Blaine's apartment wasn't an apartment. The moment he stepped through the door of the complex, he had known something was up. The entire building was decked in expensive, sophisticated decor, complete with a gym, a heated pool and a sauna.

Blaine hardly had time to take in the exquisite hotel before he realised he was in an elevator and rocketing up to the top floor. When the doors opened with a soft ding! Blaine stumbled down the hallway, still quite dazed. 

He finally reached the end of the hall to a large oak door marked with curved golden numbers, 3042. Blaine gripped the door knob with shaking hands and gingerly opened it. 

Blaine almost fell flat on his back by the sight that greet him. His penthouse was decorated to the nines! Leather couches surrounded a flat screen TV that had to be at lest two metres long. The kitchen was huge and equipped with a black, granite counter top and contraptions Blaine wouldn't have a clue on how to operate. An enormous tank filled with exotic, tropical fish swam beneath his feet and he laughed in delight as he stepped over the large square glass and the fish began crowding around the areas his feet were covering. Stairs led up to what Blaine assumed was his bedroom. He sat on the bottom step and breathed out a long sigh of contentment, that ended in a laugh. 

Blaine wondered back into the futuristic kitchen to see what goodies they'd left him in his refrigerator. It was only when he glanced up that he noticed a small envelope resting on the counter top. Picking it up, Blaine teared the paper open and a note fell out. Blaine laughed when he read it.

Like the place I hooked you up with? If everything went Quinn's way you'd be in some shitty hook-up motel in Brooklyn. Yeah, you're welcome. Do me proud curly fry;) -Santana.

Blaine smiled softly at the note before folding it up and placing it in his back pocket. Digging further into the envelope, Blaine pulled out a small ear piece with a sticky note from Artie attached to it, telling him to wear this at all times, except in the shower. He also found his class schedule, a mobile phone and his new ID card. Blaine Stanley. Not bad. Not nearly as bad as some of the false identities and names he'd had to endure before.

Blaine took a shower in one of the nicest bathrooms he'd ever seen and got changed into a pair of the comfiest pyjama's he'd ever worn. Snuggling down into a bed that looked like it belonged to the Pope, Blaine gently stroked the corner of Kurt's picture. At 1am, Blaine drifted into a deep sleep, his dreams filled with seas of endless blue.

----------

Blaine had been to New York a couple of times before. Once with his brother and twice for business with Santana. But that didn't stop Blaine from being stunned by the sheer beauty of the hustle and bustle of the greatest city on Earth. 

Making his way through the crowded streets, Blaine continued to his destination. When he reached a large set of golden gates, he had to laugh. This had to be the infamous NYADA. It certainly was dramatic, Blaine thought.

A pillar, holding the gate up crackled to life as a woman's voice boomed into Blaine's ears.

"Hello?" she inquired, a British accent heavy in her voice, "Who are you?"

Blaine cleared his throat and opened his mouth to answer, when his ear piece rattled in his ear and Artie's voice became clear. 

"Ms McDale," he stated.

Blaine furrowed his brow in confusion, "Huh?"

"The Headmaster," Artie clarified, "the woman you're currently talking to: that's her name."

"Oh, thanks," Blaine replied and cleared his throat. "Hi, Ms McDale, I'm Blaine Stanley," he said, "I'm a new student."

"Oh!" the woman exclaimed, "Yes, I've been expecting you! Please, come in!"

The speaker fizzled to silence and the large gates slowly swung open to reveal a long pathway, surrounded by short grass and perfectly sculpted bushes, leading to a large, pristine building, that resembled some kind of fairytale castle. Blaine set off down the pavement, still taking in the tall, white building looming over him.

He climbed a few steps before reaching a huge set of double doors. He'd barely raised his fist to knock before the doors swung open, revealing a woman of fifty, dressed in a sky-blue pants suit smiling widely at him.

"Mr Stanley!" she gushed, ushering him inside, "Welcome to the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts. As you already know, I'm Ms McDale, Headmaster. It's a pleasure to have you here."

The woman set off down down vast halls, red carpet clothing the floor and portraits of famous singers hanging on the walls. Blaine hurried to keep up with the woman as she walked purposefully, her heels clacking loudly against the floor. 

"Here, at this school, we aspire to enhance the ability of the best young talent in the country and turn them into stars! Our policies are very strict and our classes broaden to a vast range of musical style. As you have probably been warned, to keep up at this school, one must be ambitious, so take your work seriously and you will succeed!"

She said this clearly, without missing a beat in a way that made Blaine think she'd said it many times before. They finally came to a stop outside another set of giant doors, a gold plaque reading Headmaster resting in the centre. A plump woman in thick rimmed glasses, brought a large stack of thick books down on her desk with a loud thud! She stamped a piece of paper and pushed the books towards Blaine.

"These are your text books," McDale explained brightly, opening a door and stepping into her office, "classes start at 8 o'clock, sharp, and end at four. If you have any concerns, my door is always open. We wish you luck and hope you enjoy the NYADA experience!"

With that, the doors to the office were slammed in Blaine's face, the sound echoing in the silent room. He stood, stunned and frozen to the spot for a moment before remembering he was supposed to be looking for a certain someone and stuffed the heavy books into his bag. 

Blaine set off down the hallway. After a minute or so of walking, the soft sound of singing filled Blaine's ears. Following the growing sound, Blaine stumbled across a large door with a small, glass window cut into the wood to give Blaine a brief glimpse of colour before he pushed the door open. The soft hum exploded into a full blown orchestra as the sound of trumpets, drums and loud singing bombarded Blaine's ears.

He stared in wonder at the scene before him: students of all different shapes and sizes were bouncing enthusiastically around a beautiful, lush courtyard. A band of trumpets, sax's and every other instrument you could name,was playing out the opening tune to a familiar song. Every student was gathered around a fountain placed in the centre of all the hubbub.

Craning his neck, Blaine strained to see what all the commotion was about, only to be met by the sight of two figures leaping off the rim of the fountain and the sound of the band playing. A short brunette girl, dressed in what looked to be a sailor dress gave a flashy smile to the gathered crowd and began singing.

"Boys call you sexy,

and you don't care what they say.

See every time, you turn around,

they're screaming you name."

Blaine didn't have enough time to appreciate the broadway twist on the spunky pop song, before his eye caught the second figure. A flash of sparkling silver caught his attention and his eyes fixed on the shining suits wearer. Blaine's mind registered it was Kurt before his eyes did as the brown haired boy opened his mouth and sang.

"Now, I've got a confession."

The girl placed her hands on her hips and laughed. 

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Kurt grinned at the girl and jumped back onto the bowl of the fountain and sang loudly.

"When I was young,

I wanted attention!"

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Kurt leapt to the ground with the grace of a ballerina and threw his hands in the air dramatically, his eyes shining.

"And I promised myself,

 that I'd do anything!"

The girl grinned at him and actually laughed.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Blaine's eyes widened as Kurt scanned the crowd with a smirk and his bright eyes landed on him. He winked and sang.

"Anything at all,

for them to notice me!"

The blood in Blaine's body seemed to warm up at the scene playing out before him. This man, Kurt, looked completely at ease and filled with joy. It made him forget about everything for just a moment. He forgot about the Task Force, The Sins and the fact that the boy in front of him was being targeted by them. He just watched him sing.

The girl marched right in front of Kurt and waved a dainty finger in his face.

"Now I ain't complainin,'

we all wanna be famous!

So go ahead and

say what you wanna say!"

Kurt dropped to his knees in front of her and clutched his hands together, looking up in mock despair.

"You don't know what

it's like to be nameless!

Want the to know what 

your name is!"

Kurt rose to his feet and the two sang together with smiles on their faces.

"Cause see, when I was younger

I would sing…"

The entire crowd exploded into a loud chorus of trained voices. Kurt and the small girl jumping around between them, whipping their hair and gesturing wildly with their hands.

"When I grow up:

I wanna be famous!

I wanna be a star!

I wanna be in movies!"

Kurt gripped the girls hand and twirled her around, singing along to the beat still blaring from the orchestra of instruments.

"When I grow up:

I wanna see the world

drive nice cars!

I wanna have groupies!"

Blaine couldn't help but grin and tap his foot as he watched, fascinated.

"When I grow up:

be on TV! 

People know me!

Be on magazines!"

Kurt and the girl were now being pulled at and danced against as they sang.

"When I grow up:

fresh and clean!

Number one chick,

when I step out on the scene!"

The crowd had now formed a sort of conga line and were marching around the fountain, hands waving and hips swaying. Kurt and the brunette were leading them as they sung.

"But be careful what you wish for,

cause you just might get it!

You just might get it!

You just might get it!"

Kurt and his leading lady detached themselves from the crowd and climbed onto the edge of the fountains bowl. They linked hands and sang out their finale.

"But be careful what you wish for,

cause you just might get it!

You just might get it!

You just might get it!"

The music ceased and the students all erupted into an uproar of applause. Kurt and the short brunette both bowed. Kurt's pale skin was flushed, his nose and cheeks tinted with pink. His immaculately styled hair was now tousled from the exercise and his eyes were shining so bright, ships could spot them while out at sea.

Blaine clapped his hands rapidly, a smile of his own plastered to his face. It wasn't just Kurt's amazing voice or showmanship that had left him astounded, it was the look of sheer joy that graced his features when he sang. There was something about that gleam in his eye that took Blaine's breath away.

He was so distracted by the cheering and commotion, Blaine almost missed the blonde boy, leaning against a door frame on the other end of the courtyard, watching Kurt intently. He wasn't dressed nearly as colourful as any of the other students, wearing a simple red hoodie and jeans. His gaze caught Blaine's and for a moment they stared at each other before the boy broke away and disappeared through the door way.

Blaine stared at the spot he had been standing in for a moment, confused, before a loud bell chimed and the students immediately scattered, briskly walking about in different directions. Blaine pushed through the sea of chatting college kids, craning his neck and trying to catch sight of Kurt's silver clothing but to no avail as he was bumped and pushed by the rush of bodies.

Sighing in frustration, Blaine attempted to see where the sea of people was taking him. He stumbled through a large doorway a moment later, his feet hitting carpet. Blaine stared at his surroundings, feeling very lost.

"Your first class is Theatre History," Artie chimed in his ear, "Down the hall first door on the left."

Blaine began walking in the right direction and replied, "Thanks."

"It's all good in the hood, yo."

Blaine chuckled, shaking his head as he found the door and walked into the room. He entered a huge lecture hall, already swarming with people, taking their seats. He frowned when he saw the blonde boy from the courtyard sitting in the corner of the room but then spotted Kurt, sitting in the front row with the girl he'd been singing with.

"The girl with the nice pipes is Rachel Berry," Artie supplied.

"Oh," Blaine said as he sat down a few rows behind Kurt, "so, he goes to college with his roommate."

"Affirmative," Artie confirmed.

The amiable chatter instantly ceased as the door opened and a tall, thirty-something year old man, clothed nicely in dress pants, a dark vest and beret, entered. He sized the class up with challenging eyes and a defiant stance.

"Hello, class," he greeted, formally.

"Good morning, Professor Cross!" they all chimed in unison, making Blaine jump in his seat, surprised.

The man, Professor Cross, flicked the lights off and pointed a remote to the ceiling, switching on a projector as the words Theatre Timeline appeared on the massive whiteboard situated at the front of the room.

"Now," Cross began in a stern voice, "last lesson, we began talking about the timeline of the theatre."

Everyone had notebooks open in front of them, pens poised and ready to go. The alertness in their eyes would make one think they were about to learn the meaning of life, not study where acting originated. Blaine found the whole thing off-putting.

"Mister," the teacher squinted down at a clip board, "Stanley," Blaine looked up at the mention of his fake name to find Cross staring at him, "why don't you introduce yourself to the class?"

Blaine simply shrugged and stood up, all eyes now on him.

"Well," Blaine began, rubbing his hands, "my name's Blaine. I'm from…" Blaine trailed off, as he had no idea what the documents Quinn had sent to this school said.

"You came from a performing arts school in Canada," Artie told him quickly.

"Canada," Blaine finally said, relief flowing through him "I just transferred here from a performing arts school in the Toronto."

Blaine sold it with a charming smile. All the students were staring at him like they were birds of prey sizing up their next meal before they killed it. It made him feel uneasy but he didn't let it show. He'd gone to Hell and back throughout high school, he could handle a few competitive college kids.

Blaine saw Kurt, turned around in his seat, watching him, accept he wasn't leering at him with the intensity to melt glass. He was simply listening to his story with an impassive look. Blaine caught his eye and gave him a small smile. Kurt blinked and smiled back and, for some reason, the action had Blaine's breath tying up in his throat.

"Very good," Cross drawled. He adjusted his glasses and asked, gesturing to the board, "and what do you know about the history of the theatre?"

Blaine's eyes widened slightly and he hissed through gritted teeth, "Artie, help me out here!"

"On it," Artie said, the sound of typing filling his ears, "right, theatre first began in 534 B.C. when-"

"-Thespis won the first public contest for tragic poets in Greece," Blaine stated, repeating the words Artie fed to him. "Comedy was then preferred over tragic poetry when the Hellenistic and Colonial periods occurred in 350-250 B.C."

Blaine had no idea what was coming out of his mouth but Cross looked impressed so he kept going, "Theatre was very unpopular during the Dark Ages in the western and eastern Roman Empires as Christians were opposed to entertainment." 

Blaine's sight caught Kurt staring at him with something akin to wonder. The look made a gleeful warmth spread through his stomach, so when he continued, he did it with a smile. "The Middle Ages brought an era filled with artistry. Many plays were written in Italy and Western Europe and Ballet was performed for the first time in 1489."

"In 1570, Count Giovanni Bardi debuted the Elizabethan masque, an aristocratic form of entertainment that features music, dance and elaborate costuming. In 1598-1608, William Shakespeare wrote Much Ado About Nothing, As You Like It, All's Well That Ends Well, Julius Caesar, Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth and Anthony and Cleopatra."

Blaine sucked in a deep breath and smirked down at his teacher, "do I need to go on?"

Cross sputtered for a moment before laughing and gesturing for him to sit, "Very, uh, very good, Mr Stanley. I'm sure you'll fit right in here."

Cross turned back to the board and began rattling on about the Elizabethan era and Blaine sat down, satisfied by the looks of shock on his classmates faces. Blaine saw Kurt staring at him with wide eyes. The boy blushed when he was caught, and quickly turned back around to face the teacher. 

Blaine smiled to himself when that same warm feeling spread through to his finger tips and enveloped him like a snug blanket.

----------

"Ready…now!" Artie yelled.

Blaine nodded and turned the corner, effectively bumping into a solid, warm body.

"Oh!" Kurt gasped, picking up the messenger bag he dropped, "I'm sorry! I wasn't…" Kurt trailed off when he looked up and saw Blaine.

"Hey," he began, standing up, "you're the human encyclopaedia, from History!"

Blaine laughed at that, giving Kurt his best smile. It was one thing to see the boy from a distance and in photo's, but to have him standing right in front of him, his blue eyes fixated on his, was something else entirely.

"Is that what I've been dubbed now?" Blaine questioned playfully.

Kurt shook his head smiling, "I've just never seen someone list the transformation of theatre from the ancient to the Elizabethan ages before."

Blaine grinned and stuck out his hand, "My name's Blaine."

Kurt took his outstretched hand and shook it.

"Kurt."

Blaine reluctantly let go of Kurt's soft hand and gripped the strap of his bag. He took out his class schedule and asked Kurt, "Hey, since it's my first day and all, could you tell me where I can find, uh, Vocal Practice."

Kurt's eyes lit up to a bright cerulean hue. "That's my next class!"

Blaine put on a mask of happy surprise and smiled. Quinn had made it so that he was in all of Kurt's classes. His smile faltered slightly and his heart beat sped when Kurt tugged on his arm.

"Come on, I'll take you there," Kurt's lips turned up into a smirk as he said in a low voice, "Mr Stanley."

Blaine choked out a weak laugh as he followed Kurt, a shiver running down his spine at how deep and gravelly Kurt's voice had just sounded. 

"Thanks," he said, clearing his throat. Kurt looked at him with a raised eyebrow and Blaine clarified, "uh, the people here don't seem very welcoming."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Yeah, you get used to that. Sometimes I think this place is more like military school than a performing arts college but I guess that's the competition of theatre. I mean, what did you expect?"

Blaine didn't know how to respond to that because he'd had no idea what to expect. He didn't know much about this school but Artie had told him it was really competitive, so that explained something.

"It's weird," Kurt said, looking at him through squinted eyes, "I had to bust my hump to get into this school and suddenly you show up half way through the year? How did you manage that."

"I've got connections," Blaine answered honestly.

Kurt laughed and shook his head, "well, hook me with some of that."

Blaine grinned at him. He was nice. The smile wiped off Blaine's face as he realised what he had to do next. Feeling only slightly guilty, Blaine dug out the tiny tracker and lightly patted Kurt on the back. The small black dot crawled behind Kurt's ear and rested there, out of sight.

Kurt didn't seem to notice as he led Blaine down the bustling halls.

They entered a large room, crowded with people sitting on rows of bleachers. The band from the courtyard were sitting to the side of the room, setting up stands for their sheet music and tuning their instruments. Kurt pulled him down into a seat at the front row and sat next to him.

Blaine felt like he was back in high school. Sitting with a cute guy next to him, waiting for his teacher, while his classmates chatted about anything and everything. It was odd, but in a good way.

"Kurt!"

Blaine snapped out of his thoughts, his head whipping around to see Kurt's friend, Rachel, storming through the door.

"What happened?" she demanded, "you said you were just going to get your books!"

Kurt rolled his eyes in a familiar gesture and answered calmly, "calm down, Rachel. I bumped Blaine here and showed him to class, okay?"

Rachel looked to Kurt's side, seeming to only now notice Blaine. She put on a dazzling smile and stuck out her petite hand.

"I'm Rachel Berry," she introduced and Blaine lightly shook her hand, suppressing a smile at her dramatic antics. "I saw you in Theatre History and I must say, your knowledge of the stage is impressive."

Blaine raised an eyebrow but smiled, unsure of how to take this girl.

"Um, thank you."

"You're quite welcome," Rachel replied, seating herself on Kurt's other side.

Blaine watched as Kurt and Rachel talked good naturally, laughing and gesturing when they got excited. It was hard to remember that he was actually supposed to be protecting Kurt. He seemed like your average college student. Blaine couldn't imagine what The Sins could want with him.

Blaine wasn't even entirely sure he believed The Sins were in New York. They barely had any information on the group as it was. But Moriyaki had told them about tapes. Video's of Kurt going to school and attending his life. There had to be someone who was here, after him. The thought made Blaine want to wrap Kurt up in a blanket and not let him out of his sight. But he supposed that was what he was here for. To keep an eye on Kurt and made sure nothing happened to him.

It took a minute for Blaine to realise there was someone standing in front of him. He looked up at a tall, lean boy with wavy brown hair, parted at his fore head and swept out of his face. A black scarf was draped around his neck and his arms were crossed over his chest. He was fixing Blaine with that same look many of the other NYADA goers had been giving him.

Blaine stared back at the boy and asked, "Can I help you?"

He gazed down at Blaine and stated, "I heard about your little speech in History."

"Oh, wow, that's news, is it?" Blaine mused, "don't you people have anything better to talk about?"

The new comer gave a curt laugh before glaring down at him, "I wouldn't joke around if I were you. Nobody likes a show off."

"Oh, leave him alone," Rachel groaned, giving the boy a vicious look.

"Yeah," Kurt added, "don't you have a little girl to steal a basket of treats from? How about some little pigs houses to blow down?"

The boy gave them both a strained smile.

"Your lashing out at me because you're jealous of my talent. It's adorable."

Kurt and Rachel both rolled their eyes, looking severely annoyed.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said coldly, "who are you?"

The boy looked affronted, like it was an insult that Blaine didn't know who he was. He lifted his chin high and answered indigently.

"I'm Jesse St James."