Today felt promising.

Blaine Anderson was out of college and looking for a job. With a dream of Broadway, and a degree in theatre, he headed to a callback with determination. He had made it through the open audition he had found through one of his theatre friends. He felt confident and he had enough experience. Blaine had been a Warbler at Dalton Academy and in college, he had landed leading roles in a few productions.

Blaine was introduced to the arts at a very young age. His parents were easily considered upper class and would often support up and coming artists and musicians. Blaine used to believe it was "to show America's youth what the world should be like." As he grew older, he learned that excuse was bullshit and all his parents truly wanted was a youth centre named in their honor. But his parents selfish intentions never stopped him for immersing himself in the arts. He grew to love music, dance, art, and literature. And it was the words that he truly fell in love with. Blaine loved how powerful words could be, how they could express emotion, start movements, change lives, take you to some faraway place you never knew existed. He became an actor for that very reason. Playwrights had this way with words that he never understood, but he took great pleasure in bringing those words to life.

Blaine brought his attention to the papers in front of him. His sheet music. He went over it again, humming quietly along. Everything had to be perfect. Finally, he was called into the theatre. He stood up and took a sharp breath in before quickly letting it back out. Courage, he thought as he walked through the doors after the assistant. Blaine could barely stop his nerves from getting the best of him. He looked down at his feet to make sure he didn't trip. He walked onstage, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. As he looked out past the stage lights, into the empty house, he could picture the hundreds of patrons applauding him, calling his name, "Blaine Anderson."

"Blaine Anderson," a voice read.

Blaine was sucked back into reality. He turned his gaze towards the panel then oh no. The director who had called his name was beautiful. A flawless and deadly distraction. Blaine cursed himself as he couldn't stop admiring his beauty. Tall, poised, and stunning. His carefully styled hair was perfect, just like his pale skin. Blaine's eyes trailed along the delicate curve of his jaw, down his neck, to his collarbone which was barely visible under the purple button down he was wearing. His black tie hung loosely around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt were undone and the sleeves were rolled up to just above his elbow. And yet, as unkempt as he was, he still managed to look glamorous.

"Yes, that's me," he said, a little breathless. He cleared his throat as the director introduced the panel to him. "And I'm Kurt Hummel. We'd like to hear you sing first, then read a few lines from the script. What song did you have prepared for us today?" All Blaine wanted to do was run away and never look back. He had promised himself that he wouldn't be distracted by love. No one got by on just love. Career comes first, remember? he told himself. He had to make sure he impressed this man. He swallowed hard as he thought about the many ways he could ruin this audition, but he hastily disregarded them. Deep breaths, he said to himself, don't blow this. "I'm going to sing One Song Glory from Rent." And with one last deep breath, he began his audition.

The performers were on break, waiting for the second round of callbacks. Blaine took the free time to make a few calls. After finding a secluded spot—he hated talking on the phone in public—he called his roommate. He groaned over the phone as his roommate, Puck, answered. Puck was loud, obnoxious, and highly inappropriate, but it made him a wonderful friend and housemate. Blaine was actually really fond of him and often thought of Puck as an older brother. "Puck, I made a total fool of myself!" The man laughed loudly as Blaine mumbled, "It's not funny…." "Blaine, chill out. Just tell me what went down, okay?" He sighed. "Well, I didn't sing too terribly, I just—I just got all flustered. I tried to impress the director by also playing the piano, but I ended up dropping my sheet music all over the place AND then during a line reading, I spilled my water. I've never turned so red before. I probably looked like those big ripe tomatoes that I have growing outside our windowsill. He probably wrote me off immediately" Puck chuckled, said not to worry, then asked what the director's name was. Blaine felt the blood rush to his cheeks. "Kurt Hummel, he's—"

"Wait, who?" Puck asked, cutting him off quickly.

"Kurt Hummel!" Blaine repeated.

Puck laughed in disbelief, "Son of a bitch. Let me guess, skin like porcelain, great hair, and an obsession with Italian vogue?" "Well, I don't know about the Vogue part, but yeah…," Blaine blushed a deep shade of red. Puck laughed one more time. "Dude, I went to high school with that guy. He's a great singer, and a pretty alright kid. Knew he'd end up on Broadway somehow. You know, I had to beat some kid's ass on my football team because he threatened the little dude's life and beat on him so much." "Oh, god," Blaine gasped, shocked. "Why was he harassing him?" "Kurt's gay. You should go out with him sometime." "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I want to date every other gay man! Plus, no distractions right now. I need to focus on my career." he said in his defense. "Whatever you say, bro. As I was saying, he was proud to be gay and Karofsky didn't like that so much so he'd shove him and all this stuff. He got expelled for a while because of it. It was intense. But last time I heard though, they were better." Blaine nodded to himself. Kurt was like him in a few ways, and that scared him.

A young man who Blaine vaguely remembered found Blaine in the corner of the hallway. Jesse, he recalled. "Callbacks are posted," the man whispered. Blaine nodded in acknowledgement, thanking him, and said his goodbyes to Puck. He then rushed to the callback list, searching for his name. A wave of relief surged over him as he found his name on the paper. He congratulated those who would join him for the second round, and condoled those wouldn't. Blaine was in the middle of a conversation with a few people he'd been in when he caught sight of Kurt. He was speaking to Jesse. Curiosity and a touch of jealously swept over Blaine as Kurt playfully smacked Jesse's shoulder. Kurt must have complimented Jesse, as his face had turned the slightest shade of pink.

He shook his head. What are you doing? he scolded himself, as he turned back to the conversation. "You should've seen him in Wicked. It was a real breakthrough for him and especially for the LGBT community. The first male to play a female role." The girl next to him sighed. "He was in Wicked?" Blaine asked. Another girl in their group nodded enthusiastically. "And he did it with his best friend, as well. I read an interview somewhere. He said they went to high school together, and were in a glee club that went to Nationals a few years ago that time they were in New York. Apparently, they snuck into the Gershwin and sang together, just the two of them. The security guard just let them. I'm so jealous of them. Both are so so talented." The girl rambled on, obviously a very big fan of the two.

Blaine wondered if Puck knew the girl as well. "What was her name?" he asked, seemingly nonchalant. Blaine hadn't seen Jesse walk over to them when he popped into the conversation.

"Rachel," he answered. "Her name is Rachel Berry. Extremely talented and brilliant. I dated her briefly in high school before the rivalry of our two show choirs came between our love." Does everyone from Lima know each other except me? Blaine thought, incredulously. "Who would've thought all this talent came from Lima, Ohio. First Kurt, then Rachel, and you," Blaine laughed. "You know about Kurt and Rachel?" asked Jesse, curiously. He nodded. "My roommate was friends with them, he went to the same high school as them." "Who is he? I may know of him if he was in their glee club." When Blaine described Puck, Jesse's eyes darkened. "Oh yes. I remember him," mumbled Jesse. He said something about the poor Range Rovers. Blaine didn't catch everything, but from the apparent dislike of Puck, he could tell what went down between the two show choirs wasn't simply a friendly competition.

A few of the performers had started to say their goodbyes and leaving the theatre. Blaine wanted to stay a few more minutes though. He had never been backstage of a real Broadway theatre and he didn't want to pass up this opportunity.

Kurt Hummel blew through the stage door, fumbling with some papers. He was so distracted, he almost didn't hear the singing coming from somewhere in the building.

Almost.

He shoved the papers in his bag, focusing on finding the source of the noise. It was a familiar one, he definitely heard it during auditions sometime today. He tread lightly, not wanting to surprise the singer, causing him to stop. He finally found him. The dark haired boy was singing in one of the empty rehearsal rooms and playing along on the piano. Kurt peered into the room ever so slightly. He recognized the singer almost instantly. He giggled softly as he remember how nervous the boy, Blaine, had been during his audition. It was cute, though, and Blaine had so much talent. Kurt was definitely impressed, especially as Blaine belted the last few notes in his song. Kurt started to clap, a wide grin on his face. Startled, Blaine almost fell of the piano bench. "Mr. Hummel!" "Blaine Anderson, right?" He asked, walking toward him. His hand extended. Blaine took it hesitantly, still embarrassed that Kurt had been watching him sing. "You can call me Kurt, by the way. I never felt like 'Mr. Hummel' suited me," he chuckled softly. "You did well today, you have a gift." Blaine could feel the color rushing to his cheeks. "Thank you very much, Mr. Hum—Kurt. I'm really excited to hopefully be a part in your play!" "You're welcome. I look forward to seeing more of you."

"Kurt," Blaine said, barely above a whisper. "Do you know Noah Puckerman?" Kurt's face lit up when Blaine mentioned Puck. "Oh, Noah!" he said, a huge smile on his delicate face. "Oh my god, yes!" "Well, he said he went to the same high school as you and that I should definitely talk with you." "Oh, do you want to get coffee?" Kurt suggested. "Coffee would be great," admitted Blaine, opening up to Kurt's warm energy. "How's that coffee shop down the street, um, Chocolatte?" "Sounds delicious!" said Blaine, beaming. Coffee wouldn't hurt, and maybe if Kurt likes me enough, it'll help land the role I want, Blaine reasoned. Kurt turned around and started walking. "Great! Let's just walk there, save some gas. Wow, how is Puckerman? I haven't seen or heard much of him since graduation." Blaine smiled, falling into place next to Kurt. He began to tell Kurt what Puck had been up to since he had moved in.

"So you went to McKinley with Puck?" Blaine clarified as he and Kurt were finally situated with their coffees. Kurt took a sip of his grande nonfat mocha before responding. "Yes, at first, Puckerman and I hated each other. He would throw me into the dumpsters before school even. But, then, I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders and took another sip of his coffee. "He joined New Directions—our glee club—and must've had a change of heart because then he started standing up for me and was actually a decent friend to me." "Puck really is a great guy," Blaine admitted. "He can get a little inappropriate, but he's humorous I'm glad he's my roommate. I can't imagine how my New York experience would've turned without him." "Is he still dating Lauren Zizes?" Kurt asked, his eyebrow raised high on his forehead. Blaine almost choked on his coffee. "They dated?" gasped Blaine when he had recovered. "They still keep in touch, but Puck firmly says that they're just friends." Kurt laughed and explained how Puck took a lot of effort to get her to date him. Blaine definitely was bringing this up when he got home.

Kurt and Blaine spent most of the time regaling each other with stories about their high school years. They barely noticed they had spent almost three hours in the coffee shop. "Oh, god, Blaine," cried Kurt, glancing at his phone. "I need to get home! I have a show to run," he laughed, gathering his bag. Blaine stood up with Kurt, swinging his bag over his shoulder "I really enjoyed this, Kurt. What a small world we live in!" "I know! I never would've thought I'd see anyone here from Lima besides Rachel." Kurt had stopped, then looked up at Blaine.

"Do you want to get coffee again sometime?" He was scanning Blaine's face, making sure he wasn't overstepping boundaries. "You're a fresh face from Lima, who I don't know yet. And If Puckerman thinks you're alright, needless to say, you're probably an interesting person, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine opened his mouth, about to say no, but then stopped. Kurt was fun and he was really good-looking. If anything, he'd be a good friend to have. He smiled, and finally said, "I'd be glad to, Kurt Hummel," They hastily exchanged contact information and then headed out into the chilly fall air, going their separate ways. Blaine would deny it if ever confronted, but he spent the entire walk home thinking about Kurt. How beautiful he was, how much they had in common, how he could squint a little while Blaine talked and he could tell Kurt was truly listening. Kurt was flawless in Blaine's mind and the more he thought about him, the less of a distraction he seemed.

"Oh no. Dude, you're supposed to talk about your own sex life, not mine!" shouted Puck, throwing popcorn at Blaine before shoving another handful in his mouth. Blaine was making sandwiches in the kitchenette of their apartment, his coffee date with Kurt still fresh in his mind. "It just popped up in the conversation!" he admitted. "You poor thing, six hours in a portable bathroom?" Puck thew more popcorn at him "I don't want to talk about it. It was a dark time for me," he mumbled. Blaine just laughed at him, eating a piece of popcorn that had landed on the counter. "Do you want mayo on yours?" "Sure." "I'm actually surprised he remembers so much about high school," said Blaine, his brow furrowed. "I don't remember half as much as he does." "Yeah, Kurt's always had a super crazy brain. I cheated off his geometry tests in sophomore year. Fucking genius that kid." Blaine gingerly placed the last slice of bread on top of the sandwiches, admiring his work before placing them in front of Puck on the coffee table.

He and Puck were watching some crappy movie they had rented at the video rental store around the corner. It was semi-bearable until the ill-timed, poorly done sex scene. Puck scoffed, taking a bite into his sandwich. "This movie's shit, and the girl's not even hot." Blaine rolled his eyes and gave his input. "It's just dumb and throws off the whole movie. Weren't they just hacking up corpses just ten minutes before this? And five bucks her tits are fake." Puck shrugged and squinted, trying to inspect them. After a few seconds, he sighed. "Yeah, they're fake." Puck turned off the movie and tried to find a football game that was still on. Blaine retreated back into his room only to come back out. He was extremely bored and needed to get out of the small apartment. "Want to go out?" "Please," Puck groaned, desperate for something to do. "Maybe you should invite Lauren, tell her who we met," he suggested. Puck sneered at him before punching Blaine's shoulder. They threw on their jackets and headed to their usual hang out, a bar only a few blocks away.

"Yeah, you know, she was just-just the only girl that Puckzilla would never go for, but she was confident and sassy and she blew me away, and it was fucking rad," an intoxicated Noah Puckerman told Blaine. Once he started referred to himself in third person, Blaine could tell he was drunk enough to start heading home. It was getting late anyways. "Come on, Puck, let's get going," he said, pushing him out the door. "You're not even drunk, though, Anderson!" "I'm plenty drunk." "Whatever you say, man." Blaine laughed as Puck practically stumbled the whole way home, laughing about the most trivial things. "Blaine, check this out," he said, his breath turning to steam in the cold air. Puck jumped along the curb, stretching out his arms. He proceeded to balance along the curb like a tightrope walker. He had taken five rocky steps before wiping out hard onto the concrete. Blaine ran over to pick him up, as Puck dusted himself off and tugged at his jacket. "I'm fine. Alright, I'm good," mumbled Puck. "Oh yeah, but how's your ego?" Blaine asked, a devilish smile on his face. Puck glared at Blaine and punched him in the shoulder once more.

Blaine woke up with a slight headache and his stomach was turning. Groaning, he rolled out of his bed and slid onto the hardwood floor. He let the cold floor soothe the pounding in his head. When he didn't feel as sick, he hopped in the shower. He let the cold water clear his head, and thought about yesterday with Kurt. He hadn't dated since college. He had decided to focus on his career, too afraid to be hurt again by love. And now Kurt was everything he had looked for in a man. Blaine decided that once he figured out what he was going to do on Broadway, he'd go after Kurt. But for now, they would just be friends. Simply friends.

Blaine walked into the kitchenette, clad in only a towel, and poured himself a bowl of cereal. He was leaning against the kitchen counter when his phone started to vibrate violently on the counter. He grabbed it to see Kurt's name on the caller ID. He swallowed his food hard before answering. "Kurt!" he cried. "Blaine!" replied Kurt with a similar enthusiasm. "Hey, I really, really desperately need coffee and a walk. I have the worst case of writer's block and if I stay in this tiny office any longer, I may just bust. Pick you up in twenty?" Blaine panicked slightly. There was no way he could pull off a decent enough look in twenty minutes, but he was bored and traffic could cause some delays. "Sure, let me get ready. I'll text you my address, alright?" "See you soon!"

He hung up his phone, quickly shot Kurt a text containing his address, and sprinted to his bathroom. His hair had to be just right. Blaine didn't want Kurt to see his full head of curls just yet. Also, his outfit had to be worthy of Kurt's approval. Kurt was very fashion forward and Blaine was too, sort of. He figured a pair of dark jeans and his favorite leather jacket would suffice. They were going for a walk after. Looking good, Anderson, thought Blaine, checking himself out in the mirror. Puck was still asleep, probably hung over and in pain from last night, so Blaine wrote a quick note on a Post It and stuck it to the fridge. Blaine knew it was the first thing Puck goes to in the morning so he was bound to see it. Blaine slipped on his favorite pair of saddle shoes and heading out the door of his apartment to wait for Kurt in the lobby.

I'm here, I hope! the message read.

Blaine laughed at the message. He looked out the window to see Kurt pull up in his Cadillac crossover.

I see your vehicle, you're in the right spot!

Blaine hopped into the car, and smiled at Kurt. Kurt returned the expression. Blaine could see dark circles under his eyes, but he knew Kurt would freak out, so he kept quiet. He could see Kurt quietly judging his outfit. When he saw his signature eyebrow raise, he knew he was in the clear. The two stopped briefly at a Starbucks and then headed to Central Park. "Blaine, I don't think you understand," he began, his free hand moved to his forehead. "The words seemed to move as I wrote them and I tried to take a break by reading the Italian Vogue issue again, but then the models and words started moving, as well. That's when I knew, I just needed fresh air. And caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine," laughed Kurt. "I can only imagine how terrifying that would be. That sounds like my Winter Semester Incident from junior year." Blaine cringed at the memory. Kurt figured that story would be explained later on.

"What have you been working on?" Blaine asked, changing the subject. "Just scenes, mainly. I want the dialogue, the stage direction, the music to just flow. I'm somewhat of a perfectionist so I go over my work with a very critical eye." Blaine nodded, allowing Kurt to further continue. "Picture me as a designer, and my play as the centerpiece for my new spring collection. I need to make sure the piece is classic enough to be accepted, but also just as modern so people will look at it and say, 'I haven't see this style before! I need this in my closet.' Then I need to make sure each separate part clicks and looks great together. If it clashes, I need to rework the parts to make them do so. Understand what I mean?" Blaine nodded. He truly did. Now he knew why Kurt had created such a buzz as a director. He had made playwriting, something Blaine never had experience with, comprehensible.

"You're going to be an amazing director, Kurt. I can tell," Blaine said, flashing Kurt a quick smile. "Thanks, Blaine. I'm anxious to see how people will react to the play. Being so young, a lot of critics doubt my ability to write and direct a play. I hope to prove them wrong." Blaine and Kurt held each other gaze for a moment before turning their attention back to the walk.

"Blaine, can I be perfectly honest with you?" asked Kurt, looking down at the ground. Blaine was hesitant when he answered. "Yeah, what's up?" "I'm afraid I can't give you the lead role," Kurt said, avoiding eye contact. Blaine's world came crashing down. What had he done wrong? He needed this, it was his dream, his life. "Oh," was all he could manage to say. Kurt reached for Blaine's hand. Blaine reluctantly took it. "But listen, it's not because you're not talented! You have a lovely singing voice and you are a great actor! It's just, when I started writing the original script, I pictured Jesse as the lead role. I wrote the role for him. The only reason I held auditions was because Jesse was working out schedules. I wanted a back up, just in case. It's just, ever since I saw his talent in high school and since Rachel had still kept in touch with Jesse, I've always imagined him as my lead. I'm so sorry, Blaine. I'll put in a good word to other directors for you. How about that?" Blaine was upset, to say the least, but Kurt was so comforting right now. "Thanks for being honest, Kurt," said Blaine, genuinely. He squeezed Kurt's soft, warm hand before letting go and continuing on with his walk. Kurt followed right behind. What Blaine didn't know was the real reason Kurt had turned him down, how Kurt was admiring the way he walked, the way Blaine shoved his hands in the pockets of that leather jacket that Kurt found incredibly sexy, the way Kurt was shaking his head to himself, denying the fact that he was falling in love with a one Blaine Anderson.