Kurt’s interview was on a Wednesday. He woke early, dressed quickly in the outfit that had been hanging on the back of his door for days, and if Sebastian was slightly too enthusiastic with buttoning the places Kurt couldn’t reach, and let his hand linger too long when he tightened Kurt’s vest at the back, Kurt chose to ignore it.

One coffee, then another, and one more for luck meant that by the time Kurt actually left the apartment, he was practically vibrating with anticipation. He felt good. He was proud of his collection, and the fact that he’d even got an interview when he was up against so many bona fide fashion students was surely a sign of some talent, at least? He told himself he was excited rather than nervous when he pressed the buzzer outside Grant’s building, eager rather than over compensating when he shook Kayla’s hand, focused rather than tense when he was shown in to Grant’s office.

He was terrified.

He gripped tightly to his portfolio as he approached the desk, tried to smile as Grant stood to shake his hand.

“Good to finally meet you Mr. Hummel” Grant said, plucking the sketchbook from Kurt’s hand and placing it on the table.

“Y-you too” Kurt stuttered out, and Grant laughed, not unkindly.

“You’re nervous” he said, a statement rather than a question, and Kurt nodded quickly, deciding that honesty was the best policy when his nerves were right there for anyone within a five-mile radius to see.

“Don’t be” Grant said calmly.

“Your collection was the best we saw”.

Grant smiled, and Kurt felt like a cloud he hadn’t even noticed had lifted. There was light streaming through the window of Grant’s 32nd floor office. The walls were lined with photos of models wearing designs that Kurt recognized as classic Grant Halliwell, and when he took a step back, his foot sank deeply into the plush cream carpet.

“I could get used to this” Kurt said aloud, and Grant chuckled, gesturing for Kurt to sit.

“You may have to” Grant said matter of factly as he opened Kurt’s sketchbook.

“Now lets start with you talking me through the themes”.

“It’s about…searching” Kurt began nervously.

“It kind of represents that state of being where you’re striving for something, and looking for it everywhere, but the reality is you don’t know where to start. So your mind is constantly focused on this thing, whatever it is, but outwardly you’re just trying to be ok, or at least appear it. That was what I was going for with the collection. It’s all quite tailored, and contained, and that represents the façade, but then I’ve included a distressed panel or an unpicked seam. That’s the reality seeping through. You’re unraveling, and if you look closely enough it shows”.

Grant nodded, his face giving nothing away at this juncture.

“And the logo?” he asked.

“Yeah, the single star” Kurt swiped his thumb across it on the sketchbook that lay between them.

“It’s a bit of hope, you know? A single star in a city where you don’t ordinarily see them. It might be a bit cliché…”

“Its genius” Grant cut Kurt off his whole face seeming to burst into a grin, and suddenly his hand was in Kurt’s, shaking enthusiastically.

“I…thank you” Kurt stuttered out.

“Really Kurt, the whole collection is inspired” Grant continued.

“I knew that as soon as I looked at your designs, of course, but I sensed that they were more than just designs to you. Yes Kurt…I mean, hearing you talk about the collection just confirms to me that you have something that goes far beyond talent. Tell me, if it isn’t too personal…was it, the collection, inspired by personal experience?

Kurt faltered for just a second. Of course it was. He wished he could honestly say no; could claim artistic license and pretend he had it all together, but…of course it was.

“I…yes. Yeah it was.” he admitted.

Grant nodded, standing, walking slowly around the desk until he was beside Kurt.

“Then whatever it was you were searching for, I think you found it, Kurt Hummel. Of course we’d love to have your collection in the show”.

And then Grant’s hand was clapping Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt stood and let himself be pulled into a slightly awkward hug, and then Kyla was there with champagne, because they’d known, of course, and so, somehow, had Kurt, that this was the way it was going to go.

I have to tell Sebastian, he thought, jubilant.

And then, more sober this time, I want to tell Blaine.

*

It was raining as Blaine ran from the entrance of the school to his car, cursing his shoes for their awful grip as he slid precariously on the fallen leaves.

It had been a hard session. The kids were beginning to feel the pressures of college applications, and tensions were running unusually high. Ashlee had told Scarlett that she “wasn’t technically good enough” to major in theatre, which, Blaine reasoned, was probably true at this point, but he was counting on time to fix that. Nick retaliated on Scarlett’s behalf, Cameron took offence in place of Ashlee, and Blaine, who was mild mannered and polite even at the worst of times, had bellowed above them all that if they didn’t grow up, none of them would be accepted in to college at all.

When they’d left for the day, he had sunk to the floor and cried because he never wanted to be that teacher who relied on anger and aggression to get by.

So yeah, he was tense. He sat quietly in the car for a moment, wishing he smoked, or had coffee on tap, or something that would act as a vice and make him feel better. He rested his head on the steering wheel, closed his eyes.

His phone began to vibrate loudly on the passenger seat, and Blaine reached for it without looking up, answered without checking the caller display.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe.”

Blaine exhaled when he heard Dan’s voice, sat up and relaxed back in his seat.

“Hey you, you good?”

“Yeah, I just have a proposition.” Dan continued, and Blaine mmm’d to show his interest.

“I know you get tired when you’ve had college and taught on the same day, so what do you say to picking me up and we’ll go out to eat tonight?” Dan asked, and Blaine sunk deeper in to the seat as he said “I really love you, you know”.

Dan laughed.

“I know. Now get here so we can go!”

“I’m on my way.” Blaine said, already fumbling to get his key in to the ignition as he hung up and began to drive.

*

It seemed as if every day brought a different meeting, or a different decision to be made about the collection, and Kurt was exhausted but absolutely in his element. On Wednesday he met the seamstress who’s team would be bringing his designs to life, on Thursday he provisionally selected his models from a ridiculously extensive portfolio. He’d barely seen Grant at all, the ethos of the scheme preferring that Kurt went it alone as much as possible, so it was nice to see a familiar face when, on Friday, he was called in to the office to talk marketing, and press, and names for the collection.

“Good to see you, prodigy” Grant said as Kurt entered the office, passing another of the young designers as she left looking ragged and overworked.

“How are you doing?”

“Good but exhausted” Kurt admitted, and Grant nodded as he slid a waiting coffee across the table towards Kurt.

“I thought we’d start with the name, if that’s ok?” Grant asked, and Kurt nodded as he sipped his coffee, wincing at the bitterness.

“As you said, it’s about searching, which in itself isn’t a terrible name…” Grant thought aloud, and Kurt put his mug down.

“That isn’t it though.” Grant continued, and Kurt visibly relaxed in relief. Yes, it was about searching, but it was so much more than that.

“I thought Soul Searching, for a while.” Grant carried on, and barely flinched when Kurt shook his head.

“No, you’re right, that isn’t it either. Did you have any ideas?”

Kurt didn’t, actually, but he began to speak anyway, hoping that articulating his thoughts might spark something, might bring to the surface something he didn’t even know was there.

“I’ve been thinking about the collection a lot, obviously, and I think maybe it goes a bit…deeper than just the idea of searching that I first described to you.”

Grant nodded, gesturing for Kurt to continue.

“Maybe, I think, it’s about the faith to keep searching, even when you’re getting nowhere. You’re looking, and it’s kind of killing you that nothing is happening, but something makes you carry on. It’s that idea that when you’re supposed to, you’ll find…whatever it is. Completely by accident. It’ll happen, and you have to believe that. It’s just a question of when.”

“So like fate then?” Grant interrupted, and yeah, there it was.

Kurt grinned.

“More like Serendipity.” he said.

*

Dan’s office was empty when Blaine arrived, so he made himself comfortable at his boyfriend’s desk, and began flicking through the piles of planetarium-related paperwork that he’d never quite understand.

“Hey babe” Dan said as he walked in, walking around the desk to kiss Blaine hello, smiling when his boyfriend mmm’d in appreciation and pulled Dan down on to his lap.

“Hard day?” Dan asked between kisses, and Blaine let out a tiny groan and said “Shut up and just keep kissing me”.

So Dan did.

Hands tangled in hair, smiles touched smiles, and it was one of those moments where Blaine truly had eyes for only one.

And then he felt the cool silk brush against his neck, just for a second before it was gone.

“What was that?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before leaning in to capture Dan’s lips again, and once again he felt the soft sweep of…what was that?

He sat back, looked at Dan. Saw it. Black silk with printed skulls, draped around Dan’s neck like a lighthouse, like a warning.

Blaine stiffened.

“What?” Dan asked, and Blaine pulled the scarf from his boyfriend, passed it between his own palms.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, pointedly not looking at the label, not now, not yet.

“Lost property” Dan answered, the confusion evident in his voice.

“I was going to take it to reception on the way out but…why?”

Blaine held the fabric to his face.

“I just really love these scarves” he lied, and Dan raised an eyebrow.

‘It isn’t very…you” he pointed out, and Blaine thought quickly.

“It reminds me of the first boy I had a crush on,” Blaine said, and Dan smiled.

“Ohhhh” he almost breathed out, pulling Blaine’s mouth closer, nipping lightly at his bottom lip.

“So it reminds you of your sexual awakening, and wanting to flirt, and kiss, and…”

Blaine laughed, cutting Dan off with a kiss.

“Yes, ok, that.” He said, and his voice was playful and flirtatious but his soul was shaken.

“Shall we go?” Dan asked, lifting himself off of Blaine’s lap, and Blaine stood, draping the scarf around his neck.

He waited until Dan wasn’t looking, gathering his bags, straightening his desk, before he allowed himself to sneak a look.

He did it quickly, and he had to check, once and then again, just to be sure.

The tag read only the name of the designer.

Not Kurt. This scarf had never belonged to Kurt.

Blaine made a choked sound, disguised it as a cough when Dan looked up.

“Where do I take this?” Blaine asked gesturing to the scarf. He suddenly wanted it off of him, felt uncomfortable at how scared he’d been, how nervous.

How excited.

“Reception, ground floor” Dan said, and Blaine blew a kiss as he walked out of the office, rounded the corner, and slumped against the nearest wall.

Shit.

What would he have done, he wondered, if he’d looked at the scarf and seen Kurt’s name written there, a remnant of a night never forgotten? How would he have explained to his fiancée that they couldn’t hand it in, couldn’t give it back, because whoever had dropped it at a planetarium miles from New York City on a cold late Fall afternoon was never the intended owner? That scarf belonged to Kurt, belonged to Blaine, and once he found it – once, not if, he thought – Blaine would never let it go.

How would he have hidden the inevitable tears? The bittersweet sadness? The joy?

Blaine pulled the scarf harshly from his neck.

This had to stop.

*

On Monday, a session had been called for Kurt to address his team. He bristled with nerves every time he so much as thought that phrase – his team – the combined term for his models, and publicists, and marketing people. He would describe the concept, Grant explained, give them some kind of insight in to how he saw the finished product – because his collection that was born in the garden in Ohio was a product now – and act as a sounding board for any ideas or concerns they might have.

The assembled company was kind of overwhelming, Kurt thought as he walked in to the boardroom on the top floor of Grant’s office building. He made a beeline for Kyla, the only person he recognized in the room, her blonde hair a beacon among the dark and willowy models he’d chosen for the show.

“Hey baby” she called as he approached, handing him a coffee as he came to a stop.

“You alright?”

Kurt nodded, and Kyla laughed, seeing straight through his cool façade.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” she asked, and Kurt’s face just relaxed as he said “Oh my god, so much”.

“Some of the others fell on their faces” Kyla whispered, and Kurt didn’t know whether to be buoyed or worried by that news. What if he was the worst? What if this was a test to make sure he was up to the challenge? What if…

“You’re up Kurt” Grant called, interrupting his internal monologue, and suddenly there was no more time for over-thinking, because the crowd were clapping, and Kyla was guiding him towards a small podium at the front of the room, and he was talking.

“Hi everyone. I’m Kurt, and Serendipity is my collection” he began, and the room erupted. Everyone was applauding, and catcalling their encouragement, and Kyla winked at him, and suddenly Kurt was ready. He could do this.

“So, the idea for Serendipity came about when my brother Finn noticed a common theme in my drawings, and I was inspired to make it in to a collection. As you’ve probably heard from Grant, it’s about searching, and the idea that if you believe you’ll find something, and you keep trying, it’ll come to you eventually. We’ll get to the style of the set and the press stuff in just a second, but does anyone have any questions about the concept so far?”

“The idea that what’s meant for you will come to you…” one of the models, a tall girl with pale skin and blue-black hair, piped up “Is that the same kind of thing as fate, and the stars aligning?”

Kurt could have kissed her. In the space of a sentence, he was back in a midtown coffee shop. It was freezing, and his silk scarf was doing nothing to keep him warm, but it felt amazing on his bare skin. He was drinking coffee with a man he’d met only minutes before, counting only on minutes more before they’d drain their mugs and go in their separate directions, scattering like light from a prism, never to collide again. He was talking about fate, about destiny, and without using the words about a kiss that was yet to happen, a collection that was yet to be designed. It all began there, in that coffee shop, with that conversation. With that man.

And suddenly, Kurt understood in a way he hadn’t before.

“Yes” he said calmly “But we’re the stars. It’s us that need to align to make it happen”.

There was a buzz of conversation as the team took that in, and Kurt stood proud on his podium, and thought If you could see me now.

*

His speech was, by all accounts, a triumph. He’d answered questions, and made them laugh, and when it was over everyone stood and applauded, and then they all branched off to begin work on his collection. His collection. Kurt felt sick with anticipation at the thought.

“Hey, Kurt?” his thoughts were interrupted by a pretty brunette who he hadn’t been introduced to yet.

“Hi” he said, holding out a hand.

She introduced herself as Alana, his head of publicity, and for a second Kurt thought she looked entirely too young for such a title, but then remembered he was the designer here, and was hardly ancient himself.

“Just a quick thing really” she said, guiding him towards a quiet corner.

“I just wondered what kind of angle you wanted to take with your press? Some of the other designers are staying out of it completely, making it entirely about the collection and nothing to do with them as people, but I like you, I think you’re interesting, and I think if you’re willing to be involved, we could do something really cool”.

“What are our options?” Kurt asked. He knew nothing about press, but the performer in him had stirred at Alana’s mention of his involvement. He’d probably say yes, he thought.

“Well it all depends on the kind of scale we go for” she began.

“Obviously we’ve never done this before, but we’re kind of hoping that the fashion press will pick up on Graduate Fashion Week and run with it. I’m thinking interviews, style pieces, profile pieces if you’re happy for your life to be public like that?”

Kurt nodded.

“If we get this right,” she continued “it could be that nobody could pick up a fashion magazine without reading Kurt Hummel’s name. Everyone you’ve ever known will be watching your success, from Alaska to Hawaii. People you’ve met once will be picking up Vogue and telling their friends that they know you. Maybe not the best thing if you don’t want to be found!” she joked.

Kurt froze.

People you’ve met once…

Everyone you’ve ever met will be watching your success…

Maybe not the best thing if you don’t want to be found…

But Kurt did.

“I’m in” he said, and what he meant was “Just try not to find me now”.

*

Their schedules meant that they didn’t get to really talk that often, so when Blaine and Trent found time to catch up, it always felt like something of an event.

Blaine called on a Thursday, and they talked for almost an hour about weddings and college; Trent’s latest dalliances and Blaine’s fiancée.

It was nice, Blaine thought, to talk to somebody who knew him so well, but had no idea about ‘The Kurt Thing’. He was encouraged, expected even, to gush about his perfect fiancée, and their perfect wedding, and their perfect life. Saying it aloud helped, Blaine realized. Hearing the words reminded him how lucky he was.

“I just love him so much” he said, and it felt true, and honest, because it was. Blaine loving Dan wasn’t even disputed. It was Blaine maybe, potentially, probably knowing he could love somebody else too that caused the problem.

It was almost 9pm when Trent regretfully announced that he had to go.

“What are you up to?” Blaine asked.

“A friend of mine got picked for Graduate Fashion Week and we’re celebrating” Trent announced.

“The way he talks about it, he’ll be featured in every magazine from here to the Arctic. It sounds amazing, Blaine, such a great opportunity. I don’t know him too well, I’m closer to his roommate, but I’m happy for him, you know?”

“I’ll look out for the photos” Blaine said, and he meant it. It was nice to see good people making good, even if he didn’t know them personally.

“We’ll talk soon.” Trent promised as they said goodbye, and Blaine was smiling as they hung up, thinking about a night on the couch, a film, some take-out, Dan.

It was hours later, sitting up in bed waiting for Dan to brush his teeth, that Blaine replayed the phone call.

It was hours later that he realized he’d forgotten to ask the designer’s name.