Kurt had been feeling excited about seeing his entire performance entourage together. They were the people closest to him in age, after all; a good portion of his time on tour would be spent sitting with them on planes, in buses, and onstage. He had gotten Terri to call them all for the final shoot so they could officially meet each other and see how well they would get along.

When Terri agreed to letting them all come to the shoot, Kurt thought they would all be in the same room, or at be least able to go somewhere to talk. But as soon as Kurt had arrived, Terri whisked him away into his own private, overly-large dressing room, where a slowly waking Giulia and her fashion flunkies were waiting to slap ungodly amounts of makeup and effects on his face. He was forced to sit still and let Terri guide the gang in as if they were visiting an inmate; each group of three got five minutes before they were whisked away to make room for the next trio. The only two who were allowed to remain past their visiting time were Santana and Sebastian, who had been causing enough of a ruckus in their dressing room the tour's Publicity Director was forced to move them where Carl could keep an eye out for unnecessary violence. At the moment they were annoying Ronan-the-makeup-applier, making up verdicts about his application sponges and demanding he explain why he doesn't use some grassroots, organic, extremely expensive brand.

Going by the way Sebastian was staring at Ronan's lithe form and smirking at the flustered blush rising on his cheeks, Kurt figured they were working an elaborate setup. If Ronan and Sebastian wound up going to a club Friday night to 'discuss the various methods of makeup application', Kurt would not be surprised.

Ronan pounced on Santana as she stuck her fingers in a pot of foundation just as Kurt's phone vibrated against his leg.

Coffee Mate [8:45am]: my entire morning has been a lie. ABD's a ruse.

Kurt took a second for an inner complaint (how dare Blaine's brother lie to him like that!) before replying.

Ohmigod [8:46am]: that's awful! Tell him that for me. I was looking forward to lunch all week :(

It had been disappointing, seeing Blaine have to cancel their lunch plans, but Kurt guessed he understood. If he had a little brother he hardly saw because they were hours apart, when they were in the same city, he would want to spend time with him. Didn't make it suck any less, Kurt figured. Now his last free afternoon was going to be spent with Roz and whichever of the stalkers Terri put on duty. Ken was his usual night watchman; sitting in front of the television and guarding both the front door and the emergency exit on the commercial breaks. Carl was his day watchman; more alert and able to fend off paparazzi and fans, he was harder for Kurt to get away from. Not that he really wanted to escape again.

That wasn't true. He would have gotten away that afternoon if he was eating lunch with Blaine. But he wasn't now, so escape plans were useless. And adding insult to injury, the afternoon out he had planned was cancelled on account of a lie.

Coffee Mate [8:47am]: i know. He says I'm going to forgive him tho; not sure yet; he's got me working for him…

Understanding of Blaine's brother's predicament or not, Kurt wasn't sure he was going to forgive him for taking away the last really fun thing Kurt had been looking forward to.

Ohmigod [8:48am]: it's a trap! don't trust him!!! i'd say abort mission but you're kind of stuck wherever you are now…

Kurt could get lucky and Blaine would be able to text in between whatever his brother had him doing…an empty hope, perhaps, but it proved plenty of distraction as Marissa descended on his hair with a can of hairspray and exacting directions from Giulia. They could meet for dinner, after Kurt made some kind of brilliant dash in the opposite direction from his minders, maybe.

They were thin plans, wisps of fancy that floated by with every pass of the aerosol can over his coiffed, silver-dusted hair, but they were much more enjoyable than remembering Terri, who had managed to loom over him while Kurt was lost in thought.

"Has the shoot manager come in to talk to you?"

"Nobody's come in since the last group you practically cavity scanned." Santana answered, earning a glare from the manager. She shrugged. "What? It's true, and I calls 'em like I sees 'em."

"She's right." Kurt said, "Nobody since Brittany, Aphasia and Anton about an hour ago."

Terri let out an exasperated sigh, muttering something about everyone around her being incompetent, before turning to her Droid.

"Well, we're doing the Ice section of the shoot first; something about rented pieces needing to be returned ASAP, so we're using them so the interns can run them back later. We want to have those shots done by noon, then to switch over to the Fire set so we can finish up by about two thirty."

"And after that?" Kurt said, giving Marissa a 'thank you' gesture as she packed up her things.

"I promised a free afternoon, didn't I? So long as you don't do anything stupid that'll get bad press, I don't care what you do." Terri checked the time on her phone before moving to the mirror in front of Kurt's chair.

"They want to get started at ten—earlier if we can get it there. Of course, we're waiting on the Anderson boy to get here and set up."

Kurt perked up. "Jake's doing the pictures?"

Terri sighed. "He's the only one you'll cooperate with; of course he's taking the shots for us. Plus he's under contract for the production season, so he has to."

Oh, right. The contracts Terri made every aspect of the tour sign. It was a miracle anyone wanted in on the escapade; what with the way those sheets of paper essentially signed away the lives of the workers and service providers. But then again, they had managed to land a lot of up-and-coming talent—the one request of Kurt's Terri was willing to grant. Upstarts worked for cheaper, Terri acknowledged; Kurt just knew the new talent was younger, more fun to be around, and needed all the help they could get to reach the level of fame they wanted. He was hoping they would be able to make something bigger happen for themselves after their contracts expired.

It also didn't hurt that a lot of the young talent was devastatingly attractive. Jacob Anderson was no exception to the rule; tall, dark hair, sparkling blue eyes and a devilish smile, Kurt had seen him charm many a female lighting technician into the most complicated set-ups for his shoots. Jake was funny, and when he directed Kurt into poses he didn't bark orders or make himself sound sleazy, which was the main reason Kurt liked him so much. It definitely wasn't because Kurt could imagine Jake strutting across a catwalk for a show at Fashion Week in a suit only made to sexually frustrate the masses. Nope.

Kurt was shaken out of superimposing Jake's face on the Calvin Klein models he had stored in his memory bank by his cell phone.

Coffee Mate [9:10am]: remember how I told you I couldn't do lunch because my brother was taking me somewhere?

Yes. It was the reason Kurt was in a sort-of-foul mood.

Ohmigod [9:11am]: rub it in, why don't you? :P

But Kurt was curious. He knew Blaine knew that he remembered the botched lunch date, so why exactly was he bringing it up again? Where was he taking Blaine, Acapulco for some fabulous bring-your-brother-to-work conference?

Coffee Mate [9:15am]: three guesses where I am

Kurt didn't want three guesses. He wanted answers.

Ohmigod [9:16am]: it's kind of a big city, Blaine.

He hoped Blaine didn't read that off as snarky, but playing the guessing game with a city with millions of people and attractions was not going to fly, especially when Kurt had less than an hour to process whatever madness Terri and the designers had come up with for the shoot.

Kurt waited tensely for Blaine's response, jumping a little when someone knocked harshly on his door. Terri bustled to answer it, heels clicking impatiently on the floor as she muttered something about people needing to not interrupt when everyone is trying to get ready to work. She disappeared behind the door for a moment, speaking sharply with whoever came knocking for just a moment, before turning her tone to something sickly sweet that put Kurt instantly on edge. She only adopted that voice when she had something she really needed Kurt to be on his best behavior for, usually a charity event or interview that she knew he wouldn't want to take because the reporter tended to display pop culture in a negative light. It couldn't be either of those at that moment; new requests were reserved for briefings in Kurt's apartment dressing room or in Terri's office while she got ready for yet another contract negotiation. So what was this?

Why was Kurt's morning so full of unanswered questions?

"Jake's here to say hello," Terri said as she stepped away from the door with a laugh that smacked of overcompensation. "Are you okay to see him?"

Kurt shot her a glare that could only be taken for ‘do I look like I'm not?’ wary of whatever had her trying to beam like a thousand-watt fluorescent light bulb.

"He's got a…assistant with him today who's apparently dying to meet you." Her voice was still happy, but she had turned just enough out of their line of sight to send a glare of her own, which Kurt understood as her threat to make his life more miserable than it already was if he screwed this up somehow. Kurt decided to placate her for the moment, so he plastered on his fakest smile and prepared to be the charming Cinderfella most of America took him as.

Terri shot another warning look at Sebastian.

"What? I'm not making any promises." He said, spreading his hands in helplessness.

"He's like Pavlov's dog. Littlest hint of gay on anything with a penis and he's all over it." Santana supplied, eyes never leaving the magazine she flipped through. Sebastian's light punch to her shoulder made her look up for a moment. "Don't act like it isn't true."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of." Terri muttered after she opened the door to let Jake and his assistant in. Kurt checked his phone for a message as the door clicked shut.

Coffee Mate [9:20am]: not big enough. hope you know how to improv…

That could only mean one thing.

Well, several things. But they all had to stem from the one thing: Blaine was actually in the building somewhere, and Kurt had the sneaking suspicion that the 'somewhere' was—

"Kurt!" a voice boomed across the dressing room, startling Kurt into looking up. There was Jake, dashing as ever in his best work jeans and tee, with a smaller, very familiar boy hovering just behind him looking like he was trying for all the world to not hyperventilate.

That was definitely Blaine, and Kurt was absolutely trying to not giggle excitedly at pure coincidence. He would get to spend some time with Blaine, after all…

Blaine was stuck in an emotional shit storm somewhere between 'star struck' and 'nervous wreck' as the blonde woman—Terri Del Monico, he had to keep telling himself, Kurt's manager Terri, Kurt-he-had-to-pretend-he'd-never-met-a-day-in-his-life-in-a-matter-of-seconds-Kurt —had swung open the door and snapped at them impatiently before realizing who was trying to beat down the door. She had gone all sugar and smiles then; Blaine attempted to make a mental note to ask Kurt if she was always so dual-sided when they got a moment alone.

If they got a moment alone. Blaine wouldn't be surprised if they only got to look at each other across the shoot floor all day with the way his luck had been going.

She leaned back, asking if it was okay for them to enter, and Blaine took another second to brace himself before Kurt let them in—if Kurt decided to even do that, which Blaine couldn't imagine he wouldn't.

Too quickly for Blaine's liking, the door opened wider and Terri waved them in. They entered into the largest dressing room Blaine had ever seen; it was impersonal, the cinderblock walls covered with a smattering of Prosper posters and practically melting from the heat given off by the brutally honest makeup lighting. Blaine rode Cooper's shadow like a specter, hoping to remain less visible to the people in the room, maybe to delay the inevitable.

"Kurt!" Cooper boomed as they rounded the door. He was just as enthusiastic as usual, but something about his voice seemed antiseptic in a way Blaine hadn't heard before. Almost professional. That was new; Blaine had been convinced Cooper didn't have an entirely grown-up bone in his body, degrees in photojournalism and visual arts besides. But maybe he had to be that way in front of the people who were in charge of booking his larger client's appointments or something. Given the way Terri was looking at Cooper with a calculating air, and sizing up Blaine as if to determine how useful he was going to be to her, Cooper merely putting on airs made more sense.

Blaine could just barely see the top of Kurt's head from his spot behind Cooper, but it snapped up as he began covering the distance between the entryway and Kurt's chair, moving in for whatever kind of greeting they used for each other. He felt gazes on him, resolutely trying not to freak out as Kurt's eyes flicked to him while Coop gained on him in his makeup chair. They locked gazes for half a second, enough time for Kurt to shoot him a covert little wink.

But that little wink was enough to push Blaine off the high wire that was his sanity. He struggled to school his face into a look of happy excitement while his thoughts sounded the breakdown alarm:

We need to act like we don't know each other and he's over there hugging my brother and winking at me what if somebody sees what if they figure it out oh god his backup singers are right over there and why is that blondish guy staring at me has he figured out something I bet he has that's it he knows and he's gonna tell Terri and I'm going to get arrested for stalking a star or something I hope he's happy I'm going to get a record and only because I wanted to freaking talk with him and he wanted to talk to me—

"Blaine?" a hand was in front of his face, large and pale and coming in to pat at his cheek. Blaine struggled to quiet his mind and focus on what was actually going on. Cooper was standing in front of him, blocking his view of the room and looking worried. He recognized when Blaine came back to himself, letting out a small sigh of relief when Blaine began stammering incoherently.

"Well that was new," Cooper said, patting him on the shoulder before turning back around. "I think you broke him, Kurt."

"I hope not! You've got him here to look around and see what you do, right? Don't want him to be in a corner somewhere useless…"

His voice sounded louder than it should have been if he was still in his makeup chair. Blaine couldn't guarantee what would happen if—

If Cooper moved aside and Kurt was there, hand extended to shake, exuding welcome and whatever charisma he had that drew Blaine to him in the first place.

"Nice to meet you, Blaine." he said, eyes glittering with what Blaine took to mean something like if you give us away I will make sure your life is a living hell from now on.

And Blaine would have been fine if that was all that the encounter required, just saying hello and leaving so they could snap the photos, he was sure of it. But all too late, he remembered common American courtesy when meeting someone for the first time: the handshake. He couldn't guarantee what he would do if Kurt actually reached out to touch his hand—which of course he did. Of course.

The floodgates around Blaine's mouth opened and it was all he could do to censor himself.

"Oh my god, Kurt Hummel? Well—" this actually isn't a new thing for us, is it?

"I mean—" we were going to have lunch today if you could get away from these people, isn't that funny?!

"It's just—" I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I met you…

"You changed my life—" I don't know if I've told you this, but you made me who I am, and that's why—

"I—I love you." SHIT SHIT FUCKING SHIT NO THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT please don't think I'm creepy or something, please.

Kurt was still shaking his hand slowly, working Blaine through whatever brain revolt was still to come, but was that an edge of panic in Kurt's eyes Blaine saw? He should really be quiet now; silence would be fantastic…

"Oh my god, um…I'm going to shut up now. And go crawl somewhere dark for the rest of my life…" Blaine was an unappealing shade of red under his sun-darkened complexion, he just knew it. It wouldn't be surprising if Kurt let go of his hand and decided to stop talking to the stumbling, ruddy midget in front of him for good. Blaine wasn't sure if he was willing to talk to himself after that one.

"Honey, stop." This was it, Kurt was going to ask Cooper to escort him out of the building and find another assistant who wasn't so obviously crazy for the shoot today.

But on the bright side, nobody would be able to tell they had met before if Kurt was going to stop talking to the insane one, right?

"You're cute." he laid his other hand atop Blaine's before smiling reassuringly. Blaine blinked stupidly. He was what?

"Although I always thought Jake's family would be better spoken than you." Kurt stepped back, tone acerbic as he gave Blaine an obvious once-over. "And taller. Honestly Jake, if this is what your brother is like, you can forget about introducing me to any of your sisters."

In the corner, Kurt's mousy, red-headed publicist choked on her water as Cooper said "Nah, Lei's nothing like either of us. Can't stand those 'Liberal Artists', you know. Plus she's a little old for you."

"So she'd be the normal one, then? Because a spazzy photographer and a kid with a face but no common sense can't have too much else floating around in their gene pool." Kurt asked, turning to look shrewdly at Cooper. Blaine was confused. This was a side of Kurt he hadn't seen before, although he thought he'd gotten an eyeful of it in a couple text messages.

Several things happened all at once. Terri made a move to go stand by Kurt, which was intercepted by the publicist, who looked dangerously (well, as dangerously as she could) at the backup singers who were sniggering and attempting to take pictures on their cellphones for whatever reason. In the general hubbub Kurt rapped smartly at Blaine's hip, right above the lump that was his Blackberry sitting heavy in his pocket. He gave him another look that was supposed to be significant without looking that way before letting Terri (who had dodged the publicist) pull him away by the shoulder and all but drag him to the en suite bathroom and slam the door.

"I am so sorry," spluttered the publicist. "I don't know what's gotten into him. He's usually better behaved…"

Cooper threw back his head and laughed. "He's not an animal Emma. He's a teenage boy under all that makeup and shit you people put on him. They have those days. Right, Blainers?"

Blaine dodged Cooper's shove to the shoulder and gave a glare, which Cooper deflected with a laugh. "I rest my case."

Emma looked uncertain, eyeing the bathroom door as she said "If you're sure. But Terri's probably going to want to make it up to you. Can we use your particulars to get into contact with, Blaine, was it?"

"That'd be fine," Cooper said as Blaine nodded.

"And I thought you would know better than to send some bumbling idiot in here when I'm getting ready for this dumbassed shoot!" came a screech from the bathroom.

"I think that's our clue to get out of here," Cooper said lightly, nudging Blaine toward the door. "Do I need to tell David our Star needs a couple more minutes?"

"Please." Emma said as Terri wound into her rebuttal. As quickly as her chunky heels would let her, she was off for the door, swinging it open and disappearing behind it. Cooper nodded to the singers, who waved back while he and Blaine made their exit.

The changing room's door was almost closed when Blaine heard one of the two, the pretty Latina maybe, say

"What in the hell just happened?"

His sentiments exactly.