It was hard keeping up with the shoot. Even if Blaine hadn’t been wondering about Kurt’s sudden problem, he would have had a hard time figuring out what exactly was going on. People were everywhere; triple-checking lighting against their plots, re-draping fabric across cubes for Kurt to sit on, and wheeling massive props on-set, among them the stuffed polar bear Blaine had noticed earlier and a to scale model of a Great Wooly Mammoth.

Why they decided throwing Kurt atop a bunch of arctic animals would make for good pictures completely escaped Blaine; Cooper seemed to take it in stride.

“Del Monico is insane,” he told Blaine “but she usually knows what she’s doing. So we’re gonna go with it. I’m taking pictures and you’re probably going to stand under the mammoth with the safety crew and their giant pads just in case Kurt falls off. You may even get to touch him.” he winked roguishly. Blaine wanted to smack him.

“I don’t think he’d appreciate that.” Blaine said, polishing a lens for something to do.

Cooper snorted. “Maybe not. But you’ve got to admit, watching his diva-out would be hilarious.”

Blaine didn’t say anything, but he considered smudging the lens up again in retaliation. It would not be funny if he caused Kurt to become angrier about his being there. If he was even angry at Blaine. There was the wink at first, and the tap—he didn’t think he had imagined that pressure on his hip, or the look Kurt gave before he went to have it out with Terri. And Blaine had texted that he ‘hoped Kurt could improv’. Kurt was a freaking actor. Of course he could improvise. At least, one would think so. It didn’t sound like he was doing any of that when he lit into Terri as Blaine and Cooper were leaving, though. Blaine was stuck on a fence, somewhere between thinking “Kurt has a plan” and “Kurt was jerking my leg all along and I was a sucker to fall for it.”

He wished something would clarify itself. He didn’t think his emotions could handle another upheaval so soon after the tumultuous morning.

Blaine took one last look at his phone. 10:05.

So the morning was about halfway over, and no text from Kurt to help figure out where exactly it was they stood.

Phones read well after ten thirty when Kurt finally emerged from his rooms, dressed in white head-to-toe and boasting a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, which had an almost dead quality to them. Blaine looked up long enough to see him enter the shoot floor, and then went back to quadruple-checking the cords linking Cooper’s many cameras to his laptop and external hard drive. He supposed that if Kurt was angry at him, he wouldn’t want him staring; if he wasn’t actually mad, people were supposed to think he was, and that Blaine was one of the causes. So avoiding eye contact was probably for the better.

The shoot was off at a frantic pace. Determined to make up for lost time, the shoot director (one David Martinez, Cooper had told Blaine in their down time), had his workers moving at optimum efficiency. No sooner had Cooper taken a couple of shots than the set was instantly transformed into another version of a winter wonderland.

Kurt went through a ton of costume changes. Blaine lost count after about six; he did remember some kind of futuristic thing that made Kurt look like the Tin Man—and another fifteen minute long hang-up in Kurt’s dressing room before he emerged in a  fur-covered loincloth and shawl to pose with the animals. His singers spent plenty of time snapping photos on their phones and snickering at Kurt, since they didn’t seem to be necessary. The Latina, who everyone kept calling Santana, reminded anyone who would listen—mainly a willowy blonde dancer and the girl in the band—that this shoot was a massive waste of their time. Her tune changed considerably once she and the blond guy were forced into caveman and woman costumes of their own and made to act out an attack on the Wooly Mammoth. Blaine couldn’t help but laugh to himself; that Santana was a bit of a firecracker, and the guy (she kept calling him Killer; was that his name?) knew exactly what to say to set her off, sending Emma or Terri running to separate them for all of about three seconds.

Apart from the singers, the band members and dancers took a couple of in-costume shots of their own, mainly a snowball fight in matching winter ensembles. Blaine wondered why they even got called in, if they weren’t going to be posing with Kurt.

The Fire shoot went much the same, after a group of Prosper’s people carted the Mammoth and Polar Bear away in a service elevator. Kurt dashed into his rooms, followed by a guy and girl carting makeups; Kurt came out in a completely different outfit and slightly more color on his face while Blaine, Cooper, and the rest of the shoot staff turned over the set; Kurt followed Cooper’s directions, studiously avoiding Blaine other than to give him little annoyed glances. Santana and Killer would aggravate each other or the band members until they were given some kind of costume to throw on for their mini-session.

Blaine was soothed by the repetition; Cooper had taken him to shoots that were a million times more hectic than this one before, and knowing what to expect from the work took his mind off whether or not Kurt was up to something.

Despite Kurt’s meltdown causing them to start late, the shoot ended on time. Cooper scoffed tiredly as Martinez strutted around set congratulating all the set hands.

“We may have finished on time, but getting these shots to look decent is going to be a nightmare.” He griped. Blaine looked over his shoulder as he scrolled through the pictures on his computer. He figured Coop had his work cut out for him, personally. The majority of Kurt’s shots looked perfect; between the costumes, makeup, and Kurt’s poses, there was little to edit in Blaine’s eyes. Of course, Blaine-view and professional-photographer-Jacob-Cooper-Anderson-view were probably very different.

The telltale click of stilettos behind them drew both the Anderson boys’ attention. Terri was there, looking more flustered than she had been that morning, asking abruptly to “speak with Jacob, preferably alone”, since they were going to talk deadlines for turning the prints over. Blaine took that as his blatantly obvious cue to leave, and went to the cameras to make sure everything was in place. He’d just bent over the case to resettle a lens when he heard a throat clear quietly off to his left.

It was Emma, he discovered, followed by a ridiculously blonde black woman. Blaine straightened warily, trying to figure what they wanted. An awkward moment passed where no-one knew what to say.

“Kurt’s very sorry for the way he acted this morning,” Emma finally said, catching and carefully holding Blaine’s gaze. “And he’s wondering if you’d like to join him for lunch today? I promise he’ll behave himself this time.”

Blaine was startled. This was much faster damage control than he’d expected; Emma’s asking to use Cooper’s particulars when Kurt had his meltdown made him think it would be a picture in the mail or something. But then, given the way Kurt had sassed Terri after she took him out of the dressing room proper, maybe they thought forcing Kurt to be social during his free afternoon would be a better punishment than autographing a couple pieces of cardstock—although forcing him to be social could be considered cruel and unusual by lots of standards. Not to mention the way it could backfire horribly if Kurt didn’t behave.

As he was turning Emma's proposition over in his head, it all clicked into place: Kurt did all that stuff on purpose, so he could get his lunch with Blaine. And this way, everyone who mattered would know what they were up to. So it had all been an act! The knot in Blaine’s chest dissolved as he nodded, tried to find his words.

Emma smiled encouragingly at him before handing over a pamphlet (So You’ve Just Met Kurt Hummel) and beginning to chatter about where to meet Kurt outside once they left the studio. He caught the bit about Kurt being in a disguise but having a ball cap and blue shirt, waiting for Blaine outside a restaurant near Chinatown; somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped Emma and the other lady (who he was pretty certain was Kurt’s personal assistant, Roz Washington) didn’t take offense to the fact that he wasn’t paying as much attention to them as he probably should have been. He was going to ‘meet Kurt’ all over again, with permission from his staff. At a restaurant. Where they would probably be allowed to talk as long as they wanted.

He was pretty sure this was better than any kind of scenario he could have dreamed up on his own.

Emma having finished her spiel, she and maybe-Roz went to tell Terri they were leaving for the day before exiting the studio. Terri barely glanced up from her Android to tell them goodbye, talking at Cooper about possibilities for their final markup of the program photos. Coop shot Blaine a questioning glance; Blaine flashed him the pamphlet Emma had given him and a thumbs up, which he quickly pulled down once he noticed Terri staring at the both of them. Blaine busied himself with the last of the equipment while Cooper tried to get Terri to pick a date, finally getting her to choose as Blaine fastened the last latch on the oversized case.

“What’s with the grin, little brother?” Cooper cuffed him playfully on the back of the head as he walked over, and Blaine scowled for a moment. “You look kind of like you’re trying really hard to look happy even though you’re about to wet yourself.”

“I just got invited to eat with Kurt.” He responded, handing Cooper the pamphlet. Cooper sifted through it and snorted before handing it back.

“That’s great, right? What more could a fan ask for?” He handed Blaine the smaller camera case, taking the larger wheeled one for himself.

“I mean, he was acting kind of…strange today.” Blaine replied, hoping to come across as unsure and very nervous. “Not like he seems when he’s out on red carpets and things.”

Cooper looked at Blaine as if he’d grown second head over the last thirty seconds. “You ought to know that people act differently when they’re in public—or did you grow up with a different Jacob and Carmen Anderson for parents?”

He had a point. Their parents did have very different personas when they were home and when people could see them. But Blaine hoped the comment would make Cooper think he was self-conscious about meeting Kurt again.

Blaine also hoped this thinking ahead to gage other people’s reactions would quickly become a thing of the past.

Cooper let them out the door after waving goodbye to the people left in the studio. As they walked to the elevator, he spoke again.

“It’s like I told Emma earlier; under all that fame and stuff, Kurt’s just a kid. Well,” he thought for a moment as Blaine pushed the elevator call button, “technically he’s an adult now, but he’s not all that different from you. And if you remember that, you ought to be just fine.”

So Coop didn’t have any real advice for him. At least, not any that Blaine didn’t already know for himself. He stayed quiet though, letting Cooper think he had given him something to ponder on the ride to the ground floor.

They passed through security again before Cooper spoke again.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Tiny Dancer. Just act normal and everything will turn out fine.”

“But what if I make myself look like an idiot once I get there?” That, at least, was a very real concern. Blaine was pretty sure Kurt would be on his best behavior, at least for a while, but he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t have another nervous breakdown over them being noticed by more of Kurt’s fans or something.

“Then you pretend to choke on a dumpling and get the hell out of Dodge.” Cooper took the camera bag from his brother as he chuckled at his own wit. Blaine scowled some more as they left through the revolving doors they entered through that morning.

“I’m not saying it anymore, Blainers. You’ll be fine. Kurt’s actually a great kid when Terri’s not ruffling his feathers. Go forth and get food.” And with that, he turned Blaine in the direction of the nearest subway station and gave a little push. Blaine stumbled a little before turning to see him hailing a cab.

“And don’t forget to let me know when you get to the hostel!” Cooper called when he noticed Blaine looking after him.

“Can’t do that if I’ve choked on my dim sum, can I?” Blaine asked, turning towards the subway stop. He didn’t see Cooper’s shoulders moving in quiet amusement as he headed down the street.