urging her out the door. The drive to school was a quiet affair and Blaine noticed his mother's white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. He felt bad about it, but hopefully it didn't mean anything for the rest of his day.

He crossed his fingers that things would go well. His mother pulled up in front of the school and parked. Blaine grabbed his bag and gave her a smile.

"Good luck," she said. "Your dad will be picking you up this afternoon."

"Okay, thanks," Blaine replied. "I love you."

His mother smiled, her eyes lighting up. "I love you too."

Blaine hopped out of the car and shut the door before heading into the school.

This was going to be the best day of his life, he just knew it.

*

The morning flew by in a flurry of new classes and school books and catching up with friends. Blaine was starving by the time he slipped into his chair at his usual lunch table. The Warblers always sat at the same table in the middle of the room and Blaine loved it, because it made them seem like they were the center of attention (and maybe they were – he'd lost count of the number of times their impromptu performances had shut the school down for hours).

He dove into his lunch, not paying too much attention as his friends slowly joined him with their own food. Jeff and Nick, two of his closest friends, sat down to his left. They'd been dating for as long as Blaine could remember – according to the other Warblers who'd gone to school with them for longer than Blaine had, none of them could remember a time when Nick and Jeff weren't together. They'd been the first friends he'd made when he'd transferred to Dalton his sophomore year.

Sebastian settled in on his right side, sitting closer than Blaine would like. Sebastian had made it no secret that he thought Blaine was attractive – he'd spent a lot of last year pursuing Blaine – but Blaine wasn't interested. He knew it was kind of silly, but the hopeless romantic in him wanted to meet an amazing guy and have him do some kind of grand romantic gesture or something. Then they'd fall in love, get married in New York and have 2.5 kids and a dog and he would perform on Broadway every night.

He'd thought about it a lot.

The table grew louder as the boys talked about the classes they'd had so far that day – Trent, David and Thad all had the same English class and apparently hated it.

Blaine finished up his lunch while the others talked, just content to sit and listen. He was still a little hungry and caught sight of the chocolate chip cookies sitting on Nick's tray. He filched one without Nick noticing (as if he would take his eyes from Jeff for that long), taking a bite and relishing it as the taste of chocolate filled his mouth. Perfect.

He finished off the cookie and took a sip from his milk carton.

"You know, I can't believe they still do this," Sebastian said, taking the carton from Blaine's hands and turning it.

"Do what?" Blaine asked.

"Put missing kids on the milk cartons," Sebastian answered. "I mean, seriously, how many of these kids have they actually found?"

Blaine shrugged. "Even if it gets one kid back to his parents, then it's worth it, right?"
The rest of the group had apparently started paying attention to their conversation, chiming with their own opinions.

"Okay," Sebastian said, his tone teasing as he talked over the rest of the group. "Everyone be on the lookout for today's victim. His name is Blane Danvers and he went missing when he was three. He was last seen in Lima, Ohio, about 14 years ago."

The bell rang and Blaine snatched his milk carton back, drinking it down. He was just about to toss it in the trash can on his way to class when he caught sight of the face on the side and he froze.

If he didn't know any better, he'd swear he was looking at a younger version of himself.

*

Blaine couldn't think, could barely catch his breath as he darted into the bathroom, the milk carton clenched in one hand.

He slipped into the handicapped stall on the end and sank down to the floor, staring at the cardboard box that had just rocked his world.

Blaine concentrated on taking deep breaths and calming down. Surely there was a logical explanation for this. His hands shook as he ran them over his hair, attempting to get himself together.

It wasn't him. It couldn't be. Blaine had two loving parents and they worked great jobs and they had a nice house and they loved him very much and they would never, ever kidnap anyone.

He examined the picture critically. It was a terrible photo, black and white printed on thick cardboard which didn't do the image any favors. The boy clearly had dark hair and dark eyes (hazel, the description said), and was wearing a dark colored shirt with a bowtie.

He laughed (maybe a little hysterically) as he studied it. Of course it wasn't him. He just happened to look a little bit like the boy in the picture – enough that it freaked him out a little. Okay, yeah, their names were similar, but it was different spellings and different last names (and surely Blaine would remember if he'd had a different name). Plus, he was positive he'd never even been to Lima.

He laughed again, this time at himself. He was being ridiculous.

He let himself out of the bathroom stall and strode over to the sink. Blaine fixed up his tie and splashed some water on his face, drying it off with some paper towels. He chucked them in the trash and adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. The milk carton stared at him from the side if the sink where he'd set it, almost as if it was mocking him.

Determined to put it out of his head, he picked it up and moved to toss it in the trash. His hand held the carton over the trash can and Blaine told himself to just drop it in and let it go.
He just... he couldn't stop staring at the picture.

Without giving it a second thought, he went back to the sink, rinsed the carton out and then tore it so it could lay flat. He dried it off and then dug in his satchel for his binder, tucking the carton in one of the side pockets. He put the binder back in his bag and then took a deep breath.

Out of sight, out of mind.

*

Blaine passed the afternoon by focusing on his classes and never, not even once, thinking about that milk carton tucked away in his bag.

It was finally time for Warbler practice, so Blaine made his way through the crowded hallways toward the senior commons, where the practices were held. He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, nerves flowing through him. He really, really hoped he got picked to be on the council.

Blaine walked inside and took a seat beside Jeff, staring at the front of the room, where last year's council stood. David and Thad would still be on the council this year, but Wes had graduated and it was his spot that needed filling.

Wes called them to order, smacking his signature gavel. The former Warbler was visiting just for the election – per Warbler tradition. He would be handing down the gavel to the new council. Everyone quieted down as Wes went into his speech, talking about how much he'd loved being a Warbler and how fulfilling it was to be on the council. He extolled the responsibilities of the position and then smiled.

"So, gentleman, let's put it to a vote."

Sebastian was also in the running, along with Nick and it was them that Wes asked for votes on first. There were a few hands raised for each of them, but not that many. Blaine closed his eyes. He could win.

When Wes called Blaine's name, most of the boys in the room raised their hands.

Blaine could hardly believe it.

He'd won.

*

It wasn't until he was in the car with his father, driving home, that he remembered the milk carton. He'd already told his dad the exciting news about being voted to the council and as a result, his parents were going to take him out to dinner.

Then he'd caught sight of his father out of the corner of his eye and began to study his father's features despite himself. He'd never really sat down and tried to figure out which parent he looked like before, and while he and his dad had similar coloring, Blaine honestly couldn't really say that he looked like him.

He bit his lip and told himself he was being ridiculous.

He was Blaine Anderson, son of Susan and Bill Anderson of Westerville, Ohio. Blane Danvers was a boy who went missing fourteen years ago and it had absolutely nothing to do with him.