Kurt walked down the street towards his apartment, croissant in hand. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Kurt would have been whistling if it weren't for the pastry currently in his mouth.

Warbler's Delights.

Just the name sent a shiver of excited anticipation through Kurt.

Warbler's Delights.

The reason why Kurt mostly ate salad, or at least something non-fattening until after work.

Warbler's delights.

The best bakery with the the cutest Baker in town.

Kurt sighed dreamily as he thought about the baker in question. Kurt had never looked in his eyes, but he seemed nice enough - he was always smiling and laughing with his fellow bakers - and he seemed cute enough - if his adorable mop of curly hair was anything to go by - and Kurt had a schoolboy crush on him because of it.

Then again, Kurt wasn't a schoolboy. He was a grown man - 25 to be exact - and worked as a designer at Alexandra Taylor - the new, yet popular, design team founded by a woman by the name of Alexandra Shopwell.

The Taylor part was a homophone for tailor - and that's what the team did, as well as design outfits for celebrities, runways and other extravagant affairs. Kurt was one of about 100 people who created and traded designs to be contemplated for the runway, for special requests, or for their lower priced line. The best part of the job, Kurt thought, was that he got to do what he loved while still being able to walk the steets without being recognized. The building he came out of weekly (and often daily, just to have a reason to pass Warbler's delights) looked like an office of a business firm. Nobody knew that they were passing by the team of designers responsible for at least one of the clothing items on the body of every other person they passed by.

Kurt was no exception, with his self designed blazer, and was wearing dark purple skinny jeans, courtesy of his friend and colleague Lucy.

Humming to himself, Kurt finished up the last of his croissant, unlocked the door to his apartment, and stepped inside. He was greeted by the soft meow of Lizzie, who jumps down from her perch on a chair as he closes the door. He bent down to rub her head, then gave up on his crouching position and sat on the carpet as she climbed into his lap. "Hey kitty," he softly murmured as she looked up at him, purring. "Yah know," he began with a laugh, "He smiled at me today. I grabbed my croissant from Josh and when i looked up, he was turning around, and he caught my eye and he smiled. But then again, there was a really pretty Brunette behind me." Lizzie meowed, and Kurt chuckled sadly. "I know, I know...story of my life." Lizzie meowed again, causing Kurt to push her off lightly and stand up. "Okay, okay, I'll get you some food. Thank you for letting me tell you my sob story first you silly cat."