The moon, beautiful and perfectly visible, made the place a kind of dream. The lights of New York shining tirelessly. The boy blinked a few times, with a delighted smile on his face, trying to convince himself that it was real. Some well-dressed people walked a bit rushed into the street, as an impromptu parade of several designers together in just one place. Another hand grabbed his own, making him smile. And then, when he turned to kiss-

"Blaine." A loud, but still distant.

Blaine shifted somewhat in his sheets. The uncomfortable glare caused him to wake up immediately, his brown eyes shining brightly. He closed his eyes again, trying to continue his interrupted dream.

"Blaine!"

He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, refusing to try to recognize the voice. One thing he was sure: the dream was incomparably better than his reality.

"Blaine, damn it!" Cooper screamed louder, half opening the door.

"Morning for you too." He muttered, turning to the opposite side and looking at the clock. In two minutes it would start playing. Two minutes would make much difference. If Cooper had screamed out two minutes later, he would know who he was going to kiss in the dream.

A crowd waiting for him. He smiled to himself, a happiness almost unreal. In a few minutes he would show his talent, the talent of the greatest star, for people who would recognize him and aprecciate him. He looked once more to the wonder of one of the most charming streets of New York. Broadway. Yes, Broadway shone for him. He closed the window of his dressing-room, and went almost prancing toward the stage. Applause. He smiled at his public, and then, when he was turning to smile specifically for the person in the front row, cheering more excitedly than everyone-

OH I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY
I WANNA FEEL THE HEAT WITH SOMEBODY
YEAH I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY
WITH SOMEBODY WHO LOVES ME

The alarm rings insistently at the bedside. Kurt takes a while to open his eyes. He stretches himself with a certain irritation, and stretches his arm, looking for the alarm on the nightstand. Coming up in the examplar of Pride and Prejudice and in the small catalog with the newest creations of Marc Jacobs, before hanging up.

He kicked the sheets slightly down the body, revealing the soft and pale skin, covered only by the pajama pants. He still takes a few minutes to get up and walk toward the bathroom.

Decided steps walks toward one of the lockers. Kurt opens the little door and look at himself in the mirror, arranging his brightly colored scarf around his neck. He ignores a giggle behind him and look at the piece of paper perfectly organized with the schedules of next classes.

"Kurt?"

He turns and looks at the brunette girl. She puts a lock of long dark hair behind her ear before hugging him.

"Tina!" He smiled. For the first time someone in that school was happy to see him.

"Santana told me you were studying here, but I didn't see you yesterday!" She said, backing away a little bit and running her finger down the agenda schedules attached to mirror. Kurt had forgotten how Tina seems ends every sentence with an exclamation point.

"I didn't see Santana here."

She stopped the finger on the paper at hear the sentence, and looked up, seeming to try to remember something.

"She has the fourth time with us." She smiled, when finally reminded what the friend had said on the phone last night. And then turned her attention to the role again. "Ohmygod you're in the glee club"

"Why is this so bad?" He asked, looking at the little note written on the corner of the paper. "I mean, I know, but I don't- well, no one likes me anyway. And last year we were in the school choir. You seemed to enjoy."

"Hey, I didn't say it was bad. I just said ohmygod you're in the glee club" She repeated, laughing softly. "I'm also in glee."

Kurt felt somewhat relieved. At least he wasn't so alone after all.

"And we have the same class now."

"English." He agreed, closing the locker.

"Don't be stupid, Blaine" Santana rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows that you hate football."

"It's not true." He crossed his arms.

She raised an eyebrow, looking at his also crossed legs and his hair.

"You use too much gel." She noted.

"So why would I be on the football team?" He reinforced his theory, ignoring her comment.

"Answer me yourself." Santana said, but now she was smiling. "Blaine, I'm not Puck, Finn, or any of the guys in football, so stop trying to convince me and listen to me. You joined the team this year, but you definitely don't like football. You almost broked your wrist in training yesterday. Your wrist! And it was just the training! And you use too much gel."

He sighed and leaned back in the chair of the Lima Bean, staring at the table. Right.

"You're stupid." He muttered.

"Just because I know?" Ok. So Santana has a point. "I didn't and I won't tell anyone, because you are my friend. And you're okay with the other kids. You're okay with the team. You're okay because no one on the football team found out. What I think totally unbelievable, even if you're there only for two days." She shrugged. "But that's the problem. You're always just... okay"

"So it means that..."

"That you can continue only 'okay' for how long you want. But sometime you'll get tired."

He sighed again, shaking his foot under the table.

"I told you, I care about you." She stressed. "And I'll still be your friend if you'd stop pretending, because i don't care about it. You can don't believe, but i'm not like them."

Blaine took a sip of coffee, playing with the button of his bag resting on the table.

"I'm your friend. I don't care that you hate football. I don't care that you took the facial cream that you had given me just because your skin is ridicously soft. And I don't care that you talked to Kurt Hummel yesterday. And that you were looking at his ass."

He could feel his face flush strongly.

"I wasn't looking at his ass."

"Oh of course not." She joked. "And I totally didn't broke up with Sam to be with Brittany"

"What?"