When Blaine was nine years old he woke up in a hospital covered in bruises, multiple broken bones, and a breathing tube down his throat. A heart monitor beeped steadily next to him. Slowly he opened his eyes, but the world spun in a blurry mess. He closed them again as the light made the pounding in his head worse. Someone was trying to talk to him but their words were jumbled together. Soon he stopped trying to stay awake, and instead welcomed the quiet blackness. Much later he woke up to learn he wasn't going home to his abusive parents. They told him he was going to live with a foster family until more permanent arrangements were to be made.

Blaine didn't quite know what to make of this unfamilar place he was suddenly forced into. He resented being thrust into a new situation that was entirely different from what he had known before. A new school, a new family with a new set of rules, and a new life. To make it worse, his new 'family' expected to be called mom and dad. Even though they weren't his parents and did not consider them as such, he did as they asked because if he did not, he was hit. Hard. You might think foster families took good care of their foster children; this was hardly the case, especially for Blaine. He was expected to cook and clean. He was their own personal maid that they did not have to pay; instead the government paid them. They threw insults at him, told him he was worthless, stupid and lazy. He started to believe their words and Blaine slowly grew silent.

A new foster family and a new set of rules. This family was completely different. While Blaine refused to speak and remained silent throughout his stay there, they readily taught him sign language. For the first time in a long time Blaine smiled. One day, Blaine looked at the piano sitting in their living room in interest and his foster parents began teaching him how to play piano. He fell in love with it and practiced every day for hours on end. After he learned how to play beyond their level they hired him a teacher. Through music he was able to express all the emotions he didn't know how to outwardly show. Most of his pieces were melancholy, rarely were they happy, but all were beautiful. Music was his to mold and he immersed himself completely in it. When his foster dad was diagnosed with cancer and the state learned it was terminal they sent him to another foster family. By this time he was eleven.

The family he lived with after was far worse than the first. The first home only tore him down emotionally. These people beat him and reminded him of the ruthless facts daily; the only reason why they took him in was for the money the state provided monthly. They only spent enough of that money to keep him alive. He was fed meagerly and Blaine grew very thin. Again he was told he was worthless every day without fail. They tried to force him to speak, and beat him when he didn't. If he attempted to communicate using his hands he was beat even harder, the lashing from the whip sometimes taking days to heal. But his voice was gone, words wouldn't form, the will to talk taken away from him so Blaine took the beatings. While this family didn't have a piano he would create music in his head and thus he found his escape. He practiced every day with a pretend piano moving his hands to the invisible keys in time to the music he had created. When his foster parents caught him doing this they hit him with a wooden paddle. So Blaine began practicing only when no one was around. But his music always stayed with him. Eventually they gave up on Blaine telling the social worker he was a useless case and didn't want him anymore. A conversation he overheard taking place on the phone while hiding behind the staircase. He stayed with this family for only five months.

It got worse and worse for Blaine after that. He never seemed to stay in a home for very long before being whisked away to another home. Always being told that he was too difficult to handle, they didn't want him, he was hopeless. One time he was placed with a family who were very homophobic. When they saw that he showed 'homosexual tendencies' they punished him for it. They put him in a box which was only big enough for Blaine to sit in. Passing the time in there, he played his imaginary music sometimes for hours. He was told he was disgusting and going to hell. Blaine tried to change who he was, he really did, but he couldn't. Blaine was once again sent to another family.

By this point he no longer talked with his hands, he had given up. No one tried to understand him so why even attempt it. He kept to himself reciting music in his head. He failed school as he was constantly going to a new one. He hadn't made a friend since he was eleven. He came to the conclusion that he couldn't be loved; he wasn't enough and never would be. He simply went through the motions of living, he never smiled, he never got angry, he never felt any emotion. He was detached to anything and everything around him. Music was his savior and no one could take away the songs he created.

A very broken fourteen year old Blaine was sent to live with a father named Burt Hummel and a son named Kurt Hummel. That's where we find him now, and where our story begins.