This story is inspired by Ingrid Michaelson's song Mountain and The Sea. I don't know what possessed me to write a Klaine fanfiction but oh well, what can you do when it's already been done. You have no idea how hard it was to write so many paragraphs and stuff. I just hope it's good enough. It's a multi chaptered one, I don't know how long it will be and since it's summer time I will have foreeeeever to write it. Oh what am I saying? I graduated! HAHA! Well whatever, enjoy readers. Rated M for later chapters.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything. The song is Ingrid Michaelson and the show is RIB. So enjoy.
Moutain and The Sea
The streets of New York City can be so seductive. The city herself flows in rhythms as a women does, capturing everyone within her grasps. Once she has you, she gets in your blood. Then she pounds through your veins with every beat of your heart. New York City, she never sleeps. Time doesn't matter. Whether the sun is rising or setting, she is breathing, making soft sounds as though she is purring.
This city is his love, his passion and his being. She forces him to strive to excel beyond my own expectations. Was New York City his goddess? You can live, work, visit or die here. But you cannot have her. You can never own her. The footsteps on the sidewalks are her heartbeat. The stock exchange is her brain. Broadway is her talent. She was the center of the American life line. He was a main contributor to that life line and this put a smile of sweet delight on Kurt Hummel's face. He could feel the muscles in his face give his thoughts away to the outside world. New York was his mistress. He was sure that he could be seen thought the heavily tinted windows as he sat in the back of his long black limo. His chauffeur was driving him to his second love, work. Kurt stroked the seat beside him, he loved the feel of the soft buckskin leather. The aroma of wealth swirling around him was his aphrodisiac. No, he thought that would take away her flavour. New york was his seductress. That is how he liked it and that is how he wanted her to stay.
She held him in her power, enticed him at every turn. He would never leave. Hummel would take short leaves of absences from her only to return and tell her, from his penthouse suite balcony with a glass of his best wine, how much he missed her. The glowing halo of lights at night resembled long tresses of blonde hair. Her eyes were the twinkling lights from Broadway when he looked down to drink in their beauty. The only reason why Kurt was so fond of them was because her eyes were the best feature. New York may be his first love, but Broadway was his second. They sparkled at him in his tower every night whether it was raining or not. He drank in her beauty with the eyes of a lover. The city spoke to him.
"Kurt Hummel, you are alive when you are here each day. This is your domain."
He grinned. Kurt loved being king. He was almost considered King of New York. What he has achieved in the past five years since his graduation in Lima. He stared mindlessly out the window at the passing rush of the crowds. There wasn't a thing that he left behind in Lima except for his father, Carole and Finn, his step brother. He heard a small grunt from the driver and he realized that he was talking to himself aloud. Kurt noticed this and closed the plexiglass divide between them. He hadn't quite reached his goals that he had set for himself. Kurt still took the time each day to pat himself on the back for having the courage to move to New York alone with Rachel Berry herself. This young, gay man growing up in one of the nicer suburbs of this Great Lady.
"I am so close to having everything I've ever wanted. Just one item left on my list of goals, then I have arrived." Kurt had already achieved his wildest dreams. He starred him a Broadway show, multiple actually, before his starlet friend, Rachel, had. He met some of the famous Broadway stars that are still alive today such as Patti LuPone, Barbra Streisand and Burnadette Peters. Rachel was extremely jealous about that. He was missing one main component to having a successful life: love. His phone rang loudly, breaking him of his thoughts.
"Yes?" He spoke calmly and collectively. His agent's voice spoke through the speaker into his ear.
"Kurt, you have an shoot with the Broadway magazine photographer at 10 a.m this morning. He just called to give a friendly reminder, but I think he tried to see if you were going to cancel again. I told him to wait in the theater and that you were on your way." Stacey Mason spoke in a rushed tone and Kurt could tell she was fiddling with something. Kurt gazed out the window and nodded slightly, even though he knew she couldn't see him.
"Call him back, tell him that I am on my way and that he better be punctual. I don't appreciate it when other people are late."
"Sure babes, call you later. Or you call me when you get here." She hung up automatically and Kurt stuffed his phone away smugly. Reporters in this city knew that Kurt loved to be on time. If he was even a minute early, Kurt considered it late. All appointments were set in stone if and when they were made. It gave him a sadistic feeling when he got the pleasure to make other people feel smaller than him whenever they arrived at a meeting late. He felt like he finally got the power to make them how he felt when he was picked on in high school.
The limo came to a stop. Kurt looked out the window, waiting for the door to be opened. His eyes followed the side of the billboard that beared his name, his face and the Broadway play he starred in. He followed it to the very tip top where he could see the blue sky. In a soft and loving tone, Kurt whispered, "My darling, I will see you tonight." His driver, clad in a designer black tux, opened the door and Kurt slid out. He gave him an over view quickly before putting his sunglasses on. Kurt made sure that his staff was wearing what he thought was appropriate for work. Full uniforms and nothing less. He watched Stacey pull up in her sleek black Lexus. Time to get this over with.
Kurt adjusted his tie as Stacey lead him through the doors to the Gershwin Theater. She pulled out a notebook and scratched a couple things off. "So, the photographer will be here soon. I told him to arrive fifteen minutes early, but as you can tell.." Kurt turned her out as he stood in the house of the theater. Inhaling, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes. His home, his very home was where he was standing. Sometimes Kurt found himself thinking that Broadway was more of his love than the Great Lady ever could be. But it was impossible to actually be in love with a city. Kurt glanced at his watch and cursed silently. "He's late."
"I know, I'm going to try calling him again." Stacey dug through her purse like a mad women and just as she pulled her phone out, a man with a camera bag slung around his shoulder casually strolled through the doors. His mouth fell open as he let his eyes wander over the beauty of the building. Kurt couldn't help but feel a small pang of jealousy. Who was this man and why was he oogling his theater. He tore his sunglasses from his face quickly and opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out but a tiny squeak. This man standing in front of him was exactly like New York. His eyes sparkled and his smile was as dazzling as ever. He adjusted his glasses as he made his way to Kurt and Stacey. Kurt wished he stayed back so he could get a better look.
The photographer had curls that fell over his face and covered his eyes a bit, and a beard that was thick and dark. It made him look homeless, the exact definition that came to Kurt's mind when he thought of poor people in New York. But this guy worked for Broadway magazine. How come he wasn't clean, shaven and dressed up. He had perfect complexion from what Kurt could see and the way his smile widened as Kurt looked him in the eyes, the eyes that held his soul and every deep and dark secret. Kurt wanted to know them. He wanted him to tell Kurt what they were, why they were there and how he could help to make it better. But alas, he had no clue if there really was any issues with this photographer. Because this would just be a one time thing. The Great Lady was big enough that they would meet once and then never see each other again. That was Kurt's favourite part about her. The man stuck his hand out as he mouthed words that Kurt could not understand.
"Beg your pardon?" He squeaked and flushed. Never in his life in New York has he ever felt so low of himself. Kurt was a confident person now. He was changed. He cleared his throat and tried it again. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."
"That's alright, sir. I'm Blaine Anderson, the photographer. It is such an honor to meet you, Mr. Hummel." Kurt took his hand and gave it a firm shake, telling Blaine that he meant business. Kurt listened to the poor guy ramble on about him and then was interrupted by Stacey.
"You're late."
"I know, I'm sorry. I got caught in traffic, and I knew I shouldn't have stopped for that mocha. But if you wanted to get started now, it'll take me less than ten minutes to set up my equipment-" Blaine reached for his camera from his bag and Kurt sighed.
"Stop apologizing. Yes, let's get this show on the road. I have places to be, things to do and people to see." He adjusted his tie again and gave Blaine a once over. He noticed how Blaine shriveled under his gaze and Kurt got a smug look on his face. His power was unstoppable. Stacey followed Kurt into the theater where a very theatrical set up was placed on the stage. Kurt raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He stood on stage and then turned to where Blaine had set up his equipment. It was amusing. Blaine had cords everywhere, even he was wrapped up in one. The man raised his triangular eyebrows as his glasses fell from his face. Thankfully he caught them and positioned them back on.
"Okay well, as fun as this is, can we start?" Kurt tapped his foot impatiently on the stage. "Where do you want me?"
"Um, just over here.." Blaine pointed to the left side of the stage and offered Kurt more directions. It was weird for him, taking orders from someone else other than his agent. Kurt had grown so powerful in just five years that he could tell someone to jump and not only would they say how high, but they would ask what he wanted them to wear. And Kurt would just be thankful when it was over.
About time.. Kurt was unable to stop his mind from thinking. It was starting to get more difficult the more he was around this man named Blaine. He didn't know why but it intrigued him. Kurt tilted his head to the side in a thoughtful way as the last flash when off. Blaine nodded at this photo as he looked at it on his camera and Kurt sat up from the chair that he had indulged himself in. It was comfy, the cushions were welcoming and even though Kurt knew that from sitting on it almost every night in his show, this time it seemed to be even more relaxing. Kurt stood up to straighten his suit out and Blaine smiled admiringly at Kurt. Of course everyone wanted to be him.
"Good job, Kurt. Stay classy and I'll see you tonight." Stacey nodded towards Kurt as she walked past him, barely acknowledging Blaine, who was packing up his camera equipment. Kurt slipped his hands into his jacket pockets and he stepped down the stairs, stopping so he was standing directing in the line of Blaine's vision.
"Thanks. For this, I mean." Kurt Hummel surprised himself. And apparently Blaine too. Blaine's eyes were wide as he looked at Kurt. He had so many characteristics of a lost puppy, it almost hurt Kurt and made him want to adopt Blaine.
Blaine just nodded and gave Kurt a weak smile. "Yeah no problem. This is my job, so." Blaine shrugged. Kurt offered his hand to Blaine and he took it, shaking it softly. As Kurt turned to leave, Blaine blurted out, "Hey, did you want to grab a coffee?"
Kurt froze. His gears in his mind worked harder as he tried to process what just happened. No, absolutely not. Kurt barely knew this kid. He was so young and Kurt was.. well.. Kurt. He was cold. He was, to put it bluntly, a bitch to every one and anyone who knew him. He was a pain to work with. He didn't do dates, or coffee for this matter, with anyone other than Stacey and that was because she was his agent! Kurt sighed and turned around, his eyes angry, blazing with fire and his stare bore deep into Blaine.
"Listen, Anderson. This was just a simple meeting for a photo shoot. Nothing else. I don't know what you're playing at but if this encounter even comes close as to getting into that article, I will end you and your job. You don't know me, you're not my friend. Go back to packing and goodbye." Kurt put his sunglasses back on and walked out, his body rigid. What had just happened.
Blaine watched as Kurt left. A look of confusion set across his face. It was a harmless question and he didn't see why Kurt had gotten so upset.
You don't know me. His words etched themselves into Blaine's mind and he continued to pack, slower this time.
"You don't know me either, Kurt Hummel. And I may not know you, but I want to."
TO BE CONTINUED!