Kurt's shop was small, but perfect. Racks of his designs he had been working on for years hung up in the best possibly organized way. His counter stood in the middle of the back wall from the entrance, sitting between the archway that led to the door to his upstairs apartment and the public restroom and then the fitting rooms. He remembered staying up all night the past night to carefully write out the cost of each item and making sure everything was in color order rather than item order. Kurt himself had always enjoyed picking his store-bought items he wore by color.

Today was the first day that his shop would be opened. He still had his letters to mail out to the main capitol to pay for his ads in the local magazines and newspapers and still had to mail out his letter about his new life to his family back home.

Just then, the store entrance opened and small delicate bells chimed to let Kurt know. Kurt raised his head, looking up to see who it was. Two Capitol officers with a small boy who looked to be Kurt's age between them. He wore handcuffs and a wary expression as the boy looked around the shop with wide eyes.

"Hello, can I help you?" Kurt asked with a friendly tone to the officers.

The officers were taken back by Kurt's unusual earnest politeness. Kurt was going to have to get used to ones being shocked with him. "Um, we've been given orders to deliver this Avox to you. The Capitol has no need of it, so President Snow wanted us to offer you it," said officer 2. Kurt decided to name them Officer 1 and Officer 2.

Kurt cringed when they referred to the boy as 'it'. What was an Avox anyway? Kurt blinked and tried to find words to say. Avox. Must be a type of Capitol servant. "What will happen if I don't accept him?" Kurt asked. He had no need for a servant, but he feared the consequences if he didn't take the boy in.

"Execution, sir," Officer 1 answered.

Kurt thought it over. The expenses of feeding another mouth, besides the stray cat he had found and gave a home up stairs in his apartment. He was sure he could manage it with the money his parents had sent him and the Capitol had granted him to start out with.

"Alright. I'll take him," Kurt decided.

The officers nodded their head. Officer 2 took out a key and unlocked the handcuffs. "Have a good day, sir," said Officer 1 as they left, leaving Kurt and the boy, urm...Avox...alone in silence. Why did they call him an Avox if they could have just stuck with 'servant'? Maybe they wanted to be fancy.

Kurt tilted his head to the side as he looked over the boy, who seemed to be the most silent person he had ever met. The boy had a head of dark, curly hair, thick triangular eyebrows, caramel brown eyes bent to the carpet, fully-carved lips that were set in a frown, and he was short. Maybe a few inches shorter than Kurt at the least. "What's your name?" Kurt asked.

No reply.

Kurt sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you going to speak at all?"

Again, no reply.

"You can't talk, can you."

Kurt was surprised to find the boy obediently nodding his head quickly but in short. He bit his bottom lip, thinking. "Hold on, I'll be right back," Kurt said as he disappeared behind the storage door and found a pen and a fresh notebook. He came back, holding it out to the boy. "Well, since you're supposed to be my servant, this will be our ways of communicating. You can write, right?" Kurt asked.

The boy finally looked up at Kurt as he nodded his head. When his eyes fell on the pen and notebook, his eyes widened, now looking directly at Kurt. Kurt knew that look that the boy wore all too well. It was the same look Kurt had been given back at home when he had offered food to a starving child. The look that read, "This is mine?"

"It's yours. Take it," Kurt said with a small smile.

The boy seemed to cautiously take it. Kurt smiled once again, trying to make the boy feel safe. He obviously didn't. "Let's start out with what's your name."

The boy determinedly opened up to the first fresh page and clicked the pen, scribbling down his name. He then showed it to Kurt. Blaine was what it read.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, letting it roll over his tongue. The name was so perfect for such a beautiful Avox. "Well Blaine, I'm Kurt. I guess...urm...I'm your master and all. What can you do?"

Blaine tilted the notebook back towards himself and began writing once more. He then showed Kurt. Anything you want me to do, master.

Just then, Kurt noticed how Blaine's shirt sleeves slipped up his wrists to show raw marks left from the handcuffs. How long had Blaine been handcuffed? They looked so...bad. Kurt's eyes widened as he took the pen and notebook from Blaine and gingerly took his wrists, looking at them with concern. "We need to take care of this. I don't want you to be left with ugly marks from the stupid handcuffs. Here, I'll take up up to my apartment so we can take care of this," Kurt said as he then sat the pen and notebook on his counter and walked over to his store entrance, flipping the Open sign over to the Closed part. He then walked over to the door that led upstairs to his apartment. He looked back at Blaine to find him still there.

"Well come on," said Kurt.

Blaine quickly hurried after Kurt as Kurt turned back to his door and opened it. Blaine followed Kurt up the steps and to the apartment that sat above the store. He directed him over to the apartment bathroom and dug out his first-aid kit where he made Blaine roll his sleeves up so he could pour some peroxide over the raw marks. Kurt heard Blaine take in a hissing breath, but was surprised when he didn't quickly take his wrists back.

When Kurt had finished cleaning the wounds, he wrapped them in a cloth each, making sure that they weren't too tight or too loose. "There, does that feel better?"

Blaine's eyes were widened with surprise, like he was shocked with what Kurt had done for him. Blaine was so readable, it was crazy. Ignoring it, Kurt packed his first-aid kit back up and put it back in the sink cabinet. He showed Blaine out of the bathroom and into the living room.

"Well, I guess we can start things off easily. How about cooking? I've never been one to skip breakfast, but I did this morning, so I regret that. How about some simple sandwiches. Maybe egg salad? There's a package of boiled eggs in the fridge. You like egg salad, right?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's face had twisted from shocked to confused, as if he were asking, "Do I like food" Suddenly, he relaxed his face and quickly nodded his head, hurrying over to the kitchen where he began taking out different supplies. In no time, he had made a large bowl of egg salad. Kurt sat down at the kitchen island as Blaine stuck a knife and two spoons in the egg salad, placing a plate before Kurt and a bowl before himself. He found the loaf of bread and placed it before Kurt. He seemed to have been waiting for Kurt to take the first helping. Kurt had first thought Blaine as a guest, but then remembered how Blaine was a servant. An Avox, whatever that really meant. He would find out later.

When he had his sandwich made, he watched as Blaine carefully pilled egg salad into his bowl, as if he were waiting to be reprimanded at any given moment.

Why wasn't Blaine making himself a sandwich? Oh well. Everyone has their own way of eating their food, thought Kurt as he took a bite of his sandwich only to be shocked to find this egg salad sandwich the best he ever had. I guess it was true when people said that the capitol food was ten times as better than any district food. That was just added to his long list of new things to get used to during his life he was going to live here in Panem.