tate.

_{“I’m starving.”  Easy as pie. A little casual conversation and Tate was already formally inside ; The butt of his cigarette was dropped in the gestured to planter before he stepped up on the patio behind his new found friend.  “We were both kicked out, but it’s still bullshit if you ask me. He bullied me ruthlessly, day-in and day-out. Guess I just snapped one day.”  Or, at least half of that story was true. Tate’s eyes peered around the foyer of his prison sentence in feigned interest of what was suppose to be a new environment. Though, in truth, Tate had grown so sick of that house it made him feel nauseous sometimes.}

_{“People didn’t really like me there. I mean, some of it’s my own fault, I have to admit that. But I was never cruel to anybody. I guess I’m just — a little too weird for your average teenager, huh?”  The blond shrugged it off with a grin, though it seemed out of place compared to his words ; This wasn’t a part that he was fabricating for the lie he un-lived. The general student body back when he did attend that school wasn’t fond of him, apparently he gave off an unnerving vibe to most.  “Though I doubt anyone there remembers me anymore.”}

A little casual conversation was all Tate truly needed.  Even after the reason for his family’s move here, Blaine seemed to trust someone at face value alone.  Giving people (and their intentions) the benefit of the doubt they they were good until he was proved wrong was how Blaine Anderson was wired.  Some people tried but even they couldn’t beat it out of him.  Call it a flaw or a weakness.  His darkest hours might make him second guess himself.  Think maybe he wasn’t capable of staying this way.  But when the light came back and the clouds lifted from his thoughts (and they always lifted), the need to believe in people always seeps back in.  It was doubtful it could ever be changed.  Not now.  Not ever.

His entire posture changed as Tate told him the reason why he was expelled.  A bitter taste of knowing what that felt like churned in his stomach.  Enough that it made his ever present smile twitch down to nothing. “Being different doesn’t warrant your life being made hell.  I’m sorry you went through that.  I know what it’s like..” He was quick shrug it off not wanting Tate to focus on the past (slippery slope and all). “That’s okay.  Make new memories with new people.  Let them forget you.  It’s not like they matter–Oh!  Kitchen’s this way,” he headed towards the hall digging his vibrating cell out from his pocket to read the message as he lead them.  His face fell but he said nothing and sat it down on the counter.  “I–Sorry.  Uh–.  Any requests?”