Well Kurt, you moved to New York City for adventure. Here's your adventure.

Why am I hearing Burt in my head? Since when does my conscience have the voice of my father?

Someone's got to be looking out for ya, you know, since you don't believe in God and all...

Oh shut up, metaphorical dad. I'll ask for your help when I need it.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Blaine said, suddenly. I guess I had been unintentionally staring at him for about five minutes, just basking in the oddness of the situation.

"Oh." I snapped out of my accidental gaze, looking around the room. "I was just thinking...your face happened to be in the general direction I was uhm...thinking in."

Smooth.

I really had been thinking though. It was three-o-clock, and I had to be back at the Gershwin in two hours. Originally I'd planned on writing my music theory term paper during my free hour and a half, but now I had a hobo on my hands. I mean, of course I could leave him here at the apartment while I did tonight's performance - but could I really trust him that much? I mean, he could just be waiting for me to have enough conviction that he was clinically sane before wreaking havoc upon my apartment.

Maybe I should just call it quits, lay down the law, and demand for him to leave at once. It's not like the police would take his side on his situation, that is, if it was necessary for them to get involved. But godI'd feel like such an ass kicking him out on the streets. Those freezing cold streets. Plus, he's been nothing but nice to me. He made me brunch for Christ's sake.

Wait. Was I allowed to take him with me? I mean, I do get a free ticket if the show isn't sold out an hour before it begins. I can give him the ticket, go backstage, get my costume on, do the show, and come back. Perfect!

Ohhhh crap, there's sort of a dress code for the theatre, isn't there?

Hmm...

"What's your pant size?"

"Um...Excuse me?"

"Your pant size." I repeated, getting up and moving towards my bedroom, motioning for him to follow me. Blaine stumbled off his stool to trail after me. I walked into my closet, going straight for my more formal wear.

"May I ask why?" Blaine said from the doorway of my closet.

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked through my small collection of Armani suits, glancing back at Blaine to see if maybe one of them would fit him. "Because sweats and a t-shirt aren't usually the ideal attire for Broadway theatre. Do you think this will fit?" I said, holding up a grey dress pants in one hand and the jacket that went with it in the other.

The scruffily dressed man looked down at his feet, chuckling, and then looking back up at me. "Are you asking me to be your date?"

Why did that seem unusually charming?

"No, of course not." I said, keeping my cool and turning back around to look at the rest of the suits. "Why would I need you to be my date?"

"Oh, I don't know," Blaine said sarcastically, "because it's the Broadway theatre?"

I laughed a bit while I handed him the suit. "No, I won't be joining you tonight, Blaine. I'll be backstage." I saw the cogs in his head slowly start to turn as I walked out of the closet and towards the bathroom.

"Oh! You work on Broadway? What show?"

"Wicked."

I could hear Blaine gasp from the other room, then walking over to join me in the bathroom. "That must be a really exciting job."

"Yep." I said, removing some bottles from my cabinet and placing them around the sink.

"So are you in like stage crew or costume designing or..."

"I'm a winged monkey."

Blaine snickered before realizing I was serious. "A winged monkey?"

"I'm guessing you've never seen the show."

"Well, no, but I-"

"Yeah, I figured."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know, you-you're...homeless. I mean, I can't expect you to have a thorough knowledge of musical theatre."

Blaine let out a sigh and leaned against the doorway. "Is that what you're fancy school taught you?"

"What?"

"You know, Kurt, the trouble with schools is..."

Is he...?

"...they always try to teach the wrong lesson." Blaine sang.

He is.

"Believe me I've been kicked out of enough of them to knooow. They want you to become less callow less shallow, but I say, why invite stress in? Stop studying strife, and learn to live the unexamined liiiiiiiife."

I laughed and watched as Blaine danced into the bathroom, singing, gliding and spinning around me.

"Dancing through life, skimming the surface, gliding where turf is smoooooth."

"Okay, okay." I said, folding my arms and trying to hide my smile with the side of my hand.

"Life's more painless for the brainless. Why think too haaard, when it's so soothing dancing through life. No need to tough it when you can sluff it off as I doooo."

Oh, okay, wow...that's pretty attractive. Why am I finding this so attractive? "I get it Blaine, I was wrong."

"Nothing maaaatters but knowing nothing matters. It's just life, so keep dancing throooough."

"Oh my god Blaine, I get it, okay? You know Wicked. I have to listen to that song multiple times a day." Despite my demeanor, I secretly didn't want him to stop singing. My god he had a gorgeous voice.

"What, you don't like my singing?"

Actually, I like it so much I might ask you to sing me to sleep tonight.

"Well..."

"Because last night you seemed to like it an awful lot." Blaine said with a teasing smile, moving closer to me. "You asked me to sing you to sleep."

My mouth dropped open. I should be horrified but, honestly, did he just read my mind?

"That is why I don't drink." I said, avoiding his eyes before his gaze could really succeed in making me flustered. "But you're going to have to clean up a little better than that if you're coming to my show tonight." He raised an eyebrow as I pointed to the bottles I had taken out of the cabinet. "There's facial wash, shaving cream, a razor, an extra toothbrush, and aftershave here. I highly recommend that you somewhat...style your beard, at least. I'm assuming you took a shower while I was gone, but you're welcome to take another. I have some hair styling products on my vanity in my bedroom, please read the directions on the bottles. I'll be on the couch working on homework if you need me. Don't hesitate to ask, I always enjoy a good makeover. Normally I would completely oversee all of this, but I have shit loads of paper to write so..."

"So...take a shower and make myself look pretty, got it." Blaine replied, holding a thumbs up and looking at the bottles resting on the sink.

"Um...yeah." I said, looking around the room awkwardly and deciding I should probably leave now. "Err...good luck? I-um, no...good...have fun. Wait, no...you...bye Blaine." I stepped out, blushing heavily as I gently clicked the door shut.

I quickly got to work, sitting with my laptop, text books, and a cup of coffee by my side. My mind became so engrossed in the differences between the composers of modern day society compared to those of Medieval times I almost completely forgot about the man in the other room. When about a page and a half of quality writing was sitting on my lap I heard the bathroom door open and reached for my cup, taking a sip before looking up at-

Holy fuck.

Blaine stood in the hallway, a towel hanging low on his waist and water droplets still clinging to his skin. I gasped and the coffee in my mouth went down the wrong pipe, threatening to spill into my lungs. I began coughing like crazy, almost hacking to get the liquid back into my throat. When I glanced back up, Blaine was rushing to my side, looking worried. He had to hold the towel at his side or else it would have fallen off on his journey to the couch and that certainly did not help my troubled state.

"Are you okay?"

The first thing I noticed were the abs that were now displayed right in front of my face. A beautiful, beautiful set of abs that sat above a very mouthwatering 'V' line. I just stared as I coughed, feeling almost as if I was dreaming that this was happening. There's no way that this is the same person I saw outside the club the other night, no freaking way.

"Kurt?"

My head snapped up to meet his eyes and oh my god. How has he been hiding such a stunning face for so long? I just wanted to...touch it. I felt like Dory and Marlin felt when they first found that piranha. There was no more beard left, it was all just gorgeous bright, slightly tanned skin. His hair was hanging low on his forehead, almost blocking out his golden green eyes. How have I not noticed those stunning orbs before? My hands wanted to move his hair to the side so I could stare deeper into them. My gaze drifted down to his lips, which looked so incredibly red, close, and tangible. And they were twisted into a...smirk? Why the fuck is he smiling at me? I was just coughing my ass off.

"I-I-coffee...wrong pipe." I finally stated, staring helplessly into his eyes. His smile got even bigger. Does the bastard know what he's doing to me?

"Oh, okay. Can you help me trim my hair real quick? I mean, I can do it myself if you-"

"No!" I interrupted. "There is no way I'm letting you cut your own hair, that always ends up in disaster. Just look at any family sitcom on television and there's a self haircut horror story."

Blaine nodded, walking back towards the bathroom.

"You can go sit at my vanity, I'll be there in a second, just have to grab a few things"

"Alrighty then," Blaine said as he disappeared in the hallway.

I went to the bathroom, pulling myself together as I looked into the mirror.

It's okay Kurt, no big deal, I said to myself inside my head. There's just an insanely gorgeous half naked man in your bedroom, no...big...deal.

"If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, come on sugar, let me know." I could hear Blaine sing lowly from the other room.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I grabbed my grooming scissors and another towel, walking out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.

"If you really need me, just reach out and touch me."

"Okaaay!" I said walking over and draping the towel over his shoulders. Thank goodness for that, because I don't think I could work near his bare chest without actually touching. "Who's ready for a haircut?"

Blaine smiled at me brightly through the mirror in response, ruffling a hand through his curls as he chuckled. I picked up a lock of hair, extending it off the top of his head. "Wow, this is fairly long."

"Yeah, it's been a while." He replied sheepishly.

"I can see." I mumbled, turning around him to get a better look at his head of hair. "So how much are you willing to lose?"

"Well I'll be fine as long as you don't buzz it all off. I mean, I like my hair. I think it's...quaint."

"No no, don't worry, I won't chop it all off." I ran my fingers through it experimentally, "You actually have an excellent head of hair here, there's a lot of styling possibilities you can go with."

"Well uh...thanks!"

I picked up my scissors, lifting up a lock of his hair and mentally measuring out a few inches down. A deep breath rose in my chest and I snipped off most of the piece, leaving a lock of chocolate brown hair in my hand. I held it out in the mirror for him to see.

"And so it begins." He said, smirking once he saw my smile.

I slowly made my way through his head of hair, trimming it down three or four inches. I couldn't stop staring at him through the mirror as I worked. It was like this box of Greek god was being unveiled right in front of my eyes, and I was the one lucky enough to unravel it. The more I touched his hair, the more I began to love it - it was silky with gorgeous shades of dark brown and still a bit damp from the shower. Once I was done I just stared into my vanity mirror, still not believing the appearance of the person in front of me.

"Wow. I don't think my hair's been this short since...since..." He never finished his sentence, instead he grimaced and frowned a few seconds later.

"Oh...you don't like it?" I looked back at his head, trying to see if I forgot any pieces of hair that were uneven.

"What?" Blaine looked back up at me through the mirror, his expression softening until he was grinning at me again. "No, I love it. Thank you, Kurt, it's really nice of you."

"My pleasure." Was suddenly all I could manage to say because holy shitthat smile was so obviously sexy now.

YOOOOO, I'LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY, REALLY WANT. SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU REALLY, REALLY WANT.

I must have jumped about four feet, scrambling to my bedside table to grab my phone. Of course Jackie would be the one to call me right now, of course. She had set her ringtone to the Spice Girls song the other night during a prolonged rehearsal, I had just forgotten to change it.

"Hello?"

"Hummel! Where the hell are you? The show starts in like forty-five fucking minutes and you know it takes at least fifteen to get the monkey suit on!" Jackie whispered into the phone in a harsh tone. I gasped, looking over at my clock. How the hell was it 4:15 already?

"I'm coming!" I yelled into the phone before hanging up and running out of my bedroom. "Blaine, the suit's in my closet, there's a shitload of shoes to pick from under the racks! Be at the Gershwin Theatre by 5, I'll leave the ticket with the attendant at the door and there is an extra metro-card in the kitchen that you can use!" I grabbed my bag and keys, heading for the door. "Oh, and enjoy the show-OH MY FUCK." I yelped, his disgusting pair of shoes and their lovely smell greeting me by the door, stepping around them, plugging my nose and opening the door. "BLAINE, IF THESE FILTHY SNEAKERS ARE STILL HERE BY THE TIME I GET BACK YOU ARE SOOUT OF HERE."

"Finally!" Jackie whispered to me once I ran into the dressing room, already in her monkey suit. "Wayne was about to kill you, you're lucky I distracted him!"

"I know, I know, and I'm grateful. I just had a lot of crap thrown at me and I lost track of time." I sat down at one of the makeup desks and one of the makeup artists quickly began working on my face.

Jackie sat down on the stool next to me before pulling her mask over her face. "Yes Kurt, I'm sure you've had a long day but I mean this is Broadway. They'll replace you in an instant if you're not careful and god knows there are hundreds of unemployed dancers dying to take your place."

"Yes, god Jackie you think I don't already know that? I'm thankful that you saved my ass, I really am. I just had probably the longest day of my existence, so right now the 'irresponsible teenager' talk isn't very helpful."

Jackie nodded as she resigned to silence, letting the makeup people put my mask over my head before I reached for my suit. It had tons of very intricate parts, and you needed another person available in order to put it on. I stepped into the suit while one of the stage crew people began to latch and tie the parts at my feet.

"Besides," I said to Jackie while other lady worked, "it's kind of really your fault anyways."

"My fault?"

"Yes, your fault."

"Care to explain?"

"You forced me to go out with you and get hammered beyond belief."

"What," Jackie laughed, "was this morning like your first hangover or something? Is that why today's been the 'longest day of my existence'." She was mimicking me now, using air quotes and a ridiculous voice.

"No, it was not my first hangover, you alcoholic." I readjusted my suit in the groin area. These leotards are unbelievably tight and there was absolutely no graceful way to get in and out of them.

"Speaking of hangovers, I do not remember a thing from last night. Care to fill me in?"

I thought about what I was going to say for a second or two, not even sure where to begin. "I really don't think you're going to believe me."

"Kurt!" Jackie gasped, her face beaming. "Did you hook up with one of the male monkeys?"

I glanced around the costume designers, hoping that no one else heard her little outburst, especially the other male monkeys. "Oh my god, could you be any louder?" I said, almost putting my hand over my mouth, but them remembering that it would ruin her makeup. "No I did not sleep with any monkeys!"

I looked up, accidentally making eye contact with one of the costume designers. She gave me a really weird look to which I could only respond to with an awkward smile and wave. The sound of Jackie's giggles make me turn my attention back to her.

"There's a homeless man in my apartment that refuses to leave."

"Are you shitting me?"

"Not shitting you."

"Well wha-how the hell did that happen?"

"Well I apparently invited him to stay for the night because it was freezing outside and I thought he had a decent voice. Then I guess later on I told him that he could stay for the rest of the week because he was elegant or some crap like that. Rumor has it I'm a freaking Good Samaritan when I'm not in the right state of mind."

"Wow, I should have listened to you when you said you didn't like to drink."

"Yes, you should have!" It felt like I was letting her off too easy. "Bitch." There we go.

The lights flashed on and off and we heard the powerful first notes of the overture being played from the orchestra pit, and the chorus's start of 'No One Mourns the Wicked'. We still had a long while until our cue, so didn't have to rush to finish getting ready, however we did have to keep quiet.

"So you're leaving him alone in your apartment?" Jackie whispered.

"Well yeah, when went to school this morning I didn't really have a choice. But the weird thing is, when I came back he had made me pancakes."

"Well that's not so weird, I mean, if you gave me free housing for a week I would make you pancakes too. Sounds like pretty rational hobo."

"Oh god, I hope so."

"So did you kick him out yet?"

"Uhmm...no. I have not." I replied. Now that I said it out loud, the fact that I was still putting up with this sounded pretty freaking stupid.

"Ahuh," Jackie said, looking at me as if trying to study my features. "So, what, you and McHomeless-son are best friends now?"

"Well, no, more like...acquaintances?"

"Okay, well! Didn't think you'd be the kind of person to chill with a homeless dude all day."

"I really couldn't help myself."

Jackie looked at me like I had just told her that I was on a shit-cake diet. "Kurt, if this is some kind of weird old guy kink you have going on I really don't..."

"No, no, Jackie he's not old. He's 22...and he's...gorgeous."

"We're talking about the hobo right?"

"This morning he looked absolutely disgusting because his beard was like twenty feet long...honestly, who can grow something like that at the age of 22? Anyways, he had showered and trimmed his beard while I was at school and when I came back he seemed kind of attractive, so I didn't kick him out just yet. Then I said that he could come to the show tonight and I told him that he had to clean up his look in order to go. He shaved his beard and I gave him a haircut and holy hellit was like a sex god stepped into my apartment. Like honestly, Jackie, what kind of hobo has abs?"

"He's here?" Jackie jumped up from her stool, quickly moving out of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to see this 'sex god'." I followed Jackie up a set of stairs backstage to the rafters. There was some stage crew up there manning a few curtains and backdrops. Off to the side of the stage is a small room that is lined with TVs that display the security camera footage of the audience and stage. I looked down at the stage from where we were, (we had to be quiet because we were directly above the stage and we could be heard from the audience). I could see Elphaba sing 'The Wizard and I', making a mental note that we only had about a half an hour till our cue.

"Kurt!" Jackie whispered quietly, turning my attention from the actress onstage. "Where is he?"

I looked at the screen, scanning my eyes through the crowd of people watching the show. "I think his seat was for somewhere in the back of the balcony." I continued to look, gasping when I finally found the golden eyes I was looking for. His hair was gel and tamed, making it not as easy for me to notice that it was him. My suit looked amazing, and I smiled at my ability to predict his size. "There." I pointed to his head on the screen.

Jackie's mouth dropped open, she looked like she was about to say something loudly, but she slapped her hand over her mouth before any sound came out and just stared at me in disbelief. All I could do was grin proudly at the person sitting in the back of the theater. A smile crept onto Jackie's face as she got up and made her way down the stairs and off of the rafters.

"Okay, you should be thanking me, not making me apologize." Jackie said as I walked back to the makeup mirrors so the lady could finish up my face. I just smiled, putting the tan colored hair mask over my head.

About twenty minutes later it was time for us to get into the cage for the scene where the Wizard reveals all of the winged monkeys for the first time. Once the cover was thrown off, we began our complicated choreographed routine, jumping between ladders and metal bars. I snuck a peak at Blaine while crouching. He was smiling at us with his hands pressed together and touching his lips, obviously trying to figure out which one was me. I tried my hardest not to smile, I really did. I was supposed to be a miserable tortured monkey in captive for goodness sake-I was absolutely notsupposed to be smiling.

I folded my lips under my teeth, trying my hardest not to look at Blaine's widening grin at the other side of the theatre. My face was straining so much by the end of the scene.

"He was smiling at us!" Jackie whispered in a sing-song voice as we walked backstage.

I finally allowed my grin to be release from the chains of my cheeks. "I cannot let myself look at him next time we're on stage. It's so freaking hard not to smile back at him."

"Well now he probably knows which monkey you are...the one with his lips hidden behind his teeth and an uncomfortably pleasant and yet still pained look on his face."

When it was time for us to go on stage again, I began automatically giving myself a pep talk in my head.

You're a monkey. Channel your inner monkey. Monkeys aren't attracted to stunning hobos, they don't even find them that appealing. That would be considered bestiality, and bestiality is revolting. Freaking revolting. So don't you dare look at that beautiful bastard Kurt, keep your eyes trained on the sound guy, just like they said in the workshops.

And of course, when I was back onstage, I ended up glancing at him literally every seven seconds.

I counted.

"That's it. He can't come to any more of my shows. He's too big of a distraction. Now unzip me, please." I said to Jackie when we were back in the dressing room after the show. "So when are you finally done with classes?"

"My last exam is on Friday, and then I'm catching a plane home right after."

"Very nice, very nice."

"I am soglad my modern musical studies class is almost over. You know, when I signed up for it I assumed that 'modern' meant something like contemporary or current music...not music from the Modern Era." I said.

"Ew, I freaking hate harpsichords."

"Thank you!"

Ten minutes later we were sitting at the vanities in the dressing room, trying to remove as much of the theater makeup as we could. I was so overtired, running on energy that came purely from the pancakes. At this point I was just lazily stroking my face in random places with the toilette, just enjoying the feel of the cool, chemically processed makeup remover on my face.

"I am so glad that the producers are allowing us to take a few days off for the holidays. Last year, while I was a dancer for 'Grease', we had to do two shows on Christmas Eve. I was miserable." Jackie said, huffing as she capped the a bottle of lotion.

"Oh, I know. I think my dad would kill me if I wasn't back in Ohio for Christmas."

"I can't believe Christmas is only a week away though. I'm nowhere near done with my shopping."

"Me either, I don't even know what I'm getting for Finn or my father. I mean, Carol is easy because...well...clothes. When I get Finn or my dad clothes they usually just make a 'what the hell is this?' face and murmur an awkward 'thanks'."

Jackie laughed. "That reminds me of this time in middle school when I wanted my brother to take up dancing. I got him tap shoes for Christmas and he just stared at me."

We eventually got all of the crap off our faces, got all of our clothes back on and made our way towards the stage door.

"So where's Blaine?"

My eyes went wide as I realized that I had completely forgotten about him.

"I-I really don't know."

We walked out the stage door and out onto the freezing streets. I heard the door close behind us, followed by a slightly familiar voice.

"Kurt!"

I turned around to see Blaine move from where he was leaning against the wall.

"Blaine!"

He was still wearing the grey Armani suit (which looked absolutely spectacular on him close up) and his hair was gelled back. It was amazing how remarkably dapper he looked. And to think, twenty four hours ago he was singing on the streets, looking like my grandfather and smelling like shit.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Umm...I don't have a watch, but I'd say the better part of an hour." He replied.

My eyes glanced to Jackie, who was just standing there staring at Blaine like he was an artifact in a museum of hot.

"Oh my god, you must be freezing." I said, almost reaching my arm out to comfort him, but then stopping myself because I wasn't quite sure how I would do that exactly. "C'mon, let's get back to my place."

"Sounds good to me!" Blaine replied, then looking between me and Jackie expectantly.

"Oh! Um, Blaine this is Jackie, my friend and fellow winged monkey. Jackie this is Blaine."

"Yes, I remember you from last night. Thank you, by the way, I don't think I would have survived last night if it wasn't for you." Blaine said to Jackie.

"I umm-have no idea what you're talking about actually. I was just as smashed as Kurt was, sadly. But uh...you are welcome...Blaine."

We all stood there, awkwardly, for about twenty seconds, each of us not sure if they should be the ones to speak next. I decided that it would be acceptable for me to just motion down the street. Jackie and Blaine quickly nodded in agreement, and the three of us made our way down the street to the subway entrance.