Author's note. I do not own Glee. This is an AU where New Directions never existed on Earth. Reviews are welcome.

Introduction: Main article:Introduction (music)

The introduction is a unique section that comes at the beginning of the piece.

Chapter One

Kurt saw a blur of red and white before a wave of purple ice slapped him in the face. Just enough time to close his locker.

"Good morning fag!" A voice sneered and others joined in laughing.

Tears rushed to his eyes, clearing out the syrup that had seeped in. Using his one hand Kurt stared to scrap what he could off of his face, flicking it all on the floor. Patting his bag with the other, he was relieved to find that his messenger bag had escaped the slushing. This time.

Kurt pulled a small face towel out and wiped his face. His nose scrunched up, it had to be grape today. Looking down, he saw that his pants had been spared also. Good.

The bell for class rang.

Breath shaky, Kurt re-opened his locker. Hanging his bag on the door he pulled off his sweater careful not to get slush on his pants.

At least it hadn't gone through to my undershirt, he thought. He balled his sweater up and put it into the plastic bag he kept in his locker for these occasions. Pulling his extra sweater out of the locker, Kurt grabbed his bag and made for the bathroom to clean up.

"Hey, why aren't you in class?"

Kurt turned around to see one of the many teachers whose name he didn't' know. "I need to get cleaned up."

"You shouldn't have been so careless," The teacher pulled a slip from his pocket, "Name?"

Kurt clenched his fists, "Kurt Hummel."

"You'll have detention Mr. Hummel, now get to class, you can clean up afterwards."

Trembling, Kurt took the slip and turned to go to class.

Useless.

Kurt turned the corner and went into the boy's bathroom. He already had detention, so who cared if he got another. He wasn't going to class while the sugary mess seeped into his pores.

His hands closed on the porcelain sink as Kurt leaned forward to peer at the mirror. Things had been different; he used to be able to wear the clothing he loved. Last year, something had changed. The slushes became more frequent and random. He wasn't about to keep spending money on clothes that inevitably were going to be ruined. So he started cutting back what he wore to school. Not a name brand in sight. Nothing that couldn't be thrown into a washing machine. And nothing white. Ever.

At least he was able to save money for when he got out of Ohio. Less than a year from now.

Taking his emergency face kit out of his messenger bag, Kurt got to work.

Ten minutes later, He was packing up. No real use going to class, he thought, fiddling with the clasp on his bag. The library was close enough for him to go hide out in until second period.

Kurt turned and made one step towards the door, when it swung open and Kurt's stomach dropped to his knees. David Karofsky, his main tormentor stood in the doorway.

Karofsky stepped forward, letting the door swing shut behind him, cutting off Kurt's exit. "Well well, this is unexpected. Hello Princess!"

Mouth dry, Kurt held his head up, stepped to the side and motioned for Karofsky to move forward.

Karofsky moved forward with the lumbering grace of a linebacker...that is none at all, backing Kurt up into the sinks. "I think it's high time we had some alone time." His hand came up and a sausage finger traced a trail down Kurt's face.

Eyes wide, his breath stuck in throat, Kurt pushed against the heavier boy to no avail. Karofsky just pressed closer, his bulk pushed up against Kurt's

"Let me go you oaf!"

A glint of something appeared in Karofsky's eyes before he grabbed a hold of Kurt's head. Kurt tried to fight him off, but couldn't.

And then he started screaming inside his head. Karofsky was kissing him. His mouth hurt from the force of the bruising kiss. Kurt started to struggle, move any part of his body.

It only seemed to make Karofsky moan in some sort of sick pleasure.

There was a crack of noise from out in the hallways that had Karofsky backing away just enough for Kurt to run out of the bathroom.

The hallways became a blur as he flew down them, out the doors and straight to his car. Nowhere was safe in that damn school. Locked in his car, Kurt finally let the tears come.

He skipped school for the first time in his life. Not the last, he thought.

Telling his dad that he was sent home for having a headache, which ironically did develop after the incident, Kurt lay in bed for most of the day. Dreaming of the day when he could leave. New York, all the way. He'd be a star on Broadway. Shelby, his voice coach for the past 3 years, said that he was nearing the end of what she could teach him. She said that he still had issues with negative tension inhibiting his abilities, but she said that would disappear with time. And with a location change, Kurt thought. Being gay in Ohio was extremely stressful.

Though his headache worsened, Kurt grabbed a travel mug and filled it with chamomile and honey tea. It would soothe his voice after the crying this morning. He may have missed school, but he wouldn't miss his vocal lessons.

Kurt parked and then made his way into the school that Shelby taught at. Not for the first time Kurt wished they had a glee club at McKinley.

There coming down the hallway bouncing towards him was Rachel, I'm a star, Berry. They went to the same school, but only really had any interaction when they met up with Shelby.

"Kurt Hummel. Have you received your NYADA letter yet?" Rachel asked.

"No Rachel, not as yet. You?" He could be polite. Because despite his burning desire to well...burn the offending outfit that Rachel wore, she was one of the more civilized members of his graduating class. That and he'd probably run into her in New York.

"No. Well good luck. You're only slightly behind me where talent is concerned; however I do concede that you belong at NYADA."

Kurt didn't even hide the roll of his eyes from her, "Good luck also Rachel, and good night. I've got lessons." He continued down the hallway.

Shelby practically threw him out of lessons that night. The negativity he carried all but closed up his throat. She couldn't work around it and suggested that he go home, do some yoga and try to relax. They'd pick up the lesson tomorrow instead.

Lucky that he didn't entirely waste a rather expensive class, Kurt tried to cheer himself up on the ride home.

Baking. That was the answer. He'd made some brownies for dessert. And a fat free lasagna. Already feeling a bit perkier he pulled into the local grocery store to pick up a few ingredients.

Grabbing a hand basket he set off. Grabbing low fat ricotta cheese, cocoa and a diet coke for himself had him heading towards the front of the store. Kurt was packing his things when a voice broke into his stream of conscience.

"Hey there Hummel. Going to do a little baking tonight?"

It was an innocent question, from a terrifying source. There standing next to him, having already finished his transaction was Karofsky.

He slapped Kurt on the back and gripped his shoulder. Not enough for anyone to be suspicious, but enough that Kurt couldn't cause a scene. "Come on, hurry up buddy."

Kurt stiffly let Karofsky guide him out of the store, head pounding and heart racing, "Let me go."

"I just want to have a little talk to you about...earlier," Karofsky said. "We didn't get to finish our discussion."

Kurt started to walk faster, towards the navigator, "There's nothing to talk about. Nothing happened."

"That's right fag, nothing happened. And no one is going to know about. If I find out you say anything, I'll kill you."

Kurt stopped next to his car, shivering from the chill still in the air and turned to face his tormentor, "Tell anyone? As if I would want anyone to know how your meaty paws were all over me."

Karofsky took a step closer, "You loved it fag. Bet it was the highlight of your sad little life."

Kurt fished into his bag for his keys. "No in fact, it wasn't. You tasted like pizza, there was no technique and it was just plain awful. I pity the girl you date. Not only do you not want her, you can't even make it half decent."

Karofsky's fist caught him upside the head, all Kurt felt was an explosion of pain. He hadn't even seen it coming. His head rang and spun at the same time. The second fist caught him in the nose; he heard the crunch of it breaking. The motioned sent him crashing back into his navigator. The alarm blissfully decided to go off as he slide down its side. He caught a boot to the chest before Karofsky walked off, leaving him there.

The world spun around him like oil mixing with water on the floor of his father's shop. Breathing was difficult; Kurt couldn't even catch his breath to start crying out for help. Dizzily he tried to stand. Something was wrong with his hearing; the alarm slipped into rhythm with whatever crazy a cappella song that was blaring over the loudspeakers at that moment.

Pressing up from the ground Kurt tried to lift himself up again, his grocery bag twisted in one hand. He tried to shake it off, but the race of pain that shot up his arm stopped him. Kurt slipped back down on the ground, head against his car.

Eyes closed to stop the spinning; he drew a labored breath and cried out, hoping that someone would hear him.

The loudspeaker seemed to get louder.

Kurt tried crying out again. What was the point of being here if all it brought was pain. I want out! He tried to rise one more time, but the ground seemed to melt away beneath him and he passed out as he fell down.

The fall of water on stone made Blaine pause. He loved rainy days. Though lately they'd been too far and few between for him to properly enjoy. The weather made him want to curl up in front of the fire with a good book and a cup of cha. Things were different now. He took a final deep breath before continuing on his way.

He passed a hand down his front, smoothing his dark blue robes before pushing open the double doors into the practice auditorium. Boys, almost men, from all four races loitered around in the matching uniforms that showed their status as students. An example was set here that the world should follow.

He made his way to two heads that were almost permanently together. Never mind what they were actually discussing. The site of their heads that close with a file in hand was enough to give anyone a pause. As Blaine got closer he could hear snippets of the conversation.

"If we move Jeff's note here..."

"And then Nick will hole here..."

Satisfied that they were only sufficiently distracted with working on the score, Blaine felt confident enough to try and sneak up and slap them on their backs.

"And then... yes, Blaine won't do that or else...then we can add a note here." Wes continued to scribble on the score as David turned to Blaine's direction with a smile.

"Hello Blaine. Thought you knew better by now," David asked.

"Never hurts to make sure you're on your toes." Blaine quipped back. "Are we almost ready?"

"Just making some last minute changes and then we can give it a try," Wes spoke up. "Have a seat; I'll let you know when we're ready to start." He twirled the gavel that was in his other hand.

Blaine eyed the gavel with trepidation. One of these days Wes was going to lose that thing and Blaine was sure he'd fall apart.

Blaine turned and took a seat while looking at the open area. Symbols had been set up ahead of time, with just waiting for the boys to take their place on the stone steps that were worn with age and tradition. Dread gripped him. Blaine clenched his hand and brushed the feeling off. He couldn't afford to give in to hysterics now. This would be their first big work since their teacher had perished over a month ago.

Spellmaster Jaminson hadn't been the best teacher, but he had been one of the most powerful teachers that the school had had in years. He was gone now and they'd been left to their own devices.

Wes's gavel echoed throughout the hall. Blaine straightened his spine and shoulders as he stood and with practiced ease slide onto the working stones along with the other, now silent boys.

"Now we're going to do a quick run through with the changes we've just talked to you about." Wes started as David closed the protective border of the platform.

Blaine watched as David hummed the final notes to the song that would enclose the boys and their workings from the rest of the school and the gold flash that came as a result.

"Warbler Thad if you would."

The black haired boy took his place at the bottom tier and started the boys in their vocal warm ups.

Blaine loved the play on colors that the sterile scales produced. Magic in the world of Glee was so beautiful, visually and audibly. And deadly. Blaine looked at the people he was surrounded by. Each of them was alive while others weren't. Untrained voices could kill. Not only themselves, but others. They were some of the lucky ones, to have almost made it to adulthood...mostly intact. They still had years to go if they wanted to achieve status as spellmaster though.

Thad closed his fist, signaling the end to the warm ups.

"Right, let's do this. If we do this right, we should bring some sunshine to the weekend. Simple," David said, motioning for Thad to continue.

Thad traced the opening for all music scores in the air and the boys inhaled in unison to sing the introduction chorus.

Dave held the focus crystal in his hands and they all watched as the colors seem to leap from it. The a cappella voices wove colors of light the bounced off the protective edge forming a dome of light around them.

The song was a short one, but Blaine felt his energy start to sap the moment they hit the second line. Lines of blue and green started to shoot into the air above them, into a vortex of some sorts. What should have been a simple working was taking a toll out of all the boys. He looked to his left and saw Nick and Jeff, both with determined looks on their faces. They'd all worked too hard to let it fail now.

As they started the final page of the score, a cold breeze picked up where none should have been. Blaine looked to Dave and Wes, they motioned for the group to continue, there were only a few notes left.

On the last note, a pure tone broke through the score, soaring up all the male voices. It was a note held in pure anguish. David released his grip on the dome that had become a golden net and the mysterious wind that had come out of nowhere pushed the boys back and a figure fell from the vortex of the next crashing down, landing on Blaine and several of the boys.

Wes looked up from the ground; nose bloody from receiving a heavy boot to the face as the body fell.

Blaine, having caught the main part of the body lay on the ground. He groaned in pain. He could feel the person who landed on him breath. "It's alive!"

Quickly Blaine turned the body over to see that it was actually a he, covered in blood and bruises. "Someone go for help, he's injured and I don't know if it's our fault or if he was like this before."

David sprang up and directed an uninjured boy to run for help.

"We shouldn't have tried this without supervision," Thad began.

Wes glared, "This really isn't the time for discussion."

"Look at what we've done!"

David laid a hand on Thad, "Thad, now isn't the time. I agree this shouldn't have happened, but it has and now we need to figure out why."

Blaine ignored the talking that was going on around him, cradling the broken boy in his arms. Holding a hand to what appeared to be a broken nose, he sang a spell to straighten and correct it. That was one spell he knew by heart.

As the cartilage snapped into place, the boy in his arms moaned and Blaine found himself staring into impossible green-blue eyes.

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