It takes the ten-or-so minute walk to the subway station for Kurt to return to reality and realize that, yeah, his life right now is the definition of complicated. Even if he was off the market, chances of him having something more than friendship with Blaine would be slim. Too preoccupied with his own woes, Kurt nearly misses it when Rachel mentions Blaine’s name as they sit down on the Manhattan bound L train.

“What was that?”

“Hm? Oh, I was saying that I found it fascinating how the artist had chosen to enhance the imperfections in the photograph of the ballerina –“

“No, Rachel. Not that. You were talking about Blaine.” Normally Kurt would try to refrain from rude interruptions, but something about today has made his normal self take a leave of absence. Rachel doesn’t look offended though. Rather, she looks a little puzzled and somewhat amused.

“Yes, Kurt. Like I said, Blaine Anderson, the artist, has made some interesting choices.”

“Wait, what? Blaine, that cute guy I just talked to, is the artist?” In the shock of hearing he basically just criticized the art to the artist himself, an artist Kurt finds downright gorgeous, it completely slips his mind the kind of ammunition he just handed Rachel. Sure enough, it takes her no time to catch on to the most pertinent adjective in his previous statement.

“Cute, huh?” she says in a mocking tone, a mischievous smile lurking on her lips. “You know he’s gay too, right?”

“He is? How do you know?” The questions slip out before he can stop it, and although there really isn’t any use in feigning disinterest at this point, he makes an attempt. “I mean, why would that matter?”

Rachel, as predicted, sees right through his charade and scoffs. “Nice try there, Kurt. Besides, even if you hadn’t just made it obvious, your doe eyes and borderline drooling back at the loft would have made it clear.” Damn that girl for always paying attention when it seems he’s not, Kurt thinks. “And I know he’s gay because I heard about the exhibit from his ex. You remember Zach, right?”

Kurt nods. Zach is one of the chorus members who work with Rachel in the Broadway production she’s currently a part of. He is tall, blonde and gorgeous. There goes the last thread of hope, Kurt thinks. Not that there was much to begin with.

When he looks back at Rachel, her expression is serious, even slightly sad. “You have a crush on him, don’t you?”

There’s no use responding. Rachel knows him well enough to see through his evasions and lies, and confirming it will not change anything. The facts remain the same, so he just returns his gaze forwards and waits for Rachel to put in her two cents. Surprisingly enough, she sounds more pitying than anything when she finally speaks.

“Kurt, I’m sorry, but you know you can’t, right?”

“I know.”

“Even if Brad wasn’t around, there’s Sophia to take into consideration-“

“I know, Rachel!” Kurt just can’t take listening to this anymore. He knows better than anyone how complicated his life is at the moment. It has been for years really. Still, he feels sorry for snapping at Rachel when she’s only trying to be sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I just don’t want to talk about this now, all right?”

Rachel understands immediately. It’s one of the things that Kurt loves about her. It is hard to believe this woman sitting beside him on the subway is the same person as the self-centered diva he met in high school. Then again, he hardly recognizes himself anymore either, so what does he expect? They have both changed. Rachel for the better. Kurt- well, he’s not quite sure yet.

Putting on a smile he stands up as the subway stops. “Ready for brunch?” Rachel smiles and takes his hand, and together they go to have their meal.

****

In the days following his and Rachel’s trip to Brooklyn Kurt spends much of his spare time (which granted, isn’t a whole lot what with his boss being even more difficult to deal with than usual due to a pending deadline) pondering Blaine Anderson’s work. More accurately, he is obsessing about his own reaction to said work. As soon as they had gotten to brunch and started discussing what they’d seen, Kurt had admitted to Rachel that there was a lot more merit in the art than he at first let on. While it still wasn’t something he would ever hang in his living room (ok, he might consider a few of the photographs, but the paintings were a definite no), he was intrigued by the idea behind them, and now wants nothing more than to pick his brains about what brought on the idea.

Which is why, as soon as Kurt arrives home after work the following Wednesday, he immediately sits down at his computer and starts writing. Not being able to do what he loves for a living yet does not stop him from pursuing his passion of writing. The blog he keeps is there just for moments like this one; when he feels like writing out his thoughts in order to make sense of them. Besides, Kurt figures, if it might help him get some recognition in the end, he can’t exactly say he’s opposed to that.

This past weekend I did something no critic should ever do, and allowed my enjoyment of an art exhibition to be conditioned by my bad mood at having been dragged out of bed early by my very energetic roommate. To add insult to injury, I unknowingly made my contempt for the work known to the artist himself. In hindsight, I can’t believe I wasn’t met with a cold attitude at that, and the curiosity that was there instead is probably a big reason why I wasn’t clued in until was on my way home and my roommate told me the man I’d been complaining too was indeed Blaine Anderson.

Therefore I think it’s necessary that I start this post offering my sincerest apologies for my lack of tact in my meeting with the artist. Should he be reading this post, which is highly unlikely in and of itself, consider this a retraction of my initial statement. I have after a lot of contemplation (and let’s be honest, incessant nagging from my roommate) realized that there is much more than meets the eye in Mr. Anderson’s work, and while it might not be exactly what I would hang in my own apartment, it holds its own as art. In fact, the more I think about it the more I would like to pick his brain and learn what brought on this idea of his.

He continues on writing in depth about a few of the works after declaring himself satisfied with the introduction-slash-apology. If he’s lucky it will reach Blaine. If not, well…the chance of the two of them meeting again is slim, and Kurt doubts he made much of an impression on the artist either way. It surprises Kurt how much that thought disappoints him.

Just as Kurt finishes dotting his I’s and crossing his t’s and presses post on the blog post, his phone starts blasting off One Direction’s ‘What Makes You Beautiful’, and he immediately smiles, knowing who is at the other end of that call. Looking over at the clock he sees that yes, right on time.

“Hey, Sophia!” he says, a big smile appearing on his face and washing away all the stress of the week. It’s incredible how these weekly phone calls manage to do that like nothing else in his life.

“Daddy!” Sophia’s voice on the other side of the line is so enthusiastic that he finds himself moving the phone away from his ear slightly, laughing at his daughter’s enthusiasm.

“Hey, honey. How are you?”

Just like that Sophia launches into telling him everything she’s been up to since they talked last week, while Kurt laughs and revels in the joy in the little girl’s voice while he can. Too soon it becomes time to say goodbye, and it takes all of Kurt’s strength to not start crying as his six-year-old lets him know it’s time to go.

“Oh, mommy says I have to hang up now,” she says, and despite the sorrow Kurt feels at this week’s goodbye, he can’t help feeling a little satisfied that Sophia sounds slightly petulant that her mom is making her hang up. However, he promised himself long ago that he wouldn’t sink to that level. Even though her mother is unable to make such promises, he figures he should be the bigger person here.

“Ok, honey. Just remember, daddy loves you more than anything in the world. I can’t wait for you to come visit in two weeks!”

“I love you too, daddy!”

As the line goes dead, Kurt feels tears start falling down his face.