Hello everybody!

I know I'm still working on my first story, Undergrad Blues, but the concept for this came to me about a month ago. Initially, I simply published this chapter, then took it off because I wasn't certain as to where I wanted the story to go. I have since come up with some ideas and will be updating as often and as regularly as possible.

This Glee Fanfic is a little different from the others in the sense that it doesn't take place in the fictional world of the television show, but, instead, focuses on one (or some) of its actors in the real world in Hollywood. The action will take place over the course of a year (give or take) and focuses on a character I've created, a struggling aspiring actor named Isaac Bechstein, and his accidental (if not unusual) meeting with one Grant Gustin.

Also, a disclaimer: I've not (yet) met Grant. All I know of him comes from various interviews, articles, and tweets. He definitely seems like a nice guy, but his motivations, intent, and character in my story are all from my own imagination (and, I confess, fantasies.)

I hope you enjoy it! Any and all feedback is welcome!

"...They find each other in the crowded streets and the guarded parks..."

-a lyric from the Broadway musical Company

Shortly after I turned twenty-three in November, I was faced with a particularly nasty case of disillusionment.

It happened almost randomly and appeared seemingly out of nowhere. All of a sudden, one day in early January, it simply struck me with the force of a speeding freight train. In an instant, a dark cloud of depression hung over me. Of course, it didn't take me long to figure out why I was having such feelings.

I was a struggling actor with hardly any leads. On top of that, I was single with absolutely no signs of ever finding someone. My spirits and morale were at an all-time low. I was down-and-out and I found it increasingly difficult to find the strength and will to wake up each morning. Loneliness and misery were the only words I knew.

So naturally, I turned to Craigslist.

If you've ever been on Craigslist, then you know all about their infamous personals section. Basically, it's a online Red Light District of all the desperate, taboo, fetishistic things you could possibly imagine, all on display for those who seek them. The personals harken back to the basic roots of human nature, reminding us that we truly are animals beneath the mask of so-called civility.

Luckily for me, I was a fairly normal, tame, sane guy. I wasn't looking for anything outlandish or absurd. I was merely looking for a quick fix, a one-nighter, anything to get my mind off the woes and tedium of this newfound sentiment of disillusionment.

I found it in a rather modest ad titled "22-year-old seeks romantic partner for late-night fun." I responded via e-mail, he replied shortly thereafter, we exchanged stats and information (I learned that he was 5'9 with medium brown hair and green eyes, lean built, and was averagely endowed,) and agreed to meet that evening at his place in North Hollywood.

Does such impersonality surprise you? In all honesty, I was more surprised than anybody else when I found myself in the shower later that afternoon, primping and getting ready to meet with a complete and total stranger for nothing more than anonymous sex. I must confess, here and now, that such behavior was out-of-character for me. But again, as I said before, I was lonely and desperate for something, anything, that would make these dark, depressing feelings go away.

My heart pounded in my ears as I stood on the stranger's doorstep.

His house wasn't too shabby. It was on one of those typically suburban tree-lined drives on the border of Burbank and North Hollywood. The porch light created a small bubble of illumination that stretched to the sidewalk, my shadow standing tall and looming over the walkway like a shady figure out of a film noir movie.

With quite a bit of nervous apprehension and a sudden weight in my stomach, I knocked. It was a timid, tentative knock but regardless, I stood back and waited for my "date" to answer the door.

No sooner had he heard the sound did he appear in the doorway, leaning against the frame in a sultry manner. As I took a look at his face, it registered, and my eyes widened, no longer from nervousness, but from absolute shock.

It was Grant Gustin, star of Glee and former member of the national touring cast of West Side Story.

He was even more handsome and beautiful in person, but I just couldn't shake from my mind the fact that what he was setting out to do with me was something private, secretive, and discreet, just between us. I was an avid fan of Glee, and despite the fact that he played Sebastian Smythe, a wicked gay villain, I'd never read anywhere that he had publicly admitted to being a homosexual; thus explaining my complete surprise to see him answer the door.

"Well," he said, his voice heavy and sultry. "I figured you were good-looking, but I didn't think you'd be quite so beautiful."

My mouth hung open and my eyes remained as wide as saucers as the compliment fell short and flew over my head. I still couldn't concentrate on a thing save for the fact that the stranger I'd agreed to meet was actually Grant Gustin. It just goes to show you that you never know who you'll meet off of Craigslist personals.

The handsome young man stepped aside, allowing me entry into his home. "Come on in," he said softly, tilting his head in a beckoning manner as if the simple gesture would give me cause to flounce through the threshold. I plastered an awkward smile on my face and stepped through the doorway. I heard it click shut with finality behind me, as if it were metaphorically sealing my fate.

"Please, have a seat," Grant said, gesturing toward a cushy sofa in the middle of the room. "Would you like something to drink?"

I didn't say anything as I apprehensively sat on one of the cushions. Nevertheless, he replied, "Do you like Chardonnay? I'm afraid white wine is all I have at the moment."

I opened my mouth and finally managed to squeak out an attempt at an answer. "That's fine." It sounded hoarse and unintelligible.

Somehow, he must have been able to distinguish my words. "Great! Just sit tight and I'll be right back." He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room.

If I hadn't been so taken off guard by everything, I probably would have noticed that the place was nicely furnished. There was a medium-sized flat screen TV directly in front of me and a bookshelf along the right wall was filled to capacity with old-looking volumes.

But, again, all I could think about was the up-and-coming celebrity in the other room. It suddenly struck me that he probably had no idea or inkling that I knew who he was. My mind was positively drowning from all these thoughts, so much in fact that I didn't hear Grant return.

"Here we are," he said softly but startling me nonetheless as he returned to the living room with two crystal stemware glasses filled with golden wine. He put mine on the table with a clink but held his in his right hand. I sat, starting at it.

"You know, I didn't do anything to it. I'm not that kind of person."

I return my gaze to his confused face and giggle a little too awkwardly and nervously despite his hurt expression. "No, I'm sure it's fine. I'm just not very thirsty right now…"

Grant suddenly titled his head sideways, scrutinizing me. "Is everything okay? You seem a little tense."

Once again, nervous laughter escaped my lips. "I seem tense?"

"Well, yeah…" Grant put his glass on the table and cracked his knuckles. "Maybe I could help you with that." He flashed me a charming grin that actually made my heart skip a few beats. "I've been told I have magic hands."

I physically scooted over to the opposite edge of the sofa, internally cowering in fear and uncertain of what he was about to do. "No, no. I'm quite alright, thank you…"

But Grant was just as quick, if not quicker. He sidled over to the cushion right next to mine and gently planted his hands on my shoulders. I shuddered. "Just relax," he said in barely a whisper, and as he started to work his magic on my knot-ridden back, I felt, at least in that moment, all my thoughts, doubts, and fears melt away. My eyes nearly rolled back into my head as his warm hands and fingers poked, prodded, and worked out the kinks.

"How does that feel?" The sweet scent of the Chardonnay lingered on Grant's breath as he practically whispered the question in my ear.

"That feels fine," I replied in an almost obscene groan.

Grant chuckled softly before he said, "Maybe it'd be easier if you took off your shirt."

My heartbeat started to once again pound so loudly in my ears that I almost couldn't hear myself answer. "No, I'd much rather keep it on, thanks."

"Here, if it makes you feel more comfortable," Grant added, shifting on the couch. "I'll take mine off."

My eyes flew open. "No, no! Please, that won't be…"

But it was too late. Grant tossed his shirt aside and sat there, bare-chested, right next to me. Our eyes locked and I did my best to keep them fixed on his green eyes. I could feel him consuming me with those eyes but I refused to let myself gaze anywhere south of the face.

"…Necessary," I finished.

It happened so slowly. Even now, as I recall it, the images play back in my memory like a film in slow motion. He leaned in, inching closer to me until his face was almost a blur in my vision. He crawled, almost on top of me, as I knelt back on the arm of the couch. His lips were so close to mine that I could almost taste the tantalizing Chardonnay. The sweet, natural fragrance of his body was intoxicating and overwhelming and it made me drunk with lust…

…But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't do it knowing who he really was. What about his career? What about the fact that he was publicly lying to himself? So I spoke up.

"No, please. I just…I can't do this…," I sputtered and gently pushed him aside as I rose off the couch.

Grant's face showed concern and something deeper. Was it fear? I couldn't completely tell. "What's the matter?"

I shook my head as I fumbled to get my jacket back on. "It's not anything you did, I can assure you. I…I just can't do this."

He wouldn't let it go. "I don't understand…"

Frustrated more at myself, I unnecessarily lashed out at him. "IT'S YOU!"

Grant recoiled but quickly regained and held his ground. His expression flashed anger only for a moment. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's just…" Finding the words in that moment was so damn difficult. "I know who you are…" I paused and licked my lips. "…Grant Gustin."

His eyes widened with the realization. A panicked expression overtook the one of anger that had been there just seconds before. "Oh…," he said, his breathing shaky.

"I know who you are," I repeated with a nervous, dark chuckle. "I'm a huge fan of Glee and I've known you since the national tour of West Side Story. I don't expect you to remember, but I met you at the stage door. You signed my Playbill."

The shadow of a smile formed on Grant's lips but he kept quiet.

I continued. "I didn't know it was you until you answered the door tonight. We didn't trade pictures or anything in our initial e-mails, so I had no way of knowing. But if I had known, I wouldn't have gone through with it." I shook my head once more and turned to face the door. "I'm sorry."

Grant suddenly spoke up and his words were a rapid, panicked stream. "You're not going to tell anybody…Are you?"

I fixed a dead-serious expression on my face. "I'd never do anything like that, Grant. That's not the kind of guy I am. What happened here tonight is just between us. My lips are sealed. But, and I'm not saying you should, but if you are going to continue meeting with guys this way, you have to be careful. Some people will give you what you want only to stab you in the back with it. Craigslist can be pretty shady. I'm saying this because I'm a concerned fan who cares about you." I gave him a warm yet awkward smile and stuffed my hands in my pockets. "Good night, Grant. I hope you have a good life and keep doing what you do best."

I was halfway out the door when I heard Grant's voice calling after me. "Wait…"

I stopped and turned to face the beautiful young man who was now standing by the threshold. "Before you go, can I ask you for a small favor?"

Nodding, I replied, "Of course. Anything."

Grant suddenly opened his arms. "Could you give me a hug?"

I was taken aback. It certainly seemed a strange request, but I nonetheless stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. For what seemed an eternity, our hearts beat together as one and we seemed to become a single, living entity, a symbiotic organism in which one couldn't live without the other. In his embrace, I could feel a suppressed longing and yearning that he'd probably kept to himself for God knows how long. It almost made me want to cry.

Finally, I disengaged from the embrace and the two of us smiled at one another. "Thank you," Grant said in barely a whisper. Then, without a word, he escorted me to the door and I walked onto the porch. Proceeding back to my car, I didn't hear the front door close until I was seated inside the driver's seat.

My brain was a swirling mass of images from all that had just taken place. They played out like a movie in the cinema of my mind. I heaved a heavy sigh and took off down the street.

In that moment, I never thought I'd see him again. Little did I know that this chance encounter was only the beginning.

To be continued…