Author's note: This is my attempt at a multi-chapter story. Takes place in the second season, sometime right after Puck gets out of Juvie. Told from Kurt's point of view, but I have Blaine's point of view written as well, which I guarantee is very different than this.
~.~.~.~
Glee Club began as it normally did: with a healthy dose of drama.
It was something that all of us had become acquainted with since we joined, and some of us (*cough*, Rachel) liked to cause on a weekly basis. We took it in stride, accepting that it was one of the byproducts of mixing so many different cliques together, but some weeks were just worse than others.
Take now, for example.
Puck presently stormed into the choir room, looking livid as a bull. I could practically see the steam huffing from his flared nostrils as he dropped into a chair, arms crossed and expression menacing.
"I like to keep the 'glee' in 'Glee Club' as much as the next girl, but what is your problem?" Mercedes demanded from her seat beside me.
"That new kid is the problem!" Puck quipped immediately, as if he'd been waiting all day for someone to ask him. "He's ruining my reputation as McKinley's resident badass!" He kicked the empty chair beside him with his boot-clad foot, making it screech across the floor.
"You mean that Anderson guy?" Santana gasped, fanning herself. "Now that's a hunk I wants a bite of!" Brittany giggled.
I rolled my eyes at their simplicity; often times it seemed like I was the only mature student at this school. Personally, I blamed it on Connections. Once someone made a Connection, it made him or her lose sight of what was important because they were too busy making googly-eyes at their soul mate.
Most of the Glee Club was already paired up: Rachel with Finn, Sam with Mercedes, Mr. Shue with Ms. Pillsbury, Tina with Mike…even Santana and Brittany had Connected with each other, though both of them liked to swing a bit, hence Santana's comment about the new student. All that was left was Artie, Puck, Quinn, and I.
It wasn't like I didn't want a soul mate (while shallow, Connected people were very happy). It was just that for now I took pride in being my own person. It was getting more and more difficult to be proud, though; Karofsky's bullying was steadily escalating and I couldn't help but wish somebody cared enough to notice.
"What's so bad about the new kid that would tarnish your reputation, Noah?" Rachel droned, bringing me out of my depressing thoughts. "You just got out of Juvie."
"That's how I know him!" Puck raged, gesturing wildly with his hands. "He was the dude that kept taking my waffles! He would follow me around the mess hall, bearing down on me like a rabid dog! I heard from the other guys that he's been in and out ever since middle school for all kinds of stuff. Stealing mostly, but also assault, battery…my guess is he just got expelled from his old school and that's why he transferred here."
Not many people seemed interested in Puck's story, deferring to phones and homework, but that didn't seem to discourage him. His tale had taken on a ghost story feel by the time Mr. Shue walked in, half of us yawning already.
When lunchtime finally arrived it was a blessing, as it usually was after listening to Mr. Shuester's repetitive lesson plans.
I hadn't even sat down with my salad between Mercedes and Tina before I was being force-fed the newest bit of gossip from Santana. Apparently one of the Cheerios had Connected to a Russian exchange student the previous period, all of the girls immediately taking it upon themselves to spread the news.
"Aww!" Mercedes and Tina cooed in unison, and I had to use all of my self-control not to roll my eyes.
"Oh please," I said exasperatedly. "It seems rather silly, doesn't it? I mean, one look and you automatically know you're supposed to be with someone forever? How the hell does that even work, anyway?"
"Why question it?" Rachel laughed, oblivious to my bitterness. "It's amazing, Kurt, really! Before I met Finn I thought it would just get in the way of my career, but…he's worth it, even if I don't become a big star. Which I will, by the way."
I sighed, recognizing that Rachel had gone into "lovey-dovey mode", as I liked to call it. I tuned her out, glancing absently around the cafeteria.
Honestly, it hit me like lightning. It made me forget absolutely everything, isolating that single, split-second moment, making it seem like the most important of my life. I instantly knew that every memory I would ever have would be classified as either before or after this snapshot of time.
The cause: eyes.
But not just any eyes, of course not. These were undeniably the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. As soon as I saw them I knew them better than my own. They were mostly gold, but with streaks of coffee brown that bled nicely from the pupils, reminding me of tree branches. Dark green dappled the irises like leaves, all of it blending together and glinting in the sunlight coming in the window, framed by long, soft lashes.
It felt like a long time before I could tear my own eyes away to look at the person harboring those masterpieces, though in reality it was only a fraction of a second. I blinked and the magic of that golden moment was gone, because the person attached to those eyes was the last one I expected.
He had curly hair that could've been either dark brown or black, sticking out in all directions and slightly overhanging the most interesting eyebrows I'd ever seen. They were onyx and almost perfectly triangular, thick and presently furrowed over his eyes. My gaze trailed down his prominent olive-toned cheekbones to follow the definition of his stubble-dusted jaw to his full lips, slightly agape, but it was the rest of his appearance that really shocked me.
A very worn-out brown leather jacket covered his shoulders, unbuttoned to show a gray form-fitting tee shirt beneath it. Dark stonewashed jeans clung to his legs, bunched around the ankles over dirty green Converse. The glint of metal could be seen all over him, a few thick bands on his fingers, but also a small hoop and a stud on his eyebrow, three rings in one earlobe and a stud in the cartilage of the other.
I was quickly brought back to Earth. I realized what was going on, remembered where I was, but most of all figured out exactly who and what this person was.
My soul mate. I had just Connected, but it wasn't as I imagined it would be. There was no slow-motion run into each other's arms, no soft piano music in the background, no tears shed because of all the years we'd spent waiting for each other. There was just blank staring, accompanied with the clear understanding that we weren't what the other had expected.
The longer we held each other's gaze, the angrier he seemed to get. His expressive, studded eyebrows became black angry brushstrokes splashed on by a careless artist, casting dark shadows over his previously sunlit eyes. His lips closed and jaw clenched, expression turning menacing as he turned on his heel and walked away.
"Kurt?"
I wasn't sure which one of the girls had spoken. Their voice seemed unnaturally loud, ringing in my ears.
"I-I have to go," I stammered, my voice seeming so quiet and weak in comparison. I shouldered my schoolbag and stood clumsily, ignoring their words of confusion as I left the cafeteria in the opposite direction that he had.
Getting slushies tossed in my face on a regular basis had one upside, and that was the development of the ability to find my way to the nearest bathroom with my eyes closed. The moment I reached the door I shoved it open and quickly checked the stalls before locking it behind me. Dropping my bag on the tile floor, I braced myself on the edge of a sink, feeling sick. I chanced a glance in the mirror, my reflection a pitiful mess of tears and red, puffy eyes.
This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't right, it couldn't be happening, and yet I knew it was. That moment had been too real for this to be a dream, or a nightmare, or whatever other name I might come up with.
He had to be that delinquent Puck was talking about. Not just because of the fact that I'd never seen him before, but because I just knew. I knew he was Blaine Anderson, there was no –
Wait, Blaine? Where did that come from? I had only ever heard his last name when Santana mentioned it, but I was certain he was called Blaine.
A teardrop fell into the porcelain sink as I drew a few shuddering breaths, trying to calm myself down. This had to be some mistake, a sick joke; Blaine couldn't be my soul mate, could he? I would never…he'd been arrested for assault and battery, for god's sake!
I started hyperventilating and I could feel my knees wobbling, threatening to give out. I had to get out of here. I couldn't risk seeing him again, seeing the disgust and anger in those beautiful eyes because my own soul mate couldn't stand to look at me. I just needed to go home and…think or something, do anything to clear my head long enough to formulate a plan of action. I didn't now what the hell I could do to help the situation, but still.
I grabbed my bag and left the bathroom, marching straight down the hall with my eyes on the floor, though the place was empty. Soon enough I was in my car, driving home in a daze. There was no one home when I got there, and I gratefully went downstairs to collapse onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.
How was I supposed to deal with this? I'd never heard of anyone's soul mate immediately hating him or her…but then again, did I even like him?
Well, of course I couldn't really say; I barely knew the guy, after all. But honestly, wasn't a criminal record enough to know he wasn't the kind of person I wanted to get involved with? If he could scare Puck…I shuddered to think what he might be like.
Then again, people didn't just randomly Connect. It formed a bond between two people, as was proved by my spontaneous knowledge of Blaine's name. We wouldn't Connect unless we were meant to be together. But if that was true, why did we hate each other?
I huffed a sigh, rolling onto my side and trying to untangle the knot that was my jumbled thoughts. Maybe it just wasn't the right time. Perhaps Blaine would mature in years to come, get out of his rebellious phase, and then we could be together.
At least, that's what I told myself to get through the night.