Chapter 1

                Blaine wiped down the bar for the twenty-seventh time that night.  He ran the back of his hand across his forehead, and then re-adjusted his top hat. The low pounding of the bass laden music, that was emitting from the intricate tower system of black and gold gramophone horns, was making his ears pop again. He refocused on the mob of people waiting on the opposite side of the bar for his attention.
                “What can I get you, sir?” Blaine shouted over the music. The burly gentleman with silver goggles and a bowler hat held up two fingers and Blaine thought he lip-read the word ‘ale’. He grabbed two glasses and spun them in the air and caught them again before proceeding to the row of elaborate drink taps.
                “What about you lovely ladies?” He shouted again, as he passed off the drinks in his hand to who he hoped was the person who ordered them. The two girls smiled back and ordered an amaretto sour and a red wine. Blaine spun and mixed and poured the drinks as the two girls stood there grinning at him. He’d seen them in here before. The one always wore an eye-patch and Blaine sometimes wondered if it was just part of her costume or if she really had a problem with her eye. Tonight her hair was in loose curls and held up to one side with a golden rose, which upon further inspection was actually made of hundreds of tiny watch cogs. Her blouse and corset were very ‘authentic’, something that many people here would be envious of. Her friend, however, seemed to love the more theatrical side of costuming. Tonight her hair was flaming red under a small burgundy velvet top hat. Her corset was the same burgundy colour and her blouse and skirts were deep purple with gold buckles holding gathers of fabric in provocative positions. She winked a heavily painted eye at him as he passed off their drinks and motioned for him to ‘keep the change’. Her continuous attempts to flirt both amused and annoyed Blaine. He was not watching for the ladies here.
                “Jesus, Blaine I’m SO sorry I’m late. I know Saturday is busy” Blaine turned to see his co-worker burst out of nowhere and adjust her apron, hair and miniature hat in one swift movement.
                “It’s ok Tina, it just started to pick up a few minutes ago” Tina flashed a smile at him before brushing past to the far side of the bar. Blaine grabbed her arm and spun her back around. He reached up his thumb and wiped the smear of lipstick from the corner of her mouth. Tina flushed, mouthed ‘thank you’ and went back to work. Blaine knew she was late because she was probably making out with her boyfriend in the back alley. It annoyed him a little, but then again they didn’t get to see each other much due to the jobs they worked. Maybe he was just jealous.

                The night continued in a monotonous fashion. Or at least as monotonous as it can get in The Cog and Whistle. There never seemed to be a ‘dead’ night, but Blaine found himself tiring of the repetition. Decipher order, pour drink, accept money, try to remember what the drink total came to, return change, on to the next one. It’s not that he didn’t like his job, this place had saved him long ago and he loved it dearly, just he kept thinking that he had more in him than bartending.

                Lost in his thoughts, it took two elbows to the ribs from Tina to get his attention. She simply nodded in the direction of the entrance and proceeded past him. Blaine followed her gaze. He smiled a little. His two favourite customers had just arrived, looking ravishing as usual. Rachel and Quinn bee-lined for one of the small tables lining the edge of the room. But then Blaine realized that these two were not who Tina was directing his attention to. Attached to Rachel’s hand was someone new. A tall boy with dark goggles nestled in his tousled brown hair. His powder-blue shirt and vest stood out amongst the sea of black and brown. His free hand was gloved and coiled with tiny pipes and wires. A crank powered flashlight? Is that what that was? His view became obstructed by the ever-moving crowd of people in front of the bar. It was only then he realized he had been holding his breath. He shook his head, feeling stupid. He tapped Tina on the shoulder and gestured that he was taking his break. She smiled and nodded and went back to trying to guess garbled drink orders.

                The cold autumn air hit Blaine harder than he had expected. His black shirt and scarlet vest did little in the way of keeping the night breeze at bay. He checked his pocket watch. Midnight. Only two hours left to go. The image of Rachel’s tag-along friend floated back into his mind’s eye as he leaned against the wall, taking a sip from his water bottle. Who was he? A new boyfriend? Blaine thought she had mentioned one before, but thought she also said he ‘wasn’t that into all this stuff’. He had also thought for a while that she and Quinn were actually a couple, but had seen the way Quinn flirted with other men. Maybe Rachel had a brother? It’s possible, although Blaine couldn’t decide if he looked older or younger than Rachel. It was hard to tell. More importantly, why did the sight of this guy make his stomach drop to his knees and his lungs stop working?
                He blew some warm air into his hands before going back inside. As he sidled back behind the bar he was met with the two smiling faces of Rachel and Quinn. Rachel’s friend stood a few feet behind them, trying to keep his balance as people bustled around him. Blaine tore his attention away from the newcomer and greeted his two favourites. Quinn, as usual, was perfectly put together. Her deep green high necked overcoat outlined the curves of her neck perfectly. A single black ebony button held the coat closed at her waist. A cream coloured blouse protruded from where her coat lay open at her chest. A neatly tied ascot sat at the base of her throat. Her hair was knotted up to one side of her head and she had a miniature hat, much like Tina’s, that looked to be pinned to her hair. Most impressive, to Blaine at least, was the monocle that she often wore. Blaine had tried to master the look but it always looked like he was scrunching up one side of his face too much, and whenever he talked it fell out. But Quinn wore it with ease and grace. It added another level of sophistication to her smooth face and dark lips. Tonight Rachel donned an odd beige top that was gathered at her neck and then seemed to be only held in place by the brown leather bustier she had on. Straps came up from the side of the bustier, over her shoulders, and then wove into a beautiful leather pattern down her back. It looked like they could be shoulder holsters, though Blaine couldn’t figure out where you would fit a pistol to it. Her hair was brushed loosely back and clipped in a messy but deliberate manner. One of Blaine’s favourite things about this job was following the fashions of these two.

                “What’s the drink tonight, my lovely ladies?” He barely heard what they said as the tall boy was pushed awkwardly into Quinn’s back. His green eyes shot a dirty look over his shoulder and then moved down to examine his lantern-glove. Blaine couldn’t decide if his expression was that of boredom or shy awkwardness. Rachel must have seen Blaine’s gaze because the next thing he knew he was being introduced.
                “This is Kurt” Rachel yelled. “Kurt, Blaine.” She gestured back over the bar. Kurt raised his head and gave a small smile and an awkward wave before looking back as his feet. “Kurt just moved to New York about a month ago,” Rachel continued. “He’s from Ohio. I don’t think he’s really used to all…this” She gestured around the room. Blaine nodded and then remembered he was a bartender.
                “What were those drink orders again?”
                “Cherry whiskey and soda for me” Said Quinn
                “I think I’m doing Cranberry and vodka tonight” Said Rachel, squinting at the lit drink shelves behind the bar.  Blaine nodded. “What about you?” He shouted to Kurt. Kurt looked up and quickly shook his head with his palm forward. Blaine was a little disappointed. Something in him wanted to know this guy’s drink of choice. He was turning away when a sudden movement made him turn back. Kurt had stuck his arm out between Rachel and Quinn to get his attention again.
                “Maybe a water?” said Kurt. Blaine smiled and nodded. Their eyes met for a split second. Blaine could feel the cog work in his brain spin wildly out of control. He imagined gears that hadn’t been wound in years were clicking and shifting back into motion, trying to remember how they worked. Everything whirred around and then suddenly settled and locked into place. He imagined a small red beacon now blinking away in the innermost regions of his head.

                bip.….bip…..bip…..bip…….

                Is that what people meant when they talked about having a ‘gaydar’? Blaine had never experienced that before. He always knew that someone was gay before trying to strike up a conversation. He was always introduced to his friends’ ‘gay friend’.  But Blaine knew nothing about this guy. Kurt, his name was? And yet some kind of all-knowing spark had set the gears in motion, so to speak. Blaine blinked to break the brief eye contact. He hoped he wasn’t obviously flushed, but suddenly the cold air outside would have been welcome in this increasingly hot and stuffy room. He let his eyes wander back to Kurt as he poured drinks for Quinn and Rachel. The more he studied him the more obvious it seemed. His vest was made of a fine brocade that shone in the dim light of the bar, but wasn’t so shiny that it was tacky. A hard feat to pull off.  His shirt was clean with not a wrinkle insight. The sleeves were neatly rolled up past his elbows. His face was pale and flawless. His hair, although tousled, had the impression that not a hair was out of place. Of course he was gay. Right? How does one ask something like that? Maybe Rachel would tell him. What if it really was Rachel’s brother though? That would make things awkward, especially if he wasn’t gay. The drink glasses were full so he had no choice but to go back over to continue conversation. The girls smiled and paid him as he grabbed a sleek glass water bottle from the fridge and leaned across the bar to hand it to Kurt. Kurt made to dig in his pocket for his money when Blaine started waving his hand in protest.
                “Water is free for DDs” He shouted. Kurt considered him for a minute, seemingly unsure whether Blaine was joking or not, but he eventually smiled with a small nod, and wove his way back the small table that Rachel and Quinn were now occupying. It was true, drinks were free for the Designated Driver, however Blaine knew full well that they didn’t drive here.

                He was distracted the rest of the evening. He kept stealing glances towards the table at the far side of the room. A few times he thought he saw Rachel or Kurt look away just as he looked up. A few times he thought he saw them talking to each other with a sideways glance towards to bar. But there were so many people in the room it could easily have been Blaine’s imagination. He checked his pocket watch again. Almost 2 am. He tapped Tina on the shoulder and gestured his head.  She nodded with a small look of relief on her face. Blaine walked over to the shining silver whistle situated behind the centre of the bar. It was mounted on a giant cog that may have once been used in a clock tower, although Blaine wasn’t sure of its origin. The Cog and Whistle. The bar logo. He wrapped his fingers around the golden braided cord that hung down to his level and gave a sharp pull.

                FwwweeeeFffwweeeeeeeewwwww

                “LAST CALL” Blaine bellowed as he spun his bar towel over his head a few times to attract more attention to his announcement. He stole a glance back over to the table at the far side of the room, but found it empty. Feeling slightly disgruntled, he continued with the last few drink orders while trying to simultaneously clean up. The burly gentleman he had served earlier in the night stumbled into a chair while his giggling female companion attempted to help him up. Tina must have been serving him all night, or maybe others were buying drinks for him because Blaine hadn’t seen him again until now. A number of other ‘regulars’ laughed their way past the stragglers and out into the cold October morning. Still, not a sign of the three people he was most hoping to see again.
                With the bar packed up and the lights extinguished, Blaine bid goodnight to Tina who hurried off into the darkness, no doubt to curl up next to her boyfriend….what was his name? Mike?...for a few hours before he had to get up for work himself. Blaine tugged the collar of his black hip length trench coat up over his ears and began to walk in the opposite direction to his apartment.
                It was a small one bedroom apartment, but it was better than studio and for this corner of town, it was in pretty good shape. Blaine entered his building, only a few blocks from the bar (another thing he lucked out on) and walked past the black iron gate that barricaded the elevator door. It only worked sometimes and Blaine didn’t desire to be stuck inside during one of its ‘moods’. He longed to break into the utility shaft and inspect the gears, but he had a suspicion that there was also a hydraulic system in place, which he knew nothing about. Also the landlord probably wouldn’t look too kindly on tenants breaking and entering anywhere but their assigned apartment. He climbed up the stairs to his 8th floor room, the penthouse he liked to call it, since his was the only apartment with access to the roof.  He unlocked the door and did his habitual hip check beside the handle to un-jam the bottom corner of the door. Home sweet home. The smells of bacon and old socks hit him first. He made a mental note to do dishes and laundry…sometime. He popped his top hat onto the head of a clockwork Dalek that he had completed work on a few months before. Having a hobby like building clockwork knick knacks was frustrating at the best of times because a lot of parts were hard to come by in this age of technology. He had given up on the Dalek very soon after starting it because he knew he was in over his head. He needed to keep his hands busy, but sometimes his mind worked faster than the rest of him and things didn’t work out the way he wanted. That’s why he liked playing his guitar. His brain and his fingers seemed to be on the same page with that one.

                 He had almost taken the base of the Dalek apart a few times, but then he saw the movie Hugo and fell in love with the automaton. He must have been staring at the whole film with his mouth open because before he knew it the movie was over and his throat was parched. He rushed home afterwards with a new sense of purpose and finished his model within a few weeks.

                His second proudest possession was his CD player/radio disguised as a gramophone, which he poked on his way past and it came to life with the muffled sound of someone singing a slow ballad to violin. The speaker was actually in the horn so everything he listened to, from top 40 to classical, had a distinct ‘tinny-ness’ to the sound.

                He carefully placed his pocket watch on his dresser beside the other two he owned. He hung his clothes in his closet and donned purple and black plaid pajama pants and a black hoodie. Since it was 3am he should feel tired, but he didn’t. He was used to being up late now. He made himself a jam sandwich and stood in the middle of his apartment munching away. A sharp whistle made him turn to the far side of his pathetically small living room.

                “Of course I didn’t forget you, Pav.” said Blaine, soothingly.  He walked over to the Victorian looking bird cage that took up one corner of the room. At least he had Pavarotti to talk to or he might go mad up here alone. He reached his hand inside the cage and stroked the breast of the little yellow bird. He shared part of his bread crust and filled up the seed bowl before closing the cage again. Pavarotti cocked his head to one side and hopped sideways on his perch a few times before floating down to his seed dish.
                Blaine sighed and looked around again. Alone.
                His thoughts turned again to the green-eyed boy at the bar. Rachel’s supposed friend. Kurt. It was stupid to think that he’d ever see him again. Although if he began to frequent the way Rachel did, then Blaine would get to see more of him. But what did that matter if they could never hold a proper conversation past “Water, Please. Here you go.”  He sighed again and grabbed his guitar. He pushed open the round window at the end of his bedroom and climbed the thin metal steps of the fire escape up to the roof. It was even colder up here than it felt outside of The Cog. The Autumn wind cut through his sweater and he pulled his hood up over his hair. Not that the wind could further mess up his mop of curls, but it made his neck a bit warmer. He sat on the ground and strummed a few chords before deciding that it was just too cold for this particular pass-time now. He stood up again and walked to the edge of the roof. New York sure was beautiful at night. The view made him remember why he fell in love with this city to begin with. Sometimes it was hard to remember why he stayed here after all he had been through. He looked up at the sky towards the light of the few stars that were visible through all the light-pollution. He picked out Cassiopeia, The Queen on her throne. What good was knowing the constellations when you couldn’t see most of them? He shivered and took one last look around before climbing back down to the safety of his apartment.

                In the building across the street a pale, green-eyed boy walked over to his window and stared at the city street below as he wiped the last bit of foundation from his face. People.  So many people. He thought again of the hazel-eyed bartender. Any one of those people could be him. Was it too obvious to go to the bar again? Rachel had said he was cute but Kurt was not expecting his to be so…dapper. So perfect. It would almost be embarrassing to show up again just to continue to stand there and not say anything. But how could he when the guy was obviously engulfed by his job?

                Kurt sighed and looked up at the sky. Nothing.  No stars. Not like at home. Oh, no wait, there was one. Two. Five. Cassiopeia. The only thing that was just the same here as at home. He straightened himself up and reminded himself how this was his dream and he wasn’t going to let homesickness drag him under. Finn and Rachel were here, he knew Quinn now. He wasn’t alone. Almost not alone. He left the window and curled up in his bed.

                The lights in the two neighboring apartments went out. And eventually both men found sleep.