#quarterbck

in an alternate universe, a twisted world, you and blaine were mr. anderson’s pristine picture of the perfect arranged marriage. you were the daughter of a wealthy surgeon and not to mention, loaded, and blaine needed someone who would make him change his mind about the reason he was different. except no one expected you to also be different. no one, except for blaine, who always knew there was a reason you bit noah puckerman’s tongue at that party you invited him to your freshman year of high school, or why you never crazed over boy bands or swooned over ryan goslin’s suave conquest of rachel mcadams in the notebook.

you came out of the closet around the same time he did, not because you were following him by example, but because you knew that if blaine had the courage to come out to his father, to face the consequences that would inevitably surface if he knew he liked boys in any way, shape, or form, then you could do it too. elizabeth accepted him without circumstance, loved him for who he was, but blaine’s tryst with homosexuality seemed to draw an even deeper hole between him and the rapidly fading relationship he had with his dad.

your coming out experience had been differently, naturally. both of your parents, who claimed had always known (mainly because of the way you stared at quinn fabray whenever she was over), were supportive. you were lucky. blaine had his mother, but even if his dad hadn’t particularly disowned him (just ignored his sexuality all together), you always knew how much it affected him. even when he wouldn’t tell you – you knew, you always knew.

you would meet up for your weekly coffee at a local shop in westerville, or he would make the drive to lima in turn, to have his usual at the lima bean. he was the only person in lima you could ever really open up to. perhaps it was the longevity of your friendship, the fact that he’s the only boy who ever saw you in your underwear without making a crude, perverted comment about your tits, or the fact that he was sort of your platonic soulmate. if you were a man, a gay man, blaine would be exactly the kind of guy you would chase after. even your parents loved him.

sometimes it was easy to think your own mother loved blaine more than she loved you, but blaine liked to claim the same thing about his mother. maybe because as time went by, you traded mrs. andersons for elizabeths and flirted with her whenever you had the chance (hall of fame, MILF) – not that you would ever go there, it was all fun and games and she was a hot mom, but you mostly did it to watch the irritated look on blaine’s face whenever you made elizabeth blush. in the end, you never saw her as more than a mother figure, and blaine was like the brother you never had. most importantly, he was your best friend, through thick and thin.

you never introduced him to your all of your friends in wmhs; most people assumed quinn and brittany were your besties, and though that was partially true (even blaine had taking to calling you three the unholy trinity even if he had never stepped ground in public school), they were still the only two people at school who knew about your friendship with blaine. not because you were ashamed, actually, you were proud and thankful to have such a great friend like him, but because exposing that part of yourself, exposing your past and personal details with people who didn’t deserve it, was too raw and emotional for you to face head on.

that is, until rachel berry’s train wreck of a house party. most people assumed blaine knew kurt (wrong), but when you threw your arms around him in a sloppy, drunken hug that night, it was clear to everyone that you had secrets. unbeknownst to them, you’ve always had them.

people feared you, but blaine didn’t. he never did. even when he branded you with the nickname SNIX during your junior year (your evil alter ego who liked going all shawshank on your peers) after an altercation with rick the stick nelson and his posse of hockey players at the lima bean that ended with a broken nose and cracked knuckles. even if you had power, and status at william mckinley, ohio was still ohio, and the midwest was plagued with homophobic baboons, prejudiced republicans, and extremists who would never accept you two for who you were because they lacked the brain cells to think like a progressive human being.

your friendship was never complicated in the way your relationships with others was. you never had any intention of harming in, in fact, you were fiercely protective of his well being. even when he enrolled in william mckinley (unsure whether it was to be close to you or be close to kurt – who wasn’t a fan of your friendship despite blaine’s reiteration that you were in fact, not the person he thought you were). you never felt the need to use him for status, never felt the need to blackmail him or use him as your plot device to further your academic career.

he would sit with you for hours on end when you were crying over a girl and you would sit with him whenever he needed to vent about his family. evermore, he became a constant presence in your life. he attended lopez family christmas events, drank spiked eggnog, and smoked pot with you by the window in your dimly lit room until you were too high to go downstairs and pretend you were sober. you were always gracefully invited to his family soirees, fancy dinner parties, and important events. you went on family vacations together – your parents and elizabeth, or elizabeth and the two of you – and stole your parents’ SUV to get drunk with your fake ID’s and find a waffle house that would willingly accept two drunken 18 year olds at their tables.