Instead, he had his eyes fixed on Kurt, who didn’t look up from his phone. He was tapping away at the screen, sending email after email to Tina, his PR team, the employees who were working hard to put together the final sketches on his line, any shareholders who contacted him and wanted to stick their noses in business that wasn’t their own. Occasionally he put the phone to his ear but the phone line was nearly always engaged and he returned to sending emails.

Jeff didn’t even ask if he could park in the last space in the car park behind hummels: whoever’s space it belonged to hadn’t claimed it for the day and, as he muttered to Nick when they left the car, it was fair game. Kurt didn’t even look away from his phone to step out of the low sports car. He did, however, anticipate Blaine’s helping hand. Blaine held it out and Kurt took it without looking, using the younger man to lever himself out of the car. He didn’t let go afterwards either, like the contact with Blaine was helping him with whatever he was reading at the time.

Tina had been waiting for them and she too was busy tapping away at the iPad in her hands. When four people walked into the backroom of hummels, she spared a nod for Jeff and Nick and then thrust the iPad into Blaine’s hands.

Nick peered over Blaine’s shoulder as the two of them looked down at what Tina had been loading onto the screen. It was the webpage of a gossip website that both of them knew didn’t have the greatest reputation. This was the type of website that would highlight people’s roots and circle the blackheads or changes to their complexion rather than compliment their outfit for the red carpet event or praise them on their actual work.

The main article on the website was the one about Kurt. A large picture of him walking through the airport from their recent flight from Ohio drew Blaine’s eyes and he tapped the link to read the article itself.

‘The name on my hand is someone too famous for me to meet: but I just want him to know I’m here’

“I hate the titles they put on these things.” Jeff muttered, his voice carrying to Nick and Blaine only. Kurt and Tina were in hushed but frantic conversation and everyone working in the back of the store was simultaneously avoiding looking in their direction and staring unabashed.

Blaine scrolled down until he got to the body of the article, seeing it written in one line paragraphs and pictures of Kurt interspersing the words to make it seem longer.

‘Like everyone, I’ve known the name of my soul mate since I was going through puberty. After looking for years, I’ve finally found him.

But I found him too late for me to meet him in a bar or at work. He’s already famous so I can’t just walk up to him and say hi.

Not that I haven’t tried.’

Those were the words Liam Phillips said when asked if he’d met his soul mate yet. The name on his hand reads ‘Kurt Hummel’ and Liam knows that the fashion designer in New York is his soul mate.

He’s just never been able to meet him.

‘I’ve tried to find out where he’s going to be so I can go up to him and tell him who I am’, Liam said earnestly, ‘But of course that’s hard enough.’

‘The people who worked at his stores weren’t helpful either; turning me away without even seeing the proof I’ve got scarred onto my hand.’

‘I know who my soul mate is and I know it’s him. I just want him to know that I’m here and he doesn’t need to look anymore.’

Kurt and his fashion house hummels have declined to comment.

The iPad was being steadied on one hand as Blaine’s other hand was covering his mouth. Next to him, Jeff was also in shock and Nick was being decidedly unhelpful and sniggering to himself.

Deep down, Blaine knew that the way the article was written was down to the website and the journalist who conducted the interview. But the sheer thought that someone was trying to contact Kurt and find out where he was to claim he was his soul mate…? The idea sent a shiver down his spine.

“‘I’ve tried to find out where he’s going to be so I can go up to him and tell him who I am’,” he whispered. That may have been the wording of the writer and not the wording of this Liam Phillips but the sentiment would have been a hundred percent true.

Tina’s voice carried down the short distance between where she was still stood with Kurt and where Blaine was motionless. “The worst thing about this all is that it’s true. I recognise him from the store. He’s been here a few times and while I haven’t spoken to him, I’m sure other people have.”

“But they know-?” There was only outrage in Kurt’s voice, no nerves and no shock.

Tina nodded. “They know to turn people away if they claim they are your soul mate. Even those who’ve got a genuine scar with your name on it.”

“How many Kurt Hummels are there in the world?” Nick asked, his voice loud in the silence of the backroom.

Tina was silent and Kurt just shook his head, turning back to his phone to type another email. It was Blaine who answered, having known the answer since the moment Facebook got so popular that you weren’t a person if you didn’t have a profile page.

“There were fourteen in the US.” His voice was devoid of emotion. If he was honest, he didn’t know of another time that he felt this blank, this numb. “I checked a few years ago because I was curious.”

“So that’s thirteen other people who his soul mate could be.” Kurt said, “And that’s if his mark is genuine at all.”

But Blaine was shaking his head. “It’s more than thirteen others.” Four blank looks were his only reply. “There were fourteen people named Kurt Hummel on Facebook. That doesn’t include other Kurt Hummels who aren’t on there.”

“We know why he’s chosen you,” Tina said to Kurt as the phone in her hand started to ring. She ignored the call. “You’re you. And-” she briefly flicked her eyes to Blaine “-you haven’t told anyone out of your trusted circle that you’ve found your soul mate.”

“So instead of giving me the decency of privacy, I get some obnoxious, ambitious little…” He looked down at the article that was loaded onto a second iPad he’d taken from Tina, “I mean look at him! His hair looks like it hasn’t know that shampoo is a good thing and you can’t even tell if he’s got a nose. He’d be my soul mate when the kazoo is added to the symphony orchestra.”

“What do you want to do about it?” Tina’s voice was low and the people in the room, even those eavesdropping while pretending to work or look for extra stock, waited on bated breath to hear what Kurt was going to say.

“I don’t want people to look at me and think that my soul mate is someone who looks like he couldn’t get dressed in proper clothes if he had a map to navigate the closet.” Nick gave a quiet snort at Kurt’s words and Blaine bit his lip to hide a smile.

Kurt walked a little further down the hall towards his office but only took a few steps before turning around and facing Tina once more.

“When did Jane say she was calling?” He asked, one hand on his hip and his outraged expression turned to determination.

Tina flicked through the calendar on her phone. “Actually tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll talk to her then. She still likes me and hopefully I can persuade her to change the piece from an article to an interview instead.” Kurt brandished the iPad he still held. “And Marie Claire has a far better reputation than this place does.”

He stormed down the hall. Blaine hurried after him, clapping Nick on the shoulder in farewell and pushing the iPad into Tina’s hands. She had turned to Jeff to talk about something but Blaine didn’t stay to pay attention to whether it was about this or about the upcoming job.

The office door was ajar and Kurt was standing up behind his chair, gripping the back of it with both hands in a tight hold that turned his knuckles white. He was staring at the wooden desk without blinking and Blaine pushed the door closed gently so he wasn’t startled.

“Are you ok?” He asked in a quiet voice. The answer was obviously no but how do you approach your soul mate who’s just had a rumour of this magnitude started about him.

Kurt shook his head and then ran his hand through his hair. He stopped half way through and untangled his hand carefully, pushing pieces that had fallen out of place back to where they should be. Before he replied to Blaine, Kurt opened one of the drawers of his rarely used computer desk and pulled out a can of hairspray. On cue, Blaine and Kurt held their breaths for the time it took Kurt to pray his hair back into place.

“I’m just so fed up that people are more concerned with whose name is written on the palm of my hand than the clothes I make.” Kurt was still standing but Blaine pulled one of the rolling chairs out from under the desk and took a seat. He’d stay for as long as he had to so that he knew Kurt felt better about this.

“It’s like what happened to Patti LuPone. Before she married Matthew Johnston, that’s all she was asked. No one cared about her going to London and playing Fantine in the original cast.” Kurt grasped the back of his chair again and then forcefully pushed away from it, making the plastic rattle.

“Soul mates are supposed to be each other’s perfect match.” Kurt gestured to the iPad. “He’s beyond not my perfect match and I pity the real Kurt who’s his soul mate. If you had ever done something like this to gain my attention, I don’t…”

He licked his lips, shook his head and then caught Blaine’s never-moving gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to blame you for something you haven’t even done.”

Kurt moved round the desk and perched on the edge of it, crossing his ankles. He reached out and took hold of Blaine’s hands. “I’m glad I found you. Especially before something like this happened, which I’m sorry to say was bound to happen at some point.”

Blaine gave no reply bar stroking his thumbs over Kurt’s little fingers, the only part of his hands that his thumb could reach. He was thinking exactly what Kurt was thinking: if Blaine hadn’t come to the store and showed his mark to Tina, who knew what name was scarred on Kurt’s hand, then Blaine would have been in this very position. And worse: if this article had been written before Blaine had stepped into the store to ask, then the likelihood of Blaine even being taken seriously would have been less than zero.

“It’s not your fault, Kurt. You know that right?” He said. He tugged on their joined hands to try and get Kurt to look up from where he’d been focusing on a point on Blaine’s cardigan and hadn’t stopped staring.

The only response was a very small nod. “Anyone with a name vaguely similar to yours will want you to be theirs. Who wouldn’t want the great Kurt Hummel to be their soul mate?”

That got a small smile appearing on Kurt’s lips. “That’s true.” He said in a whisper.

Blaine leant in closer and squeezed both of Kurt’s hands. “I’m certainly not complaining that you’re mine.” That got another smile out of Kurt, bigger this time. “What are you going to do?”

“First of all, not reply to any rumours or random questions shouted out by the paparazzi that are bound to be outside my apartment and my store tomorrow. I might even go to work at my first store as they might not go there. And then, I’m going to do a real interview and casually slip into conversation that I’ve found my soul mate and he isn’t someone who had to go to the media just to let me know who he was.”

“A real interview with … Jane?” Blaine hadn’t heard Kurt talk about anyone named Jane before but from the way Kurt had asked about her and Tina’s immediate response, she was important and she could help.

“If I was Dorothy when she just arrived in Oz,” Kurt’s voice was lighter now, lighter than it had been since they left the restaurant only an hour ago, “then Jane Goodman would be my Glinda.” He paused, seemingly giving Jane Goodman that respectful silence she seemingly deserved. A magical saviour of someone new to a strange land was someone who deserved that silence.

“I worked for her at Marie Claire for six months on a paid internship.” Now Blaine knew exactly who she was and why she was a bit like a magical saviour for a floundering Kurt nearly three years ago. “And she agreed to write a piece about hummels for me when I mentioned that I designed clothes.”

“So she’s like your fairy godmother.”

Kurt’s smile was blinding and it lifted Blaine’s spirits to see his soul mate smiling like that after scowling for a while. “Exactly! She wanted to write a follow-up piece anyway, talking about my store and the line that’ll come out next year and I can ask her to slip in an interview or a statement where I say that no, this man who decided that wearing stripes in red and that shade of orange on a sweater to an interview shoot where he was claiming to be my soul mate is in fact not my soul mate.”

“And Marie Claire is believable.” Blaine repeated what Kurt had said from outside the office, understanding why he had mentioned the magazine before now. Kurt nodded his agreement.

“Everything will be fine.” Blaine tugged on their hands again and this time Kurt looked right at him, blue eyes boring into amber. “You’ll see.”

--

Realising that he had a final in a few days’ time, Blaine had rushed into his room and closed the door on the hundred curious faces who peered at him once he had left Kurt at hummels an hour or two later. He’d come out of the office when Kurt had to make a phone call to someone in his PR department who had wanted to make a statement immediately but he’d found that Jeff and Nick had left. So Blaine had taken the subway home and had tried to keep his thoughts wandering to the article. Tried and failed.

He couldn’t help thinking of the flip side of this whole mess. The name on Kurt’s hand read Blaine Anderson so there was no possibility of Kurt or anyone in hummels taking this article seriously. But if Blaine had walked away from the store that fateful Tuesday morning like a part of him had wanted to do, then he might not be sitting on the train having left his soul mate after a date. He might still be twiddling his thumbs in the common room of their dorms while arguing with Nick, Sugar and Jennifer that the Kurt Hummel wasn’t his Kurt Hummel.

And certainly this article would have stopped any chance of him walking into Kurt’s store and talking to one of the only people who could have helped him find Kurt.

Blaine had spread out his notes and books, sat cross-legged on his bed and taken off his bow tie. But the work remained untouched and the pens remained capped and inside the closed pencil case.

Would he have ever done what this guy had done? Sold his story to the media just so he could get hold of someone famous and let them know he had their name on his hand? Blaine knew that he probably wouldn’t have but he’d done desperate things before. Singing to a boy at his workplace when neither he nor Jeremiah had each other’s names on their hands was not a quiet gesture of a crush. He had taken the diplomatic route and struck gold when he’d spoken to Tina but if Blaine was honest to himself, if he had truly believed Kurt to be his soul mate and had been turned away at the store, his next move would have been a loud song sung straight to the designer at some public event that would have embarrassed both Kurt and him.

Was this article any different? Apart from the fact that Blaine would have at least had the luck to have his name on Kurt’s palm as opposed to this Liam Phillips who didn’t.

And then, Blaine’s mind jumped from one thought path to another, what about Liam’s real Kurt Hummel? How would that Kurt, maybe a teacher or an accountant or a trucker, feel about seeing the man whose name was written on his hand being splashed around the gossip columns trying to get Kurt Hummel, designer, to admit to being his soul mate.

“Right that’s it.” Nick’s voice broke right through Blaine’s musings and he looked up at his friend in surprise. The shut door normally kept people out but Nick stood in the very much open doorway, clutching his laptop to his chest.

“What?” Still half thinking about what had happened that day, Blaine hadn’t caught up to speed with what just happened before him.

“I called your name three times, offered you a free bow tie, told you that your gel had spontaneously caught on fire and then said Kurt was here doing a striptease in your old Dalton uniform.” Nick said like he was listing off dates in an oral history exam. “You didn’t even flinch. Put your work away – yes I know we have an exam in a few days – and watch this with me.”

It took a few moments before Blaine conceded defeat and he bundled his papers and books onto the floor by his bed. His head wasn’t in the Industrial Revolution anyway. He’d already decided on getting a taxi to Kurt’s that evening, cost be damned, and staying with him to make sure he was ok. His finals could wait: Kurt was far more important.

Nick opened his laptop and a streamed episode of America’s Next Top Model was the open tab in his internet. Blaine said nothing but raised a single eyebrow at his friend.

“Jeff’s in this episode.” Nick even sounded defensive. Sugar was the one who watched this programme like it was her lifeline and Blaine had watched it occasionally, mostly with her. But Nick loudly and proudly declared his dislike of the TV show, which had gone on for far too many season before admitting defeat.

“How do you even know that?” Blaine still pulled one of his pillows up and rested it between his back and the wooden headboard. The other he offered to Nick who copied Blaine’s action between his back and the white wall.

“Sugar told me she saw him when she’d been watching reruns.” Nick turned to look at Blaine before he pressed play. “She’s nearly over ignoring you, by the way. She wanted to know when the next big event was so she could plan her outfit once you assured her a ticket.”

Blaine gave a lopsided smile and settled into his pillow. Nick hit the space bar and the familiar voice of Tyra Banks filled the quiet room. Nick skipped through most of the episode as he didn’t care about any of the girls competing the cycle while Blaine was ashamed to realise he recognised not only the cycle but the exact episode.

“Here.” Nick pointed at the screen and, sure enough, Jeff was standing there with another male model, hands in his pockets and smiling at the contestants with a nervous grin. Nick laughed as his soul mate was introduced by Mr Jay (not that Blaine would admit to knowing who each person was on this programme, especially not to Nick) and then watched him pose with the wannabe models.

Doing nothing but spending time with his friend and watching trivial television actually steadied Blaine’s mind. It wasn’t whirling at a hundred miles an hour anymore and only the occasional thought of ‘that could have been me’ and ‘I hope Kurt really is ok about all this’ ran through his mind.

“I was really impressed by some of the girls today.” Jeff on the computer was saying. Nick tipped his head to the side and smiled wistfully. Blaine was like that too when listening to Kurt’s voice except he was listening to Kurt’s voice talk to him rather than to an interviewer on a programme filmed years ago. “I think they’ll make good models. Chantal especially as she worked well with what she was given and she had the hardest scenario to work with.”

As soon as the scenery of LA flashed by on the computer, Nick hit the space bar and turned to Blaine. That was all Jeff’s involvement so that was all Nick wanted to watch. Blaine looked confusedly from the laptop now stuck on a blurred shot of the lights of LA to Nick, who had twisted on the bed to face him.

“What are you going to do once Kurt tells everyone he’s found his soul mate?” he asked. His face was devoid of smiles and his eyes showed how serious he was being. “Jeff is hardly as famous as Kurt, Blaine, but even I’ve been getting looks and those pictures of us in the park had both our names in the caption.”

Sitting up straight, Blaine nodded. “I know. It’s hardly going to be easy going through my last year with photographers taking pictures of me leaving my classes but I’ll deal with it when it comes.” He shrugged. “Cooper can make good on his word and give me some real tips on how to deal with the press.”

Now Nick’s serious expression cracked into a lopsided smile. “Would he give you tips from his own experience or is this advice given from others?”

“I hope others.” Blaine went to move off the bed, already mentally ticking off everything he had to stuff into his bag before leaving for Kurt’s. Unfortunately, that included the work he’d easily given up on when Nick had turned up at his door.

Nick stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I just want to make sure you’ll be ok. We’ve all seen what happens when celebrities admit they are together or not.”

“Like the speculation about Katy Perry and Russell Brand? I know.”

“It’ll probably be a huge fallout.” Nick’s hand tightened. “Just be aware of that.”

When Nick took his hand away, Blaine stood and dumped all of his papers into his rucksack. “Since when did you become an expert on what happens when gossip-worthy stories break into the media?” The teasing tone was evident and the two shared a smile while Blaine hurried to his closet and pulled out some clothes. Clothes that would probably not be worn as Kurt would find something else for Blaine to wear.

“Just going on what we’ve seen and what Jeff told me.” Nick shrugged. “It’s probably a good thing that both of our soul mates are famous. We can navigate the shark infested waters over our last year together.”

“And it’ll be a good story to tell our grandchildren one day.”

“Come on man! Neither of us is even living without our soul mates – can we wait before talking about grandchildren!” Nick laughed and threw the pillow that had been behind his back at Blaine’s head. Blaine ducked and threw his arm up for protection and the pillow bounced off his bent elbow to land on the floor.

Nick gave Blaine a hand grabbing the essentials needed for one night and when he left the dorm, he walked down the hall to eyes staring through open rooms, occupants giving up revising for the moment that the person whose rumoured status of being Kurt Hummel’s soul mate was in question.

--

When he arrived at Kurt’s apartment, Blaine literally took the cooking utensils out of Kurt’s hand and directed him to sit at the tall chair by the counter. Kurt had obviously been cooking for a while as brownies sat on a cooling rack and a box of cookies filled with three different types of chocolate were stack away in a box. The ingredients for a cheesecake were sitting on the counter and Kurt had been beating the eggs into the cheese mixture when Blaine had walked into the apartment.

“You just want dessert for dinner?” He asked, starting to beat the eggs instead, raising an eyebrow at Kurt.

He shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He reached out, opened the box and pulled out a cookie. Kurt took a large bite and spoke around the chocolate: “I’ve been cooking since I got home. It was the only thing I could think of to take my mind off what happened.”

Blaine eyed all the baked goods. “I can tell.” He looked down at the bowl in his hands. He’d never made cheesecake like this before. “What happens to this now?”

Kurt stood, despite Blaine previous warning not to get up and to let Blaine do the work, and pulled a cooking tin closer towards them. It had also been prepared and a crumbled biscuit base was inside, waiting for the cake mix to be poured on top.

“Pour the mix in that.” He instructed. As Blaine did as he was told, Kurt bustled around the kitchen, pulling open the over door and covering his hands in large oven gloves. “Then it cooks for half an hour, we turn off the over and leave it for another hour and then we eat.”

They spent that hour and a half lying on the couch together, watching old reruns of reality TV shows together. Blaine was sitting upright and Kurt had laid out on the couch, his head resting comfortably on Blaine’s chest and Blaine’s arm wrapped around his body. Kurt was playing absentmindedly with Blaine’s fingers, running his fingertips up and down their lengths and then twining their hands together every so often.

Blaine was gazing down at his soul mate with a small smile on his face. Despite the upset and the rumours now flying frantically across the country, Kurt still managed to look composed and even serene here. His eyelashes were brushing his cheek whenever he blinked. A small smile was present on his lips even in the scenes that weren’t particularly funny. When Blaine reached out and rubbed the top of his head, mussing up a few strands of hair, Kurt looked up at him with a raised eyebrow as if to say ‘you know you shouldn’t be messing up my hair’.

They ate the cheesecake also sitting on the couch, Blaine moaning at how good the recipe was. His stomach was protesting, asking why he was eating desert with no dinner, but Kurt had no desire to cook something substantial.

“Is cheesecake ok for dinner?” He even asked, tucking into his second piece, a guilty glint in his eyes that told Blaine that whatever the answer was, he was going to have cheesecake for dinner. So Blaine nodded and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s closed lips, feeling them curl into a smile before he pulled away.

A little while later, they had exhausted the reruns of reality TV and had settled down with the Sound of Music on. While Maria was dancing through the streets with Captain Von Trapp’s children singing Do-Re-Mi, Kurt turned to Blaine and spoke in a small voice.

“I’m glad you’re here tonight.” He said quietly, almost like he didn’t want to say the confession at all.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Blaine tapped Kurt on the head once, twice and stared deep into his eyes when Kurt turned his face upwards to look. “I wanted to make sure you were ok with this whole mess, and I wasn’t going to do that from my dorm while you’re here.”

The only reply Kurt gave was to stretch up and give Blaine a kiss, then he settled back on Blaine’s lap and started singing along to the song. Blaine gave another small smile at his soul mate, so comfortable at the moment after a day and probably a good few weeks of turmoil and rumours, and then joined in with the singing.

--

Kurt had a delegation of paparazzi waiting for him when he arrived at hummels the next day. He’d loitered at home, changing his outfit three times before finally settling on one: citing unconvincing reasons like the top was too short to go with these pants, and his scarf didn’t match the coat enough. Blaine had said nothing but his presence helped calm the nerves Kurt had racing through his body. Eventually, Blaine was dropped off at his dorm – Kurt wanted to drive him the whole way there and didn’t listen to a work of protest about it being in the opposite direction – and Kurt made his way into hummels.

The paparazzi started their clamouring as soon as they saw one long leg complete with black Doc Martens leave his car and Kurt took the last moment inside the comfort of the vehicle to slip sunglasses onto his nose. Carrying his sketch book in the crook of one arm and a bag held in the other, Kurt kept his head down and walked determinedly across the car park until he reached the back entrance to his store. How he wished he could turn around and give them a piece of his mind, exclaiming loudly that his soul mate would never resort to going to the media just to find him and that if Kurt had had Liam Phillips written on his left palm, don’t they think he’d have reached out when Liam first made enquiries?

He stopped at the entrance and turned on the spot. Sensing he was about to speak, the paparazzi stopped throwing questions in his direction, held out their microphones and their pens poised over their small notebooks to transcribe what he’d say.

“I’d like to say that I will not address the rumours surrounding the identity of my soul mate.” Kurt kept his voice calm and forcefully polite. “The identity of my soul mate, of anybody’s soul mate, is for that person alone and I ask that you respect that for me.”

“Kurt, can you tell us how he’s got your name on your hand if he isn’t yours?”

Wow was that a real question? Kurt resisted the urge for sarcasm but couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at the reporter who asked that. Did he really think that he was the only Kurt Hummel in the world?”

“I will not take questions at this time but I do wish this man all the luck in finding his soul mate. As I hope he’d wish me luck finding mine.”

Kurt slipped in through the open door and then closed with the enough force that if it had been any lighter than the heavy fire doors, it would have slammed shut. He leant against the cold metal for a moment, head tipped back and brain working. Should he have even said that? They’ll probably type it up and make out like he was loudly shooting down this man’s hopes and dreams about finding a famous soul mate.

Dreams that should be shot down because he was not Kurt’s. Blaine wouldn’t do something like this and Kurt had hoped that public would know that Kurt’s true soul mate wouldn’t stoop that low.

“Mr Hummel?” A quiet voice of one of the secretaries sitting at the main desk in the backroom was holding the phone close to her chest, on hand covering the mouthpiece. “I’ve got Jane Goodman on the phone. She said she knows she’s ringing early but she can’t wait?”

Kurt nodded and said: “I’ll take it in my office. Thank you.”

He hurried down the corridor and unlocked his office door, balancing the sketchbook under his arm and hearing the phone ringing inside. He laid his sketchbook and bag on his computer desk, took off his jacket and sat down in the rolling chair all within a minute before picking up the phone and holding it to his ear.

“You’ve certainly had a traumatic few days, Kurt.” Jane’s cheerful voice sounded through the phone line and Kurt couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t even bother saying hello but waded straight into the conversation with that statement. “I was following. You need to teach that boy of yours how to make a statement to the press: or rather how not to make one. He brought this on you know. His statement saying you were ‘just friends’, if anyone believed that, meant there was no statement from you or hummels that the new article would have contradicted.”

“He’s had no contact with the press before,” Kurt tried to argue even though her words made perfect sense with the timing. He’d just never blame Blaine for a side effect of his fame. He reached out and pulled the sketchbook off the computer desk and moved it closer, not opening it just at the moment but getting it where it needed to be. “I’m not surprised his first statement was less than official sounding.”

“Besides, I’m sure you’ve come up with a brilliant plan to shoot those rumours down.” Jane laughed and interrupted herself. “Or if not, then I’ve thought of one myself. There’s an event in two weeks that I want to invite you to: a party hosted by me and my department. You should bring your boy to that and declare that you’re soul mates with one of the news crews outside.”

Kurt, who had been unwinding the scarf from around his neck to reposition it correctly, stopped. His eyes widened and a smile grew on his face. “That’s a great idea, Jane. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. So about this piece, I was thinking we started talking about your new store and how it’s changed the face of hummels. We cover the back story, including my involvement of course-”

“Jane?”

“Yes dear?”

“Um, I was also hoping to say something about the rumours in the article you wanted to write.” Kurt waited for a moment. He had worked for Jane for six months and had witnessed her shooting down an idea many a time. A small woman, she still commanded the same attention and fear that his old cheerleading coach had in high school. That’s probably why Kurt liked Jane so much: she reminded him of home. She would immediately interrupt whoever was unlucky enough to have spoken. So the fact that her voice wasn’t heard at the moment was a good sign.

“I don’t want to tell the world that Blaine is my soul mate on the black and white pages in a magazine. But I really don’t want the world thinking that my soul mate is someone who has gone to the press and claimed to be him.” He threw his eyes up to the ceiling. While he knew a scandal would happen at some point in his career, why did it have to be this one? And why now, when he and Blaine were on the edge of a knife with the media already?

“So I write a statement you’ve given me into my article saying how you’ve found your soul mate and you’re very happy,” Jane correctly surmised, Kurt giving noises of agreement with every third word she said, “and then at the press event I’m hosting you introduce your mysterious soul mate. I like it.”

“Great!”

“So Kurt,” he heard her moving around in her chair and clicking a pen to open it and take notes. “What was your statement about your boy? Blaine, I think you said. What would you like people to know about Blaine before you finally introduce him?”

--

Blaine had taken to splitting his time between studying in his or Nick’s room – the only two places where he would be safe from wide eyes similar to bush babies staring from behind trees – and studying on a free desk in the backroom of hummels. In the few days between the article about Liam Phillips was released and the next edition of Marie Claire was due to come out, Blaine was quickly known as more than ‘the boy who is our boss’ soul mate but we’re not meant to know that’. Kurt would bustle out of his office, head buried in plans for his next line, staring at different fabric patterns or talking rapidly on his phone and would see Blaine sipping coffee and joining in with a conversation about the upcoming Olympic Games in Rio or about the old Lord of the Rings films.

They’d always manage to share a smile over the corridor before Kurt was pulled back to his work and one of Kurt’s employees taking their break would tap Blaine on his arm and drew him back into the conversation.

But knowing that Blaine was there, taking time out when he should be studying, to make sure that Kurt was ok sent warm feelings running through Kurt’s heart. He had the perfect soul mate and with the scandals running through the media about how Kurt still refused to directly address the topic of Liam Phillips, he truly appreciated the feel of Blaine at his back and his hand in Kurt’s own.

Liam had turned up at the store twice in the short time between his interview and Kurt’s article were released. The first time Kurt had legitimately been out of the building, at a large fabric company to find the perfect material for some of the bow ties he was making for the early showcase of his line to the shareholders. Kurt had come back with a bow tie in red and blue fabric especially for Blaine, who had shared the gossip about what had happened that day.

Liam had been turned away by the general store manager, standing firm when he asked to see Kurt and accurately saying that Kurt wasn’t on the premises. All the employees had stared at Liam as he left, hands in pockets, and scowl on his face and paparazzi snapping photos to document the event. Everyone who had at job at hummels those few days knew what had transpired once the article had been released and had cottoned on pretty quickly that the bubbly boy in bow ties so like Kurt’s new line was their boss’ soul mate, rather than the surly man who’d sold his story to the press.

The second time, however, Kurt had been in the store and apparently Liam had waited outside until he knew his supposed soul mate was around. Again the general store manager had stood firm, arms folded and looking far more like a bouncer outside a heaving club than a manager of a store filled with designer clothes.

“His insane crusade is only going to turn out the worse for him, and that does not bother me in the slightest.” Kurt’s voice was very harsh in Blaine’s ear but he kept his voice low. They were watching from the crack in a door to the backroom: not the main doors but a small one to the side of the store. Four other people were watching through the crack as well, two secretaries and two people who worked in stock control. They had jumped up guiltily when Kurt had come to watch at the door and had started to move away to get back to work but Kurt had shaken his head and when their boss started spying on the proceedings, they happily returned to their own espionage.

“He’s like a terrier isn’t he.” Blaine whispered back. One of the secretaries nodded, eavesdropping without meaning to. Liam was throwing his hands up in despair and arguing with the manager, who was steadily shaking his head. “He just won’t let go.”

“I need to tell Tina to give Jonathan a raise.” Kurt mumbled, partly to himself and partly to Blaine. Jonathan, the manager, finally rolled his eyes in such an exaggerated manner than they saw it clearly from the door on the side of the room and he took Liam’s arm and led him from the store. The sight of a small, slight man with hair coiffed to perfect physically dragging another man, who was no more of a body builder than Jonathan but far taller, from the store brought a smile to both Kurt and Blaine’s faces. When Jonathan finally threw Liam out, to the amusement of the press, the shoppers who’d been watching eagerly all cheered before returning to browsing the shelves.

“He definitely needs a raise.” Kurt repeated. Now that the spectacle was over, the four employees slunk away and returned to their jobs but Kurt and Blaine hovered by the door in relative privacy in the big, bright backroom.

Without a word, Blaine held out his arms and Kurt immediately fell into them, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and burying his face in his neck. Blaine ran his hands up and down Kurt’s sides, resting them on his hips.

“I can’t wait for that article to come out.” Kurt’s voice was muffled by Blaine’s neck and Blaine felt goose bumps rise from the air rushing against his skin. “Once people see I met my soul mate weeks ago and they see how perfect he is for me, then maybe this whole mess will end.”

--

Tina was smiling as she carried the thick copy of the newest edition of Marie Claire into the large, bright meeting room. Kurt was looking at the formal sketches for his line with some of the people responsible for turning his sketches into these drawing but he beckoned to his friend when Tina knocked on the door.

“And here is your saviour.” She said, handing him the magazine. Kurt took it with a grateful smile and immediately flicked through the pages to find what he was looking for.

The article itself was a long piece about hummels, the history, how the company has grown over the past few years. Pictures of Kurt at official events accompanied the text, along with the photos Jane had insisted be taken to go along with the piece. Kurt ran his finger down the blocks of text, barely reading any of the words written there until he reached the end.

A smile crept onto his face. Jane had done exactly what she’d said she’d do. After the major section of the article had finished with the upcoming new line, she’d added in a paragraph or two addressing the rumours. It wasn’t a formal interview with him but the prose contained a statement that was so central, so important, that is could have been written in bolded font.

‘In this time of technology and fashion, it is easy to forget the simple things in life. Kurt has always told me that he tries not to: listening to music whenever he can, making his step-brother’s suits whenever he tears the last and waiting impatiently for his soul mate. And we are delighted to announce that Kurt has indeed found his soul mate.

He told me they met a few months ago and have been dating ever since, getting to know each other the old fashioned way. Kurt reliably told me that his new line is dedicated to his soul mate, who is being kept a secret for the near future until Kurt can make a fabulous outfit for his partner to wear to an important event that’s just a week or so away where he’ll finally put a name to his soul mate.

The rumours of who is the lucky man whose name is scarred on Kurt’s palm are about to come to an end. But rest assured, Kurt’s dream romance was of his own making. He found his soul mate and he told me that he hasn’t looked back since then. March 15th is going to be Kurt and his soul mate’s anniversary. So send your gifts to hummels in the spring!’

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t a clear sentence that said ‘the rumours spread by the gossip tabloids of this country were hateful and utterly false: my soul mate found me and didn’t use the media to do so’ but it was as close as it could be.

“Did she write everything you wanted?” Tina was bouncing on her toes with excitement as she spoke. The other three people in the room, Susie, Matthew and Fran, were flicking their eyes between Tina and Kurt, unsure of whether the article contained good news or bad.

He nodded to Tina’s question. “And I’m very glad she listened to me when I said not to put pictures of Blaine in this.”

“She wanted to add photos of Blaine too?”

Kurt nodded again. “To add to the proof that the other article was false. But I don’t want Blaine harassed any more than he already is just because of some pictures that could be avoided. He’s got an exam tomorrow.”

Kurt closed the magazine and held it to his chest. He knew this wasn’t the end of the trouble caused by one ambitious man who wanted what wasn’t his. He hadn’t talked it over with Blaine at all, the event that Jane was putting on in the next week. He kept telling himself that Blaine’s exams took precedence which is why he hadn’t bothered him just yet.

Around him, Tina took a look at the official sketches, drawn on tablets and printed off on thick white paper to send to fabric companies. Susie started talking to her and she glanced back at Kurt occasionally, who should have been listening but was still holding the magazine to his chest and praying things turned out ok.

--

It was evening, street lamps turned on and car headlights burning into the retinas of the students slowly making their way out of the exam hall. It had been a hard exam for them and most were shaking out their sore wrists in exaggerated movements. Most were headed to the bar nearby for a pick-me-up drink before they returned to the books for the next exam but some were walking in the opposite direction to go to the coffee shop, grab some caffeine and stay awake for the next few days to cram.

“That was impossible.” Nick moaned, rubbing his wrist rather than shaking his whole hand. He had his face turned up the sky but his eyes were kept shut.

Blaine didn’t need to speak to agree. He was one of the students shaking his wrist but the fast movements did nothing to relieve the soreness. They had been writing for a good few hours, essays upon essays about different things that took place in Britain during the Industrial Revolution. Blaine’s prediction that a question on whether or not the Revolution was a good thing hadn’t come true, to both his and Nick’s delight. But the essays they had had to write about were no less hard.

“Are you coming to the coffee shop with me or going to the bar with Jennifer?” Blaine asked his friend when they’d finally stepped out of the building.

“I was going with you to the coff-”

Nick fell silent and the flash of cameras blinded both boys for a second, as well as most of their fellow students who were still loitering near the entrance to the lecture theatre where they’d taken the exam.

“Blaine this way!”

“Blaine can you comment on what Kurt said about how you and he met?”

Blaine’s head turned this way and that with his mouth wide open. The crowd of photographers who had clearly been waiting outside for this very moment was larger than the one that had ambushed him outside the coffee shop a week ago. Had they been waiting on the sidewalk for the two and a half hours Blaine had spent writing about the destruction of the countryside and the divide between the north and the south?

“How do you feel about the line being dedicated to you?”

“What event will you be going to with Kurt?”

“How did you two connect?”

“Blaine can you finally confirm that you are Kurt’s soul mate?”

He stumbled back a few steps, hands open and rising slowly as if to put a barrier between him and the photographers. Nick had disappeared back inside the lecture theatre but everyone else around him was staring with mouths dropped and eyes wide.

Everywhere he turned there was another flash of a camera.

“Blaine-”

“Can you-”

“How-”

Timing extremely unlucky, Blaine turned his face to the left, directly into the line of a particularly bright flash. The man with the camera took picture after picture, camera flash blinding into Blaine’s eyes. Eyes which were already sensitive from staring at white papers, blue lines and black pen for two and a half hours.

He raised his hand, palm out, to shield the flashes from his eyes, eyes which were squinted shut and face turned away slightly. The flashes only seemed to increase as he tried to hide his eyes and he stumbled back again, grasping behind him with his free hand to find the door into the lecture theatre.

“Blaine, show us-”

“Tell us how you found-”

“When did your mark-”

“Blaine!” Nick’s voice cut straight through the crowd of reporters and Blaine dropped his arm, turned around in a circle and was yanked inside the building. Nick dropped Blaine’s arm once the tinted glass doors had shut and Blaine watched, spots on his eyes and eyes watering slightly from the bright flashes, as two of the invigilators from their exam strode confidently out in front of the photographers and told them to leave.

“Are you ok?” Nick asked as he watched Blaine scrub at his watering eyes vigorously. Any lasting pain in his wrist had been forgotten about. “You looked like you needed some serious help out there.”

Blaine nodded and didn’t speak for a moment. He just rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles but the spots still remained when he stopped.

“What’s going on?” He asked, readjusting the twisted strap of his bag, “Did Kurt say something about us?”

Nick was as clueless as Blaine. They’d both been in the exam for the past few hours and had been deep in revision mode for the past few days. They knew that the article about Kurt in Marie Claire had come out the previous day but neither had read it just yet. They’d planned to find it in a shop and read the piece the very next day.

Both of their phones had been switched off for the exam but Nick’s turned on faster and Blaine peered over his shoulder to look at the screen as Nick typed ‘Kurt Hummel, Marie Claire, soul mate’ into the internet browser.

Nothing came up the pointed directly to unequivocal proof that Blaine was Kurt’s soul mate. All the article said was that Kurt had found his soul mate, in fact a few months ago (which explained the numerous questions about how he and Kurt had met a few months ago) and that he would be introduced at an event in the next few days.

“Event?” Nick turned to look at Blaine with a slight raised eyebrow and Blaine only gave a confused shrug as a response. He trusted Kurt implicitly: even about an event which he knew nothing about where he would be introduced as Kurt’s soul mate.

“Blaine, I called you a taxi.” Dr Johnson’s voice broke through the musings of both boys and they turned to see their old professor had stuck his head round the glass door to talk to them. After all their complaining about his boring lectures, neither had been happier to see him than now. “The photographers have been told to leave but I recommend you leave now.”

Blaine hurried out of the building after Dr Johnson, Nick keeping close behind. The last stragglers of paparazzi started snapping widely to get a few pictures of the boys but Dr Johnson blocked their good views of Blaine and Nick stepping into a taxi and speeding away.

--

Every photographer who had caught Blaine coming out of his lecture waited with bated breath and impatient fidgeting for their editors to see the pictures gained from the evening’s endeavour. And every editor smiled widely when they saw the picture that would be headline gossip news for days to come.

The focus of the picture, taken a thousand times from every different angle, was of Blaine’s outstretched hand. The hand he’d used to shield his eyes from the bright lights of the camera flashes. Blaine was clear but shadowed in the background, his face turned away and his eyes tightly closed. But his hand was brightly lit and in perfect quality.

Hit left hand, stretched palm out towards the camera showing the answer to the question hundreds of people across the country had been asking and all those journalists had been shouting to the boy today. Kurt Hummel scrawled across the heart line on Blaine’s palm was captured on film and ready to be shown to the world.