The girl smiled and tore up the ticket, Kurt thanked her and entered the theatre house. Fortunately Broadway had its usual soothing effect on him again. Kurt thought about that night, when it would be on the stage the same girl who grabbed him there about ten years before to sing together, running the risk of getting caught once or twice, and he was on the verge of tears.

But he couldn't avoid it and tears flew anyway when he noticed that in the envelope in which Rachel had given him the tickets, there was Sebastian's one – he didn't even want to think about that name- and something else: the photo of them a Japanese tourist snapped by the renowned "Tiffany & Co."' s entrance, during their first trip to New York.

The metallic voice, exhorting the audience to take a seat, brought him back to reality, so he started looking for his. Rachel told him about a hundred of times that they kept three rows for her and she gave the seats, as well as her relatives and friend, to some of her students (according to Kurt, just for narcissism). He greeted with a hug LeRoy and Hiram, who kept bickering, accusing each other of having forgotten the bouquet for their daughter. Brody instead, staring in exasperation his fathers-in-law, gave a cheerful pat on his back that, as usual, though given amicably, could smoothly knock him anyhow. He kept going on looking for his seat, encountered some other friends but he finally succeeded to sit down, putting the flowers to the right, where should have been Sebastian, between him and two of Rachel's students. Although he was very proud and happy about his best friend's success and he didnt' want to ruin the première to all with his bad mood, he wasn't able to pretend not to be angry and disappointed by how the guy he (maybe) could define "his boyfriend" had behaved.

They were by then at loggerheads and it seemed the other one didn't care at all; maybe it was only an illusion believing the French loved him. Kurt was an handsome man and Sebastian spent a lot of time in the hospital, so he probably opted for him, not being able to find anyone else. He didn't know how long he would be able to bear that situation...

-Oh my God, that's one of the Prussian blue Lavins that have been shown on the catwalk at the Fashion Week in Paris!

The delighted scream coming from the person sat beyond the bunch of flowers distracted Kurt from his thoughts and led him to look at the boy: he was not very tall but had quite broad shoulders and hair plastered to his head by a ton of what, at first sight, looked like raspberry reinforced concrete. He couldn't continued his analysis, because the dark-haired boy's back was turned, and just for this and for that phrase showing how much he was a fashion lover, Kurt decided that even just listening to him and the other boy would be more interesting than brooding emptily, so he moved the bouquet and sat on its place. All those movements caught the two students' attention and they turned curiously. Under the layers of marble stood out a pair of strange and a little ridiculous triangular eyebrows, but what really struck the countertenor were two huge eyes whose colour ranged between green, hazel and gold, or a merger of the three in which he was drowning. The owner of those wonders brought him up with a question:

-Are you keeping the place for anyone?- his curiosity, even though innocent, annoyed Kurt and he couldn't hold a rude answer:

-No, there should have been that asshole of my boyfriend, but he stood me up so...- but realizing his heave, he added -anyway, I'm Kurt Hummel...

"I'm Blaine Anderson and he's Kevin Pike, we're Rachel Berry's students...well, she's an excellent singer and dancer, but she's so much unbearable as a teacher...I wonder how much you spent on that seat, are you a musical lover?!

-Yes, but it didn't actually cost me anything, I'm Rachel's flatmate...- smiled Kurt while that really ho...Blaine blushed and bubbled some embarrassed excuses.

-Don't worry, I often want to kill her, too! She's a prig and egocentric midget, but you can learn to love her...

-How long have you known her, sir?- then the younger asked, blaming himself immediately after for his total lack of discretion.

-"Sir"...? You have just found out that I'm friends with Rachel and you call me "sir"? There's no need!- said the doctor, having fun as hell when noticed the other was blushing. -However, for very much time. Too much time. For fifteen long, endless years.

-Fifteen years? Fifteen?- asked Kevin, appearing upset beyond Blaine.

-All right. After high school, I've been so much masochist that I decided to move here to NYC with her...-explained Kurt, looking at the queer lilac bow tie. "Odd but pretty" thought Kurt; after all he himself was the proponent of risky choices in relation to clothing. He was interrupted by the same metallic voice announcing the start of the show, while the lights went out and the few stragglers ran to their own seats. Then the curtain opened on Rachel and Kurt wondered how he could stand throughout the show if he was already moved.

*

Kurt took a day off after her best friend's debut. Everything went all right: he even forgot Sebastian. They stayed out late, toasted to billions of things and he also had to give chivalrously his comfortable bed to Messrs. Berry and sleep on the sofa; actually he didn't have time, strength and clarity to give weight to his boyfriend's awful action. But after have had a whole day to think about it, his anger was only increased and he know that shorty thereafter he would be yelling at the Frenchman. He stretched slowly, removed the plugs from his ears (Brody and Rachel went out also the night before and came back together, and he didn't want at all hear them doing "that"...) and got up. He spent a terrible night: the mirror reflected a tired, shattered man. He went back to the kitchen, where he had slept, and made coffee.

-Good morning- greeted him Hiram Berry, coming out from the bedroom wrapped in his violet dressing gown.

-Morning...some coffee?- asked Kurt, quarrelling with the coffe pod.

-Herbal tea. But I do, don't you worry. Still thank you for the room; you have frightening dark circles, pardon me. I feel guilty...

-It totally doesn't depend on you...

-What is the name of the boy you're dating with? The doctor...Hell, that's senile dementia!- said the man theatrically hitting his forehead.

-...Sebastian...- helped him the younger, whose stomach twisted as he pronounced that name.

-That's it...He wasn't at the theatre yesterday, was he?

-No, he wasn't. And that is exactly the problem. He has completely forgotten it.

-Uhm...Well, once LeRoy forgot my birthday, shortly after Rachel was born...then he carried me out for dinner, however- told Hiram trying to cheer him up.

-No text...-

-Wait for him to apology- advised him the man with a fatherly tone, and Kurt liked it.

-He won't do it. I'm sure. Anyway thank you for the advice...now I go to get ready...- and he got up. He really appreciated Mr. Berry's interest, but he already had a plan: that day he only would be Dr. Kurt Hummel, paediatrician, office on the second floor at Allen Pavilion Hospital, Broadway.

*

-Good day, Clare- smiled gently Kurt, checking the medical records near the child's bed.

-Good morning, Porcelain!- replied her laughing.

The brown-haired looked at her confused: -Hey!- reproached her -Who taught you that word?- but the little girl kept laughing, covering her mouth with the hands. Fuck. He needed Sebastian: in less than a month Clare might need an operation, and Kurt needed the opinion of someone who understood neurology.

-Was your friend good?- asked the child, rising slightly on pillows. Kurt loved her, she was attentive to every detail, extremely mature for her age. She was 6 and he had never seen her crying, neither when they subjected her to cycles of syringes.

-Awesome- he smiled, said goodbye to the little girl with a caress, then he went to the surgeon's office at a brisk pace. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and entered the room. Ignoring the sight of the man behind the desk, laid the records regardless in front of him and was about to turn and going back.

-Oh, come on!- exclaimed Smythe raising his eyes. -Are you still angry, after a whole day?!- he said.

Kurt turned, leaving the door open and taking some steps forward:- Are you so stupid from birth, instead?!- nearly screamed the shorter, feeling the anger that he had tried to bury rising up impetuously. Someone behind the paediatrician cleared timidly his voice.

-Dr. Smythe, we need you. Blaine Anderson. 24. Down in first aid, it is assumed cerebral aneurysm- said in one breath the nurse.