Kurt was walking through the halls of McKinley. Hearing a sound behind him, Kurt glanced behind him, and suddenly his back slammed into a locker. Looking up, Kurt saw David Karofsky's smirk that had been carved into his mind's eye. His knees buckled as he cried out at the pain and slid to the floor, the sound of flesh hitting metal still ringing in his ears. Suddenly, he was back to where he started, walking the halls, when the scene repeated. Kurt tried to wake up, but found he was unable to. Kurt was stuck, replaying the scene. How many times the scene replayed was anyone's guess. Just when Kurt couldn't take it anymore and Karofsky was yet again about to slam Kurt against the locker, someone pulled Karofsky away and knocked him out. Kurt looked to see who his savior was, and looking up from the ground he saw leather shoes and the bottom of a blue and red blazer when suddenly -.

"Kurt. Wake up. Son, it's time to get up. You have to go to work." Burt said gently; sitting on the edge of the bed in Kurt's old bedroom that they kept clean for the holidays and the rare not-holiday visit. Coffee cup at the ready, he shook his son to get a response.

"Dad?" Kurt replied groggily in a confused state that many get when they wake up in a place they had arrived at half-asleep. "What am I doing here? What is … going on?"

"You're in your old room, in Ohio. You are about to get up, and drink the coffee in my hand, and then you are going to get ready for work at the school." Burt remembered having to tell Kurt what he had to do in the morning whenever they woke up somewhere that wasn't his room. This made Burt sad that Kurt no longer recognized his room in his drowsy state of mind, even if he usually spent his nights in a bed in New York.

"I don't wanna go to school today Dad." Kurt moaned, making Burt flash back to when Kurt was still in high school. Burt would have to give Kurt a pep talk at least twice a week in the mornings to keep him going to school; those days Kurt just survived a day at a time. He was glad that Kurt was finally happy with himself. They had to put him into therapy through the last half of junior year, and all of senior year, to keep him going to school.

"Kurt, kid, wake up. I know you don't want to but your job isn't as forgiving as school is with attendance. I've got coffee." Waving the scent below his nose so he could tell it wasn't a trick.

"Mmmmm, coffee." Kurt inhaled deeply and opened his eyes slightly, making to sit up.

"Here you go. Now drink it and get up, or you won't have time for your skin care regimen." Burt then proceeded downstairs to waste time while Kurt was doing his thing.

Kurt, sitting up now, drank deeply. After finishing the cup quickly, Kurt dragged himself to the bathroom, and went through his careful skin care regimen. Once he all finished and dressed, he graced the downstairs with his presence. He was wearing black jeans, blue collared shirt (slightly unbuttoned), and no tie.

"Morning, Dad. Thanks for the wakeup call."

"You're welcome. It feels good to have you home again."

"Where's Carole?" Kurt asked, noticing her absence.

"She doesn't get to sleep in often, so I let her take every opportunity."

"Dad- are you BAKING?" Kurt spotted Burt with a bowl and something that looked like measuring cups, and ingredients to a Betty Crocker recipe. As suspected, he also spotted a box of muffin mixture hiding so as to try to keep it from Kurt's view.

"Hey, just because I wasn't any good when you were still living here doesn't mean I'm not good now. I've taken classes." Burt said trying to look dignified.

"From whom? Betty Crocker?" Kurt laughed, pointing to the half-hidden box.

Burt looks sullen and murmured "It still counts…"

"Okay, muffin man." Kurt poured himself another cup of coffee while grabbing a bagel.

"Hey! I'm baking breakfast. Put down that bagel!"

"Fine."

When the muffins were out and cooled off; both Kurt and Burt took a muffin and carefully bit into it. They then quickly spit it out, wiping their tongues with a napkin and washing out the taste with milk.

"That was my best work yet."

"Dad, why can't you just leave Carole with cooking? She is happy to do it. Remember that thing you made for Christmas? Pudding?"

"I told you, it was cake."

Looking at the clock, "Dad, I'm just going to take the bagel to go. I've got to get to work."

Burt walked him to the car, "If you need anything don't hesitate to call. I'm not working today."

"Okay, thanks Dad."

When Kurt arrived at the school building, he expected it to have changed. That because he and his friends were not there, it would have changed in the past few years. He hadn't seen the school since he graduated, mainly because he avoided it like the plague whenever he came to Ohio. Of course, it looked the same. The presence of Kurt and his friends meant nothing.

He shut off the car engine in his old parking spot in the back of the parking lot, and headed for the school building. Strangely it felt more comfortable to do things as he had before than what he was used to currently. Usually he would have parked in the closest spot available, but not here.

Blaine had arrived only just before Kurt, and was surprised to see that he went to the back of the lot, while going to the front of the lot himself. He observed Kurt as he walked towards the building, at first proud, strong, and tall. However, as he got closer, he started shrinking, his back and shoulders slouching, and just wreaked average. Curiosity was yelling at him, wanting to know what it was about this place that affected Kurt so. I mean, he thought to himself, Kurt practically went into shock when he found out we had to work here and then he doesn't accept the hotel room that would have been provided, and now he is acting very strangely. What is going on?

Blaine waited for Kurt to enter the building, as he was hoping that he had a clue as to where they were supposed to go. The folder had a map, but he really was clueless; he still could get lost in New York after living there for five years. Sometimes, even he had to wonder if he had been dropped as a child.

"Good morning." Blaine said with a smile.

"Morning." Kurt said in a voice that, usually flaming with confidence, was so shy. Blaine couldn't help but wonder if something happened last night, or if it was something about this place. Whatever it was, he couldn't help but feel sorry for whatever was going on inside of his head. He followed Kurt through the halls, getting hopelessly lost. Obviously Kurt knew the way around the school well. Was this his old high school? He did say that he would just sleep with his family while we're here… But what could have happened that was so extreme to turn Kurt from the over-confident diva into someone so shy, almost trying to hide in a crowd even when alone with one person, so quickly?

"So," Blaine said nonchalantly "You seem to know your way around this school well."

"Blaine," Kurt retorted, trying to channel his diva, "It's a school. They usually are pretty straight forward, not to mention the map."

"One, there are no signs, and two," Blaine said stopping him, "you haven't even looked at the map. Not once since you've arrived; and don't tell me you memorized the pathway, Kurt. I know you. We may not be each other's best friends, but we do know each other. I know how you act, your personality, the things you are most and least comfortable doing, and how to help you through the things that you are not as comfortable doing. You know me as well as I know you. We know better than anyone that it is precisely how well we know the other that makes us so good at modeling together. That is why we were put together in the beginning and that is why we are put together now. If there is something I should know about you, you need to tell me. Now." Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes and felt him shrink away.

"Blaine, thank you. But it is in the past. I have to let go of it." Kurt couldn't stand the feeling of Blaine's eyes burning a hole through him. "Let's just get to the shoot."

Kurt just turned away to start off in the correct direction when two figures came around the corner.

"I'm just saying Will, if you were to cut down your hair products by half, you would probably be able to supply a full third world country with products."

"Come on, aren't you getting tired of those yet Sue?"

"No way butt chin! I have already gotten you to stop wearing sweater vests every day. I'm not giving up."

Mr. Schue laughs and looks forward, only to the one and only Kurt Hummel.

"Kurt! Hey! I heard you were doing a photo shoot here. This is a weird place to be doing one, isn't it? Especially for someone as high up on the scale as you?" Mr. Schue asked, embracing Kurt.

"Well, Vogue wants to try a new angle." Kurt explained.

"Porcelain! Welcome back buddy. What would you say to doing a demonstration someday soon? I could really use the talent. No one is nearly good enough for my routines anymore-"

"Hey, Coach Sylvester. I'm sorry, but Blaine and I have to get to the photo shoot."

"Wait one minute Porcelain. You haven't given me an answer."

Kurt hesitates, "Fine, yeah, I guess I can help you out. Mr. Schue has my number; you can get it from him."

"Fantastic." Coach Sylvester looks over at Blaine, and whispers to Kurt "Don't trust the curly haired freak." Then she goes off on her own way, dragging Mr. Schue alongside her.

"Bye Kurt!" Mr. Schue manages to call before turning the corner.

Blaine was put off by the two teachers, but he also knew that this was exactly what he could use to keep him from getting out of talking about whatever was wrong. It surprised Blaine; therefore, that Kurt actually was smiling and finally seemed at ease after the encounter.

Kurt, relaxing enough to take on his mannerisms of his inner-diva, was once again the famous Kurt, and started off towards the photo shoot. Blaine jogging after him, not wanting to lose him for fear of being completely lost. Even though Kurt had regained his composure, Blaine still wanted to confront him about it later, because he knew what it was like to not confront problems of his own, and he would not want that for even his worst enemy, and especially not Kurt.

They arrived just before seven thirty, their call time. The new photographer looked up and beamed, introducing himself.

"Hello, I'm Mark Harris. I'm honored to be the photographer of the shoot." He said shaking Kurt and Blaine's hands.

"Hi, I'm Kurt."

"Blaine."

"Well, I know who you are. Who doesn't? You are very accomplished young models aren't you? Yes, well, I will meet you in an hour after hair and make-up then."

Blaine and Kurt were ushered over to where everything was set up and were subjected to what Kurt enjoyed calling 'therapy'. After they were dressed and had their make-up and hair all good to go, Kurt and Blaine were led to the Bleachers for their first set. Football practice was still going on, but that didn't matter much, seeing as they would be behind the camera. When they entered the field, Blaine noticed Kurt go a little pale, hearing the football coach yell and a player answering back "Yes, Coach Karofsky!"