Kurt was sat on the swings later that very same Monday. He had told his mommy he was going to Mercedes's house, but in truth, he had just wandered to the park and sat on the swings, crying bitterly for the last half hour. He was still snuffling when he heard someone approaching.
Kurt looked up, rubbing his eyes, as an older boy, in a shirt, red tie, grey trousers and red blazer walked up and sat on the swing next to him. The other boy's hair was wild and curly, his eyes the most amazing hazel.
"Hi. I'm Blaine. Are you ok?" He asked. Kurt sniffed, and nodded. "What grade are you in? Kindergarten?" Kurt nodded again. "I'm in first grade. At Dalton Elementary School for boys. Its a private school. It costs a bunch of moneys to keep me there, but it's 'kay cuz granny and gramps are paying. They're super rich." He kept talking until Kurt stopped sniffing. "Can you talk now?"
"Yes.. I'm Kurt Hummel." Murmured Kurt.
"Blaine Anderson." Said Blaine, sticking out his hand. Kurt looked at him warily. Slowly, he took the other boys hand, and Blaine shook his arm up and down weirdly, like the way Kurt had seen grown-ups do.
"The boys in my class say that boys shouldn't hold hands.." Kurt mumbled, dropping Blaine's hand and looking around, eyes wide, to make sure that neither Puck, Davey, Azimio or Finn was near-by.
"Its OK.." Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand again and squeezing it. "They won't hurt you anymore. They did hurt you, right? Did they push you down?"
"No... They just.. teased me.." Kurt decided it would be best not to explain the Finn-thing to Blaine. "But they pushed me down before. Not the same boys, diff'rent."
"They did that to me at my old school. So I moved." Blaine explained. His tone was low, matter-of-fact, but his eyes were shining. It was Kurt's turn to squeeze Blaine's hand. "Oh, I have to go..." Blaine said suddenly, as a woman with black hair appeared at the gate of the playground. "But I'll see you around, 'kay? My address is sixty-five Langville Drive."
"Okay. Are we friends now, Blaine?" Kurt asked shyly.
"Sure we are." Blaine grinned, standing and picking up his backpack.
"So can you hug me? My mommy usually hugs me after I cry, but she's not here.." Blaine folded his arms around Kurt, just a little shorter than him, and squeezed. Kurt squeezed him back.
"BLAINE!" The black haired woman called.
"COMING, MOM!" Blaine called, and drew away, jogging toward her. "SIXTY-FIVE LANGVILLE DRIVE, REMEMBER?" He yelled back as he ran.
"I WILL!" Kurt replied, smiling. Blaine was such a nice person. Why couldn't all boys be like Blaine and Kurt? Kurt sat back on the swing, and let the aching in his chest consume him again. Now he missed not only Finn, but Blaine. Blaine made him feel better again. Without Blaine, he was crying again in no time, the darkness falling around him.
And that was where his mommy found him. On the swing, crying.
"Oh, Kurtie!" She yelled, rushing and picking up her son. She whipped out her phone. "Burt? Hon, its OK. I've got him. No, no need to call the police. I have him. He's a bit upset. Yeah, I'll try to talk to him. Uhuh. Uhuh. Okay, see you in a bit, love you." She shut the phone. "Kurtie? You okay, baby?"
But, enveloped in his mother's embrace, Kurt had fallen into a fitful slumber.
"Sixty-five langville drive.." He murmured in his sleep as his mother carried him home. She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
Later, when she had put Kurt to bed, Elizabeth Hummel looked up the address for 65 Langville Drive, OH on google maps. It was one of the most gorgeous houses she had ever seen, and a large porsche sat outside. Some more digging revealed it was the house of the state MP, Marcus Anderson, and his wife, Isolde. They had a son, Blaine, and a daughter, Felicia. Both attended private, single sex schools in the next town over, Westerville.
Elizabeth frowned. First, why would you send your kids so far away to school? And second, what did Kurt have to do with the state MP?