Blind Item of the Week

Sartorial Sydney is by no means the worst behaving guy in Hollyweird, but a waiter at a local restaurant reports Sydney is just plain rude when it comes to his treatment of underlings. Evidently our beloved clothes horse thinks that snapping to get a waiter's attention is acceptable behavior, but it seems his dining companion took exception and called him on the carpet for his ill-mannered behavior. A big tip was left, which goes a long way to sooth the wounds to the working class breast, but our guess is Sydney had better change his ways before he finds himself on the black list of every waiter in the city. — ReelToReal, September 25th, 2018.

=^..^=

Kurt had been looking forward to a day of location filming, but the day dawned with ominous clouds and by seven o'clock it was pouring down rain and the day's filming was cancelled. Faced with a suddenly open schedule Kurt pulled out his sketch book and set about finishing up some clothing designs he'd been working on for a while. He hadn't had much time to work on his own designs since moving to Hollywood and certainly no longer had the need to save money by coming up with his own pieces, but it was something he loved to do. It was almost a kind of therapy, a way for him to clear his head and remind himself about who he really was and where he came from when the glitz and artificiality of the biz became too much.

As he sketched his mind drifted to Blaine. He had learned a little about Blaine's background, but not enough to get a clear picture. He gave the impression of growing up rich; Not because of a silver spoon attitude, but because no matter how common and uninspiring his clothes might be (Kurt silently renewed his pledge to take Blaine shopping), he just oozed class and old money and Kurt could easily imagine him ordering a drink at the country club. He just had an aura of privilege about him that would probably be there even he was wearing a burlap sack.

By the time Kurt had finished his work his growling stomach reminded him that it was close to lunch time. He wandered out into the living room and found Blaine stretched out on the sofa, asleep. He must have dozed off in the middle of reading, because a book on urban escape and evasion techniques (wow, no wonder he fell asleep) lay across his chest. Kurt gave him a fond look and continued into the kitchen to pop a few ready-made meals into the oven for lunch. Because of his job Kurt found it easier to just order meals through a healthy ready-made meals program that delivered once a week. He missed cooking, but keeping fresh food in the house or finding the energy to cook after a 16 hour filming day was usually too much for him, at least for the moment.

When the food was almost done he set the table and went to get Blaine, who was still fast asleep. Kurt knelt by the side of the sofa and smiled wistfully at how innocent Blaine looked in his sleep. "Blaine…Blaine," Kurt sang out softly, "Lunchtime."

Blaine smacked his lips a few times and reached out an arm, which wrapped around Kurt's waist and pulled him closer. Kurt froze, afraid if he moved a muscle he would either dive onto Blaine like a kid chasing the candy that fell from a piñata or yank out of reach as if burned; Either one would be humiliating. Luckily Blaine rolled in the opposite direction and his arm fell away, ending Kurt's paralysis. He stood and took a shuddering breath, trying to regain his composure. How typical of him; One day of friendly bonding and Kurt was halfway to a full-blown crush. Why did he do this to himself?

He walked back to the kitchen and waited a few minutes before yelling that lunch was ready and turning on his iPod. As music filled the room Blaine awoke and he stumbled towards the dining room, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry. Your sofa is super comfortable. I don't even remember falling asleep."

"It's the rain," Kurt offered as he set the food on the table. "The sound always lulls me right to sleep."

The rhythmic pounding of the rain and the dimmed light filtering through the low, dark clouds produced an intimate atmosphere that caused them to linger long after their meals were done. Blaine asked questions about Kurt's time in New York and they talked about favorite plays and movies, surprised by how closely their tastes matched up. To Kurt's delight, Blaine even confessed to seeing him on Broadway a few months into the run of 'Defiance'. Even though it had been years ago, the thought of Blaine sitting out in the darkened theater watching him pour his heart out on the stage gave Kurt a touch of anxiety. For some reason he didn't feel as exposed when people saw him in the film version. Maybe it was because the process of filming a movie was broken up into small moments. Two lines here, five lines there, sing a verse here, dance a few steps there. While he was still proud of his performance in the movie he didn't feel the emotional attachment to it that he did the play. He hadn't left pieces of his soul on the soundstage like he had at the theater. When he met someone who'd seen the play he felt self-conscious, like they had seen him naked and at his most vulnerable. It was the curse and the joy of performing live.

Talk about 'Defiance' led to chatting about Kurt's movie career and they had a spirited debate about which movie stars, past or present, it would be best to work with. Neither were very impressed with the newest batch of actors that had hit the big time in recent years, so Kurt swooned over Judy Garland, Richard Gere ('An Office And A Gentlemen' period, please), and Ryan Gosling, while Blaine leaned more towards Gene Kelley, Cary Grant (Kurt may or may not have snorted at the irony of those choices), and Emma Stone, who had won her first Academy Award the previous year.

Around mid-afternoon the rain stopped and the clouds lifted. Suddenly stir crazy, Kurt felt the need to get outside, if even for a few minutes. He pleaded with Blaine to go for a walk ("Come on, no self-respecting stalker would be out in this weather. There's no way I would inspire such dedication.") and Blaine eventually agreed.

The air was clean and fresh and held a hint of autumn crispness, which was a rarity for that part of California. Kurt inhaled deeply and held it in as long as he could, trying to cleanse his lungs of a summer's worth of smog. There wasn't much he missed about Ohio, but having four seasons was one of them, and not just because he loved layers and sweaters and turtlenecks. Seeing familiar places redressed by the changing seasons somehow added a little spring to his step and a spark to his soul. In L.A. there was sun, a little bit of rain, and seasonal wind and that was about it.

They had been walking for a while when they rounded a corner and heard a squeal of excitement from the house they were passing. A woman stood on the doorstep holding a flower basket the size of a small car, thanking the delivery man profusely before dropping her face into the multi-colored mix of exotic blooms.

Blaine watched as the woman broke down in happy tears. "What's the most romantic thing a boyfriend's done for you?"

Kurt froze, unsure of what to say. This was so not a subject that he wanted to get into so early in their budding friendship. Finally, he decided to just be honest, no matter how humiliating it was. "I-I've never had a boyfriend." He scrambled to continue when he saw Blaine's stupefied expression. "I mean… it's not like I'm inexperienced, but… none have really been what you would call a boyfriend, you know? Just guys and…well…yeah. How about you?"

"I've had a few boyfriends. Nothing too serious. Nothing lately, though. I'm never in the same spot for long and I'm not into long distance, you know? I can't think of anything really romantic that's happened to me. Maybe that's one of the reasons why none of them lasted very long."

They took one last look at the woman, who was still standing outside, but now had her phone to her ear and was talking excitedly to someone about her gift. They headed back to the house and Kurt couldn't help but take one last peek backwards before they were out of sight. Someday that would be him. Someday.

=^..^=

A few days later Kurt's phone rang and after he mouthed "Lynn" at Blaine he went into his room to take the call. A few minutes later he returned, his face slightly pale and his mouth gaping.

Blaine sat up straighter, all his attention on Kurt. "What's wrong?"

"Umm…that was Lynn and…and…I'mgoingtobeinPeople'sSexiestManAliveissue." Kurt spoke at the speed of a tape stuck on fast forward.

"You're going to have to slow that down a bit for me."

"People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive issue. Me. In it. Not as the sexiest man, of course, but…yeah."

"What? That's amazing, Kurt!"

"Oh my god, I can't believe this. I'm so excited. I have to call my dad. No, I've got to call Rachel first or she'll kill me. What time is it?" He glanced at the clock and did the quick time zone calculation in his head. "She's at the theater getting ready for her evening performance. I'll have to wait until later. Wait no, maybe I shouldn't call. The magazine people might change their minds and I wouldn't want to tell everyone and then have it not happen."

"Why would they change their minds?"

"They'll see the pictures and notice that my face isn't symmetrical, my skin's too pale. They'll find someone better and —"

"Kurt," Blaine reached out to grab Kurt's flailing hands and held them tightly. "Where is this coming from? You're a probably soon to be award nominated actor. You're amazing and gorgeous and it's not surprising that the editors of the magazine noticed. Why can't you believe that?"

"You know that line from 'Pretty Woman?' I think it's 'The bad stuff is easier to believe?' One hundred percent true."

Blaine reached out to pull Kurt into a light hug, trying hard to keep his professional distance, but failing miserably in the face of Kurt's defenselessness. For the first time since they met, Kurt didn't tense at this touch. Ever since their breakthrough on the beach Kurt had seem more relaxed and comfortable with Blaine. It was only now, seeing Kurt open up and engage with him more, that Blaine realized just how closed off he had been before and still was with most people

"Well, I say tell anyone and everyone. Heck, shout it from the rooftops. This is incredible and you need to savor it." He felt Kurt giggling into his shoulder and pulled back a bit, dropping his arms. "What?"

"Heck? Better watch out there, Blaine, I don't know if I can take any more of your inappropriate language. What's next? Dang nabbit? Darn tootin?"

"I guess working with kids for so long has left me with a very sanitized vocabulary. I think it's part of my charm, though. Hey, did Lynn tell you what section of the issue you're going to be featured in?"

Kurt walked over to the window, suddenly fascinated with something in the garden. "The Reader's Poll section. For uh, sexiest hair and eyes."

Blaine hooted in agreement. "Well, they got that right, didn't they." Kurt cheeks flamed wildly and Blaine decided to take pity on him. "Is there going to be a new photo-shoot or are they going to use an old photo?"

"New. There's a shoot already scheduled for next week."

"I'll sync up with Lynn to get it on my schedule." Blaine paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you think I'll get a raise out of this? I mean, protecting one of the sexiest men in the world is a big responsibility and I—" Blaine broke off to dodge the pillow that sailed at his face. He flopped down on the sofa and placed the pillow behind his head casually, basking in the smile that lit up Kurt's face.

=^..^=

The ride to the photo-shoot was quiet. Kurt nearly vibrated with nervous energy, a dark denim encased leg twitching against the leather seat, his fingers tapping against the car's door handle, but he didn't have much to say. They didn't have many details on what to expect for the shoot since the photographer was in charge of the set-up and styling, but Lynn, who was riding with them, wasn't worried since People had a good reputation in the business and took their Sexiest Man issue very seriously.

When they finally pulled up to the warehouse they were greeted by the photographer's assistant and shown directly into a tiny room where the make-up artist was waiting for them. As she made Kurt up, the photographer, Kyle Absolong, explained that the first set-up was going to be in black-and-white, with Kurt dressed in a sleek designer suit. As he spoke, Kyle kept running his eyes up and down Kurt's body as if he was trying to imagine him without his clothes on. Blaine wanted to reach over and push him away, but it wasn't his place to do so; While Kyle was creepy and lecherous, he wasn't a threat to Kurt. Blaine thought about how situation wouldn't even be occurring if they had put the boyfriend story out already. Of course, that was probably one reason why Kurt wanted to hold off —having a fake boyfriend would definitely have an effect on the number of men who flirted with him (but then maybe it wouldn't, since this was Hollywood, after all).

Kurt finished up with make-up and went into the next room to change, leaving Blaine alone with the photographer and his crew. Kurt hadn't introduced them and Blaine could tell Kyle was dying to know who he was. Blaine was more than happy to deny him that knowledge. He just stood at the dressing room door, a serene expression on his face.

Before long the door opened and Kurt emerged. Though the black suit didn't quite fit him perfectly the stylist had worked her magic so that from the front it looked like it had been tailored to every inch of his body. It was only when he turned around that Blaine could see the clips and pins nipping the cloth in where needed. He flashed Kurt an innocent look as he walked by before pulling out his phone and snapping a quick picture of how comical it looked (oh boy, Kurt was going to kill him if that ever got out).

Kyle positioned Kurt in front of wall with modern art hanging on it and the shoot began. Blaine watched as Kurt gazed deeply into the camera, giving off a moody, contemplative vibe.

As the day progressed Kyle began to flirt with Kurt more and more. He had evidently decided that Blaine wasn't a threat and was going all out to try and get Kurt's attention. He stood close to Kurt between shots, nearly whispering in his ear about the changes he wanted him to make for the next series of shots. He kept approaching Kurt and trying to move him into position with his hands, but Kurt was a pro at flitting away, making small adjustments to put himself just out of reach. Blaine kept a close eye on the situation to make sure that Kurt wasn't feeling threatened, but Kurt seemed only mildly amused by Kyle's persistence and kept meeting Blaine's gaze to communicate silently ("Can you believe this guy? I have hats that flirt better than this").

The final shot in the suit had Kurt sitting in the backseat of a limo, a pair of eyeglasses dangling from one hand as he gazed soulfully out the window. Kyle took a few final shots and called for the next set-up. As Kurt rose to make a costume change Kyle lightly grabbed his arm and declared (in what he probably thought was a seductive voice) that Kurt was one of the best subjects he had ever photographed and that he would love to see Kurt again for a 'private' shoot. Kurt smiled weakly and continued to the dressing room, passing Blaine on the way. "I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit," he murmured out the side of his mouth as he passed. Blaine had to bite his lips in order to keep a straight face.

The photo crew was buzzing around and moving the lights for the next set-up, so Blaine and Lynn occupied themselves by grazing the craft services table. Blaine was just about to put together a little plate of fruit for Kurt when he saw Lynn, frozen with a strawberry lifted half-way up to her face. She was staring towards the dressing room door with an astonished look, so Blaine pivoted quickly, afraid that something was wrong. From his angle he could see Kurt, half hidden behind a rack of clothes, giving the stylist a big hug. Then he dropped his arms away and strode out the door and suddenly Blaine could see what Lynn had been looking at.

Kurt was barefoot and wearing the tightest black leggings that Blaine had ever seen, topped with a long black and white striped sweater with a wide neck that kept slipping off of one shoulder, making it obvious that he wore no undershirt beneath it. His hair was messier than Blaine had ever seen it, a tousled mass that looked like he might have just gotten out of bed (don't think about bed, Blaine) that had blue streaks scattered throughout and his eyes were lined in a dark liner that sent an electric shock right to Blaine's brain (and parts lower).

Though Blaine's brain was now off sitting in the corner sucking its thumb, it seemed that Lynn at least had recovered some of her senses.

"Kurt, I'm…speechless," she marveled, joining him on the walk to the set. "I never would have thought it, but the 'emo' look works on you. Really well."

"It's certainly…different." Kurt looked around until he found Blaine still standing back by the food table. "Blaine, what do you think?" He leaned up against the wall and struck a dramatic pose. "I suddenly feel the need to listen to some Panic! At the Disco."

Blaine must have made some sort of appropriate response because Kurt smiled at him and moved into position so that the photographer could begin taking photos again. As he posed against the wall, arms draped over a swinging bar hanging above his head, Blaine couldn't help thinking of all the other uses he and Kurt might find for that bar (mind out of the gutter, Blaine. Client. He's a client) He didn't know how much longer the shoot actually lasted, but as everyone was packing up Blaine gave silent thanks that they had been indoors where there were no strangers around, because he definitely hadn't been on top of his game.

=^..^=

Kurt had a meeting with his manager and agent the next day to go over plans for what Kurt's next role should be, so Blaine drove him in bright and early. They stopped at a local coffee shop to load up on caffeine and it only took some light begging and sad puppy dog eyes to convince Blaine that they should take a few minutes to enjoy their beverages inside instead of taking them to go.

Kurt decided he wanted to try something different that morning, so he took a minute to scan the menu sign and didn't notice when the line in front of him moved. He started when he felt hands lightly clasp his shoulders and a puff of hot air against his ear as Blaine leaned forward to murmur "You'd better move forward or this lady in back of me is going to start a fight. Now that is someone who desperately needs some caffeine."

Kurt smiled weakly and moved up in line, thoughts no longer on changing up his order. He had always had an invisible wall around him marking his personal space boundaries and most people unconsciously obeyed it, but not Blaine. Blaine seemed to be naturally touchy-feely and ever since the day they'd met he had filled Kurt's senses with casual shoulder bumps, grasped elbows, and fleeting guiding hands on the center of his back. At first Kurt had been thrown each time it had happened — nerve endings on fire, skin tingling, heart racing, and something within him telling him to flee to safety — but he had grown used to it and now was able to bask in the comfort that those touches offered. It was only when he didn't see it coming that the sensation still had the capability to overwhelm him.

He let Blaine order both of their usual drinks and settled into a table in the back corner, away from the crowd. "For some reason I always love the ambiance of a coffee shop," Kurt mused, warming his hands against the sides of his cup. "I always feel like I should be reading Chaucer or Tolstoy while tucked into one of the leather chairs."

"I always wonder where all the writers hung out before coffee shops. Were they all at bars? Is the stereotype of the tortured, alcoholic writer, being replaced by the hyper, over-caffeinated one?"

"Well, they'll certainly be more prolific, won't they? If only because they won't ever be able to sleep." Kurt glanced around the room at the tables full of people hunched over their laptops. "I imagine most of these people are screenwriters given our general local."

"Or students." Blaine added a sprinkling of sugar to his cup and stirred it briefly with a wooden stir stick. "I spent many a night at the local Starbucks when I was in school. It was a nice change of pace. Military schools are not known for their comfort."

"Starb…Blaine Anderson I absolutely forbid you to ever bring me coffee from that abomination. If I wanted to taste burnt coffee I'd just stay home and use that sorry excuse for a coffee machine that came with the house."

Blaine fumbled while trying to snap the lid back on his cup. "It-it was the only place close to school, so—"

"Any port in a storm? If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with?"

Blaine gave a slow smile. "Something like that."

They soon finished their drinks and were back on the road to Bev's office. They arrived early for their meeting and were shown into a conference room with several boxes on the table.

"Oh!" Kurt cried, running over to the first box. "Fan mail time!" He flipped the cardboard lid off and took out several stacks of letters. "The agency gets all of my fan mail and goes through it. The good stuff ends up here and I get it about twice a month. They log the return addresses and send back signed photos. The bad stuff…well, don't know, don't care what happens to it."

Kurt spent a while reading through letters of all shapes and sizes, with post marks from all over the world. From many of the letters he removed a photo, which after looking at he added to a growing pile at his side.

"What's with the photos?" Blaine asked

"In one of my first interviews I talked about the problems I had in high school and how I wouldn't let others change who I was. I mentioned that I used to take a picture of my amazing outfits every day so that I had something to go back to later, proof of how I was doing something they couldn't take away from me. After the interview I started getting a few photos from kids who'd been inspired to express themselves through their clothes more at school and were taking photos. It must be a thing now somewhere, because I get a bunch of them every week, usually with a story about the outfit or something about themselves."

Blaine picked up the pile of photos and began thumbing through them, turning some over to read the details on the back. There were pictures from gay boys who were no longer afraid to wear their over-the-top clothes to school and curvy girls who were finally ready to go out in the cute dresses and sleeveless tops they had been secretly keeping in their closets. There were self-proclaimed 'popular girls' who had stopped being so concerned with labels and were now trying to dress for themselves instead of for others. There was a boy who had finally been daring enough to wear a dress to school and a few girls who had ditched the usual teenager look in favor of more typically masculine clothes and short haircuts.

And all were giving credit to Kurt for inspiring them to have the courage to make the change.

"Wow, Kurt, this is amazing. All these kids inspired by you." Blaine fanned the photos out on the table, astonished by the number that had accumulated in only the few weeks since Kurt had last picked up his fan mail.

"Well, look at me. Who wouldn't want to be like me?" Kurt struck a pose, lifting his chin in the air and contorting his body inward like the broken stance of a Vogue model.

"Don't joke, this is something special."

Kurt dropped the pose and ran his eyes over the photos that Blaine had spread out. "I know. I…I have a board in my closet where I pin up some of the best ones. Whenever I'm feeling a little down or don't feel like I have the energy to be stylish that day I look at them and…well, they're a great cure for ennui."

At that moment the door to the conference room opened and Bev stuck her head in. "Blaine, could I speak with you for a few moments alone?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows questioningly at the request and Blaine just shrugged. He left Kurt to finish with his fan mail and followed Bev across to her office, where she beckoned him to take a seat.

"We received another letter from the 'overzealous fan.'"

Blaine sat up straighter. "Can I see it?"

Bev slid a piece of paper towards him. Seeing Blaine hesitate before touching it she rushed to reassure him. "This is just a copy. We have the original ready to be fingerprinted, if need be."

Blaine picked up the letter and scanned it quickly before reading a passage out loud. "'Who's the new guy, Kurt? I'm hurt that you didn't call me if you wanted to spend time with someone. I understand you so much better than he ever will. My heart aches to be with you…' They're talking about me, aren't they?"

Bev nodded her head slowly and pushed a photograph across the desk. "This was in the letter."

The photo had been taken at a restaurant where they'd eaten about a week before. It showed Kurt and Blaine exiting the building, Blaine's arm curved around Kurt's back protectively as he moved him towards the SUV a few feet away. The photo was grainy and badly composed, nothing like what he would expect from a paparazzi photo. He was speechless for a few seconds, but quickly regained his professional equilibrium. "You don't think this was taken by a pap, do you?"

"No, we don't. They could have gotten it online from some random fan, I guess."

"Maybe. Or it could mean that the stalker was following us."