Blaine was terrified of weddings.

Seems silly to him, considering he's the one that proposed to the lovely Miss Fabray in the first place, but if it were up to Blaine, he would have never even asked. Unfortunately for him, the Anderson's cannot live a life of bachelorhood; it would soil their reputations as noble and respectful. So alas, his father had told Blaine that Miss Fabray was looking for a suitor, and Blaine fit the bill perfectly. Rich, handsome, and successful on his own at the age of 22, Blaine was renovating a bridge for the new park in New York City, where he lived in a beautiful apartment.

For 1917 New York standards, Blaine Anderson was quite the catch for any woman worthy of the Anderson's time.

But while the Anderson's had a reputation for being distant, almost cold to those around them, Blaine had quite the reputation of being warm and inviting to new friends, which raised eyebrows in the social circles of everyone around town. But Blaine didn't seem to care himself, so no one spoke of it ever. After all, who in their right minds can resist such a charmer that is Mr. Blaine Anderson?

The fact remained that Blaine was still terrified of weddings. This particular day was no exception; in fact, it may have solidified his fears, for today was his wedding rehearsal to Miss Fabray. Of course Blaine and Miss Fabray did court for a little while before the engagement, but it was more of a chaperoned evening than quality time alone. However, on this day, both families had agreed beforehand that time alone should be allowed, albeit inside of the Anderson's house with the parents nearby.

It was then that Blaine realized how exceptionally dull Miss Fabray turned out to be. There was nothing wrong with her looks; Blaine would say that it was one of her best features as a matter of fact. It was, rather, that she was not educated at the same level as Blaine, and it painfully showed in her lack of knowledge of literature like Peter Pan and Arthur Conan Doyle, who happened to be Blaine's favorite author. When he had asked Miss Fabray what her favorite Sherlock tale was, she had given him a look that made it seem as though he had asked her something too complex for her understanding.

The more he conversed with Miss Fabray, the more convinced that she was not the woman that he wished to spend the rest of his life with. Nonetheless, a promise is a promise, even if it is one that Blaine could not find to bring himself to fulfill with all his heart.

It appeared that Miss Fabray felt the same way, as she did not try to hold any conversations with him and appeared to check her purse every few minutes for her powder and small hand mirror.

It was the rehearsal dinner that evening that set him off on a walk, after having to explain to his many guests what his new project was and how he is 'thrilled' to be settling down at last, although the lie felt bitter on his tongue. After what seemed to be an eternity in the Anderson Hall, he dismissed himself from his present company, feigning over needing some oxygen away from the smoke-filled air (Blaine was never one to enjoy the delight of a pipe; he was more interested in making conversation and nursing his scotch throughout a night).

He grabbed his top hat and cane from the hallway in front of the door and started his journey to his favorite spot in New York: Central Park.

Yes Blaine had taken a project in this park because it was one of his favorite places to go. Sure it had deteriorated a bit from its opening 50 years ago, but Blaine remembered coming to this place with wide eyes and wonderment that in a city that is so crowded and so filled with new buildings that seem to stretch forever, there is a place where you can walk and smell nature.

So on Blaine's worst day of his life so far, he decided to go on this walk and take it in before his days as single bachelor were done.

This was also the only time he was allowed to think of his…other thoughts that plagued him as he slept. Blaine knew that he was different from everyone else in the community, but he didn't realize how different until one night, he awoke from a dream where he was rolling around his bed enjoying in some human delights. When he was fully awake, he realized the figure he dreamed of was not a woman, but rather a man he had never seen before, with chestnut hair and beautiful blue eyes, skin pale as his mother's porcelain dolls she collected.

Blaine never told anyone of this dream, but it became a regular occurrence in his apartment to have it night after night. He was not afraid of anybody finding out he had these dreams, but rather he was afraid that he would have these dreams in front of Miss Fabray, and she would put it together that Blaine would prefer the company of a man he had never met over his new wife whom he was supposed to love.

Love. Blaine scoffed at the word as he passed by a beggar on the road. He did not believe that he could ever feel such an emotion ever, especially not with a woman like Miss Fabray.

"Quinn," He had to remind himself again, "After all, she will become your wife."

The thought alone made him quiver with disappointment.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of footprints behind him. He stopped his walking, and turned in his spot. Puzzled, he found the beggar he had past a moment ago following him.

"Please sire," the beggar asked him, "Can you spare some change for me? We be having some rough times since the beginning of this Great War, and I have lost me job in the army,"

Blaine felt sympathy, but when digging into his pockets realized that all he had was his pocket watch, he had left all his money at the Hall. "I am sorry sir but I do not appear to have any-"

Then Blaine felt a presence behind him, and the world went dark, as if he had just fallen asleep, even though Blaine knew what had happened. He was being robbed.

When Blaine finally awoke, he realized at once that he was leaning against a rock he had never seen before. He also realized that it was daylight out, and he had been out all night. Puzzled, he looked down at his pockets and noticed that although he had been robbed of his cane, top hat, and coat, his pocket watch was still there, ticking obediently for its master.

Blaine stood up and shook his head a bit. He started to dust himself off, and was just about to continue his day. After all, it was the day before his wedding, and it appeared that he had some explaining to do to his parents as to why he had left for some fresh air and never came back to his party.

Yet, when he looked up to head back down to the edge of the park to his apartment, it appeared that he was no longer in Central Park. Or rather, he was no longer in HIS Central Park. The skyline also appeared to be different, and in fact the people around him were giving him quite the looks, and it appeared that they were wearing a different fashion from the day before.

"That's odd," Blaine muses to himself, "It appears like I have fainted for longer than a day,"

Blaine decided that he should acquire a newspaper to see what day it was. After all, he had some real explaining to do if he had not shown up to his own wedding. After looking around, however, he could not find a newspaper boy, as common it was for him to find, to buy a newspaper. He decided to try his luck with a plump black woman walking by, umbrella in hand.

"Excuse me, ma'am? I would like to inquire if you knew where I could get a newspaper to check the date? It appears like I have lost track of the day."

She turned and looked him straight up and down, as if to see if he was serious. "You do know that Halloween isn't for another couple months, right?"

Blaine stared quizzically at her for a moment, "No, ma'am, I actually do not know why 'Halloween' would factor into my knowledge of the date today. Perhaps you can inform me. Is it June sixth and twenty of 1917?"

She now looked at him like he was crazy, "I beg your pardon, I don't know who you think you are, but it is not 1917. It is August 7, 2017 and if I were you I would go seek help."