"Come on, Kurt, you promised we would go out having dinner tonight."
Matt almost sounds a bit whiny and Kurt has to refrain from rolling his eyes.
"And what are you doing when we don't? Are you going to stomp your foot and scream 'but I want to'?" he asks, half exasperated, half annoyed. But he regrets it as soon as he looks at Matt. "I'm sorry, Matt, but -"
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. You're stressed out, the tour and everything. Blah blah."
Kurt looks into the mirror and sees Matt sitting on the bed behind him, tying his shoe laces. He looks back at himself and finishes tying his tie. He takes a step back and looks at his reflection. He straightens his tie's knot a bit so it is exactly in the middle and then nods at himself contentedly.
"You know, Matt," he turns to his boyfriend, or significant other, or whatever you call it when you have been together for six months now, "we have been on tour for a good seven months. Together with the rehearsals, appointments with the press, the performances and being on the road constantly I barely have time to unwind."
Matt gets up from the bed and walks over to Kurt. He kisses him on the mouth and puts his hands on Kurt's hips. "Do you think it's different for me? Okay, I'm only your understudy and most of the time I'm just a part of the ensemble. But that doesn't mean that I don't need some time to relax." He puts his forehead to Kurt's. "And that's exactly why we want to go out for dinner. So we actually can relax."
Kurt nods. "You're right. I'm sorry."
Matt laughs silently. "You don't need to be sorry." He pulls Kurt towards the door and grabs both of their coats. If there is one thing they learnt during the two weeks they have spent in Los Angeles, it is that it doesn't matter how wonderfully warm it is during the day. As soon as it gets dark it gets cold, too, and you better have something warm to wear with you.

When they arrive at the restaurant – it's a recommendation from Mercedes who lived in Los Angeles for two years – they leave their Zipcar with the valet parking.
They enter the restaurant and Kurt has to admit that Mercedes got more confidence in her style over the years. And if it's only her choice of perfect locations.
The restaurant is big, with dark wooden furniture and dark red curtains. The cream colored table cloths are wonderful accents and the candles' lights harmonize beautifully with the dimmed light. At the other side of the big room, on some sort of small stage, is a piano. Right now, no one is sitting at it, but there are not many patrons at the restaurant, either. Kurt guesses that someone is going to play for the guests as soon as it is later at night.
"Welcome to the Adagio, my name is Melissa. How are you?" The young waitress smiles at them and shows two rows of pearly white teeth.
"Great, thanks. How are you?", Matt smiles back while Kurt looks around.
"I'm fine, thanks. How can I help you?"
"We would like to have a table for two."
"Of course." She still smiles and for a short moment Kurt thinks her smile is a bit disturbing. "Would you like to be seated close to a window, or do you prefer a table farther at the back?"
"Kurt?" Matt looks at him, as well as the waitress.
"Huh? Uhm, how about the back? It's a bit more quite there?"
"Of course," Melissa says again and walks ahead of them to a table close to the piano. "How about this one? Our pianist starts playing in half an hour, so -"
"Thank you, this table is perfect," Kurt interrupts her. Although he is on stage almost every night singing, he just can't get enough of music.

"Welcome to the Adagio," chimes a voice next to them only a few minutes after Matt and Kurt sat down at the table. "My name's Patrick and I'm your waiter tonight."
Kurt looks up and takes a good look at the young man who's standing close to their table. He's young, probably a college student and he looks really, really good. A dark tan, hair bleached by the sun and you can see his muscles underneath his white shirt. Kurt guesses that he goes surfing in his free time between college and job.
He hands them the menu and gives Matt a huge smile. Of course Matt, not Kurt. Most people notice Matt first, why he wasn't first choice for the lead role, but Kurt was, is still a bit beyond Kurt. Matt is tall, almost six feet three inches, with broad shoulders, bright blue eyes and blonde hair that falls slightly into his face tonight.
"May I take your drink order?"
Kurt glances at the drink-section of the menu. Unlike Matt, he has to attend dance- and sing-rehearsals tomorrow and in the evening he has a performance. So no alcohol for him tonight. "I have a -" he skims the part with the non-alcoholic drinks, "a tall sparkling water, with only a bit of ice, please."
"Of course. And for you?" Patrick looks at Matt again with this almost hungry look in his eyes. Finally Kurt knows what Patrick reminds him of: a hungry animal that has its prey just in front of it.

Matt and Kurt talk to each other quietly. About the newest gossip in their musical-group with which they tour. About the weather here in Southern California. About what they are going to do on their next day off together.
Just as they discuss the possibility of going to Santa Monica - "The Third Street Promenade is said to have really great stores, Kurt! And it's not too far away from the pier. You know, we could go to Pacific Park and go on a ride on the Ferris wheel." - their appetizer arrives.
At the same time a young man steps onto the stage next to their table, sits down at the piano and starts playing a classical piece which Kurt can't place at this moment.
In the middle of their table is a huge plate with bruschetta, vitello tonnato, and prosciutto with melon. Kurt takes one of the bruschetta, looks up to the piano and lets the piece of bread drop in horror.
Playing the piano, barely sixteen feet away, is Blaine, completely lost in the music. He looks good in his cream colored dress shirt with his dark red bow tie, almost a bit as if he was part of the interior. His hair is still curly, but he wears it without gel now, and Kurt thinks it looks far better.
After a year and a half, take or give a month, he sees Blaine again. Blaine, whom he thought he would never see again. Blaine, about whom he thought had left him to start a new life in Los Angeles and now he meets him here again. In a city with roughly four million inhabitants, not to count the eight million people living in Los Angeles County. Los Angeles, the city that almost caused him to quit his job with the musical group, just because hearing the name caused so much pain Kurt only has when thinking about his mom.
Kurt shakes his head and then looks to Matt.
"I said your name three times. What's wrong?"
"It's ..." Kurt reaches for his water. Only now he realizes that he's shaking. And suddenly it's hard for him to breathe and to be honest, he would like to stand up, throw his napkin on the table and leave. Back to New York, to the other side of the country, far, far away from here. But instead he takes a sip from his water and the clinking of the ice inside the glass calms him a bit somehow. "Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay?"
Matt looks at him for a moment. In the seven months he has known Kurt Hummel, he learnt to just take some things as they are and give his boyfriend the time he needs. "That's alright." Matt smiles tentatively. "Try the melon, it's really good." He takes a forkful of melon with ham and offers it Kurt. And although Kurt suddenly isn't hungry anymore, he tries it.
The main course, spaghetti all’amatriciana, tastes somehow stale, too, although it smells and looks wonderfully. But he knows that it's not the fault of the cook, that it simply can't be the cook's fault. It's his fault. To be honest, it's more likely the fault of the young guy he refuses to look at, because he's bound to scream at him where the fucking hell he had been the past year and a half.

And then, when it's almost ten o'clock, they finally – finally! - ask for the bill. Matt pays without talking about it with Kurt first. Leah, Kurt's partner on stage, calls it one of their "weird relationship rules", because during the first weeks of them dating Matt and Kurt agreed on taking turns when it comes to paying the bills.
"Everything was fine?" Patrick asks when he puts away his generous tip and looks at Matt with his most flashing smile.
"Yes, thank you," says Kurt. "But I have one question."
"Of course." Now Patrick looks at Kurt.
"The … young man, who's sitting at the piano ..." Patrick looks over Kurt's shoulder to Blaine. "What's his name?"
The waiter looks back at Kurt again, raises one eyebrow and grins. "That's Jake."
Jake it is, then. Not Blaine. But it is Blaine. Kurt's so sure of it as of the fact that he's gay. "Thanks."
Patrick nods and leaves, but not without shooting Matt one last look.

They leave the restaurant, Matt gives the guys at the valet parking their chip and puts his arm around Kurt while they wait for their car. But Kurt just wants to go back to their hotel room, crawl into bed and not leave it for the next few years.