Young Hollywood Style: Our resident celebrity stylist critiques five of today's hottest young actors

… Last, but certainly not the least fashionable, is newcomer Kurt Hummel. Word around town is that this triple threat doesn't use a stylist, but you'd never know it from the variety and quality of his high fashion looks. While his style could best be described as 'eclectic' he always stays on the right side of too much. From cutting edge knitwear to avant-guard looks from up-and-coming designers to custom suits that do all the right things for his slim body, Kurt isn't afraid to take a risk. It's been a long time since I was this excited about the fashion choices being made by a male celebrity and I can honestly say that I look forward to each and every thing he wears. He's proven that he doesn't need a stylist, but I'd still like to put this out there….Kurt, call me. I'd love to work with you. — FashionWeekly, September 16th, 2018.

=^..^=

Kurt was so busy over the next two week filming scenes for his new movie that he had reluctantly delayed their shopping trip. Thankfully the rest of Blaine's belongings had arrived and, while none of his clothes could be considered stylish, they were a little better than the pieces he had worn during his first days in town. Kurt had ordered him a few designer trousers and button-down shirts online, so that he would have something acceptable to wear when they knew they might get photographed. Those would have to wait until they had more time to figure out what Blaine's style was. The shopping would have to happen soon, though, as Kurt was sure that the stuffed nose he had been experiencing in the mornings was due to an allergy to polyester.

Blaine had accompanied him to the set, but there hadn't been a lot of time to do more than make polite small talk over coffee at the studio coffee shop. During nights at home Kurt was trying to keep Blaine at a distance, but he was definitely finding it hard given that Blaine was being all…charming. It was no secret amongst his friends that Kurt was an old fashioned romantic who liked classic movies and musicals. Blaine's demeanor was hitting all the right buttons with him and he was afraid of crossing some invisible line, so he was purposefully being even more detached than he normal would be, at least on the outside. Inside he could feel the pressure building within him as the tension over his potential stalker and his attraction to Blaine grew higher and higher every day. If they had another interaction that involved some form of 'after you. No after you' he was going to scream.

After yet another quiet evening, Blaine, who had been on his computer emailing various friends from school and keeping up with others on Facebook, pulled Kurt's attention away from the latest edition of Vogue. "You know, Kurt, you can still spend time with your friends. We can figure out some story to tell them if you don't want them to know who I am. You don't have to isolate yourself because of this mess."

Kurt jerked his hand and cursed silently as the paper sliced into the padding at the end of his index finger. He lifted the injured finger to his mouth and sucked a bit to try and sooth away the small throb of pain. "Oh, no that's OK. Most of my friends are really busy right now. Filming and stuff, you know. But thanks. I'll…I'll keep it in mind." He returned to his magazine, determine to look nonchalant.

That night Kurt crept under the covers and pulled them over his head, fighting to keep a tear from leaking from one eye. He'd been too embarrassed to tell Blaine that he didn't really have any friends in Hollywood. Just casual acquaintances and people he knew from work. It took him a while to warm up to people, to let them in enough for them to be friends and Hollywood was best known for fostering shallow, fleeting relationships. He knew it was mostly his fault that he hadn't really connected with anyone. The opportunities had been there, but he was standoffish and his bitchy tendencies could be tough to take. He'd been really lonely since he'd come to California, with only Bev, Lynn, and the rest of this team for company and since he was paying them, he could never be too sure of their true feelings for him. He missed his girls in New York and Mercedes, who normally lived in L.A, but was on a year-long concert tour as a backup singer. Hell, he even missed Finn, even though he talked to his brother a couple of times a month. He briefly wondered if Blaine could be someone who might see past his walls, to the real him.

Kurt woke up to the sound of his alarm and grumbled to himself when he realized he didn't have to go to the set that day and could have slept longer. He lay in bed for a few minutes, unsurprised to hear someone already moving about the house. Blaine was a very early riser and was always showered and dressed (still like an accountant, though at least like a well-to-do accountant on vacation now) before Kurt awoke, even on those days when Kurt had an early call time. Realizing that he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep, Kurt got up and threw on a pair of (very stylish) yoga-style pants and a loose shirt. After brushing his teeth he wandered out to the kitchen to hunt down some breakfast, only to find Blaine sitting at the kitchen table in front on an open laptop.

"Tumblr?" Kurt asked, looking over Blaine's shoulder at the computer. "I never really took you for the blogging type."

Blaine looked up at with an absent smile before turning back to the screen. "Good morning. No, I'm not a blogger. I've been monitoring Tumblr and Twitter chatter about you. Bev hired a security company to do official monitoring and analysis, but it doesn't hurt to have multiple eyes on it. Basically I'm just looking to see if I recognize any phrases or specific language that might point to one of these people being the stalker."

Kurt almost didn't hear what Blaine was saying, he was so caught up in the lushness of his eyelashes (how long would it take to count them? Would Blaine submit to sitting still that long?). Finally he realized Blaine was looking at him as if expecting a response. Kurt mentally shook himself and searched for the correct comment on what Blaine had just said. "I think I'd rather watch Fox News than see what they're saying about me on Tumblr."

"Most of it is pretty good actually. Twitter's the place you really have to watch out for. You've got some talented fans out there. Want to see?"

"Hmm…maybe some other time." Kurt walked into the kitchen and began to search through the cupboards for something to eat. "I can't decide if I'm lucky or cursed to be an actor in the age of social media. It's great to be so connected to people, but there's such a high price to be paid. Having hate delivered right to you, with no way to keep it out… It's like I'm back in high school and the school bullies are yelling slurs at me again, only this time they're yelling them so the whole world can hear."

Suddenly the topic was too much for Kurt. His skin started to feel itchy and he felt like if he didn't get out of the house immediately he might scream. He shut the cabinet door with a loud bang. "There's nothing good for breakfast. I'm going to run down to the grocery store."

Blaine nodded his agreement. "Sounds good. I need to pick up a few things too. How long do you need to change?"

Kurt ground his teeth in frustration. He didn't want Blaine to go with him. He just needed to be alone for a few minutes. "Never mind," he sulked, "I'll just eat a granola bar or something." He grabbed a bar from the box on the counter and stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him and taking great satisfaction from the swaying of the picture frame on the wall. He stopped, breathing hard, heart racing. He had to get out of there. The house was stifling and the walls were pressing in on him. He dressed quickly and silently before opening the door again and poking his head out to see if the coast was clear. He couldn't hear or see Blaine, so he tip-toed down the hallway to the backdoor and pulled it open slowly, hoping that it wouldn't creak and give him away.

He would have liked to take the car out for a long drive, but he knew opening the garage door would alert Blaine to his escape, so he settled on taking a walk instead. He made his way around to side of the house and was walking towards the front gate when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared behind him. He turned to find Blaine leaning up against the garage door, arms crossed in front on him. Kurt lurched to a stop and held his breath, waiting for the yelling to begin.

Blaine eyed him for a second then reached into his pocket for something. A second later, the garage door opened and Blaine moved to the driver's side of the car. "Get in," Blaine said calmly, flicking his head slightly in the direction of the car.

Kurt approached the vehicle warily and slid into the passenger seat, still keeping an eye on Blaine as he buckled his seatbelt. The car backed out of the garage and soon they were on the road. They passed the grocery store that Kurt shopped at, so he wasn't sure where they were going, but he decided against asking. Local streets turned into city streets and suddenly they were on the freeway. With every mile Kurt felt the tension coiled within him melt away, the repetitive noise of the tires running over the seams in the concrete soothing him and almost putting him into a trance.

Eventually they turned onto the Pacific Coast Highway and headed north towards Malibu. The clean scent of ocean air filled the car and Kurt breathed deeply, wondering how Blaine had known that this was exactly what he needed. He turned his head slightly, watching Blaine as he drove, the air from the open window pulling at his gelled hair and loosening it until a few curls popped free. The curls surprised Kurt. They seemed too free-spirited for the buttoned-down, put-together persona that Blaine put forward. Was it possible that there was more to Blaine than met the eye? Something more than duty and rules and chivalry? If so, Kurt would be very interested in knowing what.

Somewhere between Malibu and Santa Barbara Blaine pulled over to the side of the road at the edge of a deserted beach. He opened the trunk and rooted around until he found the blanket Kurt kept there for emergency situations. He gathered up the blanket and a small cooler (wow, he'd had time to prep a cooler? Kurt really wasn't very stealthy) and waited for Kurt to join him before stepping out onto the beach. They walked for a while before stopping about 30 feet or so from water. There Blaine spread out the blanket and dropped down onto it heavily before reaching over and taking off his shoes. He stretched his bare feet out into the sand and dug in, making little fists with his toes. Kurt copied him and they sat there in companionable silence for several minutes, listening to the waves crash and enjoying the secluded peace.

Finally Kurt broke the silence. "I'm sorry I tried to sneak out. I-I just…I suddenly felt like an animal caught in a trap and I had to get out or I was going to start chewing my arm off."

Blaine didn't answer right away. He pulled his knees in close to his body and wrapped his arms around them, still looking straight out at the water. "I know what's it like to feel trapped, to feel like running away is the only option, but I need you to know that I'm not the enemy, Kurt. I've sworn to protect you and that's what I'll do, that's what I want to do, but I need you to help me. Watching everyone you come in contact with is enough of a job. If I have to worry about watching you too, making sure that you're doing the things that I ask you too, then I can't protect you the way I've promised to. The way I need to. Things that may seem controlling to you —like not going anywhere without me, not answering the door yourself, or always letting me drive — those things have a purpose and I need you to trust me when I ask you to do them. This thing won't work without trust. Without it we might as well just call it off right now."

Kurt considered what Blaine had said and knew deep down in his heart that it was all true. Trust was key, but it was one of the hardest things he could ask Kurt to give. He took a deep breath and unconsciously mimicked Blaine's body position, pulling his knees in protectively. "I was the only out kid at my high school. I know I've talked in the press about how I was bullied, but I gloss over most of the details. It was rough and I learned early on that I could really only depend on myself. I had great friends, don't get me wrong, but they were all dealing with their own crap and you know teenagers, they're the definition of self-centered, so I was mostly on my own when it came to the bad stuff. I decided early on that no matter what type of harassment was thrown my way I would always be myself, never let them force me into being someone else, something less. And I was fabulous, if I do say so myself," Kurt reached up a hand and ran it lightly over his hair in a primping gesture that pulled a smile from Blaine. "But it was only on the stage that I felt truly accepted. It was everything to me and when I got rejected by NYADA I thought my dreams were gone, that I would be stuck in nowhere Ohio for the rest of my life. Eventually my dad and my best friend Rachel talked some sense into me and I went to New York on my own, determined that I was going to do everything in my power to be a success. I guess you kind of know the story after that, but sometimes I look in the mirror and I still see that kid sitting on his bed reading a rejection letter, watching all of his dreams crumble around him."

Kurt finally fell silent, feeling as if a weight had lifted off of him. It wasn't much, but it was probably the most he had bared his soul to anyone in…forever.

"High school was rough for me too," Blaine murmured above the sounds of the wind and seagulls. "I didn't have the best family life. My parents were…distant… even before I came out. They're just the kind of people who should never have been parents, you know?" He ignored the sound of sympathy that Kurt was unable to control. "My brother was 10 years older than me, so he was gone by the time I was eight and it was just me after that. I wanted school to be a refuge, a place where I could be myself and have something to look forward to — 'cause I certainly wasn't getting that at home — but I was picked on pretty badly after I came out and it got…bad, so I had to leave. There was a private school — Dalton in Westerville — that I wanted to go to—" he broke off when Kurt made a small noise. "Do you know it?"

"I snuck in there once to spy on their glee club before our Sectionals competition. I didn't talk to anyone, but it seemed like a good school."

"Yeah, I thought so to, but my dad thought I needed some 'toughening up', so he sent me to military school in Pennsylvania instead. It was tough at first. The school wasn't actually part of the military, of course, but they went by a lot of the same rules, so I was forced back into the closet at first. Thankfully, 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' was repealed during my junior year and when a few other students came out I got up the nerve to join them and things got better after that. I had some anger issues, so I took up boxing, fencing, martial arts — anything to try and get control of myself. I made some friends and…yeah. Things were good, but I never really got too comfortable, you know? I always seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop."

They watched the ebb and flow of the water for a while, both caught up in old memories. A family with two kids and a dog stopped at the beach for a few minutes and Kurt watched as the little boys ran in and out of the water, singing a round of 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat.'"

Blaine smiled at their antics. "Are you going to keep singing? I mean, now that your dreams have come true what're you going to do next?"

"I don't know. Musicals are really where my heart is, but I don't want to only be known for that. I don't know, maybe Shakespeare? Something no one would expect to see me in. And hey let's be honest, if I don't play President Kennedy at least once in my career it'll be a crime. I mean, look at this hair line."

"True, true." Blaine agreed with mock solemnity.

"I'm open for almost anything, I think, as long as it's good. I've seen too many washed up actors trying to regain their glory days through reality TV. I need to really make a career out of this." He paused for a moment. "No horror, though."

"Why—"

Kurt cut Blaine off with a chop of his hand. "I have a slight vampire phobia."

"But didn't I see one of the 'Twilight' films in your DVD collection?"

"I have a vampire phobia, not a sparkling brooder phobia. Besides, I only have that movie because of Taylor Lautner. I had it on my bucket list to sleep with him before he got fat."

"Oh. I'm guessing you didn't get to that one in time?"

"Nope, but hey maybe he'll become a Weight Watchers spokesperson and I'll get another shot."

"I'll think good thoughts for you," Blaine laughed and crossed his fingers.

Kurt laughed along too for a minute before turning and pulling his legs in pretzel-style. "Blaine… trust doesn't exactly come easy for me, but I promise that I'll try my best to make this work. And I know you're just trying to protect me, so I'll do whatever you say. Within reason, of course. I mean, I'm not going to wear a Kevlar vest around or anything like that. It would simply ruin the lines of my clothes."

"How about we both give this our all and just be as honest with each other as we can? Deal?" Blaine extended his hand.

"Deal." Kurt put his hand into Blaine's and they shook on it. And if one or both of their hands lingered a bit longer than social accepted for a handshake, well neither one of them commented on it.

The water grew closer as the tide came in and they finally had to either move or risk being drenched by the next set of waves. Blaine rose and held out a hand to help Kurt up before shaking the blanket and folding it over his arm. They walked back to the car silently, though this silence was a comfortable one earned by the cracking open of the doors that each man held his private pain behind. They reached the shoulder of the road and Kurt automatically moved to the driver's side. Blaine gave him a speaking look and with a dramatic put upon sigh Kurt went around to the passenger's side (oh well, Rome wasn't built in a day).

Just before he slid into the car Kurt pulled out his phone and took a photo of the rolling waves. He uploaded the image and sent a quick Tweet.

Nothing better than a beautiful fall day, the sea air, and a new friend.

=^..^=

That night they decide to go out to dinner. Kurt suggested a trendy place on the water that wasn't really his normal style, but had been recommended to him by several people.

As they were shown to their seats Blaine noticed a few people looking at them with puzzled looks, as if trying to place where they knew Kurt from. As they passed one table Blaine could hear one of the women stage whisper to her friends "Is that someone famous? He looks familiar. Where do I know him from?"

They ordered their food and talked a little about their common experiences growing up in Ohio, but Blaine was only giving the conversation part of his attention. He was too aware of the whispers that had followed them when they walked in and the looks they continued to receive. Their food arrived and Kurt was just about to take his first bite when a woman approached the table and asked for an autograph. Blaine watched carefully as Kurt signed and listened as she told him how much she had loved his movie. She left clutching her signed napkin and Kurt picked up his fork to again try for his first bite of food.

"So, military school, huh? I wouldn't have guessed that one." Kurt said after wiping his mouth on his napkin.

"No?"

"Don't take this wrong, but I'd say you're much more 'Leave It to Beaver' guest star than drill instructor."

Blaine snickered into this napkin. "I definitely was never going to be a drill instructor and any military starch that was left after my time in college was driven away as soon as I started working with kids."

Kurt pressed for details and Blaine talked for a while about how different it was to protect children. After they finished their meals they each ordered a coffee and lingered, watching two sea gulls fight over a piece of bread on the sand below. Kurt dipped a spoon into his mocha and gave a little laugh. "I think the sound of waves is always going to remind me of you now. That and the smell of hair gel."

"Ha ha. Anyone who uses so much mousse and hairspray is in no position to judge. So, that woman earlier… Does that happen a lot? Getting asked for autographs?"

"Not too often. I don't think most people know who I am yet. This is kind of a celebrity hotspot though, so I think people are on the lookout here." Kurt took a sip of his drink and propped an elbow on the table, settling his chin onto his hand. "It's one of the things I can't get used to about Hollywood. I don't think anything can prepare you for the whispers that follow when people recognize you. I don't mind it so much when people actually come up to me and say something. It's flattering and I'm embarrassed to say I like the attention most of the time, but I hate it when people see me and just start whispering. It brings back bad memories, I think. Then, of course, there's the other kind of whispering you get a lot of around here— people in the industry gossiping in back corners, passing insider knowledge and out-and-out lies, eager to be seen as 'in the know'. Sometimes I think this whole town runs on whispers. OK, this is depressing. I need some cake or something."

He looked around for the waiter and snapped his fingers to get his attention. The waiter came over with an overly-polite smile that had Blaine doubting the spit-free nature of the dessert Kurt was about to be served. As the waiter left to fill the order Blaine decided there was no time like the present to address the situation. "Um, Kurt? Can I talk to you for a minute about that?"

"About what?" Kurt cocked his head questioningly to one side.

"The finger snapping? It's just…a little rude? I know you're a star now and everything, but do you think it's gone to your head a little?"

A look of embarrassment covered Kurt's face. "I-I'm ashamed to admit that that particular bad habit actually pre-dates Hollywood by several years. It's horrible isn't it? I'm horrible. I'll try to stop, I promise."

"It's OK, it's just… you might not want to eat that cake you just ordered."