Kurt Hummel was a lonely boy, but he didn’t mind. After all, he kind of brought it upon himself, but he doesn’t care. He was comfortable, content.

Kurt Hummel was a silent boy. If you asked about this to any of his fellow classmates, they’d say “Oh, yeah, that dude never talks.” While this is true, for he never utters a word at school or in public, he talks to his father, Burt. Only quiet short sentences, but talks, nonetheless. He wasn’t always this way, though. He used to be quite the chatterbox, loud and bright, singing to Disney songs and telling everyone about how beautiful his mother was. But that changed when he was 8. The kids in his grade remember well, how Kurt disappeared from elementary school for a week, and when he came back, he was silent. He hasn’t uttered a word or made a sound since.

The Kurt Hummel mystery was soon forgotten, as kids that age quickly forgot such things as soon as the day was over. No one really cared or paid attention in Elementary school, but middle school was something different. Middle school is hard. It’s when puberty sets in, when everyone is growing up, sliding into certain cliques. Everyone becomes meaner, harsher, because they want to act older. They ridiculed and bullied Kurt for being a so silent. He was an easy target, for he never fought back. And then one day, somehow, they found out that Kurt was gay. How they found out, Kurt will never know, but they did, and he never heard the end of it.

Kurt would come home crying, so when it was time to go to High School, Burt transferred him to Dalton Academy, a private school with a zero-tolerance bullying policy. The tuition was steep, and Burt was struggling just after the first year, but Kurt, being the excellent student he is, gained a scholarship at the end of freshman year. No one bothered Kurt at Dalton. Sure, some people stared at him in the halls during freshman year, but everyone soon got used to it. He sat at his desk quietly, neatly writing down notes and handing in assignments. At lunchtime he sat by himself, perfectly content, listening to his iPod or reading a book of some kind. No one gave him a second glance, but he didn’t mind. He was used to this, and honestly, it was perfectly fine. He wasn’t silent because he was sad. Well, at first it was, but over time, when you haven’t spoken in years, you kind of forget how to talk. And besides, Kurt had no reason to talk. No one came up to talk to him. No one dared to talk to the silent boy. They all... avoided him. And he was fine with that.

Kurt Hummel wasn’t a lonely boy, especially since someone “dared to disturb the silence”.

His name was Blaine Anderson

Introduction: Blaine

Everyone also knew Blaine Anderson. Well, knew of him. He was the lead singer of the Warblers, had one of the highest GPA’s in his Grade, helped out in the library, the AV club, the Art club, had a brief stint on the football team and was an all-around-nice-guy. He was always smiling, was friendly to everyone. Everyone knew him, of course. How could you not? This boy may be short in height, but his persona was anything but.

Blaine Anderson was also gay, but the astonishing thing about it, was that no one really cared. At a school like Dalton, no one really judged you by it. It was like “Hey, you’re gay, whatever; you’re still an awesome guy.” When Blaine realised this, he nearly burst into tears.

Blaine was a transfer. He transferred to the Dalton School for Boys half-way through sophomore year. He was chased out of his old school, a public school, because of homophobic bullying. He stuck it out for a while, but there is something about being bashed into a concussion that pushes you over the edge, and you realise you have to leave the hell hole.

Blaine Anderson knew Kurt Hummel. Well, he knew of Kurt Hummel. Everyone did. He’s never actually spoken to the boy, but he’s seen him in his classes; in the halls; the library; the dining hall. In his first few months, Blaine would try to smile at him in the hallway—he smiled at everyone. Always smiling—but Kurt seemed to avoid eye contact with everyone, he never saw the kind pull of the lips, so Blaine stopped, let him be. But this changed. Of course it did, or else there’d be no story.

OPENING SCENEBlaine rushed down the hallway, holding onto his satchel strap as it flew behind him. His curly hair was disarray, with no traces of gel in it at all, tie still loose. He was looking very un-Blaine like. You see, Blaine Anderson was late. He stayed up too late practising for his very important Warblers solo for today and slept in. Now kids, here’s a lesson learned: Don’t stay up too late singing, or you’ll be late, late for a very important date.

Blaine was nearly to his locker when he collided into something. No, someone. Satchels were let go, books were dropped on feet and heads were banged together.

“Oh!” Blaine gasped, as he bent down to pick up the other boy’s books. “I’m so, so sorry. Je cours en retard, and I really shouldn’t be running down the hall, but I was anyway... Je suis tr�s stupide! Here, let me help you.” And... he was speaking French. Great.

While Blaine was rambling, he stacked books (a brown, leather-bound notebook, an old and battered copy of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo and fashionable striped binder) in some sort of order, he noticed that his victim still hadn’t spoken. Two pale, slender hands reached out and grabbed the books from Blaines tan ones. He looked up and stared straight into the most beautiful and clear blue/grey eye’s he’s ever seen. He tore his gaze from the mesmerising eyes, and there stood Kurt Hummel, books hugged to his chest, looking slightly annoyed. His soft hair was stylishly coiffed, his face pale and smooth and a fashionable scarf adorned his neck. Was he always this beautiful? Blaine thought. Of course he’s never seen him so close before, only from a distance. Sure, he always thought the boy had porcelain features, but never was able to see him close enough to notice his dark eye lashes, his wonderful blue/grey eyes, his flawless skin or even that quite delectable cologne he was wearing.

“I-I’m so sorry, Kurt. Tu Pardones moi, s’il vous plait. I mean, please forgive me. I honestly didn’t mean to.” Kurt seemed to speculate Blaines face for a moment before he sighed, tilting his head to the side. He shrugged and walked away, leaving the shorter, dapper man by himself in the hallway.

Or maybe, just maybe, being late once in a while isn’t such a bad idea after all. In fact, it’s quite good for you.