“Kurt!” he heard a muffled yell through the closed door.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Kurt mumbled as he carefully smoothed the remaining locks of his hazel hair into place.

“Kurt!” a second shout came louder this time.

“I said I’m coming!” he called, annoyed.  Kurt swung open his door and strode out through the picture-lined halls to the kitchen, where he saw his roommate, Quinn, tapping her heeled foot impatiently against the dark cherry floor.

“Everyone knows how much you love staring at yourself in the mirror, but we should have left fifteen minutes ago.  I swear to God, if we’re late to her debut and she flips a shit like you know she will, I’m using you as a human shield,” Quinn said, pointedly, as she ushered him out the door, locking it behind her.

“We’re not gonna be late! Jeez, Q, calm your tits,”

“Ugh, really? Rachel has you saying that now? Only people with tits are allowed to say that to people with tits! Even if you’re gayer than a three dollar bill, honey.”

“Oh, come on. I can’t count the times you’ve told me to suck your dick,” Kurt retorted teasingly as they stepped down the stairs of their apartment building to the streets of the Lower East Side.

 Quinn hailed a taxi and told the driver determinedly, “I will show you one of my boobs if you can get us to the Gershwin Theatre in less than ten minutes.”

The bearded cab driver gawked at her for a moment before shaking his head awkwardly saying in a thick southern accent, “Uh-um-I-it’s okay, darlin’. But I’ll make it fast anyhow.”

Kurt rolled his eyes as Quinn slid back into her seat, wavy blond bob bouncing on her shoulders.

“Only one? Gee, good to know flashing both is beneath you,” he scoffed.

“You’re definitely spending too much time with Rachel. Let loose a little would you? We’re not in Lima anymore, Kurt,” Quinn cited.

Kurt simply sighed and stared out the window at the bustling streets of Manhattan slowly passing by.  No, they definitely weren’t in Lima. Far from it.  He’d left so much behind for it to be that way.  Friends. Family. A boyfriend. Sometimes Kurt missed it all. Especially now.  But when he was up on that stage belting his heart out; when he could look out into those rows of blue seats crowded with people to see him perform, to see him sing, applauding him, he knew it was all worth it.  To think that the three of them, born in a small town with hardly a chance of ever getting out, had made it: Rachel and Kurt starring on Broadway, Quinn studying to become a doctor. Sometimes he had to just stop and take a second to realize how far they’d come.

The car suddenly sped up and immediately came to a stop, causing Quinn to slam her head on the back of the passenger’s seat with a yelp.

“Gershwin theatre,” said the cab driver, turning to see Quinn staring angrily with one hand over her right eye. Kurt dug some cash out of his wallet and threw in a couple of bucks for a tip while simultaneously shoving Quinn out the door and onto the street. 

“Ok, the show starts in 5 minutes. Gimme the tickets, we need to hurry,” Kurt said demandingly to Quinn, who still had her hand covering part of her face.  She obliged, but in a painstakingly slow manner, simply because she was annoyed and felt like being spiteful. Kurt rolled his eyes again and tapped his polished shoe on the sidewalk. As Quinn slowly took her hand out of her purse, holding the two tickets, he snatched them away and marched over to the ticket booth.

Once inside, Kurt dragged Quinn by the arm, scrambling to get to their seats before the lights went down.  They had barely sat down when the packed theater went dark, the low hum of conversation silenced, and the overture began to play.  Bright spotlights shone on center-stage, where Rachel stood in costume.

“Eeeeee!” Quinn squealed as quietly as possible into Kurt’s ear.

“Oh my god, she looks amazing!” Kurt whispered back. “Remind me to tell her that red is totally her color.”

“Aah! Oh, shh, she’s about to start singing!”

-----------------------------

As Rachel belted out the final note of the musical and the curtains fell in front of her, the entire audience rose to their feet, sending applause and supportive shout her way, most of which coming from her screaming roommates. 

When most of the applause had died down, Kurt and Quinn pushed their way through the crowd to the backstage door.  Quinn retrieved their passes from her purse and they were let in just in time to see Rachel running their way and jumping on top of them.

“Woah, Rachel! Good to see you too!” Kurt said.

“You were stunning, Rach!! That has got to be the best performance I’ve ever seen!” Quinn exclaimed. 

“But, I do suppose we’re a little biased,” replied Kurt.  “I mean, it’s not every day you get to see your best friend rocking a lead role in the revival of West Side Story on Broadway!”

“So you really liked it!?” asked Rachel excitedly.

“Simply outstanding.  Now, it does help that your Tony was a total babe,” Kurt added.

“Ugh, I know, right!? Too bad he plays for the other team, or I would be all over that…” Rachel responded. 

“Wait… he’s gay!?” Kurt said almost too excitedly.

“Oh, Kurt, you should so hit that,” Quinn stressed.

“I don’t even know what kind of guy he is.  What do you know about him, Rach?”

“Well, his name is Blaine Anderson and he’s obviously sex on a stick and sings like a dream, but other than the fact that he’s generally pretty friendly, not much,” Rachel said.

“How do you not know anything about him? He’s your leading man. You’ve been working together for months!” Quinn said.

“I just don’t! It’s weird.  He’s sort of mysterious and private.  He doesn’t ever stay for cast dinners or parties and he’s never really told us anything about himself.  I mean, and I will admit this, when I first met him, I was totally hitting on him. But when I asked him out, he just laughed and said, ‘Sorry honey, not my type, if you know what I mean.’ It was humiliating.”

“Ok, ok, be quiet. Here he comes,” Kurt said in a hushed voice.

Blaine walked up to the group, still in costume, holding a single rose. 

“For m’lady,” he said with a smile as he bowed slightly and handed Rachel the flower.  They hugged and she turned to introduce him.

“Blaine, these are my best-friends-slash-room-mates Kurt and Quinn. Kurt and Quinn, this is Blaine.”

“Hi, nice to—“ Quinn was interrupted by Kurt.

“It’s so great to meet you! Your performance tonight was absolutely amazing.  Best Tony I’ve ever seen!”

“I’m flattered. Rachel has actually told me a lot about you.  And from what I’ve heard, you’re not too bad on the stage yourself!” Blaine returned coyly.

“Oh! Well, I wouldn’t say that…”

“Come on, he’s just being humble.  He’s an incredible singer,” Quinn cut in. 

“I’ll definitely have to hear you perform sometime,” Blaine said to Kurt with a subtle wink, causing his heart to skip a few beats.  “Well, I really ought to be going.  Rachel, I guess I’ll see you again tomorrow.  Kurt, Quinn, it was an honor meeting you.  I look forward to talking to you again sometime,” sending a dazzling smile to the three of them, he turned and walked away. 

“…Damn,” Kurt remarked. “Do you think you could give me his number, Rach?”

“I don’t really know if he’s available or anything, but sure!”

Kurt sighed dreamily and said, “We will just have to see about that, won’t we?”

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