Blaine could hardly turn up looking like a homeless person or worse, like a poor student.

Yet, he also didn’t want to pander to the stereotype that he was just another fan looking to pilfer off some freebies from their idol. Every person who had claimed to be Kurt’s soul mate would just be looking to ride off his fame. To be honest, if Blaine walked into hummels and demanded to speak to Kurt himself, he’d be turned away and accused of doing the same thing. So he couldn’t go to the store wearing any of Kurt’s designs.

With a shrug at no one, Blaine pulled a pair of jeans off the hanger, it shaking on the clothing rail with the reactive force. He tugged them on, hopping around his small room rather than sit down, and pulled on a pair of socks. Now he bent over and rolled up the bottom of his jeans. Just a little bit. It was a habit that had stemmed from never being able to find a pair of pants that fit him properly while he was growing.

The top was a little trickier to choose but after a good few minutes of surveying the clothes he’d brought with him from Ohio when he’d left and the clothes he’d collected over the three years in New York, he pulled a white sweater with thin red stripes off the shelf. That would do.

Blaine took a few minutes in the mirror to look over his outfit. He’d left his hair ungelled after his shower but took the time before leaving to make sure every wayward curl was in perfect place.

He refused to believe that he was dressing up because he was going to meet his soul mate for the first time. Kurt Hummel the designer wasn’t his soul mate and the whole purpose of this outing was to prove that.

--

“Where are you off to so dressed on a Tuesday morning?” Nick asked when Blaine had grabbed a plate of toast and some marmalade. Nick was wearing baggy tracksuit bottoms and a half open shirt: he also had a free day on Tuesdays and this was the day that both boys lounged around in comfortable clothing while they caught up on some work. Normally, Blaine didn’t even gel his hair on days like today.

“I just need to run some errands.” Blaine replied flippantly. He focused on spreading the butter and marmalade across his toast, catching the crumbs on the small plate underneath his toast. Technically, running errands wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

Unfortunately, Nick also picked up on that. “Errands like what, Mr Anderson?”

Raising an eyebrow, Blaine refused to answer. At that moment, Jennifer and another girl who lived on their hallway joined the two boys. Sugar didn’t take history with Blaine but as they lived in the next door rooms to each other, they were still close.

“Good morning, boys.” Jennifer said with a smile and a cheerful bounce. Sugar was equally smiley this morning and she forced her way into the seat next to Blaine. Jennifer’s voice was overly happy when she continued speaking: “What are we talking about?”

“What Blaine’s errands are going to entail today.” Nick spoke quickly to avoid Blaine changing the subject. He was rewarded with a glare from his amber eyed friend.

“Errands?” Sugar took a bite out of a grape that she pulled out of the fruit salad/yoghurt combination she’d fetched for breakfast. “Do tell!”

“Are you finally going to admit that Kurt Hummel is your soul mate, Blaine?” Jennifer asked, her voice filled with a mock-seriousness that normally would have Blaine laughing alongside Nick and Sugar.

“He’s not going to be my soul mate!” Blaine insisted. He took a bite of toast and endured the agonising rolling of the eyes that all three friends gave whenever this argument was breeched. Swallowing his bite of breakfast, he continued: “What is a fashion designer like him going to do with a soul mate who’s a history student like me?”

Nick pointed his knife at Blaine, which would have been far more threatening if jam hadn’t fallen to the table. “And why wouldn’t a fashion designer have a history student for a soul mate?”

Blaine looked at the ceiling in despair. “Because he’ll have a model or an actor or someone more important as a soul mate.” His friends looked totally unimpressed by the repeated argument. “Fine. The errand I am running is to go to Kurt’s store and prove to you people that Kurt Hummel isn’t my soul mate.”

The three people around Blaine looked satisfied that he’d told them the truth. Sugar even looked overjoyed that he was going to hummels to ask about Kurt’s name written across his palm. None of them mentioned the other side of the argument: that Blaine would go to hummels and come back having found his soul mate. For that, Blaine was grateful; he still wasn’t thinking about that outcome as a potential possibility.

--

Have you found your soul mate yet?

Shaking his head out of fondness as he read the text from his friends, Blaine swiped his thumb over the screen of his phone and typed in the passcode. He taped out a response to Nick’s text as he walked, bumping into other people rushing along the New York street.

I promise I will tell all later. Calm yourself!

Blaine turned down a street, stepping sideways to avoid a mother dragging two children away from a huge department store. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Blaine walked determinately towards the address he’d seen on the article online, checking with Google Maps to make sure he was heading in the right direction in the busy shopping streets.

If Google Maps hadn’t pointed him in the right direction, a string of five shoppers all carrying bags full to the brim with hummels written in elaborate cursive script would have told Blaine he was going in the right direction. It was still early in the day, just gone eleven, but there had obviously been a gaggle of people outside the store when it had opened.

After sidestepping a group of shoppers who refused to break ranks and form two lines on the pavement, Blaine saw the store he was aiming for. It was bright and obvious when compared with the darker shop windows around it. hummels had the front entirely made of glass and lights were turned on inside that shone out to illuminate the street outside. People passing by turned their heads to look at whatever was happening inside and a fair few of them changed their direction and opened the door to enter the store.

Blaine hurried down the street to the entrance and walked inside himself. He cut up two men who were debating whether to shop there or not but the sight of a young man walking into the shop convinced those two to enter as well.

The interior of the store with painted in shades of grey, blended from the lighter colours at the back of the store to the darker colours at the front. The floor and ceiling were also coloured grey, the floor made of a fake-granite material that contained bits of paint that would sparkle in the light. At the back of the store was a long till where no less than six people were serving the long queue of eagerly waiting customers. Behind the till were two double doors painted in the same grey as the walls around them which led to the work rooms and offices.

The clothes were organised around mannequins and Blaine’s intensive studying of the fashion show Kurt put on to showcase his second line came in handy. Each mannequin was dressed in an outfit from the runway and the racks around the mannequin held the clothes from that outfit in all sizes. The racks along the walls contained the clothes from Kurt’s first line, on the left, and from his online store, on the right.

The shop itself was full of people. Mainly women, holding up the dresses to their bodies to try and determine which size would be best to buy. Many would just buy the clothes they liked and return the sizes that didn’t fit at a later date. There were plenty of men standing around and looking totally bored out of their skulls while they waited for their soul mates or girlfriends. Saying that, there was a large contingent of men who were frantically flicking through the racks to find the perfect shirt or pair of pants, throwing the chosen garment over the ever growing pile hanging on one arm.

Blaine rubbed his forehead, focusing on the pressure points to avoid a growing headache. This plan should have been thought out at a better time that ten to three in the morning. Of course Kurt’s shop would be busy: it was the second day that it was open. His clothes were designer but not unaffordable to the middle to high earners of New York. Men and women would take a long lunch break, some people shopping on the request of their partners, just to buy from hummels in the opening few days.

Still, he’d come all this way to determine whether the Kurt Hummel who was his soul mate was the same Kurt Hummel that was probably sitting somewhere in an office at the back of this store.

Blaine walked forwards, aiming for the tills at the back of the store. All six employees were working, folding clothes and dropping them into the large bags at their feet with practiced skill. The one at the end was taking the credit card of his customer so Blaine dodged the rope barrier used to stop queue-jumpers and walked right up to the till.

While the lady was punching in her pin number, he rested both hands against the edge of the counter and leaned over to speak to the man. He earned a large glare from the lady and a few people in the queue behind him.

“Can I talk to someone in charge?” He asked, speaking as loudly as he needed to. “Like a manager or someone who works at both stores?”

The man nodded but held up one finger to signal that he should be patient. Blaine nodded as well and stepped away from the counter. Unconsciously, he rubbed his palm with his thumb. As if touching the scars that formed Kurt’s name gave him courage.

Relax, he told himself, It’s not like Kurt will even be your soul mate anyway. The woman took her new purchase and the employee spoke quietly into the small microphone attached to the intercom. He pressed a headphone further into his ear as if to hear better, spoke again and then nodded. He beckoned to the next customer but focused on Blaine.

“Someone will be with you shortly.”

Blaine nodded his thanks and stepped further away from the till. The woman who had stalked up to the till he’d been hovering over gave Blaine a haughty look down the end of her pointed nose. Her purchase was at least double what the first lady had bought and when her eyes bulged slightly when the employee told her the price, Blaine laughed quietly.

After two more customers had paid for their clothes, one of the doors leading to the back room of the store opened and a small Asian lady wearing heels and a dress not made by Kurt walked out onto the shop floor. She looked around, smoothed the palms of her hands down the sides of her dress and strode straight to the man who Blaine had spoken to.

Blaine had been staring aimlessly at the shoppers in the store while he waited, watching how two men who were obviously close friends were recommending shirts to each other. When the employee pointed the woman in Blaine’s direction, the red head had just thrust a white shirt with tasteful stitching on the collar and cuffs into his friend’s hands.

“You wanted to speak to a manager?” The woman asked, tipping her head to the side as she looked at Blaine. In her heels she was still smaller than he was: something that didn’t happen too often. “I’m Tina, I’m Kurt’s assistant. Can I help?”

Blaine smiled and held out a hand. Tina shook it but didn’t return the smile. It made sense: he hadn’t introduced himself or even mentioned why someone would want to speak to a manager or someone in charge after the store had been open for a day and a few hours.

“I know you’ve gotten this a hundred times already,” He started speaking. It was a rehearsed speech that he’d written in the shower that morning but he doubted that he’d stick to it. He couldn’t remember half of it anyway, “but I have to ask…”

Blaine held up his left palm to show Tina the scarred ‘Kurt Hummel’ on his palm. He tucked his right hand into the back pocket of his jeans and waited. Blaine watched as Tina’s confusion gave way to understanding when her eyes read the two words written there.

She looked up at him from under her lashes. “May I?”

Blaine didn’t know what she was asking permission to do but he nodded and held out his hand for her to take. Tina cupped the back of his hand in the palm of hers and pressed down hard on Blaine’s name. She pressed as hard as she could as she swiped her thumb down the length of Blaine’s heart line.

Kurt’s name faded to white as the blood was forced away from the surface of his palm. Then when the pressure of Tina’s thumb left, blood flowed in its wake and the scarred Kurt Hummel turned pink once more.

Tina’s eyebrows rose in surprise and Blaine sucked one side of his bottom lip into his mouth to chew on for a second. It was obvious what she’d been doing. People who had managed to cover up their name and draw Kurt’s name on in makeup would have been left blushing. The pressure and the movement of Tina’s thumb would have smeared the makeup and proven that Kurt wasn’t their soul mate in one fell swoop. But Blaine’s scar was genuine so he had nothing to worry about with that little test.

Tina looked up at him and waited for a moment. When neither of them spoke for a beat too long, Blaine hurriedly explained further: “I’m not trying to get anything. To be honest, I’m trying to rule this-” he gestured to the rest of the shop “-Kurt out of the equation. I doubt he’s my soul mate. But if I don’t ask, I’ll always want to know, right?”

Slowly and almost reluctantly, Tina nodded. “What did you say your name was?” She asked and dropped Blaine’s captured hand.

“Blaine.” He smiled again. “My name’s Blaine Anderson.”

Nothing changed on Tina’s face, although she did lick her lips. Abruptly turning around, she walked over to the counter and bent down, reaching behind the counter to pull a pad of paper off a hidden shelf. Stealing a pen from behind the till, she held it out to Blaine.

“Would you mind writing your name down,” she explained, “and your number? That way I can contact you and I don’t have to worry about spelling your name wrong.”

Blaine nodded and stepped up, scribbling his name on the paper and writing his cell phone number down next to it. Pen hovering over the page, he triple checked his number and made sure it was completely legible. Just his luck to have spoken to someone at hummels, passed the first test to see if the mark on his palm was genuine but for his number to be completely unreadable so that they had no way of contacting him.

Tina took both pen and paper away from him and held the pad close to her chest. This time she held out a hand for Blaine to shake. “I’ll contact you as soon as possible with your answer.” She told him when Blaine hurried to shake her hand in return.

He thanked her graciously for her time and turned to leave. Her voice calling made him stop and turn around.

“Thank you, Blaine Anderson.”

Blaine smiled at her and turned around once more. He dug his phone out of his pocket, seeing a text from Nick and one from Jennifer waiting for him. He started typing on his phone as he made his way to the exit, completely missing the very small smile that had spread across Tina’s lips.

--

Kurt had been sketching away for the better part of the day. He’d phoned his dad and had spent most part of an hour talking about how the opening had gone and how he still couldn’t believe that so many people wanted to buy his clothes. Burt had sat on the other end of the line and just listened to his son talk with a proud smile on his face, unable to talk for very long as the garage suddenly filled with people looking for early morning appointments.

After lunch, Kurt had opened his sketchbook and looked over all the drawings he’d made in the morning. They were all of clothes for men, smart casual and unlike his other two lines. Kurt’s first two official lines had been heavily based on the clothes he would have worn and did wear in his teenage years. These clothes were totally different.

The ones on the first page were of jeans and sweatshirts, simple clothes with stripes or checks on the sweaters. The next few pages added a cardigan into the outfit, often with notes saying that this fabric should be brightly coloured. A few outfits contained bow ties. Kurt frowned at those: why would he have an outfit where someone was wearing a bow tie with a polo shirt? Strangely it worked on the concept line drawing and he turned the page over, keeping the drawing.

Three knocks sounded on his door and Kurt looked up. “Come in.”

Tina walked inside, shutting the door behind her and take a seat without being offered one. She held a folded piece of paper in her hands and looked entirely pleased with herself.

“I don’t even know what I’ve been drawing the past few hours.” Kurt admitted, pushing the sketchbook closer to his old school friend. Tina leant towards the desk and lifted a few of the pages to see the drawings herself. She never put down her folded note.

“I like the ones with the cardigans.” She admitted, her eyes never leaving the thick drawing pages. “Why are they coloured so brightly?”

“Why not?” was the reply. Kurt and Tina shared a look filled with mirth and Kurt shook his head. He leant back in his chair and gestured to his sketchbook. “Those outfits would be very plain without some kind of statement. There would be nothing for anyone to look at. With the cardigans in bold colours, or plain colours and paired with a bright shirt, there’s the statement.”

Tina nodded her understanding. She closed the sketchbook carefully and pushed it over to Kurt with one hand. Settling against the back of her chair, she scraped her nails down the fold of the note in her hands.

Kurt pointed right at it. The way Tina was holding it; it seemed that she wanted him to ask about it. “What’s that?”

“I had someone claim they were your soul mate again today.” She replied, dodging the question for the minute.

“Again?” Kurt’s voice was filled with boredom. One day after the previous attempt seemed like too soon. Couldn’t he have any reprieve from overeager fans? “Why did you deal with it?”

Tina shrugged. “He asked to speak to a manager and as the manager was dealing with some inane problem with the guy who was here to service the lights, for heaven’s sake, I dealt with it. I didn’t know that he was going to claim to be a soul mate of yours: I thought someone actually had a complaint. Anyway, he wanted to double check that you weren’t his soul mate because the Kurt Hummel written on his hand was genuine.”

Kurt listened to what Tina had said but one word registered. “He?”

Tina nodded and the self-satisfied look returned to her face. She held up the folded note. “This is his name and number.” She explained. Tina put the note onto the bare wood of the drawing desk and carefully slid it from her side of the table to Kurt’s. “And I think you should take a look at this one.”

Frowning, Kurt picked up the folded place piece of paper and opened it. He shot Tina another look, this one filled with confusion and looked down at the writing. His confusion melted away and instead shock was written all over his face. He lifted his eyes to stare at Tina and she smiled and nodded once. Diplomatically, she stood and left the office, peering round the door at her friend before she silently closed it to give him some privacy.

Kurt’s blue eyes were wide as he looked at the hand writing. His breath was caught in his throat. What this the real Blaine Anderson who had come into the store today? Had Kurt’s soul mate actually been just a few steps away on the other side of the sound-proofed double doors?

Kurt lifted his left hand that trembled slightly. He laid the note flat on his desk and rested his hand next to it, palm up. His eyes flicked from the scars on the palm of his hand to the name written across the paper. Blaine Anderson. Blaine Anderson. They were identical. The hand writing was the exactly same.