Six Years Later

"Ugghhh...I always forget to close the blinds on the worst nights," Kurt groaned squinting at the window that had just caused him to wake up. He patted the bed next to him and was relieved that the sheets were cool. Adam or...Aaron...or something, must have left early that morning. Kurt didn't make a habit out of bringing home randoms, but hey, last night was the rap party for his first Broadway play. He deserved to bring home a little (or as it turned out not so little) goody bag. He stretched his arms above his head and let out a satisfied grunt when he heard his joints crack. He was grateful that he managed to dodge a bad hangover. There was only a dull throb in his forehead and a slight cottony taste in his mouth.

He pulled on a pair of boxer briefs from the floor and padded out of his room and into the kitchen. Sebastian, who was now his room mate, was already sitting at the table dressed for work and reading the paper. Kurt dropped down in the seat across from him and started drinking from his orange juice, "you know we have plenty of juice in the refrigerator, casanova," Sebastian said, putting the paper down and yanking his glass back from Kurt. "I know having random sex can make you thirsty, but I'd rather not have your nasty, hangover morning breath on my glass."

"Yeah you would know about the after effects of random sex," Kurt said slumping down in the chair and pouting at the loss of the juice.

"And to think, I was just about to congratulate you on the glowing article about your big closing night in the Times, but with an attitude like that..."

Kurt glared at him and snatched the paper out of his hand, "if you ever just gave me a straight compliment I think I'd die of shock, so don't bother," Kurt said, taking a bagel from the bowl on the table. "Way to go on the early morning bagel run, though. How uncharacteristically thoughtful of you."

"Well some of us who aren't genius recluse Broadway script writers have to get up and go to work in the morning," Sebastian said, gathering up his briefcase and coat to head to work at the bank he worked at. "Plus, I got to catch a glimpse of your dance partner from last night. Nice pick, K. Humps. I'll see you later," and with that Sebastian was out the door.

Tony Award Winning Play 'The Little Dog Laughed' Closes After 18 Months on Broadway

After over five hundred performances, many of which were sold out, The Little Dog Laughed has had its final show on the broadway stage.

The story features a closeted Hollywood actor (Finn Hudson) who falls in love with a Rent Boy, (James Gordon) after he hires him to his hotel room.

"It was a great run and the project will always be close to my heart," lead actor and casting director Finn Hudson said at the after party last night. "I'm just looking forward to what Kurt dreams up next."

Hudson is referring to Kurt Hummel, his step-brother and the man who penned the Tony award winning play. Hummel is known for his reticence when asked about his writing and the unconventional manner in which he got his show to broadway.

The show started as Hummel's senior project at Columbia University. As a money saving trick he recruited his step-Brother, and Actor's Studio graduate to play the lead roll. A producer who was in the audience took an interest in the show and backed it all the way to broadway.

"It was a combination of a lot of hard work and a lot of good luck," Hudson said. "It doesn't hurt that we have a lot of talented friends who helped us put it together," he added, referring to the small group of long time friends that directed, costumed, and provided media for the show.

Hummel himself, declined to comment on any future projects, but both Hudson and director, Arthur Abrams, assured reporters that there would be more from the group in the "near furniture."

Kurt stopped reading at that point and moved to put his bagel in the toaster, dropping the paper irreverently into the recycling bin on the way. As far as the rest of the group knew, there would be a new project in the near future, but the fact was, that Kurt hadn't managed to produce anything worth while in the four months that he had been actively trying. Every day he would obediently sit down in front of his macbook and swear to himself that he would start pounding out the next great American play, but he would always end up googling himself and spending untold hours on Reddit. The only thing he had managed to work on was the biopic musical that he only wrote as a sort of therapy from his formative years. That was one piece of writing never meant to see the light of day.

His phone buzzed with a text message from Finn when he sat down to eat his breakfast.

Artie and I are meeting w/ producers tomorrow. Can you send me what you have so far?

Kurt made an irritated face at his phone and decided that Finn could wait for an answer a little longer. Suddenly not hungry he pushed his bagel away and decided that maybe he would have better luck writing with a change of scenery. He quickly dressed in jeans and a sweater and headed out to a local coffee shop that he knew didn't have wifi to avoid every possible distraction.

0000000000

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Artie said from his place beside Finn in front of Kurt's apartment door. "Didn't he give you that key for emergencies only?"

"We have a meeting with our producers in 14 hours and Kurt hasn't answered any of the 12 text messages I sent him or answered any of the 20 times I called him. If that's not an emergency then I don't know what is," Finn said opening the door to the well decorated home. "Look, for all we know he could be home and still sleeping off his hangover. If not, we'll just go in, get whatever draft he has on his backup hard drive, and get out. He'll probably be pissed, but I'd rather deal with an angry Kurt than a bunch of disgruntled backers."

"Fine, but if this goes wrong, I'm placing the blame unilaterally with you."

The two walked in and called out for Kurt. When they didn't get a response, they headed into the man's office instead.

"Damn this place is a mess," Artie said, picking through a pile of papers and shoving them aside so he could pull his wheel chair up next to the desk.

"Yeah, he's always sort of been like that," Finn said, wasting no time attaching the external hard drive to his own laptop. "His living spaces are always meticulously neat, but his work spaces look like my bedroom in high school." A few minutes later he made a triumphant noise, "This must be it," he said opening a document called 'Gay Lima.' and copying it onto his own computer. "We can read through it later, but we should get out of here before he gets home. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."