I moved across the booth to snuggle close to Blaine.  "Want to know something?" I asked.

"What?"

"I think I know what my dad and Carole are talking about," Blaine looked down at me and raised his eyebrows, waiting patiently for me to continue.  "It's Finn.  I think they're going to try to get me and him to bond again."

Finn was Carole's son.  A couple of my dad's other girlfriends had kids, but I had never met them before; nobody had stuck around as long as Carole had.  I had only met Finn twice before, and the last time we'd been dragged to the zoo in an effort to get along.

Finn seemed about as interested in "getting along" with me as I did with him.  He was bigger than me, towering over me even though we were the same age, and seemed determined to never let me forget it.

I scrunched my nose up at the memory of him knocking me over in his hurry to see the lions and then shoving me aside when we reached the otters, which were my favorite.

"Why do you think that?" Blaine asked, breaking me from my memory.

"Little things," I said.  "Like Carole keeps mentioning how many things we have in common.  And my dad said the other day that he's been meaning to make a trip to the stadium this season..."  My voice trailed off, betraying my lack of interest in baseball.

"Maybe this time you two will have fun together," Blaine said.

I looked up at him dubiously and he laughed.  "I'm just saying. You could make a new friend."

"I don't want a new friend," I pouted, in my head saying You're my best friend, that's enough.  I shook my head to clear it.  "Okay, new topic.  Guess what day Thursday is."

Blaine pursed his lips in thought, "Hmm, no idea."

I sat up and glared at him.  "C'mon, Blaine.  You do too know.  This isn't funny."

"Valentine's Day?"

"Stop it!" I chided, hitting him lightly on the arm.  He just grinned back at me.  "You know what Thursday is, Blaine.  It's my birthday!"

Blaine's eyes glinted at me as he smiled.  "Oh, yeah, now I remember.  Wow, you're getting so old, Kurt."

I stuck my tongue out at him.  "I think my dad is throwing me a party," I say excitedly.

"Mhmm," Blaine hummed.

"Well, I don't really care about a party, though.  What I really want is a real china tea set.  You remember, like we saw in that window in SoHo?"

Blaine nodded at me.

"What's wrong?  Cat got your--" I started to say but then stopped when my eyes caught my dad signing the check and Carole getting up.  Looked like our time was up.  It had been another wonderful afternoon, though, for me and Blaine.

"Okay, here they come, Blaine," I whispered, straightening up in my seat.  "Look invisible."

My dad walked toward our table with Carole in tow, navigating the crowded restaurant with ease.  It was crazy how much like a New Yorker he looked.  No one would have guessed that the man was from a small town in Ohio, much less worked with cars for the better part of his life.  A lot had happened in five years.

Burt ruffled my hair and smiled as I glared up at him and attempted to pat down my hair into its usual swoop.

"Kiddo," my dad called me that as long as I could remember.  "Do you always have to order two desserts?"

I looked at the half-melted sundae on the table.  "That's not mine.  Blaine ordered it."

My dad raised his eyebrows at me.  "Oh, yeah.  Blaine, the amazing, ever-present imaginary friend."  He looked at the seat across from me, which was empty.  Blaine was sitting next to me.  "Hello, Blaine.  How're you doing today?"

"Hi, Burt," Blaine said, knowing Burt couldn't see or hear him but was playing along.  "I'm doing pretty good, thanks."  Blaine told me once that actually liked that my dad made an effort with him, most parents ignored kids' imaginary friends.

Carole cut in, attempting to "help" as she turned her head to whisper at him.  "Burt haven't you talked to him about--?"

"I'm ten with an imaginary friend, not deaf," I said, frowning at her.

Blaine snorted next to me.

"Kurt," my dad half-heartedly reprimanded me, shaking his head a little.  "Come on, I have a meeting today and need to prepare for it."  Inheriting Bell Books left little time for anything else these days for him.  My face must have shown my disappointment, though, as he sighed and put a hand on my shoulder.  "But we can swing by a block or two of SoHo, like usual, yeah?"

"Burt, what about what we were talking about?"  Carole asked.

"Kurt, you're perfect the way you are.  You're intelligent and witty.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?"  Blaine said as I slid out of my seat.

"I won't," I said.

"Won't what?"  Carole turned to me.  She leaned down a little to wipe at a non-existent smudge on my face in that way most mothers do and for a second I forgot that I was annoyed at her.  "You shouldn't scowl so much, there's so much to be excited about this week, right?"  She smiled at me.

I remembered my birthday party again and immediately brightened, nodding at her.

"C'mon, kiddo, let's get going," my dad headed toward the bustling scene of Grand Central.

Blaine stood up behind me.  He leaned down and brushed his lips against my hair.

"See you tomorrow," he said.  "I miss you already."

"Miss you already, too," I told him.

I turned around to see my dad and Carole just barely through the crowd outside the exit and ran to catch up, waving behind me to where Blaine was left standing in the restaurant.

The following morning, Blaine was waiting outside Kurt's high-end Village building, as he always did.  It was a good thing he was invisible: his faded maroon cords, thick wool sweater, and worn loafers wouldn't fit in around the neighborhood.

 He was thinking about something impressive that Kurt had said when he was only five years old.  Kurt's mom, Elizabeth had passed recently and Burt was making frequent trips between Ohio and New York to get things settled after Bell Books had been left in his hands.  Blaine had been concerned about how Kurt was coping.  But when he'd asked, Kurt had just shrugged it off and said, "Love means you can never be apart."  Blaine knew immediately that he would never forget that--and out of a five-year-old's mouth, no less.  But that was just how Kurt was.  He was incredible.

So how was Blaine going to spend his day while Kurt was in school?  He might stop by at one of his local haunts for breakfast then a stroll through Central Park; it was a lovely day out, after all.  He might even get together with a couple other imaginary friends who worked in the neighborhood.  What exactly were the duties of an imaginary friend?  Basically to just make it easier for the child to fit into the world.  Hours?  Whatever it took.  Benefits?  The pure love one can only experience between a kid and an imaginary friend.  For Blaine, it just didn't get better than that.  But where did he fit in the great cosmic plan?  Well, no one had ever told him.

Blaine looked at his watch, an ancient Timex on a worn leather band that had never once stopped ticking.  It was 8:29.  Kurt would be down any second.  He liked to be punctual; never kept anyone waiting.

Then Blaine saw him hopping toward him, but pretended not to, as always.

"Boo!" Kurt shouted, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist.

"Whoa!"  Blaine exclaimed dramatically.  "You're sneakier than a pickpocket in Oliver Twist."

Kurt grinned, his smile lighting up his entire face.  It was a smile that Blaine couldn't get enough of and worked hard to keep there as often as possible.  Kurt readjusted the little tie around his neck and then they headed off to Kurt's bus stop.

"I didn't exactly sneak up," Kurt said, looking up at Blaine as they strode side-by-side down the sidewalk of early morning New York.  "You were lost somewhere interesting in your thoughts."

Kurt had a cute way of trying to talk without moving his lips when he was with Blaine, so people passing by didn't think he was crazy.  Sometimes Blaine let people see him, sometimes he didn't.  Kurt could never be sure which--or why.  Blaine would just bop him on the nose and say, "Life's a mystery," whenever he asked.

As they rounded a corner, Kurt's stop came in sight.  Blaine was reminded of the book Madeline, with all the children in navy uniforms waiting neatly in two rows for their bus.  It was always strange to Blaine that so many kids should stand still for so long.

"Just three more days," Kurt stopped on the sidewalk. "I just might get my tea set."  Once again Blaine found Kurt looking up at him with adoring eyes before he looked away and bit his lip.  "But first we have to go see a play."

"Oh?  You love plays, though.  You don't sound too excited," Blaine said.

"Carole and Finn are coming," Kurt said.

"Ah," Blaine answered, understanding.

"You're invited, too, of course," Kurt's face lit up a little with hope, and then looked back when the bus pulled up to the curb behind him.

"Of course.  Can't wait to go.  Now, you go and I'll be back at three as usual to pick you up."

"Okay," he said, hitching his bag up on his shoulder.  "We can talk about what we're going to wear!"

Blaine laughed.  "You can help pick out some nice clothes for me.  So I don't embarrass you."

Kurt looked him straight in the eyes, fixing him with a serious stare.  And for a second Blaine had a vision of what Kurt might look like as an adult--the determined face, his contagious smile, those intelligent eyes that seemed to burn right through to his heart.

"You could never embarrass me, Blaine," Kurt said with all the sincerity his 10-year-old self could muster.  He moved in to hug him tight around the waist again before running off toward the waiting yellow bus.  Blaine didn't look away until he saw Kurt slip behind the doors.  He waited.  Kurt peeked out one of the side windows, as he always did, then waved and disappeared for good as the bus pulled away down the street.

Suddenly, Blaine felt like he needed to blink and look away.  He felt as if he had been punched in the gut.  His heart actually hurt.

How was he going to tell Kurt that he had to leave him soon?

That was another duty of an imaginary friend--and possibly the worst.

On Thursday after school, after a week of anticipation, Blaine and I got ready.  I smirked as I watched Blaine readjust his bow-tie for the dozenth time and I pet the petals from one flowers of the bouquet Blaine had given me after school.  The blue roses with white and gold daisies made me feel grown-up somehow.  It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

When Carole and Finn arrived, Finn looking immensely uncomfortable in his suit, we went to the theatre.  I had already seen The Lion King, but Carole had bought the tickets as a surprise and because Finn really wanted to see it.

I barely remember the play, Blaine and I were too busy having thumb wrestling wars and I listened as Blaine told me about Shakespeare's Hamlet, officially making me feel too grown-up for The Lion King.  Toward the end of the play, I grabbed Blaine's hand out of excitement and he squeezed back, looking at me and smiling.  Everything good was about to happen.  My dad was home for my birthday this year, I was getting a party, hopefully my tea set, and I had Blaine with me.  Everything seemed wonderful, everything seemed possible.

When we left the theatre, Finn was practically bouncing, babbling about how cool the show was even though, "Puppets are totally lame."  I couldn't help but roll my eyes but refused to let Finn ruin my birthday.

"Ready, kiddo?" Burt asked, reaching for my hand as we crossed the threshold of our apartment to only be met with a wall of noise.  I blinked, trying to make sense of the view in front of me.  I recognized a lot of my father's co-workers, from both the tire shop and the publishing company.  Many of them were people I had grown up with and considered friends.  I saw Holly, my dad's receptionist and my favorite because she let me have coffee when my dad wasn't looking, break away from conversation and stride toward me with a wide smile on her face.

I looked back at Blaine, just to make sure he was still nearby as always, and from the corner of my eye saw my dad, Carole, and Finn mingle with the crowd not too far away.  Blaine nodded at me, squeezing my shoulder for comfort, and I turned back to give Holly a tight hug.

After a few people had come by to wish me a happy birthday and not-so-discreetly slipped me some cash here or there--though Holly had given me a bedazzled comb case--I found myself sat on one of the window seats with Blaine, watching the party go on around me.

I spotted quite a few people I didn't know, which didn't surprise me as much as it should have: when your dad runs two companies, every party is a business meeting.  It didn't take long before Blaine and I were playing our game again.

Blaine was interrupted mid-story about an elderly man who was apparently an infamous candy pilferer by one of my dad's friends.  Blaine glared at him and my fit of giggles waned when the man began to wish me a happy birthday, commenting on how great of a businessman my dad is and that I should be grateful to have someone like him as my father.

I got that a lot, because of course it was the truth.  "I know," I told him.  Blaine, beside me, cleared his throat.  The man turned to leave and I faced Blaine to see him looking meaningfully at me.

"What?"

"Someone is trying to get your attention," Blaine nodded across the room and I followed his gaze to find a girl my age, hair done up in lavish curls and one of her hands clutched tightly to a man's as he was busy with conversation, wave enthusiastically at me and gesture for me to come over.

"Blaine, you know I don't like Rachel..."

"Be nice," Blaine chuckled, knowing exactly what my feelings were on the...intense girl.

"It's my birthday, I can do what I want," I pouted.

Blaine laughed out loud this time.  "That's funny.  Go," he actually shooed me and I batted his hands away as I reluctantly made my way across the room to talk to her.

For about five minutes I let her talk my ear off after the initial birthday wishes before I glanced back at Blaine only to find him whispering something to the piano player my dad must have hired.  No one ever played that piano unless they were paid to do so.  What was Blaine up to?

I politely excused myself from Rachel and began to head toward the piano when I saw the player stand up.  "May I have everyone's attention, please?"  The din in the room quickly died down.  "Someone... and I'm not sure who... has reminded me that it is a very special day for someone.  He's eleven years old today... Mr. Hummel's son, Kurt!"

Mr. Hummel's son.  More often than not, that's who I was.

I looked down at my feet, blushing, feeling happy and self-conscious at the same time.  Somewhere in the crowd I heard Rachel's squeal of delight as everyone's eyes eventually found me.  Behind the piano player, I saw Blaine beckon me forward and I stepped toward the raised platform where he stood. "Now, if everyone could please sing along," the pianist said before beginning the notes to the Happy Birthday song, Rachel's voice soaring above the others.

My eyes searched the crowd to find my dad and Carole standing with each other and smiling at me, hand in hand.  I reached behind me to find Blaine's own hand, warm and reassuring.

The song finished to a hearty applause before the hum of conversation resumed.

Then I heard a voice call my name.  "Kurt!  My, how you've grown!"  I whirled around to see my grandparents, Jack and Margaret Bell, standing in the doorway.

"Nana!  Grampa Jack!"  I called, racing through the crowd with Blaine in tow into my grandmother's waiting arms.

I rarely ever saw my mother's parents.  Oftentimes, they were out of the country--vacationing or Grampa Jack was dealing with investments here or there.  They were stern, but cared for me, and they were my biggest remaining connection to my mother.

My nana hugged back and her perfume smelled so much like my mother's I was taken aback for a moment.

"You didn't think we'd miss your eleventh birthday, did you?" Grampa Jack said from where he was standing next to my dad now.  They shook hands briefly and Jack simply nodded at Carole who was politely standing behind my dad.

Nana straightened up and took her place next to Jack as he stared down at me.  I nervously looked between all the adults looking at me, not sure what to expect.  Then Grampa Jack stepped aside to reveal a box sitting behind him, wrapped in festive paper, and I could not hold back my shriek of delight.

I darted between them and instantly began tearing at the paper.  The box was just the right size for my tea set.  My dad must have told them; somehow grandparents just always knew, right?  I lifted up the lid of the box and pushed aside the paper excitedly and my fingers hit something rough--not at all like china.

I hesitantly looked back up at all the eyes still trained on me before returning to the gift in front of me.  I reached in and pulled out a glove.  A baseball glove, with my name stitched into the side already.  Left inside the box was a ball, clean and white and--not a china tea set.

"Thanks, Grampa.  Nana," I said, putting the biggest smile on my face that I could muster.  "I, uh, can't wait to test it out!"  I tried to push all the thoughts of having tea with Blaine, or the Queen, or even Rachel out of my head.

"Sweet!" I heard Finn say from somewhere to my right.  He got on the floor next to me and took the glove right out of my hands, pushing me aside a little to get a better look.  I didn't have the heart to fight back.

"Okay," Grampa Jack said, dusting off his hands as if he had just finished working on something.  "Now we're off to Amsterdam."

I couldn't help it; I felt my heart jump into my throat.  "We are?"

Jack looked confused and then pitying.  Nana pursed her lips.  "No, Kurt-honey.  He meant him and I.  Amsterdam is really no place for a child.  Besides, it's your birthday party."

"I understand," I said, looking at my shoes and trying hard not to cry in front of all these people.  "It's just that I've always wanted to go to Amsterdam.  Blaine says it's beautiful."

"We'll go sometime, yeah, kiddo?"  My dad stepped in.

It didn't matter if my dad meant it or not.  I was too sad as I watched my grandparents leave just as quickly as they had come.

I left Finn with the baseball glove and wove my way toward the kitchen to get myself a drink.  Blaine hadn't followed me but it was okay because I knew he'd find me soon enough.  I nursed my fruit punch and after a few minutes, sure enough, Blaine sauntered in with a glass of champagne in his hand, though it didn't look like he had drunk any.  We decided to hide out for a while and picked at the snacks.  Blaine complained that there wasn't any cake and I snickered at the truly heartbroken look on his face when an excited shriek sounded from the living room.

We peeked our heads around the corner to find Carole and a bunch of other women surrounding her, all bouncing excitedly.  I turned to look at Blaine confusedly before making my way through the crowd.

When I reached the commotion, I caught snippets of conversation.

"--about time!"

"Congratulations!"

"--you're engaged, that's--"

I wrinkled my nose, wait, who was engaged?  And then I heard my dad.

"Well it was supposed to be a secret.  We were going to officially announce it next week but I guess the cat's out of the bag!"  My heart stopped as I caught my dad playfully ribbing a co-worker than wrapping his arms around a positively beaming Carole.  My eyes slid to just behind them where I saw Finn pulling on Rachel's hair before running away and my eyes began to well up with tears.

I completely abandoned the party.  It was getting late and everyone who mattered had already come to say hello anyway.  I hastily made my way through the maze of party-goers and finally found my bedroom.  I slammed the door behind me and flung myself onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow.  With no one around to see me, I started to cry like the world's biggest baby.

Then I heard the door open.

It was Blaine.  Wonderful Blaine, come to save me.

Kurt was sobbing on his bed all by himself when he came in.  He didn't look like a birthday-boy.  But then, why would he after all of that?  Blaine shook his head.  Poor kid.

Blaine sighed, then sat down on the bed beside Kurt and began to rub at his back in soft, comforting circles.  Kurt didn't deserve to be hurt like this.  No child did.

"It's okay, Kurt.  Let it all out," Blaine whispered, leaning down to kiss Kurt's hair.  It smelled of strawberries, like it always did-it was a scent that had become one of Blaine's favorites.

"Alright, but you asked for it." Kurt said as he sat up.  Sniffing, his freckled face streaked with tears, Kurt pulled off his shoes and dropped them on the floor.  Blaine frowned at the uncharacteristic mannerism.

"I don't think it's fair," Kurt's voice cracked as he shuddered with leftover tears.  "I don't have any friends and I know my dad is busy but he was actually here this year but all he cared about was Carole.  And they're getting married!  And Finn is terrible.  My grandparents were here but then they were gone to Amsterdam and I didn't even get to go with--again.  And I didn't get my tea set either," Kurt seemed to run out of wind then.  "I don't even like baseball," he said in a small voice.

Kurt clutched his blanket, pulling it over his lap to tug at loose threads at he continued to snuffle a little and wipe at his eyes occasionally.  "You're a good listener.  Thank you.  I feel better."

Blaine just looked around Kurt's room.  It was pure Kurt: books everywhere, some written for much older kids, some written entirely in French.  There were drawings pinned to nearly every empty space on the wall around play posters and black-and-whites of Paris.  Everything had a place, and yet Kurt didn't seem to fit in anywhere in this life.

Now Blaine had to talk to him there in possibly the only place where he felt safe.  The place couldn't have been better, but the timing--after everything that had just happened--could not have been worse.

"You are an incredible, amazing boy," Blaine said.  "Do you know that?  You better."

Kurt looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and a watery smile.  "Sort of, but only because you tell me pretty much every day."

"You're wonderful, beautiful, inside and out," Blaine went on.  "You're incredibly smart.  Clever.  Funny.  Talented.  And compassionate.  You have so much to give."

Suddenly Kurt looked very alert.  He had just said he was smart--and Kurt was about to prove that to him, wasn't he?

"Blaine, what are you trying to say?  What's going on?  Something's wrong."

Blaine felt his legs weaken and his eyesight blur.  Why now?  Why Kurt?  Why him?

"You're eleven now," he forced himself to continue on.  "You're practically all grown-up.  And so... and so--I'm leaving you tonight, Kurt.  I have to go."

"I know you do.  But you'll be back tomorrow.  Like always."

Blaine swallowed.  This was impossible.  His heart was breaking.

"No, Kurt.  The--the thing is, I'll never be back again.  I don't have a choice in this.  It's a rule."  Just saying those words made him feel worse than he ever had in his existence.  Kurt was special.  He was different.  Blaine didn't know why, he just knew he was.  For the first time, the rule about when to leave a child struck Blaine as unfair and cruel.  He would have rather died than cause Kurt this much pain.  But it was true that he had no choice.  He never had.

Kurt didn't move a muscle on his face and once again Blaine was reminded of what he might look like as an adult.  Kurt looked Blaine squarely in the eyes and said absolutely nothing.  There was an awful stillness about him that Blaine had never seen.

"Kurt, did you hear me?" he finally had to ask.

There was a pause that seemed to last forever.

"I'm not ready for you to go," Kurt said, and he burst into tears again.  "I'm really not ready."

When Kurt reached across to bury his face in Blaine's shoulder, he could feel that Kurt was shaking.  And that just killed him.

Damn it, he thought.  Then an idea came to him.  It was something he had never done before, not with any other child, but Kurt wasn't just any child.  He was Kurt.  Blaine gently pried Kurt off of his arm and lifted his chin until Kurt was looking at him, tears still falling down his cheeks.

"Kurt, I'll tell you a secret.  It's a secret I've never told anyone before.  And you can't tell anyone either."  Blaine leaned in conspiratorially, hoping to pique Kurt's interest.  "It's the secret of the imaginary friends."

Kurt snorted.  "I don't want to hear your secrets."  But Blaine kept going.

"Children have imaginary friends to help guide them in their lives.  We help them feel less alone; help them find their place in the world, in their families.  But then we have to leave," Blaine sighed.  "We have to.  It's always been that way, and it will always be that way, Kurt.  That's just... how it works."

"But I told you," Kurt pleaded.  "I'm not ready."

Blaine let him in on another secret.  "But once I leave, you won't even remember me, Kurt.  No one ever does.  If you ever think of me, I'll just seem like a dream."  It was the one thing that made any of this acceptable or even bearable at all.

Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm again and clung tightly.  "Please don't leave me, Blaine.  I'm begging you.  You can't.  Not now--not ever!  You don't--you don't know how important you are to me."  Blaine felt his chest clench in pain.

"You'll see, Kurt," he promised him.  "You'll forget all about me, and it won't hurt tomorrow.  Besides, you said it yourself, remember?  Love means you can never be apart.  So we'll never be apart, Kurt, because I love you so much.  I'll always, always love you."

And with those words, Blaine began to fade out of the room, in imaginary friend-style.  As he did, he heard Kurt's last words.

"Blaine, please don't go!  Please don't!  If you go, I won't have anyone.  I'll never forget you, Blaine, no matter what you say.  No matter what.  I'll never forget you!"

Which brings the story to today.