"Do you really hate the job that much?" Kurt asked after a while, the traffic below buzzing and clanking. They continued to stare at the world below, not at each other.

"No not really," Blaine said, "I think I hate what it means. I hate that I'm loved despite being horrible, I hate that I'm revered for good genes. It's like I want to be the worst possible man I can be, just to prove that they're all wrong."

Kurt looked at him carefully without saying a word and Blaine instantly felt like he was being judged. He took a step back, distancing himself from Kurt and the notion that he should better himself.

"Don't look at me like that," Blaine said, almost scowling.

"Like what?" Kurt said quietly, much more interested in how Blaine was reacting than how he appeared to Blaine.

"Like you judge me and think badly of me," Blaine said, "I'm not so different from the rest really; I'm just honest about how it's changed me. Everyone else pretends they are perfect while doing drugs or starving themselves. I'm honest about my hang-ups and demons."

"Are you?" Kurt said suddenly, his eyes wide as if to question Blaine's very truth. Blaine was surprised.

"Yes, I am what I am."

"Oh really," Kurt sneered, suddenly sick of the whole conversation. "One minute you're all over me like a bad rash, desperate to get in my pants then you hate me for being perfect and make my life a misery. Now you appear honest and contrite, careful of your words and intelligent. Which is the real Blaine?"

Blaine didn't know. He was surprised that someone had called him up on it – his persona, his way of protecting himself from harm, was fragile and changeable he knew but to have Kurt question him on it, completely threw him.

"Who are you?"

"I don't know," Blaine said simply, feeling miserable leaning on the railing, his hands together in front of him.

"Well maybe you should find out," Kurt said, suddenly kind, his eyes blinking in the slight glare of the lights in the city.

"I don't know how to do that," Blaine said quietly, ashamed to admit that much to someone he barely knew. He looked up at Kurt, wondering what power this boy had over him. He wasn't much younger than Blaine but he already seemed to know so much about the world and Blaine himself. Perhaps Kurt didn't need educating about the fickle business of beauty and perfection; maybe Kurt could teach him a few things.

"Do what you love, see the people that are important to you, visit the places that inspire you," Kurt said, "See what comes out of life when you really live it."

Blaine considered what was said and nodded.

"Will you help me?" Blaine looked like such a sweet, lost boy that Kurt almost did a double take. Surely this wasn't the cocky, obnoxiously sexy guy from the party a couple of days ago?

"I don't know what I could help you with but I guess I could try."

Blaine smiled – a small smile that seemed to catch him unaware but his eyes twinkled and for the first time in quite a while he was looking forward to the future and not wondering when he would next see his face in a magazine.

The magazine spread for GQ came out the following week. Glorious black and white shots showed both their debonair and playfully carefree sides. In many of the shots Kurt looked so wonderfully collected, with just a hint of unruly detachment as if he didn't want to belong to the austere and composed world. With just a hint of stubble, Blaine looked carefree in his suspenders, his pink sunglasses hanging over the side. Kurt looked at the photo and knew that he was the only one that knew the truth – it was all a charade and well acted. They both looked in a state of undress, as if returning from a party and Blaine looked over the spread, sitting alone in a coffee shop and noticed Kurt's practiced poses and serious expression. He wondered if Kurt ever got ruffled or annoyed.

They had exchanged numbers that night atop the Rockefeller Center but neither of them had contacted the other as if afraid to start a conversation and see where it might lead. Blaine knew that the ball was in his court, it would have to be his decision to take Kurt up on his offer to help him but as he had returned to his lonely apartment, Blaine knew he wouldn't do it. As he walked home alone his mind whirred and seemed to slow down during the journey as if it was finally processing the conversations that had taken place at 850 feet. He couldn't believe he had revealed so much of himself to Kurt and just like after a painful chemical peel on the face, he wanted to wrap himself up protectively and hide away.

Nick and Tabitha were both pleased with the final photography spread and both got in touch with Blaine separately to tell him. Tabitha had heard only good things about the feedback from the shoot and already interest had increased for the two of them. More offers came in for Blaine, making Nick busier than ever and in a position to be extremely picky. Blaine maintained that he would need a week off before his next big shoot and Nick agreed understanding Blaine's need for a rest. There was to be a party for the next issue of GQ and they were both invited but Blaine had a sudden urge to hide away. He tentatively text Kurt to ask if he was going.

Are you?

... was the only reply Blaine got, which infuriated him. He felt like a teenager all over again checking if his friend was going somewhere before he went there himself but the idea of going alone suddenly scared Blaine.

Yeah, I'm going.... I think

... was Blaine's reply and he nervously waited for Kurt to answer.

Ok, I'll go.

Even more infuriating.

Blaine arrived deliberately late, determined to enter only when Kurt had been there for a while. It felt pathetic but he had a tendency to feel disarmed around Kurt and he couldn't afford to feel any more isolated or exposed. As he entered Kurt was surrounded by people, the only indication that it was Kurt was the chestnut hair that he could just about see above all the people. Kurt was smiling politely at someone's comment and clearly discussing the pictures that Blaine and Kurt had shot together. Blaine had only known Kurt a few weeks but he could already tell that Kurt was only being polite and that he secretly wished all the sycophants away.

As Blaine came closer, Kurt seemed to be able to sense him approach and he looked up, his eyes softening slightly when he realised he had arrived. Kurt gently touched the girl's arm in front of him, whispering something close but she seemed to feel placated and he walked away from the group, coming straight towards Blaine.

"You came," Kurt said simply.

"Yeah. I thought I'd better show my face."

Kurt looked around, finally taking in his surroundings and imagining how Blaine was viewing it all.

"It's quite a party isn't it?" Kurt said after a while.

"Yes," Blaine said, looking around at the people he barely knew, beautiful and austere. "It feels a little crazy here actually." Blaine avoided Kurt's eyes as Kurt was looking at him carefully.

"You want to escape again don't you?" Kurt asked, a slight laugh to his voice and Blaine looked at him harshly as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Well maybe I should do the rounds, drink a few drinks," Blaine said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and he turned, leaving Kurt wondering what had just happened.

Blaine didn't really know. He soon flittered around the room, grabbing drinks where he could, talking to people he didn't really know and the following day he wouldn't even remember their names or what they had discussed. Kurt had conversations with people he knew, including Tabitha who invited him to do another shoot soon, already sharing her ideas. He stayed for a few hours but as soon as he was bored and he could feel the loneliness creep in, he left. It would hit him every so often in a crowded room, away from people he would normally gravitate to, the feeling would travel along his arms like a tingle and he would glance at the people he was talking to and know that he needed to leave, that it wouldn't matter if he stayed. He took one more glance at Blaine, who was talking to Sebastian and laughing as if he had just said the funniest thing he had ever heard. Kurt swallowed the bile he could feel rise at the sight of Blaine putting on his mask again and not for the first time he wondered if Blaine would ever want to be real enough to have a proper friendship with anyone. As he grabbed his coat he considered the many ways Blaine confused him and how he had revealed little snippets of himself only to guard himself again with an iron mask that was irrefutable and solid. He didn't have time for someone who was so unsure of himself, that wouldn't trust a single person and that was scared to reveal a shred of the real person beneath the shallow shell. He was just about to leave when he heard a ruckus behind him and found Blaine and Sebastian stumbling out of the party room, laughing hysterically and trying to hold each other up.

Kurt stood still and watched as they went to retrieve their coats, hands touching and Blaine's lips wandering over the skin of Sebastian's neck. He seemed to be having a lot of fun until he suddenly noticed Kurt and he stopped.

Time seemed to freeze as he realised Kurt was present and watching them carefully. Blaine's eyes were fixed on Kurt, a serious expression on his face, his brown eyes, golden and swirling with desire and need. His hands continued to grip Sebastian but Sebastian seemed to sense that Blaine's attention was suddenly diverted and he stopped too, glancing from Kurt and Blaine in curiosity.

Sebastian whispered something in Blaine's ear and giggled, obviously a snide remark about Kurt but Blaine's lips slowly twisted into some sort of smile, while the rest of his face remained impassive and controlled. He finally blinked and turned away from Kurt to face Sebastian and resumed their conversation. Kurt blinked and left.

Kurt decided to walk home, his insides twisted and nervous. There had been something fleeting in Blaine's eyes, something lost and troubled and Blaine had known and recognised that Kurt understood. Kurt knew everything and Blaine had at once hated it and craved to be closer. Kurt walked home determined he wouldn't let Blaine Anderson bother him, that he wouldn't want to save him but as he fell asleep that night, he knew that there was so much more to the obnoxious model he had seen that night.

There were photos the following day – photos of Sebastian and Blaine leaving the party and getting into a taxi, giggling and wobbly, clearly intoxicated, clearly horny. Hands wandered in the pictures, which only caused more giggles and one picture showed Sebastian leaning in close to whisper into Blaine's ear, warm and intoxicating, Blaine's face one of desire and want. Blaine was asleep late in the afternoon when Nick banged on his door to alert him of today's news.

"Urgh, what are you doing here?" Blaine said as he finally opened the door to an impatient Nick.

"This," Nick said, brandishing the newspaper and showing Blaine the photos. "This is why I am here."

It took quite a while for Blaine to look over the photos and understand what he was seeing, his eyes flitting from left to right until he thought he might throw up.

"What is this?" Blaine asked but Nick only made his way inside, pushing past a confused Blaine who was trying to hold himself up by the doorway. He slowly followed him inside.

"Blaine I don't know why you keep doing this?" Nick said, his face in his hands as he looked up from the sofa. "What is going on?"

Blaine sat down opposite him, looking down, not sure how to answer.

"Well?"

"Oh for fuck's sake Nick, you're not my dad," Blaine said, suddenly exasperated and annoyed, "This has nothing to do with you."

Nick looked up, hurt and anger etched clearly on his face. He looked over Blaine's dishevelled appearance and sighed.

"Ok Blaine," he said calmly, "I get it, you're having some kind of breakdown and I wouldn't be a good friend to you if I didn't notice and mention it. I worry about you, this looks bad, this looks really bad." He held up the newspaper again but Blaine merely closed his eyes, trying to shut out the world.

"You do realise what this will do to your career?" Nick said calmly and as Blaine didn't answer he continued. "You'll look trivial and sloppy. People will suspect you have a drinking problem, or worse an issue with drugs. They'll think you won't turn up on time or will be a liability. This doesn't look sexy or beautiful Blaine."

"Who the fucking hell said I wanted to look sexy or beautiful?" Blaine shouted, standing up despite his banging head. "I don't Nick, I don't want to look sexy and I'm certainly not beautiful, so shut the fuck up and get out of my apartment. Get the fuck out!" He pointed to the door for emphasis and Nick just looked at him, his mouth open, his eyes wide. He'd never heard Blaine shout at him like this, they'd never had such a row.

"Blaine, I don't understand why you're doing this," he whispered, trying to come closer to Blaine as he stood. Blaine brushed off his hands that were trying to reach out. "I just want to help."

"No you don't," Blaine said, suddenly quiet and defeated, "You don't want to help, you merely want to judge and demonise me." He lowered his head and Nick thought he could hear tears in his voice. "Just leave Nick," he said, "Just leave."

Nick watched him carefully then decided there was nothing he could do if Blaine didn't want to talk and he walked to the door. He turned just before the door, back to Blaine who was still standing with his head lowered, his arms hanging weakly by his side.

"You and Kurt were invited onto the Late Show with David Letterman but considering the circumstances of last night I declined on your behalf. I thought you might need some time to recover and make up excuses for your behaviour. I'll see you in a few days." And he left, Blaine sinking to the sofa upon hearing the door click shut, his head in his hands and he let the tears fall, hot and fierce upon his face.

Kurt had been asked as a last minute add-in because some famous actress was unable to make her interview and Kurt had been available. He was rushed into the studio which was to film the interview that afternoon so it could be aired that evening. He was barely acknowledged as he entered, plonked in a make-up chair and his hair tidied and styled. He was whizzed off again to the green room where he waited for his announcement.

The interview was pleasant and David Letterman, despite the short notice and the young appeal of Kurt's modelling, seemed to know quite a lot about Kurt's burgeoning career. He asked him about his current spread for August and GQ magazines and what it was like being a model. Kurt answered the questions with modesty and good-humour but soon the questions turned slightly more personal and regarded his co-worker, the inimitable Blaine Anderson.

"So what is it like working with him?" David Letterman asked, smirking slightly as if he knew the answer Kurt would give. "Quite a diva I hear."

"Slightly," Kurt said, smiling pleasantly, giving the impression that he found it quite appealing and didn't have any issues with the dark-haired model. "He is quite a pleasure to work with really," he said, as if he himself was surprised, "He knows his job well."

"Anything to say about the rumours regarding Sebastian Smythe?" he asked.

Kurt had seen the photos, of course he had, but he didn't want to discuss such personal matters on a television show. He smiled politely.

"No, it's not really my place to say," he said calmly.

"So Blaine Anderson is really nice and you love him dearly?" David Letterman said sarcastically, hoping to get a rise out of Kurt and finally succeeding.

"No I wouldn't say that," he said smirking, "I hate his guts but I can't deny that he is obnoxiously sexy." He laughed to make it quite clear he was joking and the audience loved it, clapping and showing their approval with laughter. The interview was soon wrapped up and Kurt left the studio, again feeling like he could now remove the shell and wallow at home, huddled next to his boyfriend arm to watch repeats of Gossip Girl.

He didn't realise Blaine would watch the interview at home, alone that night. He was huddled on the sofa, buried amongst his blankets and feeling too warm but not wanting to expose himself anymore than he had done that week. He knew that Kurt was only saying those things to get a laugh from the audience, to shut up the interviewer but it hurt that Kurt would think badly of him, even slightly. To hear him say that he hated his guts made Blaine's stomach sink painfully and he didn't really know why it bothered him so much. He couldn't remember much about the night before but he could remember Kurt's blue piercing eyes searching his own as he prepared to leave with Sebastian. He knew he was being judged slightly but it was more than that. Kurt seemed to know everything that he was trying to hide. Blaine had panicked when Kurt had asked him if he wanted to escape, because he had wanted to escape. It had been obvious to Kurt, and Blaine had wanted to run and hide. Not from the people that surrounded him at the party, the sycophants and fellow models, rather he had wanted to run from Kurt, who already seemed to know him so well. He could feel his wall go up and he had flirted with Sebastian, knowing exactly what that would lead to. Blaine wasn't naïve enough to think that Nick didn't have a point about his image but he also knew that it would cause no lasting damage. As much as they didn't want to admit it, companies secretly loved a little bit of gossip and scandal surrounding their models, as long as it didn't damage the brand. Blaine knew the only damage he would cause would be to himself.

As he watched Kurt on television, deftly answering questions and appearing polite and educated, he was jealous that Kurt didn't appear burdened with the business. He was successful and Blaine only felt alone and pathetic, sitting on his sofa in only his underwear, amongst take-out wrappers and empty soda cans.

He would wallow no longer. He left the mess but returned to his bedroom to shower and change. He would find out Kurt's address from Tabitha and go over there. He had to prove himself and if Kurt had admitted on national television that he found Blaine sexy, than there was hope for them yet.