“I propose a toast!” Kurt hoisted his paper cup full of sparkling cider into the air ceremoniously. Blaine and Rachel followed suit. “To Rachel—for taking the first big step toward her career.”

Rachel beamed.

“To me—for finding the perfect first-day-of-class ensemble without completely breaking the bank,” Kurt chuckled. “And to Blaine—for purchasing an article of clothing that didn’t remind me of Dalton Academy.”

Blaine snorted and tapped his cup against Kurt and Rachel’s in turn. “I’ll drink to that.”

“All in all, a very successful day for the Berry-Hummel-Anderson party,” Rachel concurred, taking a delicate sip of her sparkling cider. She glanced around their kitchen that was now beginning to take shape. The three friends sat at a wooden kitchen table that wasn’t any bigger than a card table. It beat eating on the floor, Blaine had reminded his unconvinced friends when they purchased it from the store that afternoon. Blaine and Kurt had picked up groceries on their way back from Bloomingdale’s so their small refrigerator actually contained food for once. A coffee maker had been purchased as well, per Blaine’s request. This only led to Kurt’s insistent rant about how too much caffeine is bad for the body, but Blaine managed to sneak the appliance onto the conveyor belt when they checked out.

“I can’t believe you got to sing in the middle of Times Square,” Blaine commented dreamily, leaning his cheek against his palm. “I would’ve loved to join in.”

Kurt rolled his eyes teasingly at his boyfriend. “Anything to get you in front of an audience.”

“It was completely indescribable,” Rachel swooned, a distant smile still tugging at her lips. Blaine watched with shared longing and Kurt noticed his expression become dangerously wistful. Kurt never quite understood why Blaine had chosen such a grueling curriculum like Pre-Med when performing was clearly something he had a passion for. At Dalton, Blaine had taken nearly every science and math class the school had to offer, making his transition to McKinley all the more unpretentious. Pre-Med was unmistakably a major that was well suited to Blaine’s academic strengths, but that didn’t seem to help wane his yearn to perform.

Kurt’s thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone began vibrating inside his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen: Finn Hudson. Anxiously, he shot a look at Rachel. “Honey, I think you better leave the room for a while.”

Her expression dropped. Rachel didn’t need any more indication that he was calling Kurt. With a short ‘humph’, she stood and marched out into the living room. Kurt put the phone to his ear and Blaine leaned his head on Kurt’s shoulder to listen in on the long-awaited conversation.

“Well, hello, Finn. How nice of you to call,” Kurt answered icily. Blaine chuckled silently.

Finn heaved a sigh through the receiver. “I know you’re angry. I got your voice mail…all sixteen of them.”

“Let’s not stray away from important matters,” Kurt began forcefully. His eyes flickered toward the living room where he caught a glance of Rachel lying across the carpet with her laptop. “What exactly did you say to her? She’s about one mention of your name away from entering ‘psycho ex-girlfriend’ territory.”

Kurt could practically hear Finn’s wince through the phone. “What did she tell you?”

“Oh, just something along the lines of you not caring about her or loving her enough,” Kurt shrugged, feigning indifference.

Finn groaned pathetically. “That’s not true at all!”

“Well, she must’ve gotten that idea from somewhere, Finn. Girlfriends just don’t all of a sudden start feeling unloved,” Kurt glanced sideways at Blaine still leaning against his shoulder and realized that the dark haired boy was giving him a strange look. “Not that I would know anything about girlfriends.”

“She just—I didn’t—“ Finn tried, but to no avail. He continued with a softer voice. “All I said was that I didn’t want a long distance relationship and I didn’t feel good about moving to New York.”

“And what is she supposed to take away from that, Finn?” Kurt reprimanded. “Of course she feels like you don’t care. Do you still love her?”

“Yes…”

“Do you still want to be with her?”

“Yes…”

“Well, then you’re even more stupid than I thought you were,” Kurt sighed, shaking his head at his thick stepbrother. “You let her go.”

“I know,” Finn mumbled helplessly. “I just don’t know what to do…I’d do anything to get her back…I really miss her.”

Kurt softened his tone. A small part of his heart actually felt bad for his pitiable stepbrother. “You’re the one who doesn’t want a long distance relationship or to move to New York. I don’t know what you expect here. One of you is going to have to change and, by the looks of things, Rachel isn’t budging.”

“You’re right,” Finn nearly whispered. Kurt could hear him taking heavy breaths through the phone and after a long pause, he said, “I’m gonna get going…talk to you soon, Kurt.”

Finn hung up before Kurt could reply. A bit baffled, Kurt placed his phone down on the kitchen table and looked at Blaine who had now straightened up, wearing a sympathetic look.

“I’m so glad you came to your senses and realized you had feelings for me,” Kurt motioned to his cell phone exasperatedly. “Now we don’t have to deal with you being like that.”

Blaine laughed and placed a kiss on Kurt’s lips.

The next couple of days seemed to fly by as preparations were made for school and the apartment. Blaine took it upon himself to order a cream futon from Craigslist that now sat in the middle of the living room—right where Kurt had imagined it. The futon faced their TV—the scrawniest and cheapest TV the trio had managed to find—which sat on top of a light wooden cabinet. The apartment was still very much a work in progress, but it seemed like a trivial matter compared to the stress of the arrival of the first day of college.

Which is why Kurt found himself swallowing hard and breaking into a sweat as soon as he faced the entrance of New York University’s Building of Art and Design. Beside him, Blaine took his hand and squeezed.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Blaine assured his boyfriend softly. Rachel placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“You were born to do this, Kurt,” She told him pointedly. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

Kurt nodded robotically and continued to stare down the intimidating revolving doors that were now flooded with students as they hurried to class. “Thanks…just give me a moment for my heart to start beating again.”

Rachel giggled and began prancing off in the opposite direction toward the Performing Arts Building. “I’ve got to get to class, too. Good luck, boys!”

“See you, Rachel. Have fun,” Blaine called after her while Kurt gave an incoherent mumble as a farewell. The dark haired boy turned back to his boyfriend. “I have to get going, too.”

Kurt nodded absently.

“Are you going to be okay?” Blaine laughed. “Should I alert an ambulance to standby in case there’s any heart failure?”

Kurt barely cracked a smile. “I’m fine, Blaine.”

“Good,” Blaine lifted himself onto the balls of his feet to peck his slightly taller boyfriend on the cheek before walking down the sidewalk. “Remember…courage.”

This time, Kurt did smile as he watched Blaine hurry down the street in the direction of the Science and Humanities Building. Two years ago when the two first met, Blaine had taught Kurt the true meaning of courage. And now, he was doing it all over again. Inhaling deeply, Kurt tightened the grip on his coffee cup that he had purchased on the way to campus and began making his way toward the revolving doors.

The inside of the building was pristine, Kurt noted. The walls and floor were marble and large pillars extended all the way up to the high ceiling where a mural had been painted in bright colors. Just by glancing around the lobby, Kurt knew he would eventually lose himself somewhere in the various marble hallways. His first class of the day was Color and Design Theory in room A210. The course sounded interesting… if he could ever figure out where the classroom was, Kurt thought cynically.

He sharply turned the corner into the first hallway he could find when he collided into a solid figure, hard. The impact caused the lid of Kurt’s cup to slip off, drenching the unsuspecting victim in scorching hot coffee. Kurt gasped.

“I am so sorry!” He screeched. “Oh, my God—I can’t believe I did that!”

The person Kurt had bumped into was a young man who appeared a good bit older than him. He was tall, Kurt noticed. Perhaps close to Finn’s height. This man, however, was lean and slender, unlike Kurt’s burly stepbrother. His auburn hair was cut short and tidy, perfectly framing his chestnut eyes that were surrounded by a thick mass of dark lashes. The man’s skin was a flawless shade of beige and his features were sharply defined. He was undoubtedly quite attractive, especially in his navy suit—although the front was entirely soaked with coffee.

“It’s not a problem, really,” The man spoke smoothly, letting his full lips curl upward in a polite smile. He reached into his bag and removed a stack of napkins. “I think I’ll recover.”

“I’m just so nervous because it’s my first day…I’m usually not this uncoordinated. I just wasn’t thinking when I turned the corner and I’m so sorry—it’s all my fault,” Kurt began rambling, shifting uncomfortably as the man chuckled and dabbed at his suit with the napkins.

“I hope you’re not usually this chatty either,” The man joked good-naturedly, his brown eyes twinkling. “And don’t be so hard on yourself—it was a mutual disaster. We both turned the corner a bit too quickly, I think.”

Kurt’s eyes focused on the man’s suit and his eyes widened as his recognized the unmistakable tailoring of the garment. “You’re wearing Armani!” He cried. “That’s probably an $800 suit!”

“$750, actually,” The man smirked.

“You have to let me make it up to you somehow,” Kurt continued desperately, eyes frantic. “Honestly, I could never forgive myself if I knew I ruined someone’s designer suit.”

The man threw his head back and laughed. “Well, aren’t you sweet?” He shook his head lightly. “Really, it’s fine. I couldn’t ask anything of you. It was an accident.”

“I insist,” Kurt pushed defiantly. “If not for your sake, then for mine.”

The man released a delicate sigh and smiled down at Kurt’s pleading expression. “Maybe you could buy us coffee sometime…as long as it stays in the cup.”

“Done,” Kurt grinned enthusiastically at the auburn haired man and stuck out his hand. “I’m Kurt Hummel, by the way.”

The man shook Kurt’s hand. “Renwick Paige, but call me Ren. So, Kurt, I gather you’re a freshman Fashion Design major?”

“Is it that obvious?” Kurt groaned. “How’d you know about my major?”

Ren shrugged easily, a grin still playing about his lips. “It’s not every day a guy recognizes someone’s Armani suit.”

Kurt giggled guiltily. “Are you…a teacher?” Kurt wondered tentatively, taking in Ren’s older appearance.

“I’m only twenty-three!” Ren laughed out loud. “No, I’m a grad student here. I work part-time at Vogue Magazine.”

Kurt had never been a religious person, but, at that moment, he swore he heard angels singing, felt a light shining down on him from the clouds, and any other clich�d heavenly occurrences that only happen in movies whenever something terribly coincidental happens. This was a sign—maybe not from “God”, but from some sort of higher power. Kurt’s grin spread widely across his face.

“Vogue Magazine?” Kurt repeated incredulously. “You work there?”

Ren nodded. “I’m assuming you’re familiar with it?”

“Familiar?” Kurt burst out, unable to contain his joy. “I have every single issue that’s been released within the past twelve years. I worship that magazine. I’m actually applying for an internship there.”

“Really?” Ren perked up with interest. “That’s great! Maybe I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Kurt placed a hand over his heart and felt the air escape his lungs. “Oh, dear, sweet Gaga—that would be amazing!”

“See you around, Kurt,” Ren readjusted his bag over his shoulder and winked at the shell-shocked brunette. “Don’t forget you owe me coffee.”

Kurt could barely move as Ren disappeared down the long hallway. This was it, Kurt thought to himself. He didn’t care if he had to buy Ren a million cups of coffee—if this were how Kurt was going to get into Vogue then he was prepared to milk it for all it’s worth.

Kurt was the last one to return to the apartment that evening. His first day of college had been grueling—as expected—but not nearly as grueling as the giant stack of homework that waited for him in his messenger bag. He walked through the door to find Rachel curled up on the futon with her laptop and Blaine sitting beside her softly playing his guitar. The TV was quietly murmuring in the background—some sort of reality show.

“Well, people, we survived the first day,” Kurt announced as he closed the door behind him and placed his bag against the wall. “Anyone want to share war stories?”

Blaine stopped playing and turned around to look at Kurt standing by the door. “I accidentally spilled sulfuric acid on my partner during my lab study period. It burned a hole straight through her shirt.”

“My vocal coach was beyond impressed by my performance of ‘Memory’ from Cats,” Rachel chimed in, shrugging nonchalantly as she continued to browse her computer. “But that’s not much of a surprise.”

“Besides getting lost on my way to my first class,” Kurt admitted shamelessly. “My day went off without a hitch. In fact, I met someone who just might be able to get me that internship to Vogue.”

Blaine and Rachel both looked up, mouths open and eyes wide. “What?”

“That’s right,” Kurt nodded. “I bumped into a grad student at the School of Design—and almost ruined his gorgeous Armani suit, poor thing—who works at Vogue. He said he’d put in a good word for me.”

Rachel clapped her hands together and Blaine jumped up from the futon, abandoning his guitar. He rushed toward his boyfriend and wrapped him up in a tight hug. “Kurt! That’s incredible!”

“Nothing’s decided yet, but I think I have a good shot,” Kurt added, speaking at rapid speed from excitement.

“I have some good news, too,” Blaine said, pulling away from Kurt, grinning largely. “I was walking back to the apartment after class—through the Village—and saw this restaurant on the corner with a ‘help wanted’ sign in the window. I figured I had nothing to lose so I went in and asked about it. Turns out, they needed someone to play live music on Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. I told them I could come in and they hired me on the spot!”

Kurt squealed joyously and took Blaine’s hands in his. “This is fantastic! We’re finally getting to establish ourselves in the working world of New York City!”

“I’m just as thrilled as you two are, but,” Rachel paused and gave the boys her best look of admonishment. “We can’t neglect our schoolwork.”

Kurt groaned as he remembered the daunting amount of homework that waited for him in his bag. He dropped Blaine’s hands huffily. “Speaking of schoolwork…I got bombarded. I can’t imagine your teachers went easy on you, Blaine.”

“Well…no, they didn’t,” Blaine shot a hasty glance toward his own discarded school bag sitting near the futon, untouched. “But I was planning on practicing for my first performance at the restaurant—“

“Blaine, I know the switch from Dalton to McKinley was a bit of a ‘get out of jail free’ card for you,” Kurt narrowed his eyes into Blaine’s hazel orbs. “But this is college—no slacking off, mister.”

Kurt began dragging Blaine unwillingly toward his school bag just as Rachel’s laptop gave a soft, short ding. The small brunette casually glanced down at the screen that read: one new email. Clicking on her inbox, the email opened.

Rachel’s jaw practically hit the floor. Ten thousand dollars? She knew expenses wouldn’t be cheap in the city, but that was nearly all her savings—combined with the money that her dads had given her to start off with. But Rachel didn’t want to lose this opportunity…she couldn’t. Besides, once she got the part she’d be making money, anyway. Everything would turn out fine. The only thing to do was give Dean the money. With resolute force, Rachel hit the reply button and began typing furiously.