Or a month ago, at least.

Because one month ago exactly was the day that one Rory Flanagan had arrived at McKinley High and inserted himself inside of everyone’s lives. Kurt and Blaine’s specifically.

Some instinct, some inner impulse had driven Kurt and Blaine to take Rory under their wing, to care for the lonely Irish boy. Perhaps it was drawn upon their own experiences with bullying, with being the new kid in a big school. Maybe it was something else, something they would have never dreamed of, never even crossed their minds.

But I digress. Nonetheless, one particular day found the three of them sitting together at lunch, discussing the pros and cons of on-Broadway and off-Broadway musicals. Kurt and Blaine were in a heated debate about Wicked, original cast versus new, when something a biy out of the ordinary happened. “Listen, Blaine, no one, and I mean no one can replace Kristin Chenoweth as Galinda…how can you ever suggest such a thing?”

“Kurt, I never said she wasn’t good, I just think that—“

“How did you two meet?” Rory interrupted, cutting Blaine off suddenly. He looked up at them, his head resting on his hand, his eyes wide with honest curiosity. Kurt and Blaine exchanged looks, the randomness and peculiarity of the question hanging in the air around them. Rory backtracked, sensing the awkwardness. “I just—well, you guys never told me. I sit with you everyday, and I think it’s safe to say that we’re…f-friends now, so…” he stumbled over his words, his face blooming with a deep crimson blush.

Kurt shot an amused look to Blaine, shrugging as if to say “Eh, why not?” before proceeding to speak. “Um, well…I had gone to visit Dalton, Blaine’s old school, for some—“

“Visit? More like spy, if you ask me.” Blaine grinned, raising his eyebrows in faux-disbelief.

“Okay, well, yes, technically spying, but, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Kurt shot Blaine his bitchiest look, a hint of a smile lurking underneath, “I had gone to vis—spy on Blaine’s acapella choir group, the War—“

“Warblers,” Rory said, unaware that it was out loud. His eyes widened in panic as his mind finally registered Kurt’s confused expression.

“Y-yeah…the Warblers. How did you know that?” Kurt leaned in, his eyebrows furrowing in suspicion.

Rory rushed to regain his composure, panic now replaced with a blas�, nonchalant expression. “Oh, I did some research before coming here on rival show choir groups, so yeah…” He folded his hands in his lap, smiling brightly at Kurt. “Go on.”

Kurt’s confused look lingered, but he brushed it off after a second, labeling Rory’s moment of weirdness as, well…Rory-ness. “Oh-okay. Well, I got there, and had absolutely no idea where I was going, so naturally, I asked for help from someone. And it just so happened that that someone was Blaine.” Kurt smiled warmly at the memory, leaning in closer to Blaine as he continued. “I believe my exact first words to him were, ‘Excuse me, can I ask you a question? I’m new at this school.’ And then Mr. Helpful over turned around and said—“

Blaine finished Kurt’s sentence, grinning widely as he said, “’My name’s Blaine.’ And then Kurt, who was hopelessly cute and dazed says, ‘What exactly is going on?’ I explained to him how the Warblers were having an impromptu performance, and that it was pretty big. He was so surprised by that, I remember.”

“Well, of course I was. The glee club here was practically tortured for existing! Anyway, the next thing I knew, my hand was in his, and we were running down a hallway…to be honest that part was a bit of a blur to me….and then he was singing Teenage Dream, eyeing me suspiciously…” Kurt gave him a look, Blaine blushing slightly in return. “We went out for coffee afterward, I spilled my heart out to him…and the rest was history, you could say.” Kurt finished up his story, taking a sip of his ice tea.

“What time of day was it, if you remember?” Rory looked on inquisitively, honest interest clear in his face.
Surprisingly enough, this question surprised Kurt the least, brushing it off as some quirky foreign oddity. “Uh, it was after school, so maybe four-ish? I really don’t remember that well…”

Rory looked on dreamily, smiling widely, unusually happy. “Oh, okay, just wondering. Anyway, that was a lovely story. That was so sweet of Blaine to look out for you like that…take you under his wing, texting you ‘Courage’ and all that.”

Kurt nodded, pecking Blaine on the cheek. “Yeah, Blaine’s sort of amazing in that way…Wait. How did you know about the texts? I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.” Blaine, who was busy picking at his sandwich, lifted his head up to look at Rory apprehensively.

“I, uh,” Rory’s expression flickered from horror to confusion, and, quite suddenly, his hand swiped across the table spastically, knocking over Kurt’s drink all over his and Blaine’s lap. They both jumped back, Kurt letting out a small yelp. “Oh my goodness, I’m so so sorry, guys, I, I…”

Kurt stood up suddenly, pulling up Blaine with him. “It’s okay, Rory, don’t worry about it. We’re going to go wash up. See you at glee club, okay?” And with that, Kurt stalked off, Blaine following closely behind him, mumbling something about spare clothes in his locker.

Back at the lunch table, amidst a sea of raucous students, Rory’s horrified expression relaxed as he breathed a deep sigh of relief. Sitting back down at the table, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out, fingering it gingerly. “A spy, eh?” Rory chuckled, gripping the object tighter in his palm.

Though it was a little rusted and dented, the old pocket watch still had maintained its exquisite beauty; and even after 25 years, the time frozen at exactly 4:05.