"Your Majesty, if you were a king, you wouldn't be afraid of anything?"

The crisp white shirt smells like fabric softener, and Blaine enjoys the feeling of the immaculate fabric against his skin when he puts it on first thing in the morning. He pushes each button through its hole slowly and deliberately, top to bottom, leaving the very first undone for now. He looks at himself in the mirror while he buttons his cuffs and pushes the bottom of his shirt into his pants.

Blaine likes to look effortlessly confident. As if he got up every morning already wearing his impeccable uniform and perfectly arranged hair. As if all that calm and security he radiates whenever he's in a room just came naturally to him. He frowns in concentration as he maneuvers his tie into a perfect knot, and buttons the collar of his shirt, taking another look at himself. He offers his reflection a smile, pleased with what he sees.

While he measures the right amount of gel in his hands and then spreads it evenly on his still wet hair, Blaine's left foot starts tapping the floor rhythmically, following the song that's in his brain. Today, it's Meadowlark. You can always count on Ms. LuPone to give you a good start to your day. He lets his mind wander to possible a cappella arrangements for the Warblers, and whether it'd be a good choice for Sectionals.

Blaine's brain stays in that happy place full of sheet music, baritone choruses and background dancing until it's time to leave his room and start another day in Dalton. With one last look at himself, he lets out a sigh and immediately sets his jaw, watching his face as he composes his usual relaxed expression, the very picture of a well-adjusted young man. He's been seeing this Blaine Anderson – this charming man with the flawless uniform – for well over a year now, but sometimes he still looks like a stranger to him.

Two years ago, Blaine Anderson was just your regular boy. He hung out with his buddies, went to class and had no idea what a show choir even was. He wore jeans and chucks, with t-shirts that ranged from the funny sayings to his favorite Ohio State Buckeyes one. He watched sports, went to games and was generally "one of the guys" at school. Nothing special. Nice and easy. Until Taylor Rodriguez walked into his Science class.

He was tall and muscular, a wrestler with a knack for martial arts. Taylor had an easy smile that could lit up a room, and that unmistakable air of confidence only a solid self-esteem can give. Smart and witty, he didn't hesitate before handing out a round of verbal ass-kicking but he was always ready to take criticism with a smile on his face. Everything about Taylor fascinated Blaine, and it didn't take long for them to become best friends. Three months later, Taylor came out.

It wasn't a huge moment for him. It wasn't even a proper coming out, if you ask Blaine. Someone saw him with a boy, asked him if he was gay, and Taylor answered with a succinct "Yeah", almost daring the other student to make an issue out of it. And while he didn't – not yet, anyway – Blaine sort of did. First of all, there was the fact that Taylor had been hiding the truth from him.

"Not hiding," he said with his usual calm smile, seemingly unaffected by his friend's issues, "it just didn't come up, that's all."

Blaine had never met a gay guy before. He'd never met a gay person, period. And he wasn't entirely sure he liked the fact that he'd been unknowingly spending so much time with one. "Well, it should have!" Blaine raised his voice, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the students in the hallway "You should've told me before we started hanging out!"

The smile on Taylor's lips didn't fade, but he frowned slightly as he looked into Blaine's eyes, almost as if he was trying to read his mind. "What if I'd told you?" he took a step forward, and Blaine moved away "Would you have stopped being my friend?"

His calm and confidence made Blaine want to scream. How could the homo be so sure of himself when he – a completely straight boy, thank you very much – was on the verge of a nervous breakdown? It should've been the other way around. Taylor should've been apologizing for tricking him into spending time together, but for some reason Blaine felt like he was the one who had to ask for forgiveness. He didn't. He slammed his locker shut, and he left.

The following weeks were all but calm at school. The bullying started mere hours after Taylor's reveal, and it seemed to get more and more vicious as days went by. From insults to hateful comments, graffiti on his locker and even a few violent incidents, Blaine saw his previously popular friend tumble down to the very bottom of the food chain in less than a week. For some unthinkable reason, however, Taylor kept his chin up and his smile proud, ignoring the verbal attacks and putting a stop to the physical ones. Blaine watched him talk to teachers, seemingly unfazed by their lack of concern, and walk the halls with the same confidence he had when everyone thought he was normal. Just like Blaine.

But Blaine wasn't feeling too normal, himself. He couldn't stop running through his time with Taylor over and over in his head. Wondering if every touch and smile and nice word came from friendship or lust. Trying to find signs of him wanting to turn Blaine. Combing his brain for the tiniest hint of encouragement on his part. He found none, but he still couldn't put his mind to rest. He missed Taylor more than he wanted to believe. He hurt for him, even though he knew he'd asked for it when he came out.

"Hey faggot!" The voice boomed in the hallway and Blaine turned around, even though he already knew who was the target of the insult. He looked just in time to see one of his closest friends pushing Taylor against the lockers. Blaine looked on as another boy joined in to immobilize him, feeling something between sadness and pain mixed with rage. And while normally he'd have turned around, something in the look Taylor gave him made him react.

"Leave him alone!" Blaine's friends looked at him in disbelief, their hands still on Taylor, and Blaine walked briskly towards them "I said leave him alone!" He repeated, louder this time.

They let go of Taylor as they turned around to fully face Blaine. "What the fuck, man?" One of them said as Blaine wondered why Taylor was still there. "Don't tell me he's turned you into a fag just like him!"

Blaine's eyes widened in surprise at the accusation, but his face soon changed to pure rage. "Fuck off, Cameron." And he pushed him out of his way as he walked away, eager to leave the school behind and get home, where everything was perfectly clear and there was nothing he had to be confused about.

He'd only been home for an hour when the doorbell rang, and Blaine stared in surprise when he saw Taylor standing at the door. "Thanks for standing up for me." He said, all soft eyes and calm voice, and Blaine felt better just talking to him after all that time. "That took courage." Blaine gave a non-committal shrug and Taylor allowed a silence to set before asking "Can I come in?"

Blaine looked around to make sure nobody was watching before he let him into the house. He didn't need any more rumors about him being friendly with the school homo, but for some reason he couldn't bear the thought of sending him away. After offering him some snacks Taylor politely declined, Blaine led him to his room and let him sit on his bed. The sight of the taller boy lounging comfortably on the very bed where he slept every night made Blaine's mouth dry, and he swallowed hard before speaking.

"So…" he shifted on his feet, wondering why he was once again the nervous one "What's up?"

Taylor shot him a half-amused, half-incredulous look. "Really, Blaine? You've been ignoring me for months and that's the best you can come up with?"

His smile was contagious, and Blaine found himself chuckling at his own lame attempt at conversation. "I'm sorry." He grew serious, and looked down at his feet. "For everything." Was he? His apology had surprised even himself, but Taylor looked like he'd been expecting it all along.

"Don't sweat it" he took Blaine's stuffed football and twirled it around in his hands. Blaine couldn't tear his eyes away from his long, strong fingers as they moved. "What's up with you?"

They talked until it was so late that Taylor had to sneak out of Blaine's window for fear of waking his parents. They laughed and goofed around, and Taylor kicked Blaine's ass at Medal of Honor while Blaine got his revenge when they played Resident Evil. When Taylor left, Blaine got into bed and smiled at the smell of the taller boy on his pillow. And the next day, Taylor visited again.

Blaine's first kiss was an accident. He was mercilessly beating Taylor at SingStar – who would've known he could sing? – when they lost their coordination in the middle of a dancing move, and their lips sort of touched, but not really. Taylor looked like he was ready for Blaine to punch him in the face, and Blaine's mouth hung open in complete shock.

Blaine's second kiss happened 15 seconds later, when he went for it and kissed his best friend. It was bold and sweet, slightly hesitant at first, until Taylor's hands tangled in Blaine's hair and Blaine's tongue swept across Taylor's lips, and Blaine could've sworn he was going to faint, as stereotypically girly as that may sound.

But he didn't faint, and that make-out session was followed by many more, until the day Cameron stopped by the Anderson's to ask Blaine for a game he'd borrowed. Mrs Anderson let the boy in, as she'd done countless times before since he befriended her son in kindergarten, and Cameron stared in disbelief as he opened the door to Blaine's room and found the two boys in each other's arms, and walked away after sending them a look of complete disgust.

"Cameron, wait!" Blaine pushed Taylor off him and ran after Cameron. "I can explain! Cameron!"

He reached him when Cameron was about to cross the street, and Blaine grabbed his arm to make him stop. "Don't fucking touch me, fag!" Cameron jerked his arm away and Blaine took a step back, shocked by the sudden outburst. The bullying seemed to have died down after the principal issued a warning following a particularly nasty incident, and Blaine wasn't expecting that reaction at all.

Blaine stood there in silence, watching his old friend walk away. He tried to make sense of his own thoughts. Tried to figure out what he was going to do when Cameron inevitably told everyone the next day. What would he tell his parents? What would he tell his friends? How would everyone react? If Cameron was an indication, he wasn't expecting tolerance and respect. And the thought of enduring what Taylor had gone through was almost too terrifying to contemplate.

Whatever happened the next day – he thought – right then what he needed was Taylor. He'd know what to say. He'd make him calm down just by smiling at him or sending him one of those looks that told him "Hey, it's all right. I got your back." But when he walked back into his room, Taylor had already left. And he wasn't answering his phone.

The insults started bright and early the next day. By lunch time, Blaine was determined to phone his parents and tell them he was sick and had to go home. Hiding in a bathroom stall with his lunch – and he couldn't believe he'd turned into that person – he almost dropped his sandwich on the floor when he heard Taylor's voice on the other side of the door.

"Blaine. Open the door." Blaine stayed quiet and slowly lifted his feet off the floor, hoping he'd just go away. "I can smell the cinnamon in your coffee from here, you know." Blaine sighed and unlocked the door, letting the other boy push it open. "Wow, that's… wow."

"Pathetic, I know." Blaine shrugged, feeling sorry for himself, and then frowned as he stood up. "Where the fuck did you go yesterday?"

Taylor looked him square in the eye, not a hint of remorse on his face. "You made it pretty clear you didn't want me there at the time."

"We'd just gotten caught!" Blaine exclaimed incredulously "What did you expect, huh?"

"Some proof that you're not ashamed of being my boyfriend would've been nice!"

"I'm not your boyfriend!" Blaine was screaming now, pointing accusingly at Taylor.

Surprise, pain and then anger flashed through Taylor's eyes, and Blaine realized what he'd just said. "Wait, Taylor, I meant…"

But Taylor was already walking away, and he turned around to give Blaine one last look. "I think you need some time to figure yourself out." And he left.

Over the next few months, there were many moments when Blaine almost reached for Taylor's hand. Moments when he wanted to scream that he loved him, or kiss him in the middle of the cafeteria. But those were a few moments, and the bullying was constant and merciless, getting more and more vicious by the day. The insults turned into physical harassment and then into violence, and by the end of the school year Blaine felt completely drained. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, and he most certainly couldn't get out of bed.

A sunny day of July, Taylor climbed into his room window with a carefully wrapped present in his hands. It was the Wizard of Oz on DVD, and Blaine would've smiled if he'd remembered how to do it.

"Thank you. It's my favorite."

Taylor smiled at him. "I know. You made me watch it a hundred times, remember?" He chuckled and pretended Blaine was laughing with him. "Listen, Blaine. School's over for now. We don't have to see all those assholes for two whole months." He brushed the hair away from Blaine's forehead. "Let's try again. Just you and me."

"And what about next year?" Blaine's face didn't show any feeling when he spoke. "What about after the Summer?"

"We'll deal with it together." Blaine looked away, and Taylor bit his lip. "Think about it. Please?"

Blaine gave a non-committal shrug and looked away as Taylor left, but he did think about it. He thought about it long and hard. Thought about another year of hell, and about the possibility of losing Taylor. About the insults following him along the halls and Taylor's tongue exploring his skin. And two months later, Blaine was putting on his navy blazer for the very first time. He never saw Taylor again.

The warm coffee smells like cinnamon and Blaine holds the cup with both hands, letting the warmth fight that Ohio cold that's beginning to get serious once more. He shoots smiles left and right as he walks along the corridors of Dalton Academy, high-fiving fellow Warblers and exchanging greetings with the rest of the navy-clad students around him.

He's a new man. He walks with his head up high, and belts out solos like he's been doing it for years. He's gay and it's not an issue. He has regrets but he's not letting what happened two years earlier hold him down now. Walking into his first class of the day, he remembers his favorite song from his favorite movie and smiles as the picture of that boy from McKinley High pops into his brain. He pulls out his phone and writes just one word.

"Courage."

"What makes a king out of a slave? Courage!"