This time he had no guitar or product in his hair, rather he was wearing a blue cardigan, crew neck t-shirt and what looked like chinos, topped off with boat shoes, an unshaved face and glasses. Kurt noted that he was one of the few normal people - celebrities were a different caliber of people, who can pull off the slick, dapper look and the scruffy look. It was impressive, the man from that morning and the one in front of him barely seemed like the same person but it was the eyes that Kurt recognized.  To be completely honest, Kurt was glad he ran into the stranger again.

"I'm Blaine, by the way," Mystery Man, Blaine, said, extending his hand for a shake. Kurt eyed the hand before slowly reaching out to shake it. Blaine had a firm handshake, a strong grip but yet friendly and not threatening.  If a man can tell what he really thinks of a woman with her earrings, a man can tell how another man is by his handshake - all in all, the stranger, Blaine, was fairing quite well with Kurt at the moment.

"I'm Kurt and no, not lunch at Tiffany's. Just your afternoon coffee and I was just heading back to work. It's a walk but getting through traffic at this hour is not the smartest to do" he explained, taking another sip from his cup. Blaine only gave him a simple nod and smiled before turning back to looking at the great store.

"So what are you doing here?" Kurt asked, curious as to what the other man's story was - if there was a story at all.  For all he knew, Blaine was just passing by and recognized Kurt. Given that it was New York, it takes a considerable amount of guts to say anything to a random stranger, unless you're asking for directions.

"No reason really, I was just walking around," Blaine answered, "if you were expecting a great story about why I seem to have a tendency to be around this store, I'm sorry to disappoint." And to that, Kurt had no reply, other than a small internal victory dance that he had guessed correctly - not everyone had a story related to Tiffany's, at least not like Kurt.

Just as Kurt was about to open his mouth, a very familiar noise came from his blazer pocket; usually Kurt would almost welcome the noise since that meant there was something for him to do, but since the phone call was cutting from his time with this charming man, he was undoubtedly annoyed.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this," Kurt apologized, digging his fingers into his tight pocket to find the source of the noise. He noticed Blaine smirk at the song and gave him a playful death stare before turning away to scream at whoever interrupted him; turns out he couldn't because it was his boss, thanking a God he didn't think existed for caller ID.

"Emma, this better be important," Kurt huffed into the phone not even trying to hide his annoyance - he might not be able to yell at her, but he could at least giver her some attitude.

"It's nothing really, just that we need you to come back to the office to man the department, Sue's calling an urgent meeting so I need someone to keep everyone in control," Emma practically shrieked into the phone, a knowing smile crossed Kurt's face. Sue had a thing for calling random meetings and sending everyone into frenzy. For someone as calm and slow as Emma, these moments were not appreciated at all so he quickly promised he'd back before ending the call. What surprised him was when he turned around was that Blaine was still standing there as if he were waiting for Kurt to finish his call.

"I have to go," Kurt said, giving a small apologetic smile. It wasn't something to be sorry about, but he did feel bad for leaving. It felt like the universe was pulling him away from a great chance of something - it wasn't everyday that one meets a beautiful man in New York that doesn't turn out to be a complete psycho within forty eight hours within meeting them; and on top of the obvious attractive demeanor, Blaine seemed nice; even with the limited encounters they had, just by Blaine's smile, the way his eyes squint up and the ways his shoulders shrugged up just a bit.

"It's fine, I'll see you around. I work around here too," Blaine said with his infamous smile before giving Kurt a nod and heading off further Fifth Avenue. Kurt found his eyes following the head of curls as it disappeared into the sea of people, mildly disappointed with losing track of Blaine, he admitted defeat to the universe and headed back to the office.

Kurt made his way through the people in the grand reception, filled with a never ending clacking of the shoes as the busy people race in and out of the building, more of them running out for a smoke break than actually doing errands, but it filled him with a certain joy that he was amidst typical New Yorkers, and not the closed minded crowd of Lima, Ohio. He smiled at the guards and swiped his keycard and found an elevator waiting for him. As he was about the close the door, a familiar voice - a very loud and familiar voice, yelled at him to stop the elevator doors from closing. Kurt knew better than to close the door on this one person so he lunged at the buttons to keep the door open.

"Why thank you Kurt, for keeping the door open for me," the person said, smoothing down her dress and hair. This person was no other than his best friend, Rachel Berry. She had originally planned out a career in Broadway but after posting a very vindictive blog about talent being unrecognized in the city, the post went viral and was recruited into the magazine. If anything, her time with the magazine exceeds and now sits comfortably in an office, writing a column each month about up and coming music - be it a bar singer or an obscure band that deserves to be showcased. While Rachel loved to be out and about everywhere in New York, Kurt stayed in his little elitist circle of fashion brands and runway shows. The two of them met when they were held back at the office because of something to with a power shortage all over New York. The desperate few took the stairs from their twelfth floor office, the others, the lazy few stayed in the office until the elevators started working again. Kurt had just started working at Vogue then, so he was roaming to the pantry when suddenly a questioning voice boomed from behind him. As a result, not only was his freshly brewed coffee now all over his shirt but he was sure half the office heard him screaming. From then on, the two's relationship progressed from amicable colleagues to best friends, Rachel and Kurt had a dynamic, one of harsh and constructive criticism and strong emotional support when they needed it. Kurt has handled enough angry and awful boyfriends for Rachel just like how she defended him when Kurt's ex-boyfriend tried to slap him at the office. Of course Emma and security got involved but it was Rachel who convinced Kurt to not resign and runaway in shame. Similarly when Rachel found out the man she had been seeing was actually married, Kurt showed up with ice cream and lots of warm comfort food the same night.

"Where were you for lunch? I was looking all over for you," Rachel said, checking her hair in the shiny mirrors, provided by the ever-lovely Condé Nast, reminding them that everyone working for them should generally look their best, even in the office.

"Emma gave me an early lunch so I headed over the Tiffany's," Kurt, answered, biting a smile back, which did not go, unnoticed by Rachel. After a silent battle of eyebrow raising and nudging Kurt indulged his best friend in his encounter with a certain dapper man in New York.

‘'There's this guy, no, not like that," Kurt said quickly, "and I met him one night outside Tiffany's. And today we ran into each other, again and we ... talked. It was nice." Lost in his small daydream of Blaine's golden eyes, "And he's perfect, a bit short, but physically perfect. And I've seen enough good looking men at galas - if I say he's good looking, he is." Rachel squealed in response, which was what Kurt wanted to do after seeing Blaine again but he was in public and he refused to let anyone see him acting like a teenage girl.

"What's his name? Did you get his number? Are you sure he's gay? Do you want me to come with you? I have an excellent gaydar. Living with two gay dads back home I can tell anyone who's gay within a second," Rachel started rambling, only stopping to step out of the elevator. Kurt listened and nodded - he had learnt long ago that trying to interrupt Rachel was like trying to wear a cheetah print onesie - it just didn't work. However, even Rachel went silent when they stepped into the office, after all, with a staff meeting going on, no one wanted to face Sue's wrath of causing too much noise. The two shared a knowing look saying I'll see you later, and Rachel adding one that said This isn't over, we're talking about this, they went their separate ways to their respective departments.

Kurt sat down at his little desk outside of Emma's room and checked that there were no miss calls and no one was shaking with fear or running around trying to cause problems. He stayed relatively quiet, clicking around on the Internet and answering a few calls - all looking for Emma, but was more than glad to talk to Kurt instead, since almost everyone knew that Emma was more of the approver rather than the innovator. After making sure that they would call them back after the meeting, Kurt set down the phone and waited. Before he knew it, the clock read three and Emma was back donning a relieved expression on her face. The brunette gave a knowing nod before getting up to take the different sheets and notes from his boss's hands and set it down on his desk.

"I take it, that the meeting was brutal?" Kurt asked, heading to the pantry to get the frazzled lady sitting in her office her supposedly calming tea. He didn't believe in the rubbish the marketers say about their tea, but whatever got his boss to calm down and in turn, keep him sane, he would use.

"She is scrapping the entire cover story for this month and demanding that we focus more on the fall, but with a twist. What does that even mean?" Emma said, putting heavy emphasis onto the last word, sipping away at Kurt's quick but perfect ginseng green tea.

"You're the head, so it's really your call but, we can do bright colors, and make it pop? Against like the falling leaves or something," Kurt muttered, "Something along the lines of that, I'm in a rut so don't expect miracles." It wasn't that he couldn't think of anything, but that he was simply too tired and bored to think of something. The idea of crashing onto his couch and watching re-runs of Greys Anatomy out weighed working at Vogue right now.

"And that's why we will leave it until tomorrow. Right now, I need you to run about, again, to go get my husbands suit from the dry cleaners. We need to go to this gala for his Broadway high-school sweetheart. Who I think is insane but, you know, whatever," Emma said, giving an uncaring shrug as if she were trying to act casual about it. Kurt knew better than to question when her eyes kept on fluttering.

"I guess I'll be off then," turning on his heel and heading for the exit until he heard the usual frantic shout from his boss.

"Oh, Rachel told me to tell you something about going to a bar tonight? I didn't get the whole thing down. You know musicians, thinking that everyone has trained ears," waving her hand in the air, her smile indicating that she meant well. Kurt made a mental note to text Rachel about this sudden bar visit before grabbing his scarf and heading down to their - or rather, Emma Pilsbury Shuester's, dry cleaners.

(3:17pm)
Bar? Say what?

(3:18pm)
Yep, talent scoping tonight, and there's a bar with a great singer apparently.
(3:18pm)
Just trying to see if I can make someone's career...again. Hehe

(3:19pm)
Unless something comes up at work, which I doubt it will, I'll be there.
(3:20pm)
What time and where?

(3:22pm)
It's just a fifteen minute walk from work...a couple of stores down from the brunch coffee shop, so I say, take a cab if you want to go home and change. If not, we can go grab dinner after work and head over there.

Kurt had reached the dry cleaners by then, who had the suit out ready quicker than he could chastise the staff's awful boot cut jeans. He managed to shuffle everything in his hand until he could bear the suit in one and carry on texting with the other.

(3:34pm)
Perfect, I'll meet you outside the beauty department. Hopefully whatshisface won't hit on me...again.

With that Kurt skipped back to the office and left the dry cleaning in the closet and tapped his foot on the floor, waiting for the remaining hours to fly by. After picking up a few more phone calls, running around a bit more for Emma. If anything, today was no different from any other; the errands might be different but Kurt basically did the same thing everyday until the last week of the month until the magazine is about to go to print - then all hell breaks loose. All his colleagues complain and outright despise the company, but he loved it. The rush to get everything to be perfect, the pressure made him feel alive; and of course there was his lovely breakfast sessions at Tiffany's.

Kurt ran to the bathroom before he met Rachel and did a quick check of his outfit. A simple outfit that donned little details screaming they were from only the highest of brands, namely, a Burberry shirt and pants from Calvin Klein - it looked about a couple of thousand dollars but really from a thrift store that Kurt discovered in a small alley way in New York. As much as he loved fashion, the young assistant refused to pay over a hundred dollars for a plain white shirt - he had other things to worry about like rent and food, which in New York terms, meant he could only really splurge on a pricey jacket or bag once every six months. He didn't mind it, no one called him out on it and everyone assumed he was crapping money and managed to buy them. Well, that was what Rachel said during their first meeting anyway.

"Sharp as always, but now let's go, he's meant to be singing in twenty minutes and I don't think running is going to be fitting when you're exiting the Condé Nast Building," Rachel said as the two walked to the elevators.

"Oh so he's a guy? But then again, why would you glorify some other girl's talent?" Kurt teased. He knew that Rachel always had a sore spot in writing about solo female artists which meant that a lot of the talent that was put into the magazine was usually male acts or bands (the bands' lead singer had a little bit more equality of course).

"Yes he is. And he's pretty good looking too. A bit short, but definitely good looking," Rachel said, weaving her way through the people of New York, despite them getting off work a bit later, being close to the heads of the their department they generally stayed at the office a bit longer than everyone else, but even after rush hour, the crowds of New York seem to never die. Kurt had stopped talking by then because from Rachel's description of this apparently gorgeous crooner Blaine had popped into his head. His mind was cast back to their first meeting, with guitar slung across his back, which made Kurt wonder if Blaine was a singer, somewhere in the jungle that was Manhattan.

The duo flashed their IDs, which always thrilled Rachel and Kurt because they apparently looked young enough to not be twenty-one, when they were in fact twenty-six. Kurt and Rachel ascended the stairs, tastefully decorated with old oak and marble floors. It looked more like a school if anything, but the interior at the top of the stairs shook any doubts Kurt had about the place being a genuine bar. It was dimly lit, and the room had a very homey atmosphere. Big leather couches and warm red walls, with a very English style bar, again with wooden counters but still modern enough to be called hip. After Rachel shook Kurt from his admiration for interior design, they sat the bar and ordered their drinks from the blond bartender - a daiquiri for Rachel and a Cosmo for Kurt and he insisted he paid.

Unknown to Kurt, the spotlight had come on and was shining onto the small stage a bit further front and on stepped a man, guitar slung onto his back.

"Hey everyone, welcome to Dalton. I'm Blaine, and tonight I'll be playing ... " Kurt whipped his head around from the bar and saw the familiar figure on the stool on the stage. And from then, Kurt tuned out from whatever praise or criticism Rachel said about Blaine, he was too busying listening to his voice and positively melting.

Kurt walked up to Blaine after he finished playing his set, who was busy with putting his guitar away and singing softly to himself what sounded like Teenage Dream.

"And I thought I stood out like a sore thumb," Kurt said, chuckling making Blaine turn around.