There was a comfortable silence throughout the Turner’s New York townhouse the morning Tyler Freeman came to visit. It started as a normal day, give or take the fact that six year old Kylie had her first huge dance recital that night and was shoving fruit into her mouth and watching a Disney movie to calm her nerves, wearing her tiara and pink tutu. Her mother, Alice, watched her from the kitchen, wondering where the time was going. It seemed like only yesterday

She walked into the living room where her father sat, as he did everyday. Kurt had no other family besides his only daughter, and hated to be alone.

“Can I get you something to eat, dad?” 

He shook his head hastily. “I told you. I’m fine.”

Alice sighed. It was early February. Around this time of year, her father would have unusually high amounts of crankiness for a seventy year old man. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold weather or the fact that Valentine’s day was coming up and he didn’t have anyone to share it with for as long as she could remember.

The sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house and Alice left for the front hall, where Kylie was staring at the door with her wide, hazel eyes.

“Mommy. Someone’s at the door. Make sure it’s not a stranger!”

Alice let out a soft chuckle, knowing that she must have learned this in her kindergarden class recently, and ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Don’t worry, Ky. I will.” Alice pushed the curtain of the door next to the window to the side. A skinny young man in a navy cardigan and black trousers was standing on the front porch with his hands shoved in his pockets. A pair of black rimmed glasses sat on his face, and he had a leather messenger bag slung around his shoulder. Deciding he looked safe enough, Alice opened the door. “Hello?”

“Hello, miss. My name is Tyler. I’m with the New York Times. My research shows that Kurt Hummel lives here.”

Alice was taken aback that this man somehow knew who her father was and slowly nodded. “Yes. He’s my father. What’s this about?”

“We’re doing a story about Blaine Anderson in honor of his seventy fifth birthday that’s approaching soon. We want to interview Kurt.”

Alice knew who Blaine Anderson was. Who didn’t? He was a musical genius and legend back in the day. But Alice was utterly confused at the fact that her father might have some connection to him. 

“Dad? You have a visitor.” Alice gestured for Tyler to come in the room. “This is Tyler from the New York Times. I’ll give time to talk?” The statement came out more as a question. She hoped that her father would give her some kind of eye contact or nod that would signal that it was okay for her to stay, but her dad’s eyes suddenly turned into ice, not looking in her direction, but at the young man in the doorway. Alice sighed and walked out of the room to check on Kylie.

“Mr. Hummel? I’m Tyler Freeman. I’m with the New York Times.”

“I think that’s already been established.” The older man snapped. Tyler couldn’t help but jump backwards a bit at the man’s hostility. He studied him for a moment. Kurt Hummel was a slim man, clad in a silver suit with a bright red tie. Unlike other elderly men Tyler knew, Kurt had almost a full head of hair.

Tyler approached Kurt once again and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Kurt looked hesitantly at the stranger’s hand before taking it and giving it a small shake. “Can I help you with something?”

Tyler nodded and sat down on the white couch adjacent to Kurt. “Blaine Anderson. His 75th birthday is coming up next month.” Kurt clutched the arms of his chair tightly, his knuckles quickly turning white. “The Times is doing a whole spread on him in his honor.”

“What’s this have to do with me?” Kurt looked disgusted. “You show up at my door uninvited to ask me about Blaine Anderson? Years later. It’s people like you who sent me into hiding!”

“Mr. Hummel, I-”

“I had to leave my city in fear of being arrested or murdered. How do you think that made me feel? You’re bring back such horrible memories for me that I’ve tried to forget. I suggest you leave, sir.”

Tyler sighed and ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair. “I know it as bad. But things are different now. A lot different. Gay marriage is being legalized all over, including here.” He stuck out his left hand in front of Kurt, flashing the band that he wore on his finger. “My husband and I got married right after we graduated college earlier this year.”

Kurt stared at Tyler’s hand for the second time that day.

“That’s why I was given this assignment. Because it’s relatable, I guess. It’s my first article in the Times, ever.” Tyler admitted. “Look, I know you went through a lot. But it’s history.You weren’t alone. It will be a great educational lesson for so many people.”

“About what? Being in love, having my boyfriend and his fiance- by the way, a girl-.”

“No. Our journey. People like you and me. The bridges we had to get over and the wars we had to face to get where we are today. The world is changing right before our very eyes, but it wasn’t always this way.”

Kurt looked out the window, watching all of the traffic pass by and people walk down the street. Tyler was right. Things were different now.

“November of 1960. That’s when I met Blaine Anderson for the first time.” Kurt began. 

November, 1960

That was The King, Elvis Presley, with Jailhouse Rock. But you already knew that. Happy Monday, New York! It’s early, I know. All of you guys and gals must be tired, but don’t worry, I’ll help you jumpstart your morning with this next one. The hottest new hit that’s sweeping the nation- who is also performing a sold out concert at the Carlton Theater in Red Bank, New Jersey on Sunday. Here’s Teenage Dream by Blaine Anderson.

20 year old Kurt Hummel burst through the boutique's doors, fresh coats of sweat and snow covering his forehead. He flung his messenger bag onto the counter and stopped to take a breath. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Quinn." he called out. "My car hasn’t been working, and the snows’s really coming down out there.”

Quinn Fabray stepped out from the back of the store, a lavender blouse and thread in her hands. She smiled at her business partner. “It’s totally fine. I was a little late myself. There’s a rip in this shirt that we just got in. I’m seeing if I can sew it back so no one could tell.” She leaned against the counter and continued to sew, watching Kurt fixing a pile of shirts on a shelf. “Noah stopped by my apartment again last night. Drunk.”

Kurt sighed. “What happened?”

“You know what happened. The same thing he does all the time. He comes over and tries to make me feel guilty for giving our baby up for adoption.”

Kurt abandoned the pile of shirts and moved over to the cash register, closer to Quinn. “You did nothing wrong.” he assured her. “You did what was best for the baby.”

Quinn shook her head. “Maybe Noah’s right. I shouldn’t have given up my own child for adoption. Gosh, I’m such a ditz.” She tossed the blouse onto the counter and threw her hands in the air.

“Quinn.” Kurt walked over to Quinn from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Do not listen to Noah Puckerman. He’s bad news."

Quinn wiped a tear out of her eye and began to laugh bitterly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just having a rough morning. Let’s get this place looking right.” Quinn resumed sewing the shirt. “So any luck getting the tickets for the Blaine Anderson concert?”

“A pretty crummy seat, but it’s a seat. All I can afford on my budget.” Kurt let out a happy sigh, putting piles of various papers and receipts behind the counter into neat piles. “But I can’t believe I’m actually going to see Blaine Anderson. In person.” He spun around with a pile of paperwork and began to hum Teenage Dream. Some checks slipped out of his hands and onto the floor.

“You’re such a fanboy.” Quinn joked, shaking her head and getting on her knees to retrieve the fallen slips of paper. “I’m so happy for you, though. How exciting! I would go with you, but I’m already behind on my rent from last month. I hope business picks up now that the holidays are coming.”

Sure enough, more people than the two store owners would have usually expected wandered into the store over the next few hours, some making purchases, but others picking up and inspecting a few items of clothing before leaning over and whispering to their friend or husband that maybe Macy’s would have a better selection, and leave without even saying a measly goodbye to the people behind the counter.

“Bitch.” Kurt muttered under his breath when a woman did just this, ignoring his “Have a nice day.” completely.

A petite woman with curly brown hair walked into the store around noon. Kurt admired her blue duffle coat, mentally noting that he should try to order some of them into the store as soon as possible. The woman stayed towards the front of the store, feeling some of the fabrics on dresses and browsing their selection of coats.

“Kurt. Kurt. Kurt.” Quinn scurried over to Kurt and elbowed him in the side. “Do you know who that is?”

Kurt adjusted the wire framed glasses that he wore to read. He gaped. “Is that... is that Rachel Berry?”

“Yes!” Quinn squealed quietly. “The Rachel Berry.”

A few minutes later, Rachel turned towards Kurt and Quinn and started to walk to the counter. She approached the two giddy employees, who were pretending that they were actually doing something productive and not worshipping the ground at her feet. “Hello there. I’m Rachel Berr-”

“We know.” Quinn blurted out. “I love your music so much, Ms. Berry.”

“You’re such a fangirl, Quinn.” Kurt mimicked Quinn’s earlier comment, earning him an evil glare from Quinn. “But you’re absolutely amazing, Ms. Berry."

“I know.” Rachel smiled at the two of them. “Anyways, the Tony Awards are coming up in March and I’m up for an award for my role in Fanny. Therefore, I need a dress. Custom made. It would be humiliating to walk in wearing the same dress as someone else.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, some woman think the only store in existence is Macy’s.”

“Ohofcourse. Definitely. Yes. You won’t be disappointed, Ms. Berry!” Kurt had to stop himself from jumping up and down. Yes, it was fun having regular customers coming in all day long, even if they didn’t purchase anything. It was extremely fun when a wealthy woman would come in and buy almost everything in sight But deep down, it had always been a dream of Kurt’s to dress an actual celebrity. And here she was. Rachel Berry, the recent chart topping jazz singer and Broadway actress. 

“I better not be.” Rachel replied. “I’m planning on spending a lot of money on it, and I want it to be worth every penny. So I was thinking floral, since it’ll be the beginning of spring. But it has to be somewhat elegant.”

“Lovely! We just got new floral fabrics in the back. I’ll show you.” Quinn rushed into the storage room to retrieve the box of fabrics they had received in the mail just days ago.

“Blaine, my boy!” Tony Monroe threw his arms around Blaine, grabbing him into a small bear hug. Blaine cringed at Tony’s scent, a heavy mixture of beer, salami and cigar, but tried his best to act like he wasn’t bothered by his manager’s strange habits and odors. He was a good man, and an even better manager, despite this.

“Tony. How’s it going, man?” Blaine forced a smile and patted the older Italian man on the back until he let go. Blaine sat back down on the stool.

Tony held a finger up and ran out of the room, returning seconds later with a piece of paper in his hand. “Teenage Dream is still at number one, kid!” Tony flung a Billboard charts list at Blaine. 

Blaine looked for himself and grinned. “That’s awesome!” Blaine never expected to be topping the Billboard Top 100. Hell, he never expected to be sitting in CBS 30th Street Studios recording songs, just a few hours after Mr. Ray Charles had been in the exact same recording booth that he was currently in.

He never expected to get a record deal with Columbia. He never expected to get to New York City. But the unexpected had happening to him.

“Just wait.” Tony took a cigar out of his jacket pocket and lit it up. “Now that this song is getting all kinds of attentions, you’ll be getting number ones like this all the time, especially if you keep that voice of yours strong and healthy. I’ll be getting so much money....” His voice drifted off.

“Excuse me?” Blaine raised an eyebrow.

“We. I said we. Because you’ll be getting money. And my twenty percent. You know I love you, kid.” Tony let out a laugh and slapped Blaine on the back.

“It’s been a blast, Ton. But I have to go pick up Rachel. I’m done here for the day.” Blaine walked out of the booth and put on his parka that was hanging on the coat rack.

“Where’s she at today?”

Blaine thought for a moment. “I think the place is called Beth’s. She’s getting a dress for the Tony’s.”

“You guys are going to be the best looking couple there. You keep it up and keep being you. God, I love ya." Tony suddenly looked cautious. "Just be careful at that store."

“Why?”

Tony motioned for Blaine to lean it. Blaine slowly obeyed. “One of the owners. He’s a little...limp wristed if you catch my drift.”

“He’s what?”

“Limp wristed.”

“What’s that mean.”

“You really are gullible son.” Tony rolled his eyes and shoved his cigar in a nearby ash tray. “It means he’s probably gay as the goddamn Forth of July. Real men, they don’t sell clothes for a living. They marry beautiful woman, have children, a steady job, support the family.”

Blaine gulped and nodded slowly. Of course he knew. It was on all the time. The words began to repeat in his head like a catchy adverting jingle.

“Ralph was sick. A sickness that was not visible like small pox. But no less dangerous or contagious. A sickness of the mind.”

When boys began to go through puberty at Blaine’s age, they would often share all of the details of the racy dreams they would have about the teachers and girls at the schoolyard during recess. The only thing Blaine would be able to contribute was the dream he had about their physical education teacher, Mr. Turner. But Blaine kept his mouth shut about that and acted like he wanted to keep his dreams private, no matter how hard the guys bugged him to spill all of the dirty details. It didn’t mean he was any different from anyone else, right? He figured it would go away eventually.

He was wrong. The dreams continued, more rapidly at that.Throughout high school, the guys would all talk about how they hooked up with this chick or went all the way with that girl. He nodded like he could actually relate. His parents had always tried to get him to go out with various girls from church and the neighborhood, but he claimed that no one caught his interest. Was he ever grateful to move to New York from Ohio after high school, away from his parent’s constant nagging for him to find a girlfriend and get hitched so they can get some grandchildren.

He met Rachel Berry through Tony. He had just picked up Rachel as a client, and the two of them met at a party. Rachel was cute and had one of the most beautiful voices in the world. But something still felt empty and missing inside him every time he kissed her lips or cuddled up on the couch next to her to watch television. He longed for something more. Something different. Someone different.

“Blaine? You alive there, buddy?”

Blaine went back to reality. “Sorry Tony. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Is Rachel pregnant?” Tony looked hopeful.

Blaine’s eyes widened. “No. No. Not at all. No. I’ve got to go.” He rushed out of the room.

Tony followed Blaine out to to his black Chrysler. “Remember what I told you. Be careful there, okay?”

“I will.” Blaine said goodbye to his manager and drove away from the building as fast as he could without going over the speed limit.

Maybe it was already a little too late to be careful. Blaine was worried.

“I love the yellow one.” Rachel pointed at the yellow fabric that was covered with pink flowers. “It’s so chic. And it’ll looks good with my eyes.”

“That’s my favorite too.” Quinn noted, making a quick sketch on her notepad. She pushed it over the small table that was set up in the back of the store. “So we’ll do the dress in the yellow floral pattern and maybe do a green bow around the waist to give it a little extra panache.” 

“Fabulous.” Rachel clapped her hands together and took her checkbook out of her purse. “I’ll take it.”

“Let me get an order form from the back.” Kurt placed his glasses on his head and left for the storage room.

“I’m going to look so ah-mazing.” Rachel boasted to Quinn. “My boyfriend and I are going be the best looking couple at this show.” The door opened and Rachel spun around. “Speak of the devil!”

“Hey Rach.” Blaine wiped his feet on the brown doormat and stepped inside.  He walked over to the back where Rachel and Quinn sat and planted a quick kiss on her head before turning to Quinn. “Nice store you’ve got here. You have a lovely display.”

“I-I-I-I Thanks.” Quinn gaped. 

Blaine grinned. “So this is your store?”

Quinn nodded. “Me and Kurt.”

“Okay, I got the order form. Let’s see, so you wanted the ye-” Kurt dropped his clipboard to the floor. “Oh, um.”

To say Kurt Hummel was a Blaine Anderson fan would be a major understatement. He was in love with Blaine’s voice the moment he had first heard Teenage Dream on the radio. Blaine had only been on the music scene for a good two years, but had already touched the musical lives of almost everyone nowadays, including Kurt. Every night, Kurt would come home from a long day at the shop and play his Blaine Anderson records and have a glass of red wine or two. Sometimes, he would bring his record player to the shop whenever his car was working and play his music while customers would shop. He followed all of the Blaine interviews on the radio and rare television appearances. 

And here he was, standing in front of him, charming as ever.

“Hey there. Kurt, right?” Blaine smiled.

Kurt held up a hand, wanting to wave, but his body was working against him. “Hi.” he squeaked. 

“Kurt’s a huge fan.” Quinn explained. “He actually has a ticket to your concert on Sunday in Red Bank.”

“That’s great.” Blaine shot Kurt a huge grin that made it feel like all of Kurt’s insides were melting.

“My dress?” Rachel interrupted, the annoyance that she’d been completely ignored for the past thirty seconds clear in her tone.

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry, Ms. Berry.” Kurt picked up his clipboard from the floor and placed his glasses back on the brim of his nose. “So the yellow floral dress, green ribbon. Quinn will take your measurements and your dress should be done in a few weeks.”

“Perfect.” Rachel stood up. Quinn pulled a orange tape measure out of her dress pocket and began to measure Rachel.

Blaine turned back towards Kurt. "So you have a ticket for Sunday?" Kurt nodded and looked at the ground. "That's great! It looks like it's going to be a great show."

"Yeah."

"You have nice eyes."

Kurt's head shot up. "What?"

"I said, you have nice eyes. I've never seen eyes like yours on anyone before."

"Oh, well, um, thanks." Kurt muttered and looked back down at his feet.

"No problem." 

"Done." Quinn announced. She shoved the tape measure back in her pocket.

“It was nice meeting you both.” Blaine shook Quinn’s hand, then Kurt’s for a noticeably longer time. Blaine’s hands were soft, and fit Kurt’s like it was meant to be there. A blush appeared on Kurt’s face as he pulled away when Rachel elbowed him in the side and hastily whispered something in his ear. “See you Sunday?”

Kurt nodded.

“Blaine. My hair appointment. 10 minutes.”

“Right. Bye guys.” Blaine waved at the store owners one more time before being forcefully pulled out of the store by Rachel.

Rachel stuck her head back inside the door. "Call me when my dress is ready! I left my number on the order form." She shut the door.

Kurt grimaced. “That girl is actually a nightmare.”

“Aww, she’s cute.” Quinn closed the order book and looked up to meet Kurt’s Are-you-kidding-me expression. She shrugged, smiling, and walked to the back of the store to get started on the dress, while Kurt went over to the calendar and prayed for Sunday to come sooner.