It was 12pm and Kurt was getting ready for bed. He was exhausted.

He had had Glee Club until 7pm because they still didn’t know the choreography of the song they were going to perform at the Winter Ball Dance this year.

He was nervous about it. People didn’t really like them and they hadn’t performed in front of them since that Britney Spears tribute that went so wrong. The only thing Kurt remembered about it is that they threw tomatoes and eggs at them. They had brought food to throw it at them. What did they say about them?

They aren’t nice people, yes, you can tell that. But Kurt felt animals described them better. Fucking gorillas.

He had done his moisturising routine, had cleaned his teeth and was on his boxers now, ready to go to bed. 

He took a look at himself in the mirror before lying in bed.

He was the palest person he had ever seen. Okay, his abs were good, his legs were firm, his chest was muscled and his butt looked amazing, but you could practically see through him.

INCOMING TEXT:

“I think I deserve an answer”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Excuse me?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“You’re excused.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“…Silly.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Are you flirting with me?”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Sorry I didn’t know calling someone silly was flirting. That’s new to me. Also how would I flirt with you when I don’t even know who you are. You could be a teacher. Anyway, an answer? to what?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“What if I was Mrs. Oliver? Could you imagine that?What if I was him and I was now in my underwear, lying in bed and touching myself thinking of you.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“What if I slapped you for putting that image in my mind.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“I would pay to see that.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Would you?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“No, I was just kidding you.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Well okay, but can you please answer my question? What answer do you deserve?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot. I think I deserve to know for who was the note you put into my locker.”

Kurt laughed out loud. He then realized his father was probably sleeping upstairs so he covered his mouth with his free hand and sat up in the end of his bed.  

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Oh hell no, I don’t think you do.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Okay then so I think this conversation is over.”

Kurt put his mobile back in his night stand and got inside his bed.

Texting a random stranger was probably the most ridiculous thing he had ever done. He sure enjoyed it, but it was also scaring. He didn’t know anything about the other person, nor even the name. Or the sex. Or anything. But that made him more curious. He wanted to know more.

The guys from the Glee Club were the only friends Kurt had ever had. They were incredibly nice to him and he had found in them a second family. But he had never really told anyone about his life. He missed having a best friend or someone he could trust anytime. Sure they would listen to him and give him advice or try to cheer him up if something happened to him, but he didn’t feel like telling them about his life. He loved them, but in a familiar way. And you don’t always tell everything to your family, you know.

Also Kurt missed having someone to love. He had never been kissed. He had never had a boyfriend or a one-night stand. He had never been given flowers. He had never walked down the street holding hands. He had never introduced Burt any boy who could be a great husband in a future. He had never been intimate with anyone. He had never slept with anyone and no, I don’t mean having sex, I mean sleep. Sleeping next to someone, cuddling, staring at each other all night long and waking up the next morning with a hand in your waist and a “Good morning, prince”. He had never experienced love apart from loving Finn from afar. And now, he wasn’t sure if that was really love.

The cold sheets were surrounding his bare skin and he was shivering now. There’s nothing he hated more than cold nights. They made him feel lonely.

Maybe this was his chance.

The mobile’s glowing screen made Blaine wake up. He rubbed his eyes and pulled the sheets over him. He checked the clock on his nightstand. It was not even 8am yet. He picked his phone and read the message with one eye opened.

INCOMING TEXT:

“Finn.”

Maybe it was too early to think or he was still too sleepy to think, but he didn’t get it.

OUTGOING TEXT:

“What?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“It was for Finn. The note was for him.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Ohhh. The boy is kinda dumb for what I’ve seen. So you like him.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Yes.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“And you were trying to make a move.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Yes.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“So you’re a girl.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“I’m not telling you.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Or maybe you’re a boy.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“I said I’m not telling you.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“So sad. We could have great sex.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“What makes you think I’d like to have sex with you?”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“I’m superhot, so you’ll probably want to.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“…”

“Anyway, why don’t you tell me about you.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Why would I trust you?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Well, you know, I’ve been thinking…”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“That explains the smoke.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Shut up and let me finish. Since we don’t know who we are, even if we had information of each other, we wouldn’t be able to spread it or tell the world. So I don’t see any harm in knowing more about each other but keeping it anonymous.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Okay. But then..will we ever know who we are?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“No. Or at least I’m not telling you who am I. Look, I’ve been always looking for someone I could tell about my worries, tell about my dreams and hopes and won’t get judged or looked weirdly and I don’t know why, but I feel this could be it. I feel I could trust you.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Hell yeah, me too. I don’t think I’ve ever had any real friend and I’ve always felt like I needed one.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“So maybe that’s it. We could be friends.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Nice. Well I gotta go dress or I’ll be late for class. See you at school (because I’ll probably, but don’t get mad at me if I don’t say hi)”

Blaine got up and set the mobile phone to charge. He didn’t want his battery to be over when the day hadn’t even started.

He really felt we could use a real friend for a change. And maybe he had found one.

He smiled at himself. It was nice being happy for once.

He put his iPod on the speakers and let the music flow through the room. He danced along to Brotherhood of Man for a few minutes. He could feel the stage lights warming his face, the audience cheering him, he never mistook a step.

“Blaine, turn that fag music down!!!” his father shouted angrily from downstairs.

And there was it, his performance was over.

“Whatever.” Blaine whispered to himself as he turned down the music.

His father always found a way to make everything worse.

Oh wait, I have to pick up Rachel today for school.

Yes, this could get worse.

Late that morning, in French class, Kurt and Blaine sit next to each other. They had been doing that for years now, but they have never really talked. Or so they think.

Kurt was once again the first to text.

OUTGOING TEXT:

“So tell me something about you.”

Everyone was using their mobiles during French classes. Well, in every class. And no one really cared about what the other person was doing on it, but Kurt didn’t wanted his classmate Blaine to read this conversation, so he titled his mobile, making sure he wouldn’t read it and kind of weird, Blaine did the same thing.

I’m not interested in you, shithead. Kurt thought rolling his eyes.

INCOMING TEXT:

“I’m dating someone.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“For how long?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“A while now.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“That’s cute.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“But the thing is…i don’t love the person.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“What?? Then why are you dating??”

INCOMING TEXT:

“I can’t break it up.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Why is that?”

“Wait, are you pregnant?!?!?” 

Blaine stifled a laugh.

INCOMING TEXT:

“What, no! It’s just that my parents wouldn’t like it and I don’t want them to be disappointed. Also the person is hot. And hot people should date hot people”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Oh yes, that’s so mature and logical.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Don’t get mad at me, pretty person.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“You don’t know that.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“That you’re pretty? Sure I don’t know, but I can feel it.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Thanks then.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Now it’s your turn. Tell me something about you.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Well…i hate cold nights, but I love cold showers in the morning. I like Caesar salad dressing, but don’t get me started on how much I hate vinaigrette dressing. Chocolate is probably my addiction and there’s nothing that makes me happier than singing along to my favourite songs in the car.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“So if I see someone singing like a fool inside the car in the parking lot, I will assume it’s you.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“Well no. I don’t sing in the parking lot.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Such a disappointment. And are you dating someone?”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“No.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Have you recently broken up with someone?”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“No.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Have you ever dated someone?”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“No.”

INCOMING TEXT:

“Well I could fix that.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“What?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“I could introduce you to any of the single friends I have.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“That’d be cheating. We have to remain anonymous, remember?”

INCOMING TEXT:

“You choose: being a virgin forever or getting to enjoy wonderful sex forever.”

OUTGOING TEXT:

“I like my virginity, thanks.”

The bell rang and automatically, everyone got up.

“N'oubliez pas de faire les exercices 4 et 8 pour demain!” said the teacher.

“What the fuck did she just say?” thought Blaine out loud.

“She said we should do the exercises 5 and 6 for tomorrow.” Kurt replied with a smirk.

“Thanks, Kurt.” He winked at him and then got away from class, reading something from his mobile.

Blaine winking at me?? Blaine Anderson being nice??? What a joke, man.

Kurt was left mouth opened. Now he felt kind of bad for him because he was going to do the wrong exercises. But the guy deserved it.

When Kurt was almost done taking all the books for the next class, he received a message.

INCOMING TEXT:

“I’m skipping class, would you?”