Summary: Graduation is over, Kurt's still in Ohio. New York is still top priority but, he can't help but adore his new job involving a certain group of Warblers and his favorite language. It does help that he's found a new, albeit overly dapper friend in Blaine Anderson. Student-teacher!Kurt Student!Blaine
Title: First Day
Characters: Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson
POV: Third Person
Note: The title comes from one of my all time favorite songs by Panic! at the Disco. The song is Always and I definitely recommend it. Enjoy.
Kurt Hummel could pretend all he wanted that he was genuinely happy.
He could put on his charming, elegant smile, which he did, at the drop of a hat and pretend that he was honestly happy to be back in Lima, Ohio.
He could imagine that he was happy to be at Ohio State for his freshman year of college, in order to cut back expenses at NYADA for his remaining three years of college.
There were things, however, that Kurt Hummel was indeed happy about.
He was happy that his family was so close by and that they were all in good health.
He was happy that he managed to land a student-teaching opportunity at the prestigious Dalton Academy, rather than the dreaded McKinley High School. As far as Kurt was concerned, 80% of what made it worth it to even be at that school had graduated, if not with him, than a year or so after him.
Those were, of course, his best friends, who were now dispersed thoroughly throughout the States, some to model, others in hopes of landing a record deal and, a few as choreographers. Artie was sure to make a hell of a filmmaker, if Kurt knew anything at all.
Naturally, many simply weren't able to go to college together, with such conflicting aspirations.
Kurt was also delighted that his spot at NYADA had been secured and that his ever faithful best friend Rachel was kind enough to attend a year at Ohio State with him.
Okay, truth be told, Kurt knew that was a damned lie.
Best friend, or not, if Rachel Berry had been accepted into NYADA, she would've left Kurt's ass as soon as possible to grab her dreams by the balls.
Sadly, it simply wasn't meant to be and she felt that she could hold off on running to NYU and possibly ease her dads' expenses on her as well by merely waiting a year and trying again. Of course, she'd swear up and down that she'd only refused to go to NYU for the benefit of Kurt. It would be a travesty, according to her, for them not to fully experience the Big Apple together, simultaneously. Kurt called bull, in his mind, of course.
Kurt was currently lying on his back in his large, king sized bed, in his own nice, affordable apartment.
He was at the point in his morning where you know that you need to haul ass and soon but, you can't find a reason to. Sure, there are plenty of reasons to stop being a lazy bum on an early Monday morning but, the feel of seven pillows and new, plush comforters are offering you a far better option.
Kurt did, eventually, manage to yank himself from the near immersion of fluffiness surrounding him, tripping a bit on his way out of bed. He stopped to stare at it, noting the similarity between the shape of his silver toned body pillow, quite similar to that of a person the way the blankets were bunched around it.
It wasn't the first time that Kurt realized that it probably couldn't hurt to find himself a boyfriend.
As Kurt made his way to his large restroom, he found his previously selected outfit and strolled into the room, setting the clothes aside.
Once in front of his flawlessly cleaned mirror, he frowned a bit at the state of his hair. He probably would have made more of an effort to get up, had he known his brunette hair would betray him on his first day.
He sped a bit through his normal skin care regime before carefully styling his hair. Only once he had finished did he realize that it clearly was not a carefully-style-your-hair day. It was clearly more of a comb it, brush it, spray some stuff in about the general area that it's in and see where it falls day. He did just that and found that he rather liked the effect, which admittedly, made his life a little bit easier.
He quickly found a granola bar and a bottle of green tea for breakfast, deciding to take it with him and buy snacks at the school later on if he needed to. Thankfully, he already his lunch made. Private school food was still school food as far as he was concerned.
After scouring the apartment for a few minutes, he was able to locate his keys, cellphone and, wallet. Not for the first time, he wondered why he continually made his life more difficult by never leaving the items in the same place, and together for that matter.
As he walked through the doorway, he remembered that he hadn't watered the plants that his step-mother, Carole, had given to him when he first moved in and made a mental note to get back to that later.
The drive to Dalton wasn't that long and was actually kind of nice. Kurt had always enjoyed passing through Westerville and had only previously had reason to stop there for a change in scenery while shopping.
He found himself smiling upon pulling into a parking space at the school. The school was a beautiful array of red brick, placed elegantly into a tasteful gothic structure.
There were well-trimmed shrubs that were the color that you'd only expect to find on television and every blade of grass seemed to be cut to the exact level of the blade beside it.
There was a large bell tower on one side of the school and a beautiful, wide set of arching stairs that led to the large, twelve foot doors standing guard at the front entrance.
As Kurt neared the doors, he found that on each of the four doors, there was a heavy, brass doorknocker in the shape of intricate leaves nestled against the dark, cherry wood.
Moss also traveled along one side of the school in a way that Kurt would normally find disgusting but, on this school, it actually gave it a timeless, European feel. To put it lightly, Kurt was impressed.
However, he opted to ignore the doorknockers in spite of the temptation and settled for merely opening the door himself, stepping into what could only be called a receiving room.
The theme of the room was obviously tastefully placed golden accents placed against an overall pearl scheme that Kurt, surprisingly enough, actually approved of. The only thing he'd change would be the off-white leather ottoman pushed against a large chair in the far corner.
If he'd been in charge of design, he either would have found it in pearl, not off-white, or settled for a classic black, or even a more masculine brown. It was, after all, a boys' school.
There was a slight, red-headed woman at the front desk, smiling pleasantly up at him. "And, what can I do for you today, sir?" She asked sweetly, turning her head in a way that Kurt had to admit was kind of adorable, especially since she wasn't any taller than Rachel.
"I'm new. I'm the French student teacher, Kurt Hummel." Kurt responded, reaching to straighten out his vest as he watched the woman reach for something under the large window.
"Alright, then. Your info is right here. Would you like for me to find a student to give you a tour, perhaps? I would myself but, the dean has me nearly swamped with all this paperwork." She rolled her eyes at Kurt with a light chuckle, which he returned with a smile.
"Yes, please. I'm sure it's gonna take me a while to find my way around here. Might as well jump right in." Kurt shrugged, turning to admire the pictures mounted against the walls as she started to dial on the phone.
There were many paintings, some of landscapes, others of unconventional portraits of various people that Kurt didn't recognize. They were all distinctly unique but, one blaringly evident detail that they all shared in common was the fact that they were all beautiful in their own way.
In one picture, a black and white photograph, a girl was staring up at the sky, delight written plainly across her face and if you paid attention, you could just make out about eight drops of rain falling from the slightly sky, one sitting delicately against her cheek. What stood out in the photo was that, despite the rain, the sun was shining clearly in one side of the print, the light of the beams reflecting in the somewhat blurred trees in the background.
"What's really interesting, I think, is that every last one of these was done by students." A friendly, conversational voice remarked from behind Kurt that was definitely not Priya, if Kurt recalled her nametag properly.
No, this voice was deeper and even friendlier, if that were possible. Kurt wasn't sure.
Kurt turned to take in the owner of the voice just as Priya chirped. "Oh Kurt, this is-" Before she was cut off with a smile, not unkindly by the boy.
Everything paused a bit as Kurt took the boy in. He was shorter than Kurt and more compact and had thick, nearly black hair, which was over-gelled, in Kurt's opinion. He wore a navy blue jacket and grey slacks, obviously a product of the dress code at the school. His eyes were a deep, golden brown and vaguely reminded Kurt of an overeager puppy and were tilted into large, almond shapes.
"Blaine Anderson. You're Kurt Hummel? The student teacher, right? I've heard so much about you." Blaine gushed with an easy, charming smile. It was infectious and Kurt found himself grinning back at the boy.
Kurt had never been a fan of dogs, much less puppies but, suddenly felt as if he could make an exception. Just this once.
Should this be continued? Yay or nay?