The bell rang, indicating the end of the day, and Kurt Hummel was not happy. He packed up his things and exited the classroom, joining the sea of students who were eager to get home. Kurt pushed his way through the crowd, finally reaching his locker. He pulled out the things he needed to take home, replacing them with his Algebra book. He stuffed the rest of his things in his bag, then spun around on his heel, making his way outside and across the parking lot to his car.

He slid into his Navigator with a sigh. Normally, he would have headed straight to Glee, but not today. Sending a quick text to his dad to let him know he would be home late, he pulled out of the now almost empty parking lot and started on the nearly two hour drive down to Westerville. His thoughts the entire drive were how much he hated his brother for making him do this, and how he would much rather be in Glee. Sure, most, if not all, of the meeting would be Rachel blabbing about how talented she is, but Kurt had gotten pretty good at tuning her out.

Relief washed over him as he pulled into the school. He was tired of driving, he was hungry, and he just wanted to go home. And after this, he had to spend another two hours in the car to get back to Lima. He pulled into one of the visitors spaces close to the entrance, not being in the mood to walk. He made his way into the building, peeling off his sunglasses to get a better look around.

It definitely wasn't like McKinley. Dalton was big. He checked his phone, and found a reply back from his dad, and texts from a few of his fellow Glee members asking why he wasn't there, but nothing from his brother. He sent him another message and descended down the staircase. His eyes trailed over the hall, seeing tons of people in the same red and navy uniform, but none who looked familiar.

Kurt asked around, seeing if anyone knew where Elijah was. He received strange looks from the boys in return, and now he was just getting frustrated. His brother was ignoring him, and everybody around seemed to be completely useless. He was tempted to leave but knew his brother would throw a fit if he did. So he decided he would just find his own way around.

After what seemed like hours of walking in circles, Kurt decided to try and ask someone for help again. He pushed open a door which he was certain he'd already walked by and slipped inside — literally, slipped. He steadied himself and glanced around, seeing that he was at the pool. His eyes stopped searching the room when they landed on someone. A soaking wet, attractive someone. He blushed and turned to walk back out, but his feet were glued to the ground. So he watched as the boy pulled himself out of the water, immediately grabbing a towel to wrap around his tiny waist.

The boy looked up and Kurt turned away before he was caught staring. How could you not stare, though? This boy was beautiful, and now he was getting closer and closer to Kurt. He smiled up at him as he walked by, and Kurt felt like he was going to pass out. "Hey, Elijah," the boy greeted and patted him on his shoulder as he went.

Kurt frowned. Nobody seemed to realize that he was not Elijah. Okay, so they were identical, but there were tons of ways to tell them apart. Especially by how they kept themselves. Kurt was the more fashionable twin, always checking to make sure his hair and clothes were perfect, meanwhile Elijah didn't care at all. He just threw on whatever he felt was clean and went on his way. The thought made Kurt's nose winkle in disgust.

He looked up to find the boy staring at him. "Oh, no — I'm not," he cleared his throat. "I'm Kurt. Elijah's brother."

The boy's nose scrunched up, and if that wasn't the cutest thing Kurt had ever seen. Definitely cuter than that new Marc Jacobs bag he had his eye on. "That's odd," the boy commented. "He never mentioned he had a brother."

"That seems to be a pattern," Kurt mumbled, rolling his eyes. "My brother is an idiot. Speaking of, he seems to be ignoring me, and I'm lost. I swear I've walked down this same hallway five times in a row..." He didn't finish his sentence — he hated asking for help, even if he really needed it. So instead he just implied it.

The boy laughed, and damnit. That just proved Kurt's point of everything about him being perfect. And he was probably straight, so it made it that much worse. "Of course I'll help you. Uh, I need to change first though. I'm Blaine, by the way." He picked up his clothes and excused himself, making his way to the locker room. Normally, he would take a shower, but he didn't have time. So he changed out of his suit and pulled on his uniform. He combed through his hair and frowned at himself in the mirror. He hadn't brought his gel, and his hair was a mess.

As he tried to tame his mop of curls, his mind wandered back to his friend and Kurt. Elijah had never mentioned having brother, let alone a twin. And it wasn't like his friend was mysterious or reserved or anything — in fact, he was pretty open about most things. He'd even shared what happened with his mother, but he never once mentioned Kurt, and that was what threw Blaine off. But anyway, back to Kurt. Kurt. Elijah was handsome, yeah, but Blaine never really felt attracted to him. Kurt, though. God, he was beautiful. From his pale, porcelain skin to his perfectly coiffed chestnut hair. Why did he find him so attractive, but felt nothing for his twin?

He shook his head, realizing that he was spending way too much time in here, and Kurt was probably wondering what the fuck he was doing. He walked back out with a smile, finding Kurt exactly where he'd left him. "Come on," Blaine encouraged, once close enough, holding out his hand.

Blaine led him back down the hallway, twisting and turning a few times before finally reaching the main hall. They turned again and stopped once they reached the end of the hallway. Blaine pushed the doors open and the two stepped inside. Kurt took a moment to look around — to his right, was a desk lined with a few chairs behind. To his left was a piano. And right in front of him were two couches, one of which was occupied. The boy was stretched out, holding a book up right in front of his face.

Angrily, Kurt walked over to the couch and flipped the book right out of his hands, causing it to go flying across the room. The boy instantly sat up, his nostrils flaring. He turned his head so he could glare up at Kurt. He softened a bit, seeing that it was his brother, but that didn't make him any less pissed. "What the fuck was the for?" he spat.

Kurt gave him a sickeningly sweet smile and placed his hand over his chest. "Oh, I'm sorry, my hand slipped."

Elijah rolled his eyes and peered around his brothers shoulder. He turned back and smirked, raising his eyebrows. "I see you've met Blaine, huh?"

Kurt's hands moved to rest at his hips and he gave his brother his best bitch face. It all made sense now — why he was ignoring him. He wanted Kurt to find Blaine. His brother was trying to set him up. He wanted to throw his arms up and scream, or slap his brother. Sometimes he could be so infuriating. "You were supposed to show me around, Lij. Instead I spent half an hour walking in a circle looking for you!"

The boy shrugged, getting up to retrieve his book. "I was reading. Blaine can show you around," he nodded at the boy who was standing awkwardly by the door. He flopped back down on the couch, flipping pages until he found where he'd left off.

"You're insufferable!" Kurt huffed, spinning around and grabbing Blaine by the arm before exiting the room.

The next hour was spent with Kurt complaining about his idiot brother while Blaine showed him around the school. It was nice, but Kurt couldn't leave McKinley. Well, he couldn't leave the New Directions — they were everything to him, he couldn't just pack up and say "bye!" then leave. Sure, it annoyed him that he didn't always get the recognition he deserved, but he still couldn't leave them. Little did he know, he would be changing his mind about that very soon.

He thanked Blaine for showing him around, said goodbye and left. He kept himself entertained on the journey home by belting out the words from the songs on his Wicked playlist. He pulled into the driveway, parking his car behind his father's truck. He heard his voice from the living room as he slid inside. He called back, confirming that it was him and headed to the kitchen. He heated up a few pieces of the leftover pizza Burt had informed was in the fridge, then trekked upstairs.

He finished most of his French worksheet and all of the pizza before he decided to sleep. He changed into his pajamas and completed his moisturizing routine, then flopped into bed. It had been a long day, and he was exhausted, so as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out.