It happened by accident.

Kurt often wondered how his life would have gone if the events of that day had never occurred. But they had, and now here he was, getting ready to set foot on his first red carpet.

Not as the star he’d always dreamed of being, but the next best thing: he would be arriving on the arm of the dreamiest teen sensation in years – Blaine Anderson.

Blaine’s eyes raked over his face, and Kurt hoped his expression didn’t belie his nerves. The limo they were riding in came to a stop, and the door opened. Kurt could already hear the clicking sounds of cameras and shouts of the crowd.

“You ready?” Blaine asked.

“I was born ready,” Kurt replied, grinning. Blaine stepped out of the limo, and the noise outside increased in volume, almost triple what it was once they realized he wasn’t alone. Kurt took Blaine’s outstretched hand and let his boyfriend pull him from the car.

Blaine offered his elbow, ever the gentleman, and Kurt took it in his hand, holding tightly.

Together, they stepped into the spotlight.

~**~

“Blaine! Over here, Blaine!” the photographers were shouting. He could feel Kurt’s hand gripping tightly to his arm.

“Stop and pose,” Blaine murmured in Kurt’s ear. The photographers went nuts, especially when Blaine leaned into Kurt and put his arm around him. Blaine’s PA, Julie, was right behind them and nudged them onward after a moment. He gave a wave to the cameras and headed for the interview line. This was it.

It was really going to happen.

He and Kurt were officially going public.

They were ushered toward Ryan Seacrest, who was interviewing one of the Kardashian sisters (Blaine could never keep them straight).

“You sure about this?” Blaine asked Kurt quietly.

“Yeah,” Kurt answered, though he looked a little terrified. “You?”

“Definitely,” Blaine replied.

“Up next we have Blaine Anderson from the hit TV show Dalton!” Ryan exclaimed, and Blaine slowly climbed the stairs up to where Ryan stood, Kurt’s hand in his.

“Hey man, what’s going on?” Ryan greeted them, shaking Blaine’s free hand.

“It’s going good,” Blaine told him.

“I’ll just bet it is,” Ryan continued, looking into the camera for a moment, and then back at Blaine. “You’re up for an Emmy tonight for Dalton, as Best Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series.”

“I am,” Blaine confirmed, still unable to believe it himself. “I still can’t quite believe it,” he admitted with a laugh.

“And the rumor mill has just been churning about you in recent weeks,” Ryan pushed. “Any comment on that?”

“People like to talk.” Blaine smiled. “Who are we to stop them?” Ryan nodded.

“And I see that you’re not alone tonight.” Ryan gestured to Kurt.

“No, I’m not,” Blaine smiled his most charming smile, pulling lightly on Kurt to move him forward.

“This is Kurt.”

“Nice to meet you, Kurt,” Ryan held out his hand, and Kurt shook it. “A little birdie told me the story of how you two got together.”

Blaine and Kurt shared a smile at Ryan’s choice of words.

“Care to share it with the world?”

November 2010

“And that’s why I think Blaine Anderson is one of the most influential people of our time,” Santana read over Kurt’s shoulder, her voice mocking him right in his ear. “God, Hummel. If you ever meet this guy, you’ll cream your pants, won’t you?”

“Shut up, Satan, and go away.” Kurt blushed furiously as he hit the save button on his Word document and then hit print. This paper was half his sociology grade. The topic: the most influential person in the world, alive or dead, and why.

Kurt had chosen to write about his favorite actor, Blaine Anderson.

Blaine Anderson, star of the hit TV show Dalton; multiple platinum recording artist on iTunes. Blaine Anderson, with his curly dark hair and perfect features. Blaine Anderson, who was genuine, sweet and - most importantly - very, very gay.

Growing up in Lima, Ohio and attending Homophobia High (also known as William McKinley High School), Kurt knew very few gay people. In fact, he only knew one.

Himself.

Maybe that was the reason Kurt had latched on to Blaine (and James, his character) so obsessively. Until landing his role on Dalton, the seventeen-year-old actor had been bullied for his sexuality, just like Kurt was. Of course, now Blaine was famous, and all that had changed for him.

Kurt never imagined that there would actually be an out and proud gay teenager on television. The fact that he was being played by Blaine, the youngest out gay actor in Hollywood had attracted all kinds of attention.

Everyone wanted to know everything about the charismatic Blaine Anderson – especially whom he was dating.

“Earth to Hummel,” Santana snapped.

“Sorry,” Kurt blushed. “I got lost in thought.”

“If you’re going to fantasize about your boy toy, me and Britts can go,” Santana replied. “We know how important masturbation is for boys.”

“Oh, my God.” Kurt covered his face with his hands, turning around in his chair. “Why am I friends with you two again?”

“Because we’re awesome and popular,” Brittany spoke up from her spot on the bed, where she was leafing through one of Kurt’s fashion magazines. “And we’d make out with you if you asked.”

The two of them were the picture of school spirit in their cheerleading uniforms. Kurt would normally be wearing his as well, but he’d struck a deal with Coach Sylvester so that two days a week he could wear his normal clothes. Kurt prided himself on keeping up with all of the latest fashion trends, and the Cheerios uniform was not one of them.

In addition to being on the Cheerios, the three of them were also in glee club together. The two activities were Kurt’s only bright spots at High School Hell (which was also the title of his future memoir – which he planned on writing as soon as he was famous, specifically for the purpose of eviscerating every last one of his bullies in print). Otherwise, Kurt did his best to keep his head held up high among a sea of Neanderthals.

Kurt was about to retort that it would be a cold day in Hell before that would happen (he’d finally gotten the strength to come out the of the closet the year before, and there was no way he was going back in), when his Twitter page finally refreshed. The newest tweet caught his attention and he actually gasped out loud.

“Oh, my God,” he said for the second time.

“What?” Santana leaned back over to get a look. “Holy shit!” Her eyes widened. “Is that…” she trailed off.

“I think so,” Kurt replied, eyes wide too. “Blaine Anderson just tweeted his phone number.”

“We should make sure,” Santana grinned, grabbed Kurt’s cell phone from where it lay on his desk.

“What?” he snapped. “Santana, don’t!” It was too late. She wore a delighted grin and held the phone out so he could hear.

“It’s ringing!” she crowed.

“Hang up!” Kurt hissed.

“Hell no!” Santana refused. “This is a golden opportunity to get you want you want.”

“Santana-“ he started to protest again, but was cut off when a voice spoke from the phone.

“Hello?”

~**~

Blaine Anderson was on top of the world. He’d just left the recording studio, having just finished recording a song for the next episode of Dalton. As he slipped into the driver’s seat of his car, he pulled out his phone and opened his internet browser. While waiting for Twitter to load, he turned his car on, letting it warm up. The radio blared on, one of his favorite songs, and Blaine couldn’t help but sing along as he typed up his latest tweet (Just recorded the best song, you guys will love it!!!) before reading his @ replies.

There were a couple of fan tweets he replied to, responses guaranteed to turn up on Tumblr and LiveJournal and God knows where else, sending all the fangirls into a tizzy. Yeah, he kind of enjoyed that a little.

There was also a direct message in his inbox from Nick, one of his fellow Dalton cast mates and his good friends. (Hey man, just got a new phone, and they can’t import my numbers – message me your number so I can add it!)

Blaine chuckled, replying with his phone number and putting his phone on the seat next to him, before putting the car in drive.

His phone rang a couple of times in the next ten minutes, but each time hung up before he could answer it – all numbers he didn’t recognize. When it rang again, Blaine answered it on the first ring.

“Hello?” He tried not to sound cranky – one never knew who could be calling with a job offer. Silence met his ear. “Hello?”

“Um, hi,” a voice finally spoke on the other line.

“Can I help you?” Blaine tried not to snap. It sounded like a girl, maybe.

“Is…is this Blaine Anderson?” the voice asked.

“Yes,” Blaine answered. “And who are you?”

“Kurt,” came the reply. Okay, not a girl then. “Um, I don’t…” Kurt trailed off.

Blaine sighed. “Look, I don’t know who you are, or how you got my number, but just tell me what you want.”

“God, this makes me sound like a stalker,” Kurt stumbled out in a rush. “Okay, you need to check your last tweet.”

“What are you talking about?” Blaine felt something like dread coil in his stomach. Who was this guy?

“You’re last Twitter post was your phone number,” Kurt finally said. “And I know what it says about me that I called it, but I didn’t want to, my friend dialed the phone and you answered, I didn’t know-"

“Whoa!” Blaine exclaimed, pulling into the next parking lot he saw, which happened to be for a fast food restaurant. “Slow down. I tweeted my phone number?”

“Yes,” Kurt confirmed.

“Shit,” Blaine swore. His direct message to Nick hadn’t been a private. It had been a public tweet. No wonder his phone had been blowing up - of course people would call him.

“I didn’t mean to be creepy with the whole calling you thing,” Kurt continued, talking softly. “Honestly, I can’t believe you haven’t hung up yet.”

“Well, you seem nice and relatively normal, and you let me know about my screw up, so…”

“This is kind of… surreal,” Kurt laughed, and Blaine kind of relished the sound. This guy had a nice laugh. “Just ah… do me a favor and stay off Tumblr, okay?” Blaine groaned.

“Oh, no,” He smacked a hand over his face, already imagining the fangirl reactions.

“Yeah,” Kurt laughed. “None of them would ever believe this was happening, by the way.”

“I think I can take care of that,” Blaine murmured.

“I should… probably let you go so you can go get your number changed,” Kurt sounded reluctant to hang up, and for some reason, Blaine felt the same way. But he couldn’t let his phone number go unchanged, or the phone calls would drive him insane.

“Yeah,” Blaine breathed out. “Thank you, Kurt. I’m glad it was you on the phone.”

“You’re welcome… Blaine,” Kurt replied. “Thank you for not thinking I’m a stalker.” Blaine chuckled. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Blaine hung up the phone, and called his service provider immediately. Twenty minutes later he had a new phone number, and five minutes after that he was home, rushing to his computer.

He turned it on and waited while it loaded. The first thing he did was send a mass text to the cast and crew of the show so they had his new number. Then he sent Nick an email letting him know what happened (Nick, you bastard, see what you made me do?). Once his computer was up, he signed back into Twitter, deleted the phone number tweet, and wrote a new one (Sorry about that guys. Just wanted to say thanks to Kurt for giving me the heads up. You rock!).

He got a reply email from Nick (Blaine, you dumbass), and then checked Twitter again.

He had one new @ reply from @kurthummel (You’re welcome.)

~**~

Kurt was staring at his phone in shock. Santana and Brittany were staring at him. None of them seemed to be able to find words.

“Pinch me,” Kurt finally stuttered out.

Santana blinked and then replied with, “What?”

“Pinch me,” Kurt told her, looking up from his phone to meet her gaze. “Prove to me I’m not dreaming.” She reached over and pinched the skin on his arm, twisting roughly. “Ouch!” he cried, and then started laughing. “That actually happened, oh, my God.”

Santana and Brittany finally left, after they’d discussed the phone call to its limits, and he extracted a promise from them not to tell. After all, who would believe him?

He was so unusually cheerful during dinner that his dad actually asked him if he was feeling okay. Kurt had passed it off as a good mood and escaped to his room as soon as he could – even skipping his favorite dessert, much to Finn’s happiness (because he got to have Kurt’s piece).

He logged into Tumblr, determined to stay away from Twitter and the temptation to tweet Blaine about their earlier phone call. Kurt refused to be one of those fans that stalked any celebrity who gave them attention. He gasped out loud as his dashboard came up (he was going that a lot today) – his dash, for pages, was nothing but Blaine’s accidental tweet as well as a new one (Sorry about that guys. Just wanted to say thanks to Kurt for giving me the heads up. You rock!).

There was a lot of speculation on just who “Kurt” was, and Kurt read it with his eyes wide.

Who the Hell is Kurt? A Fan?

Maybe it’s his hidden boyfriend.

Hah, I like that idea. Blaine and Kurt are totally fucking.

Ship all the things!

Kurt shuddered. He’d never really indulged in shipping actual people together, but now that it was his name up there with Blaine’s… something inside him twisted. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d loaded Twitter, and typed out a reply to Blaine. He kept it short, simple, and to the point (You’re welcome).