Blaine smiled brightly at the young boy in front of him. He was obviously from one of the schools competing against the Warblers at sectionals. Blaine had heard about the spy in the halls of Dalton and, along with the group of Windsor Warblers, he decided to put on a little show for him. What Blaine wasn’t expecting was the gorgeous boy that now stood in the doorway of the Warblers hall.

The boy was obviously blown away with their performance. Blaine’s heart sped up at the way the boy’s smile radiated warmth.

Blaine was rudely wakened by the sound of his ringtone, and it startled him so much he nearly fell off his bed. He looked down at his watch: midnight. He picked up the phone, “Hello?” Blaine’s voice was thick with sleep, and you could hear his aggravation at being woken up from such a pleasant memory.

“Hey, Blaine!”

“...Kurt?” He questioned. It sounded like Kurt, but much more hyper then the last time they had spoken.

“Yup! I just thought I’d call and ask about your flights!”

“You sound, er, cheerful,” Blaine said, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“I just got back from opening night, I think I’m still a bit high on the adrenaline.”

Ah, Blaine thought, such a true performer.

“So! Do you know when you’re flying in?” Kurt pressed.

“Yeah, I’m flying in tomorrow,” There was a pause, “Well, actually, I suppose it’s today.”

“Wait, what time is your flight at?”

“Noon.”

“Blaine!” Kurt gasped, “What time is it for you?”

“Uh, just past twelve.”

“What? Oh, Blaine you shouldn’t have picked up! What were you thinking?” Kurt lectured, his voice stern. Blaine groaned in response, wondering the same thing. “I’m sorry for calling so late...” Kurt’s voice was softer now, sympathetic, “I mean, it’s only nine out here.”

“It’s fine, Kurt, really. I need to pack anyway,” Blaine said, trying to change the topic, “Oh, speaking of which. Er, how long am I staying?”

“How long do you want to stay?” Kurt’s voice asked.

“How long am I welcome?”

“As long as you want. But at least a week, please. I want to spend time with you, and I can’t do that if I’m either at a show or sleeping. We’ve got the weekend off.”

“I can stay a week, sure.”

“You sure it won’t interfere with your studies?” Kurt asked sceptically.

“Nah, my teacher should be cool with it if I just finish at least one painting.”

“Oh, well at least it’s just one, then.”

“Yeah, too bad I’ve lost my touch.”

“What do you mean?” Kurt sounded worried.

“I can’t paint anymore, Kurt. I haven’t been able to finish anything for the past three years. I can’t paint, write, sing, nothing.”

“What? But Blaine, you were so great!”

“Yeah, I might’ve been then.”

“Maybe New York will inspire you?”

“Maybe...”

“Well, I’ll let you go pack. I’ll see you tomorrow. Look for your name on a sign at the airport; I’m getting someone to pick you up.” There was a click and the line went dead. Blaine thought about what Kurt said: “Maybe New York will inspire you?” Or, thought Blaine, maybe you will.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Blaine walked off the plane at the New York airport. Shit, he thought, I’m actually in New York. He looked around for the sign with his name as Kurt had instructed him to, spotting it with a man dressed in a tuxedo.

“Er, hi,” Blaine said awkwardly as he approached the man.

“Mr. Anderson?” Blaine nodded, “Welcome to New York, sir. Mr. Hummel is waiting for you at his condo downtown. Shall we go?” Blaine nodded again. He hadn’t had a driver in so long and it felt strange returning to the rich lifestyle he once knew. The driver accompanied Blaine to the luggage pick-up and waited patiently with him as Blaine waited for his bags to appear. It took them about ten minutes to locate the bags before they were able to leave for the car.

When Blaine walked into the car park he saw one long, black limo. The driver, Blaine discovered his name was Randy, walked right towards it.

“Seriously?” Blaine asked in disbelief.

“Yes, sir. It’s Mr. Hummel’s favourite.” Randy opened the door for Blaine, who slid in and looked around at the black leather seats. There was a cooler that held wine along with some boxes of expensive looking chocolate. Blaine rolled down his window. He wanted to see the city that never sleeps, he wanted to see the amazing architecture, but mainly he wanted to see where Kurt now called home.

Each building they passed seemed to hold some sort of expensive clothing store, or fancy restaurant, or a club. There had to be hundreds of people walking the streets, and even more posters advertising Grease.

“We will be arriving momentarily,” Randy said over an intercom. Blaine felt his stomach knot at the anticipation of reuniting with Kurt after their five year absence from each other. Had Kurt changed? How? Was it for the better, or worse? Would Kurt still want to be around Blaine when he realized Blaine was no longer the cool and collected boy he knew in High School? What would Blaine do if Kurt didn’t want to be around him? Each though made Blaine more and more nervous, and he was tempted to ask Randy to turn around and take him back to the airport. But before he had the chance he heard Randy’s voice over the intercom.

“Mr. Anderson, we’ve arrived.”