Okay, this is the reason I got a account. Just putting it out there. Been hesitant to post it for some reason but here it is, and I'm really proud. Keep in mind this story is heavily influenced by Grease, but if you're not a fan it's not a problem. Fluff and romance and angst and all that good stuff. Rated T for now, I think. Tell me what you think!
Kurt Hummel had always been a little strange. Aside from his slender porcelain body and his expressive seafoam-blue eyes, his graceful mannerisms and the way he held his form set him apart from his peers. However, being a little different didn't seem to matter that much in his town, even in the flawless identicality of the suburbia he resided in. His father had owned the local car shop for more than thirty years; people respected Burt Hummel and so they respected his son as well, no questions asked.
It wasn't as if Kurt made questions for people to ask, anyway.
Burt didn't ask questions either, and neither did his mom, until she passed away when Kurt was nine. Though a tragedy, it bonded Burt and Kurt closely; they understood each other and accepted each other through thick and thin, no matter what. Only recently had Burt allowed himself to fall in love again and marry to Carole Hudson, the widowed mother of one of Kurt's classmates, Finn. By default Finn, already fiercely loyal to his new brother, welcomed Kurt into his group of friends and that was how Kurt came to be a part of the coolest gang at school.
Whenever he would go out of the house or attend school he would tag along with Finn, Puck, and Sam, clad in the signature white t-shirt, cuffed jeans, black converse, and supple leather jacket. He would spray the hell out of his hair to make it look like his friends' (Kurt found grease revolting), relax at Dellie's, go out to Breadstix, watch the boys do fancy tricks with their cigarette smoke and try a few of his own now and then, and ride through town in alternating automobiles. Many would say it was a charmed life for a high schooler, but for Kurt it was something less than ideal.
What Kurt wanted to be and do was far from the typically idealistic. He was a romantic at heart, knowing the lyrics to every one of his favorite Broadway musicals and sliding romantic melodies across the piano with his languid fingers. His record collection consisted of the crooners of the thirties and forties, jazz of the twenties, said musicals, and only select popular jives of his own time consisting mostly of Elvis Presley. His room was perpetually spotless and color-schemed so that his eyes woke up happy and rested in the morning, and he secretly used his late mother's favorite brand of night cream every night before bed to keep his porcelain face flawless. His heart beat to sing, to sing in its natural countertenor voice as opposed to the deep tenor of his peers that he sought to match in public. And oh, how he wished to own the high fashion magazines that girls at school swooned over, to dress like the men in those glossy advertisements.
But alas, Kurt was cursed with the "good" life, the life every adolescent male would kill for.
Kurt would trade it all in for even an ounce of acceptance.
Even his father, the most understanding human being in his life, only knew a certain extent of just how different Kurt really was. Kurt wasn't stupid, he knew his mind and his body perfectly well, and knew exactly what his inner hopes and desires added up to. But Kurt also wasn't oblivious. He knew what people would think if he just came out with it that he loved Broadway, and fashion, that he wanted to become a star or a fashion designer. Quite honestly, he didn't know if he could, or even if he had yet, deal with the reality of what he was. And if he couldn't, then how on earth could his dad, let alone members of the town?
So Kurt settled for just being different. Though he couldn't change who he was on the inside, he changed everything possible on the outside. He conformed to the jeans and the converse, the leather jackets and the burgers, the poppy Rock N' Roll, the grease and the cars. As long as he kept his friends away from his room, his private sanctuary of The Real Kurt Hummel, for the most part Kurt was okay with living a double life.
It wasn't until Blaine Anderson appeared out of nowhere that being different, inside and out, started to be a bit of a problem.