It was midnight, and a sleep-deprived, 17 year old, gay male, dressed in a bowtie, tourist from Ohio was trying to figure out not only where he was, but how in the world he was going to get back to where he needed to be. He stood on the platform, figuring out what which direction he should go. In every other city in the world, “downtown” just meant the middle of the city. Here, it really meant DOWN! And then there was Brooklyn bound and Queens bound, and he still had no idea what that meant. He was so glad he had an iPhone…but then he realized that once he was underground, there was no service. This was 2012, why wasn’t there wifi on the trains? Blaine realized rather quickly that trying to navigate the subway map without the guidance of an experienced New Yorker was not the smartest idea he’d ever had. But then again, his brain was definitely not firing on all cylinders.

More and more people kept flooding into his space. All the little concert venues and bars in the area must have just finished their last shows. People were talking far too loud about things that Blaine could seriously care less about. Everything was just so LOUD! He wondered if this is what it felt like to be hung over. “Am I love drunk? That’s a thing, right?” He thought to himself.

Once he had successfully boarded the train, then transferred from the 1, it wasn’t quite as busy. He was able to sit and just think a little. “Is he a NYADA student? Duh, that’s a stupid question, of course he is. Everyone there tonight was a NYADA student!” Blaine thought about the fact that he might get to be in class with him, sing duets with him, act out scenes with him, and maybe dance with him. With the slight rocking of the train, Blaine’s eyes began to close, and his mind began to wonder. His overactive imagination paired with lack of sleep got the best of him as his mind went directly to Kurt clad in a skin tight leotard, bending over in a compromising position near a ballet bar.

“Doors closing….”

“OH SHIT!” Blaine yelled, jumping up, and running out the doors as quickly as possible, realizing he was about to miss his stop. Sleeping next to homeless guy #2 as the train circled back and forth was not his idea of a fun night.

Blaine keyed in the code and gave his name to the night watchman who gave him an extra key to Brody’s room. Each step Blaine climbed toward Brody’s 3rd floor room felt like torture. He could barely keep his eyes open, more less move his feet. But that had been a problem all night, keeping his damn eyes open. “Was he really looking at me? He probably thought I was ridiculous. I was singing Katy Perry, for Christ’s sake. No wonder his jaw was hanging down…he was in shock!” Blaine tried to rationalize every reason why a guy as attractive as Kurt could have possible been looking at him.

When he looked in the mirror, Blaine saw this short, skinny kid. He had a curly fro that went absolutely everywhere. Praise the Lord for hair gel! His eyebrows did this sort of weird triangle thing and changed shapes depending on what mood he was in. His nose was a little too big for his face. His shoulders were huge in comparison to his waist, and his hands and feet were abnormally large to be on such a tiny person. He was a friggin’ hobbit.

“He probably thinks I’m some unfashionable, middle-America, wanna be that’s trying way too hard. And I bet he isn’t even gay. I mean, people are fashionable in New York without wanting the D. I bet I totally freaked him out. What kinda freak just stares at somebody like that!” Blaine realized he might have set himself up to have some terribly awkward interactions should he and Kurt actually be in class together.

After 2 attempts with the key that clearly hasn’t been used, he was able to get the door open, and let himself in. He quickly changed into his pajama and laid back the futon into a bed. He grabbed the blankets and pillow, and curled up in on himself.

It had been an overwhelming day. He knew New York would be amazing, but he had no clue that his head would be spinning even on the first night in the city. If this was what being a New Yorker was about, he was totally ready. This was the life he always wanted. Going out with cool people to hip places, getting to wear the clothes he wanted rather than a blazer and tie, getting to sing his favorite songs, and maybe even getting ogled by a guy…though he was still nervous that it was more like gawking.

Just as he was dozing off to sleep, he heard the door squeaking as someone was turning the key. He also heard the faint sounds of Brody singing. He had a real nice tone, but of course he did. He was a top notch NYADA student.

As he continued to listen to the little hum coming from Brody, Blaine couldn’t get Kurt off of his brain. “Wait, if that guy is a NYADA student, then he must be an amazing singer too! I mean, he got into NYADA, right?! Only the best get in!” He couldn’t stop thinking about what Kurt might sound like. Was he a broadway belter like Jeremy Jordan? Did he have a strong character voice like Andrew Rannells? Maybe he even had that sexy crooner sound of Steve Kazee, or that rock-god sound of Adam Pascal.

Blaine began to think of all the songs he wished that Blaine could sing to him. He’d always wanted to be serenaded by a hot boy. He used to watch all those cheesy 80’s teen movies with his brother. Cooper swore that no one was a better actor than Matthew Broderick in “Ferris Bueller.” He’d say, “Blaine, that’s how people know you are serious. You stare directly into the camera.” But all that time watching the Brat Pack only made Blaine want someone to stand outside his window holding a boom box, or sweep him off his feet and ride off into the sunset on a lawnmower.

Eventually, all his musings turned into to dreams. And Blaine’s dreams were full of nothing but a tall, sexy man, with the piercing blue eyes.