Kurt stood in front of the mirror of his dorm room with the mask in his hands, scowling at it. When he’d com up with this oh so brilliant idea he hadn’t taken into account just how tight the costume was or how he’d be practically suffocated in this mask. Not to mention what it would do to his hair. With a sigh and an admitedly sharp intake of breath, the actor pulled it over his head taking a few moments to adjust to the confines of the mask. He never knew just how he’d come up with this plan, normally he wasn’t so comercial when it came to costumes… However this had particularly interesting and amusing inside jokes he just couldn’t pass up on. Finally, after having decided this was as good as it was going to get and his self consciousness was just going to have to be dealt with, the actor started making his way down the minimalistically decorated hallways of the dorms. Halloween was tacky at times but Kurt secretly loved it. He loved the stories, the movies, the fact that it was the one time of year everyone became somewhat creative to whatever extent they were capable of. In fact, the annual Halloween party that was held on the NYU campus was the only party Kurt willingly went to as a uni party. He wasn’t sociable enough, but with most people in disguise, it was asy enough to just blend in. He swiftly came to Blaine’s door, knocking in a strange rhythm and fixing a grin on his face before realising it couldn’t be seen through the mask.

Blaine settled himself comfortably against the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off the end as he sat his Les Paul in his lap, his fingers strumming at it methodically as he hunched over his guitar to watch the movement along the strings. Words rang in his mind to the rhythm as he continued to play, feeling that normal comfort and calm whenever he’d hold a guitar in his hands or sit in front of a piano, allowing his emotions to take over and compose through music what was created y his fingers and thoughts. He should have taken into account how sitting in his current position would probably ruin the half hour of ironing he had spent on his dark black-grey pants, or how pushing the sleeves of his faded blue button-down shirt past his elbows would cause creases that he wasn’t all too fond of. But at that moment in time it just didn’t matter, because lyrics started to solidify in his mind as his strumming became a little more rhythmic and sure, as though everything were coming together for this new song he had been thinking of for the past couple weeks. The musician’s fingers hesitated against the strings as his head lifted at the sound of a knock on the door. Blaine finally pushed himself up from his bed and swung the strap to his Les Paul around until his guitar was resting against his back. As soon as he pried the door open he couldn’t help but smile cunningly, “Looking for someone, Spidey?” He eventually let out a chuckle and stepped aside, motioning for Kurt to come-in. The music major pulled the guitar strap over his head, being cautious that it didn’t mess up his carefully done hair, and set it on the bed before grabbing his black tie from the back of his desk chair and slipped it around his neck. He attempted to tie it, though after awhile he realized the knot was backwards and undid it, glancing down at the material in his hands with a puzzled expression. Blaine finally lifted his head and looked over at Kurt, a sheepish smile spreading to his lips the moment he saw him, “Would you mind helping me out? I’m hopeless with ties.”