Glee: Small Umbrella in the Rain

Chapter One: Overture

Hatred is sort of a learned behavior.

Stop and think about it. Anyone and anything you consider yourself to hate was probably somehow based on the opinion of somebody who has a pretty big influence of your life--- be it friends or family... For example, say there was this person in your class at school. He's not really a bad kid. He's quiet for the most part and isn't causing you any harm pre say. Yet, for whatever reason, every single person you care about is expressing their hatred towards this boy. You would grow to hate him too, right? Be really honest with yourself here. In all actuality, if we were faced with a situation similar to this one, we'd hate the boy, because the people who tell you to hate this kid have judgments you have grown to trust.

Now say, for example, you had a sudden lapse of judgment and you realize there isn't much of a reason to dislike this boy in the first place. However, your love ones are still quite fixed on their beliefs. Would you befriend the boy anyway, like you truly want to? But if you did, what would your loved ones think? Would they hate you, too?

It's the classic "Romeo and Juliet"-esque forbidden love type of story. It's your own morals and beliefs against the prospect of self-image. Which one is more important? Sure, maintaining the self-image is the easier option. But it isn't always the best.

Here we have a story of true love conquering all, as cliché as that sounds.  We have two soulmates overcoming all obstacles just to be together, despite what the people they care about think. But it wasn't always like that. Hatred is a learned behavior, after all.

Meet Kurt Hummel.

Eighteen years old, senior at William McKinley High School in a little town called Lima, Ohio. Very fashion savvy, the only countertenor in McKinley's glee club, the New Directions, of which he was a very active member, extremely musically inclined. And also very proudly gay.

Sure, he'd gotten tons of crap for it. Kurt could hardly remember a day when he hadn't been terrified of incoming slushies walking the halls in between classes. He'd heard close to every insult to gay people known to man. Did it hurt him? More than he'll ever admit. Did it make him want to curl up in an oversized fluffy blanket and just weep for hours at of a time? Yes, it did. But did he push forward and keep fighting despite it all? Yes, he did, to the very best of his ability.

It helped that he did love who he was. He loved being able to plan elaborate outfits weeks in advance to be absolutely positive he looked his very best. He loved watching and rewatching and rewatching musicals every free second he had. He loved making his whole street deaf with his squealing when the new issue of Vogue came in the mail. He loved singing in the New Directions. He loved being a part of something special.

As much as he loved all that about himself, it was hard finding people other people who did too. Kurt was the only out gay kid at McKinley, and he would never really admit it, but it did bring him down a bit. He wanted to be able to love somebody, to be able to hold someone's hand in the hallways, to be able to slow dance at his prom... But he tried not to let that get to him. Because when you're different... when you're special... You just have to get used to being alone.

Kurt wasn't alone, though. Not really. He had lots of friends in the New Directions. They all loved him and cared for him and wanted to protect him. They all protected each other. Kurt had Mercedes and Rachel, the two best friends a kid could ask for. Sure, they were as annoying as hell at points... Rachel in particular. There was hardly a day when Kurt didn't want to rip her head off or stuff a sock in her throat. But they understood Kurt more than anybody, and he was so grateful for them.

Kurt also had his family. He had his dad, Burt Hummel. Burt Hummel was a good man. He loved Kurt more than anything and he accepted Kurt's sexuality and dealt with it perfectly. He was a great father.