Genius.

"Then, the sound of a crying baby, just that. Shrieks, maybe, ragged breaths. A nurse, cooing and praising at him as she carried him to the baths. Back to the woman; Adrienne. No sound, just her breaths, she breathes in, then out, slow, intense. Passionate, she just gave birth."

He stops to take a breath, and closes his eyes against the fading image of his masterpiece.

"Bring back the child--Blaine. Blaine, Blaine Anderson--close in on his face, eyes wide and bright, use eye drops if you need to. Mother laughs, smiles, closes her eyes as it--Blaine--relaxes against her side. Music, soft, sweet, violins and a piano, maybe, or a guitar strum. Something wonderful, something beautiful. Fade back, to the black sandpaper."

He finally opens his eyes, as if he'd forgotten he was in the middle of an interview rather than dreaming. They're bright and smiling. "New date, this time on the corner of the screen. August 15, 1995. Fades into an ancient camera format, a shaky hand attempting to film while laughing. Blaine bathing. He splashes against the water, a dinosaur on his hand, and sinks down the water of the tub over and over and over."

The image becomes blurry as Kurt fast forwards through the interview, the image of a bald, bespectacled man still visible through the disruption. When he presses play, the image shows the same man, minus the glasses, and he wears expensive clothes, much unlike the shabby ones in the previous montage. Kurt can almost smell triumph and success through the television, so strong is the aura that emits from his persona.

A woman is asking him question after question in this one, many of them stolen right out of Kurt's head.

"When did you decide you wanted to make him gay?" She asks, voice heavy.

"It wasn't a decision I made, nor one I was expecting. His love interest was cast and ready to go, a tomboy we'd planned on making his best friend and high school sweetheart." Reed Murray answers, leaning back against his chair in a relaxed stance. "He just turned out that way, and as my son--that's what Blaine's become, really, a son--I knew there was no way I'd ever try to interfere."

Kurt wants to laugh to keep from bursting into angry tears. Instead, he settles for an almost painful smile, and watches on.

"Did you know that decision would cause such an impact, worldwide?"

"No. Not thirteen years ago, nor today would I have expected the impact this whole thing caused." The almost evil glint in his eyes betray his words, though, Kurt can see it as clearly as the sun. "Either way, I'm glad it caused the impact it did, a positive impact. People like getting used to things before accepting them. I'm glad I can contribute to a slightly better world."

Kurt scoffs at that before he even realizes the hypocrisy of the statement, and is about to kick the thing shut before the next question catches him.

"Do you plan on telling Blaine about it?"

Reed cocks his head to the side, confused. "About what?"

"About his life. His real life. About the show, about how approximately 4 billion watch him daily, morning to night." Kurt can't tell if that is disdain or disguised admiration laced into the woman's voice.

He watches, entranced, as Reed Murray considers the question, can basically see it being turned from side to side inside his head. He holds his breath when the man looks up, straight into the camera, and smiles somewhat sadly.

"Some things aren't meant to be told." He says with a finality that makes Kurt flinch.

Kurt stares at the screen for a few minutes, just stares at it, as if somehow the intensity of his eyes could change Reed Murray's mind.

Six years later, when Kurt is twenty and Blaine is nineteen, it still hasn't.