For the rest of the day Kurt's head was everywhere but where it was meant to be. Whilst he was messing up routine orders and nodding his way through entire conversations his mind was going over every part of New York he'd ever been to or seen pictures of, trying to work out where on Earth he'd seen that wishing well before. He knew that he'd seen it somewhere and the image was taunting him every time he pulled it out of his pocket for another pointless look.

He thought of asking Rachel but he knew she would only make a big deal out of him trying to find a wishing well to prove to a stranger that he was cool and it wasn't a big deal really, it had just taken over his entire existence and rendered him unable to think of anything else. No, it really was not a big deal. He took to pouring over guidebooks and maps filled with the usual tourist traps in his breaks and lunchtime. He knew he wouldn't find it in there, it just didn't feel right to him but he was clutching at straws now.  He wanted to find it today; he was scared that Blaine wouldn't think he was worth the time of day if he took longer than 24 hours to find it.

By the end of the day he was downhearted and had almost given up on the mysterious Blaine who made bad puns on allusive photographs and who had the cutest squiggle on his "S" that Kurt had ever seen.

He left at the end of his shift with a waggle of his fingers to Rachel who would catch him at the apartment later and a slightly drizzling raincloud hanging over his head. He'd long since given up on catching a cab so he made his way to the bicycle rack in front of the shop and unchained his bike. He pedalled through the neighbourhood slowly and deliberately looking each way twice just in case he missed the wishing well he knew he'd seen before.

He made it to his apartment building without seeing the wishing well and pushed his bike up the steep staircase sighing at the fact that the elevator hadn't worked in a long time, longer than he and Rachel had lived there at least. He picked up the junk mail strewn on the floor outside of their apartment and flicked through it with one hand as he unlocked the heavy door and flicked on a couple of light switches once he got in. He and Rachel had managed to make this feel like home, a cosmopolitan arty New York home, but a home all the same.

Kurt sighed and made his way into the kitchen. He knew that Rachel was having company over later and it would be considered good roommate behaviour if he were to be elsewhere just in case so he decided to do the little laundry and housework he had to do now while he had time to waste. He got out the vacuum cleaner and pushed it listlessly back and forth across the apartment floor. He then separated his laundry and put them into two separate bags to take to the Laundromat at the end of the street later on. 

He found that he now had nothing to do so he decided that he might as well make those cookies for Rachel seeing as she had begged him to make them. He didn't blame her for grovelling though; those cookies were heaven on Earth. He whipped up a batch in record time and set the timer to go off when they should be perfect. He went in to his room to change from his flour dusted clothes into something a little more fresh. He figured that five minutes nap time couldn't hurt him so he flopped down on his far too comfortable for his own good bed with his eyes shut. He was always so tired these days. He figured it was a combination of balancing his classes and job and coping with Rachel's impromptu vocal warm-ups at half three in the morning.

He groaned and rolled over onto his side and opened his eyes. And there he saw it. On his wall nestled amongst a bunch of stuff Mercedes had sent him and postcards that he had picked up from rival coffee shops and businesses in the area was a postcard. Of the exact same wishing well as was in Blaine's photograph.