CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SATURDAY MORNING

BLAINE

"On behalf of today's flight crew, let us be the first to welcome you to Atlanta."

Once we were stopped at the gate, I groaned as I rose to my feet, placing my leather messenger bag that I had stowed under my seat on my shoulder. I was sore and exhausted.

Last night was spent in a sleepless stupor with excitement over the Atlanta trip and potential contact from Kurt bubbling up practically every five minutes. I could hardly recall leaving the office after sending my message to Kurt and didn't even remember how I got home. I threw my clothes into an overnight bag and parked myself in front of the TV for the night; beer in hand and laptop on the table. I kept the NYCDate website open all night, hoping for a message to come through from Kurt.

I had gotten at least a dozen messages last night, each one taunting me since none of them were from Kurt. Sure, the guys contacting me were attractive for the most part, but I still couldn't get my mind off Kurt. It felt unhealthy to think of how much I thought about him in the past few hours but I couldn't stop myself. And it was killing me to keep it bottled in, but I knew that involving Santana this early in any dating stage was setting myself up for her constant harassment. I had thought about talking about it with my old Warbler buddies, but I still hadn't quite reconnected with Wes enough to talk to him about my love life just yet and even my sharing with David the other night was still slightly out of character for me.

I was the kind of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve, but I was always afraid that by telling too many people about my dating life would end in mockery or worse - people constantly bugging me about my love life. I definitely wanted a relationship with someone - with The One, really - but being constantly bothered about your romantic interludes is not something a single person wants to deal with. Ever. It's too much pressure and I already put enough pressure on myself in these situations by being such a hopeless romantic.

In the end, I spent most of my night staring at my computer and putting back beers before passing out on the couch at 2am. Thankfully I had the foresight to set an alarm on my phone and managed to bring it with me into the living room otherwise I would have missed my 9am flight.

I was glad that I wasn't expected to meet with Mr. Reed until Sunday afternoon for brunch because I definitely could use the day to relax and get some sleep before having what could be the biggest meeting of my career. Plus I had been born in Atlanta and my dad was from here; it'd be nice to see the place I hadn't visited since I was 13 for my grandmother's funeral.

The air felt warmer than the blustery wind of New York City as I walked through the walkway to the main terminal. I was thankful for the change. Although I liked the fall and cold weather, I hadn't packed a lot of warm clothes since my normal winter wear wouldn't exactly fit in one small bag.

I navigated the busy terminal and flowed with the crowd headed toward baggage claim and ground transportation. Though I had initially planned on just taking cabs and Atlanta's subway system to get around, Clark had insisted that I rent a car since everything in the city was fairly spread out and calling for taxis would become bothersome after a while. I certainly didn't complain since this was on the company dime, but I hadn't driven a car in about seven years; who knew how that would go.

The airport was packed, but I was thankful that I hadn't checked any bags because the crowds waiting in baggage claim appeared daunting. Balancing my overnight bag along with my messenger bag, I made my way to the rental car area and within five minutes was behind the driver's seat of a Nissan Sentra. I initially had laughed when I saw the car since it looked so tiny from the outside, but now that I was behind the wheel of the car it felt like I was driving a boat. Being a New Yorker and never driving makes anything with four wheels feel like it's too big.

I easily pulled out of the parking lot and followed the signs leading toward I-85N toward my hotel in the center of the city. I had asked the travel team where they'd recommend for me to stay and they'd insisted on Midtown; praising the area's proximity to good local restaurants, walking distance from the city's main park, and fairly easy to access from the interstate. Since I didn't want to spend too much time behind the wheel of a car, I agreed and they booked me at the Georgian Terrace.

The hotel was easy enough to find at the major intersection of Ponce de Leon and Peachtree Street - two of the city's most well known streets. The hotel itself was gorgeous; an older building across the street from what looked like a 1920s theater with a neon sign stating "Fox" on the outside. I vaguely remembered hearing something about this place from my grandmother, but I couldn't place exactly what she'd said now.

Within twenty minutes of pulling the rental into the garage below the hotel, I was checked in and had found my way up to my room on the 10th floor. I gingerly placed my bags on the bed and walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains. I could see across to the Fox Theatre - a tidbit the receptionist had mentioned upon my arrival - and a smattering of buildings beyond that with a brick exterior. If I looked closely, I could also see the highway splitting through the city; something I was vaguely familiar with now that I had driven on it. As quickly as I had pulled back the curtains, I put them back in their closed position and moved back toward the bed. I pushed the bags onto the floor, dropped face first into the pillows, and fell asleep - dead to the world.

KURT

Work yesterday had taken a lot of out me. After leaving Lauren's place, I barely had time to shower and dress before I was jetting out the door. Wes was there eagerly awaiting the story I had promised him about James, but I apologized profusely as I slammed my bedroom door shut and rushed through getting dressed. As I dashed out the front door narrowly forgetting my keys, I could hear Wes laughing and yelling something like "you're not off the hook" before I darted to the theater.

The work itself went off without a hitch as did the show and thankfully, I soon found myself back at my apartment at nearly midnight. I was thankful that the hustle and bustle of the show had prevented me from running into Lauren and potentially having to hear her talk about Blaine because I wasn't exactly in the mood to help her dissect the guy's every move. Plus the bender the night before coupled with the lack of sleep in my own bed had put me in a foul mood and I didn't want to say something I'd regret later.

I had been exhausted and within minutes of returning to my quiet home last night, I had changed into pajamas and swiftly fallen asleep.

But now, in the morning, it wasn't so quiet as I awoke to sounds of Wes in the kitchen grinding coffee beans. I muttered curses under my breath as I gazed over to my alarm clock beside the bed. 10:00am. I was glad it wasn't any earlier than that otherwise I probably would have killed Wes. I considered myself a morning person, but after the past few days I didn't want to be awake any earlier than possible.

I pushed back the duvet on my bed, whipped my legs around and winced slightly as my feet hit the cool hardwood floor. I wiggled my toes against the wood for a moment before standing with an audible groan and making my way out to the kitchen.

"Good morning starshine," Wes said with a grin as he poured the ground coffee into his French press. I grunted back in reply and grabbed a glass from the cabinet next to the sink before shuffling to the fridge to remove my carton of orange juice. "You don't want something stronger?" Wes asked, motioning to the vat of coffee in his hands. I shook my head and poured the juice and placed it back in the fridge before grabbing a bagel from the bread box and plopping down at the breakfast table across the kitchen.

"You're awfully lively this morning," Wes noted. I shrugged, still unwilling to speak. It wasn't that I was avoiding speaking to Wes, I just wasn't quite awake enough to deal with the onslaught of questions I knew he had since I hadn't talked to him in a few days. He seemed to realize that I'd talk when I was ready and he quietly prepared himself coffee and toast with jam, joining me at the table once his breakfast was complete. By that point, I had already eaten half of the bagel and the juice was nearly gone.

Feeling more apt to talking, I started off with a bang. "Things didn't work out with James," I stated simply. Wes looked up from his coffee mug before placing it back on the table, quirking his eyebrow in confusion.

"How can it already not work out with him?" he asked.

I sighed. "He was still in the closet." Wes' eyes bulged and I knew I didn't need to elaborate any more than that. He remembered what it was like with me and William and when I had spent dozens of nights crying over the heartbreak of my first boyfriend, I had promised Wes - and myself - that I wouldn't date a guy in the closet ever again.

"I'm sorry," Wes said cautiously, taking a bite of his toast. "So," he said between bites, "now what are you going to do? Did you email any other guys from that site?"

"No," I replied. "I am kind of bummed after this.. whatever it was with James, so I'm not sure that I should keep up with the online dating thing. What if they're all still in the closet?"

"That can't be the case, Kurt. You're out and you're on that site. I think you just found one that wasn't as brave as you. Don't give up just yet. Just ride it out for a few more weeks and see what happens," he said.

"I guess," I said, still uncertain that love would come my way through the internet. I thought about James and even thought about some of the other guys whose pictures I'd seen on the site before my mind eventually turned back to Blaine. I couldn't forget the guy - even if he was straight and into Lauren. It was like reliving high school with having another straight crush.

"You okay?" I heard Wes ask, effectively pulling me out of thoughts of the most attractive man I'd met all year.

"Yeah, I guess," I lied. Really, I was a mess. I didn't even care about the James thing anymore; I couldn't help but think about Blaine. But I couldn't talk to Lauren about it, but maybe... "Wes, I need your advice about something."

"Okay, shoot," he responded.

"There's this guy..." Wes practically spilled his coffee as he hurriedly placed his cup on the table and clapped his hands together, eagerly awaiting to hear what I had to say. I rolled my eyes and continued. "So, this guy."

"Does he have a name?" he asked.

"Uh-uh, no way. No names right now. If I tell you his name, you'll try to stalk him or something. Besides, I don't know his last name anyway," I retorted.

"So what's the harm then?" Wes chided.

"No way. My story, my rules," I proclaimed. Wes slunk back slightly in my chair before motioning for me to continue. "So this guy. I met him when I went out with Lauren last night."

"Who's Lauren?" he asked.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot you don't know her. Lauren and I went to high school together. She works with me at the theater doing hair and make up. I hadn't seen her in years and we reconnected backstage when I first started." Wes nodded in understanding and I kept the story moving. "Anyway, I went out with Lauren last night to this place in Brooklyn, some bar club place she used to work at, and met this guy there. He knew Lauren since he was a regular and we chatted for a minute before this girl Brittany, who used to be in Bring It On!, pulled him away to dance with him."

"I'm not seeing where this is headed," Wes said, confused.

"Bear with me," I insisted. "This guy... Wes, he is probably the most attractive man I've seen all year. And that includes James and you know how hot he was." He nodded in agreement. I had shown his picture to Wes at one point and he had whistled approvingly at his appearance. "But he was there with Brittany, at least I think he was, but then he also was apparently looking for Lauren afterward since he basically chased down one of Lauren's bartender friends trying to figure out how to get in contact with her."

"So, you have a crush on this guy. But you think he's straight?" he asked cautiously. I nodded sheepishly. "Do you know for sure?"

"I mean, no. But all signs point to the fact that he's straight. He was talking to me one minute then he was pulled away by Brittany and spent half the night trying to get in contact with Lauren!" I exclaimed.

"Kurt, calm down," Wes said, gently touching my hands that rested on the table. "I'm not trying to ask to get your hopes up, but I wanted to be sure that you weren't just over thinking things. I know you're afraid that you're always going to have crushes on straight guys - or closeted guys - but I just wanted to be sure that you knew about him before you went on some crazy tirade in your mind."

I nodded in agreement. "I just... when will I have a crush on a guy and it'll work out and he'll be gay, single, out, and amazing in every way that I have on the checklist in my head?" I asked, not expecting an answer.

"I don't know," Wes stated as he drained the last of his coffee. He rubbed my hand one last time before pulling back and looking at me apologetically. "Look, I'm sorry to hear this story and have to leave, but I'm meeting David to go shopping for a Halloween costume. But we can talk about this more when I get back?" he asked. "I think it might help if I ducked out and you can just... think, ya know? I realize it's a lot to spring on you this early and I know how much you hate me in the morning anyway."

I laughed as I rolled my eyes. "It's fine. Get outta here."

Wes laughed as he stood, placing his plate and mug into the sink before grabbing his keys and wallet and scooting out the door. Once the door clicked behind him, I was left with my thoughts again. What a dangerous place to be.

I put my glass in the sink, swearing that I'd wash it later, before heading back into my room and opening up my laptop. If I was going to be left alone to my thoughts in this apartment alone, I was at least going to listen to music so it wasn't so quiet. I turned on my signature dance mix and let the beats pump through the laptop speakers, tentatively swinging to the beat until my phone pinged.

I hustled to my bedside table and unlocked my phone to see a text from Wes... and about a dozen more along with three missed phone calls and numerous emails. I forgot that I hadn't checked my phone since I arrived in the theater last night - whoops. I replied to Wes' text - he'd asked me if I wanted to hang out with him and David after shopping, which I politely declined - and went through the additional texts I had gotten from Mercedes, Finn, Roselyn, and about four from my dad. None of them were urgent, so I figured I could reply to them later.

Instead, I was more intrigued about the notification that had popped up from my NYCDate app. I had received messages from a few other guys other than James, but the emails had thinned out in the past few days. I tapped the app and my inbox popped up, noting that I had one new message.

Subject: Hi Kurt!

I clicked on the message before nearly dropping my phone onto the floor.

You've gotta be kidding me.

Right next to the body of the message was a picture of Blaine.ThatBlaine. The Blaine that I thought had a dreamy smile and excellent dancing moves... and a hot ass. Can't deny that last part.

Wait. But how'd he find me on here? He's straight...

Oh.

Well. That's an interesting development. I got over my momentary shock and read his message.

Kurt,
I don't know if you remember me from The Bell House, but I'm Blaine. I saw your profile on this site and that, along with meeting you the other night, made me want to know more about you. You seem like a passionate and wonderful person and I'd be honored to get to know you even more.
I'm going out of town on business this weekend, but if you're interested I'd love to talk to you more and maybe see if we can meet up again when I come back to New York.
I really hope to hear from you soon.
-Blaine

Commence flailing. I immediately dropped my phone onto the bed and started dancing around my bedroom, not even caring if my movements matched the beat of the music that played in the background.

He remembered me from The Bell House. He wants to get to know me. He's... out of town. Well damn. I mean, I don't know why I would expect to meet up with him immediately after getting a message from him, but I certainly had hoped. It wasn't as if we didn't know each other on at least a small level - we had met each other once. Well, technically twice. But I'm still not admitting to gawking at him at Cosi.

I tapped out of the message center and clicked on Blaine's name, pulling up his profile. The first thing to show up on my phone was a larger photo of Blaine's smiling face - wearing an impeccably smart sweater - looking back at me. God, he was gorgeous.

I scrolled down a bit to read more about him.

Name: Blaine.Covered.
Occupation: Artist Development.Okay, so he's in music; specifically artist development. I have no idea what that means. I guess I'll have to ask him... maybe on a date?
Age: 26.Same age; that's nice.
Borough: Hell's Kitchen.I wonder if I've walked past his house before.
Height: 5'8".He was only slightly shorter than me... and I liked it.
Religious Affiliation: Agnostic.I can get behind that.

So far, so good.

Do you drink? Sometimes.I witnessed that.
Do you smoke? No. Well, not often enough to say sometimes.As long as he doesn't smoke around me, that's fine.
Do you do drugs? No.Thank god.
Are you a morning or evening person? Evening. Waking up before 8am is a chore.I laughed. I can imagine him being all pouty in the morning, his hair all messed up with curls every... Kurt. Stop.
Are you an indoor or outdoor person? Both?Hopefully he's indifferent enough that he won't make me go hiking or something.
What's your ideal vacation? A driving tour through Ireland.That sounds nice, actually. I bet it's beautiful.
Do you think you want to have kids? Potentially. It would depend on the guy since I wouldn't want to intentionally raise a kid without a partner. Besides, I'm not at a place to make that decision right this minute.God, we are so on the same page about this. Are we on the same page about more?

My heart beat faster as I skipped down to his statement about himself. So far, he sounded amazing, no - perfect, on paper. Not to mention I noticed the 99% next to his photo near his photo - I mean, that had to be a sign, right?

Can I have directions? To where, you ask? To your heart.

Now that I've got the cheesy pickup line out of the way, hey there, I'm Blaine. The basics are I was born in The South, raised in the Midwest, and went to college in New York – which is how I ended up here. I like to think that I'm the best of all of the regions of the United States – old fashioned and chivalrous like a Southerner, accommodating and sweet like a Midwesterner, and artistically avant-garde and in love with the big city like a true New Yorker.

I work in the music business managing bands and it's been a dream come true. I'm passionate about music and listen to every type of music from rock to pop to jazz and even musicals. But if you listen to country, don't plan on me having any of that on my iPod.

These introductory paragraphs feel a little awkward, so I've enlisted the help of my friends to better describe me. They'd say I was a fierce friend who will always root for the underdog and that I'm the epitome of a gentleman; charismatic and charming with everyone I meet. They'd share stories about the time I performed an impromptu musical number with full choreography in Times Square on a whim (I wasn't drunk, I promise), the time in college where I drove 500 miles through the night to visit a friend who was having a rough time at home, and how I cooked a feast for 15 hungry musicians out of ramen, chicken kabobs from a street cart, and an assortment of random canned fruits and vegetables that managed to make its way into an article in Village Voice on how to feed a lot of people without spending a ton of money. They would also crack all kinds of embarrassing jokes about me, but I'll spare you those details unless you meet them in person.

And what am I doing on this online dating site? Who knows, I could be looking foryou.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Okay, he just got more perfect. The rest of his answers seemed inconsequential. But honestly, I was curious about one last thing...

What are you looking for in a partner?
More than anything, I'm looking for a partner/companion – someone who will be my equal in life and in love. He should fight for me and fight with me. He should help make me a better person and who can teach me the ways that I can support and love them. I also want someone that I can come home to, who is willing to put up with my cheesiness, who doesn't mind if I leave my clothes lying next to the hamper rather than in them, and someone who would consider me their best friend. I'm looking for that once in a lifetime love, one that defines a generation.

That's it.He'sit. All the attraction that I felt wasn't in vain. Blaine... whatever his last name was... ticked off all of the boxes in my mind for the guy I wanted to be with. And what was even more exciting is that I still didn't know everything about him. But based on his profile and the one time I truly met him, he was definitely a candidate for the man of my dreams.

I could barely control my trembling fingers as I tapped back to the message center and hit the reply button at the bottom of the message Blaine had written. I willed my brain to stop freaking out enough to at least type a somewhat coherent and decent reply that wouldn't give away how excited I was right now. I needed my reply to be flirty yet funny and pithy; this response could set the tone of everything. I thought for a moment before anxiously tapping away on my iPhone's touchscreen.

Subject: RE: Hi Kurt!

Hi Blaine!
Of course I remember you, how could I forget! I'm so glad you contacted me. I'd love to get to know you more as well. I guess we can email back and forth until you come back from your trip. Please don't spam me with emails from your mom's cat or something.
Can't wait to hear from you!
Kurt

khummel (a) freemail. com

I eagerly clicked send and threw myself onto my bed, arms splayed at either side of me and a grin still plastered on my face. I hope it wasn't too forward that I sent him my personal email address. Since he knew Lauren, I had to assume he'd be al...

Oh god. Lauren.