Kurt stared at his glass. He was on top. He was exactly where he wanted to be, and he had it all, money, fame, friends, a beautiful apartment in Manhattan, and of course, the parts he wanted on Broadway shows. He had taken revenge on all those years in high school, where bullies had tried to break him and nearly succeeded. And he had shown NYADA that he was worth it, that he could make it. He had nothing to prove to anyone, not even himself anymore. He seemed happy, but missed one essential piece to have a perfect life... love. Oh, he tried to find someone, most of his relationships lasted few weeks, other months, but he grew tired of his lovers for a reason or another.

Kurt continued to stare, making the ice cubes of his drink dance. Tonight was his night. His best friend Rachel had organized him a party in a local bar where they were always hanging out after the shows. Tonight has been his last on the show Wicked and she decided it was a reason to celebrate.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Came a female voice from beside him.

He looked up, and smiled at Rachel. “I was just thinking about stuff...” He said.

“Stuff huh? It must be important, since you don’t seem to be enjoying the party,” replied Rachel while grapping some peanuts.

“Who says this party is enjoyable...” teased Kurt with a white grin which earned him a peanut attack. “Ouch... hey, careful! I could go blind.”

“Only if you’re not dancing... now come!” With that, she dragged him to the dance floor.

***

Kurt finally left the bar. After too many shoots, too many cocktails and too much of Rachel singing karaoke, he enjoyed being a free man. Well, a really drunk free man. Time to head home and get some rest. It was a good idea in theory, but getting to it was another story. He stumbled on the sidewalk, looking for a cab, but like often when you need something you can’t find it or have it. Luckily for Kurt, he finally found one and climbed into the back, and told the driver his address before hiding his face in his hand, not realizing that the cab was already taken.

“If you’re planning on using that cab, I must apologize, but it’s mine,” came a voice from beside him.

Blaine should have ended his shift hours ago, but there was a party, and his boss promised him extra cash if he stayed, and god Blaine needed that money more than anything these days. So he kept smiling at the customers, refilled their glasses and endured the rudeness of drunken people . He had two jobs, and this one was definitely the one he didn’t like. He loved serving people, make their life maybe less miserable for a second, but he hated what he was doing. He had dreams, which could have come true if fate hadn’t struck. What could he do but move on and enjoy what he had?
Blaine enjoyed the horrible karaoke while working, and even stopped to listen to few people. Meeting one of the performers in a cab at five in the morning wasn’t something he planned to do, even if it was the man with the most fascinating voice he heard in years. Blaine was good hearted, but he wasn’t paid for this and he needed to get home to catch some sleep before starting his day-job.

Kurt looked up and froze. Holy shit, he thought. It must have been a mind trick, because this man seated next to him had such an intense gaze that Kurt thought he might read his soul. Even in the darkness, he could distinguish the warm honey color, the long lashes, and for a second he thought that Blaine’s eyes were far too big to be real. Under other circumstances, Kurt would have apologized and got out of the car, but being drunk helped a lot to gain confidence, even for being a perfect bitch.

“Is that so? I don’t see your name written on it.” Answered Kurt with a smirk.

Blaine frowned, not expecting that kind of answer. He sighed. Yeah, this was New York, not some Canadian city where people were friendly. Well he didn’t know about Canadian people, there were jerks everywhere on the planet. “Look, I saw it first... you can grab the next one, I have to - Why are you laughing?”

Kurt laughed aloud as soon as Blaine opened his mouth to shoot his argument. If you were to ask him, his answer would be that he didn’t know why he was laughing. The alcohol was to blame... for the most part. It was the childlike tone of Blaine’s voice that made Kurt laugh. He had pictured a kindergarten situation for a second, which lead to laughing. He calmed down and then let out a snarky comment. “Oh my god, how old are you... ten? You saw it first, right, doesn’t mean I can’t take it...do you know who I am?”

“No and I don’t care... get out.”

“Wait...you don’t know who I am? Really?”

“Obviously you’re an arrogant, drunken, well dressed man who thinks the world knows him ...but I really need to get home, and the clock’s ticking...” Replied Blaine, annoyed. Of course he knew who Kurt was; he knew it when he saw him at the party, when Kurt took his champagne from him and when he sat down in this cab. Blaine never judged people by their cover, but from the short exchange with the man, what the press was telling must have been true, because Kurt acted like a spoiled brat with a huge ego, and Blaine was far too tired to handle that right now. And he didn’t want to get kicked out by the driver, who was getting impatient.

Taken aback by his answer, Kurt couldn’t find a way to reply. He could only stare. Blaine had only stated something that was probably true, but Kurt was offended. Whether it was the alcohol that made his ego so big or his internal fear of being forgotten, it hurt absurdly. Kurt casted his gaze down, looking at his hands. Another side effect of being drunk was that he was oversensitive, like now.

Silence filled the closed room and Blaine didn’t know what to do. One minute Kurt was being all bitchy, the second after he looked hurt and Blaine didn’t like seeing people hurt, even if they deserved it. He bit his bottom lip, and ran a hand through his hair before sighing again.

“Look... I get that you want to go home and judging by your smell, it’s a wonder that you can talk and walk... but....” Blaine chuckled, something in his mind told him that what he was about to say was a bad idea. “We could share the cab... I mean... from what I’ve heard we’re heading in the same direction, so...”

Kurt looked up again, nodded and finally allowed the car to move. The drive remained silent. Kurt didn’t know what to say, and his pounding head mixed with the feeling of being in an everlasting rollercoaster was costing a lot of his strength to keep it all inside. He dropped his head against the cool windows and closed his eyes, drifting slowly to sleep. Blaine on his side busied himself with his phone, until the cab driver pulled at Kurt’s address.

“Hey, you’re home,” informed Blaine, shaking Kurt awake when he didn’t sense any move.

Kurt moaned and switch in automatic mode. He opened the door, got out and stumbled to the entrance of the building, ignoring Blaine’s calls to pay. Blaine gave it up after Kurt disappeared into the fancy hall, and told the drier to go on, knowing that he would have to pay a lot more than initially. You’re an idiot, he thought. That’s what you get for helping people… could have bought a nice gift for Andrea with the money.