Hi! This is my first multi-chapter story. It was inspired by one of my favorite stories of all time. I had to write this. I'm in a dark place write now and when I'm in a dark place, I tend to write. This is the product of my pain. I hope it doesn't bring you pain but something to love.

~ Mar

There are only a few people in the world who are lucky enough to be called one of the "Lucky Ones". I'm not kidding with how few they are among us. They are the ones who are lucky and wise enough to find real love among all the destruction, all the hate, all the hurt and pain that comes along in living in this world. Although they've found the one, there isn't always a guaranteed happy ending that comes along with their strong relationships. These "lucky ones" who were gifted the power to love have experienced a bit of problems to receive such gifts. Then again, what is love without facing the consequences it brings with it? It would only be a shallow emotion that we take for granted. Most people do tend to take it for granted.

We all have to admit it. It is very difficult to truly and I mean, truly love someone, with all our heart and with our entire mind.

How do you love someone is so far away from your grasp? So far from your reach that it's basically impossible to come in contact with him? How can you love someone who you are not allowed to touch, but you one whom you feel so close to, you feel a connection that's so bizarre yet so perfect in its own imperfect way? And most of all, how do you love someone who is oblivious to all the hints of love to begin with? How?

This story is about desire, disappointment, and misunderstanding. It's a story about how beauty is able to distract a monster from his shield, his inner aggravation, and bring him to taste of what love is.

This is a painful love story of beauty and his monster.

Chapter One: The Beauty is in Love with The Monster

Kurt and Sam's apartment, 6:00 pm. Manhattan, New York.

Staring at the television flickering in front of me, I could almost memorize every single word and line that escaped from his lips, down to the last line and syllable. He was inspiring. He was spectacular. He was…breath-taking. His curly hair, covered with perspiration. His hazel eyes, filled with wonder but at the same time excitement; he looked like a little boy. And most of all, his lips…his luscious lips were so enticing, so hypnotic that I almost want to skip the Chinese food I was currently eating for dinner and replace them with his lips.

"Kurt? Please don't tell me you're still watching that movie?"

Distracting me from the amazing and timeless movie I was watching, my roommate and best friend, Sam, settled himself onto the couch, sitting right next to me and stared at the television with a hint of curiosity in his emerald eyes.

From the television, he turned his eyes to me and said with a hint of teasing. "You know, this movie is getting really old."

His comment was enough to make me feel exasperated that I had chosen him as a roommate to begin with. No one tells me my favorite movie was old without getting punished, Kurt Hummel style. Wearing my famous glare dubbed by one of my best friends, Santana, my "bitch glare", I said with annoyance. "Let me remind you this is a timeless film."

"Timeless? This film was released last year." My roommate remarked with amusement. Apparently, he is amused when it comes to teasing people about their favorite movies.

"Shut up," I commanded, placing my dinner onto the little coffee table in front of me that I bought from a sale. "Also, go away. You have homework to do."

He rolled his eyes at me. "That is the last thing on my mind right now, Mom." He remarked sarcastically. "Thank you for bringing up such meaningless things in my life." He added.

I snorted. "Well, it is not like you to not procrastinate. You're the King of procrastination." I teased, earning another eye roll from my annoying roommate. After that, he became quiet. This pleased me because the next scene was one of my favorites. My eyes were once again, glued to the television screen as I let the action star entice me with his smile and his vicious moves.

After the scene was over, I let myself lean my back against the couch, shaking my head a little as I'm still coming down from the high that the scene gave me. That scene always gave me this kind of reaction, the kind of reaction wherein you need to fan yourself from too much hotness and amazingness.

"My God…" I can't help say with my breathless voice. "Blaine is so…is so…"

"Stupid?"

My annoying roommate filled in the gaps for me, to which I don't want him to. Sam's jokes were getting old, not the movie. His jokes are fucking old. "Fuck you, Sam, fuck you!" I cursed at him. Then, I went back to what I was saying. "He is so handsome, and manly, and strong…"

Suddenly, a hand was over my mouth. I turned to Sam, who owned the hand that's covering my mouth, looking at me in a "are you for real?" expression. "Kurt," He said slowly, as if I was a child. "You sound like a girl."

At that moment only, did realization hit me with a strong force, I sighed, feeling a part of my masculinity fall from me.

I grabbed his hand from my mouth and pulled it away from me. "Will you fucking fuck off?" I asked him, pissed off with his jokes and his insult to my masculinity. Then I thought, maybe he would respond if I'm polite. I added, "Please?"

He looked over at me once more and then sighed as he stood up from the couch and walked away from the living room. "Okay. Okay." He agreed. "If you want me to go so badly, you just need to say so."

With a smirk on my face, I returned my eyes to the television set. At long last, no more distractions from the annoying Sam to sidetrack me from the movie. I grabbed my dinner back from the coffee table and continued to memorize every move of the most amazing and breath taking man in the world.

I'm Kurt Matthew Hummel. But no one calls me Matthew so call me Kurt. I 'am twenty-three years old and I'm a college student-journalism major. I'm not like the other college students here in my university. I see myself as the unfortunate black ship of the journalism students. Unlike majority of the students here, I'm not part of any "crowd". Though, there are girls at the university who find me hot and attractive and guys who would do anything to take me out on a date…can't blame them, I'm that awesome.

Leaving the room just now is my annoying roommate but also my very best friend, Samuel "Sam" Evans. He's also twenty-three like me but that's about it that we're similar off. You see, Sam and I are polar opposites. We are as different as can be. I'm quiet while his noisy. I like reading while he likes listening to audio books. I like action while he likes gore. I like Chinese food while he likes hamburgers. I like men while he likes women. Opposite as we maybe and annoying as he maybe, I love him…as my best friend. We've been through a lot, especially in high school when I came out as a gay man while his family had a financial crisis. During those horrible times, we clanged to each other and that cemented a permanent friendship.

Who? Who is that on the television screen? That is Blaine Anderson and if you haven't heard about him, then you're probably living under a rock or dead for a long time and only just revived now. He is one of the most famous movie stars of my generation. He is twenty-three just like me. Unlike me, he has an idea of who he is. Because of his charisma, allure, and boyish charms, almost every girl in the States is in love with him, fangirling him until he couldn't take it anymore. That's Blaine Anderson, my idol.

At times, I find myself thinking that I'm in love with him. I'm completely clueless how I could possibly fall in love with someone who I have never met; I have never spoke with; I have never even saw with my own two eyes; or someone who I never come in contact with.

I can guarantee one thing though. The moment I laid my eyes on him in this movie; my heart fell fast and hard.

He was my world these days, my whole life; the owner of my soul. Ridiculous as it may sound, I'm not kidding. Blaine Anderson is my world.

"KURT! You want to go out tonight?" Sam bellowed from our kitchen. "I found this great dance club just around the corner-want to come and dance with me?"

I shook my head. Going out and dancing in a club is farthest thing in my mind right now. On my mind right now, is how could Blaine Anderson be human? He doesn't seem like one. No one could be that perfect. "Nah…I'm gonna have to pass on that offer. Thanks though."

Sam looked disappointment for a second but immediately shrugged, grabbed his keys from the counter, and headed out to the apartment door. "Suit yourself,"

He closed the door behind him, leaving me in the living room alone, except the melodious voice coming from Blaine. For a moment, I felt very lonely and alone. I almost felt sorry that I didn't accept Sam's offer. Maybe I should go out and dance with him.

But that thought was immediately forgotten, when a red-headed woman who played Blaine's love interest in the movie appeared; "You bitch," I murmured, glaring at the woman. That should be me. My skin was paler, almost porcelain. My hair was lighter and my lips were a trillion times more hypnotizing than that woman's. The one that Blaine should be kissing on top of the Empire State Building should be me. Me. Me. ME!

I stood up from the couch and headed for the refrigerator to get a bottle of beer. As I opened the refrigerator door and felt the cold air hit me, I asked myself. What am I thinking? I spend my days and my night alone, in love with him, when I could be out there, socializing, dancing in a club with Sam and meeting bachelors every night.

I sighed as I closed the refrigerator door. Heading back to the living room, I thought of a wish. If only there was a way to meet him…if only I could see him in person, then I could bear…

…bear to exist a second longer in this world.

Los Angeles International Airport, 01:13am. Los Angeles, California.

"Oh my God! It's him! It's him!

"He's here! He's fucking here!"

"It's Blaine Anderson!"

"He is so hot! Love his hair!"

"Blaine, can I have an autograph?"

"I love you Blaine! I'm the only one for you! We're meant for each other!"

"No! Don't you listen to that crazy girl! I can be your wife! I'll always be faithful! I'll do whatever you want."

"I will please you in anyway if you just touch me!"

"Sign my breast, Blaine!"

"Fuck me! I'll carry your child!"

"Get him!"

"Hello everyone! Nice to see all of you!" The curly-haired '5"6 movie star waved awkwardly at his fans as his bodyguards surrounded him from the crowd. A forced smile was stuck on the handsome star's face, making his complexion brighten with masculinity that made his fans scream even more.

After maneuvering hectically through the sea of fans, he finally settled back in his limo and fetched himself a glass of red wine as one of his bodyguards prevented the fans from approaching the vehicle.

There has to be some way to control this fans of mine. Blaine thought. Every girl in the States was head over heels with him, offering him loads of love and adoration. What could he say? He was loved.

The term "loved" does not necessarily mean that one is truly "loved." His fans love for him was truly fake-taking the evil shape of materialism and outer beauty. They only loved him as a famous movie star and singer. They didn't love him for who he is. And Blaine detested it, with all his heart.

He reviled the supermodel actresses he was paired with in movies and the wealthy idols who had always wanted to couple up with him. One love he was able to handle was the love from his fans. They, out of all people, respected him for his talent and hard work, unlike the materialistic actresses who wanted him for their own amusement, for their own gain.

The actor sighed as he stared out the window. His dream was to leave the States. He needed a break, some time alone for himself. He didn't want to spend his days with fake actresses and wannabe singers. He wanted a freaking break.

Lucky for him, his new movie was set in Paris, the city of love; a city very far from the States. He is sure that there, he can find time for himself; time to be alone and away from his overly-loving fans.

He regrets to admit it but, he wanted a lover. It's been years since he last had a relationship, back when he still wasn't famous and was merely a young boy singing at coffee shops every Tuesday and Thursday. With his profession, lovers aren't easy to find. He didn't want someone who is extraordinarily wealthy, but one who is simple.

One who would make his heart beat fast in simple ways.

One who would was able to take him through his day with her smiles.

One who would make life really worth living.

He felt like a fool for not finding an individual as simple as her.

He sighed deeply, hoping that his next movie would take away his thoughts of love and her.

Most of the time, he refers to himself as a monster or THE monster. Why? Because he was one. Of all the years he's been an actor, he focused nothing more than work, work, and did he mention, work? Nothing more, nothing less. He was a certified workaholic.

He has a good reason why he was one. He wanted to ignore all signs and hints of love. Because honestly

…is there really such a thing called love?

Hope you like the story. TBC.

~ Mar