This story, like many stories, begins with two things: a city, and a woman. The city is, of course, New York. To find the woman -and oh, what a woman that is! - you have to go all the way to Manhattan, to the Great White Way, to the place where dreams come true. In a small Broadway theater that advertises 'Funny Girl' in bold, proud letters, you can find, if you arrive at the right time, in a dressing room upstairs, the star of the show: diva extraordinaire, Rachel Berry.
Rachel is the woman you came to find. Although this story isn't about her, you need her to find those we are really looking for.
Rachel is probably sitting at her dresser. Depending on when you arrive, she may be wearing a bob-cut wig; her real hair is much longer, though it is of the same, rich brown color. She is not exactly pretty, but certainly attractive, she is petite, but has a lot of personality to make up for it.
You should talk to her, if you want – though maybe you should have remembered to buy some flowers. Compliment her on her performance. It doesn't even matter if you have seen the show; she is always good, and knows it, accepting compliments graciously but naturally as her birthright.
Be nice to her. She doesn't only demand it, she deserves it, and she is one of the loneliest persons you will ever know. The soulmark on the inside of her left arm, this little mark made up of the letters F, C and H, is black, and although she had a little heart tattooed around it, it will never be the same. She had been one of the lucky ones who had met her soulmate early in life. She had had her mark for only a few months when the quarterback of her high school football team had touched her arm and both of them felt a sharp, burning pain when their marks, hers, and his with the letters RBB, had turned red, indicating that they had connected with their soulmates. Rachel's promise of forever had started then, and for her taste, the future couldn't come fast enough. She had been engaged by eighteen, married by nineteen, and a widow by twenty.
She is twenty-three now, and she has decided, despite everything, to try to be happy.
It is now time for you to leave. Follow me; you can wait outside to get her autograph, if you want, although you don't have to wait in the crowd to do that. You're with me, I can get you anywhere.
When she leaves, you should follow her. You are lucky today, she is not going straight home, but meets someone for a very late dinner. It would be too early for you to go to her home, even if she can't see you if you don't want her to. Anyway, you wouldn't be able to meet the person you want to meet if she was going home.
Follow her through the well-lit New York streets as she walks to the restaurant. Be quiet now, you don't want her to hear you. It's time to watch and listen now, but don't worry, I won't let her see you.
The person Rachel is meeting here is one of the reason she still, in spite of everything that happened, feels lucky. She is very successful in her career, and playing the role of her dreams at such a young age still sometimes seems unreal to her, although she knows she is more than talented enough to deserve it. But the person who has always been there for her, who helped her through the elation and heartbreak of love and through the ups and downs of a cutthroat industry, is sitting at a table waiting for her.
It is a young man of almost ethereal beauty, with elaborate clothes and immaculately styled hair. He is sipping from a glass of white wine, but smiles warmly when he sees her.
Look at them. Don't be shy, they can't see you. You can come a little closer. Can you see them? Can you see how much they enjoy each other's company? There is familiarity between them, and a lot of love, but no spark, no romantic attraction. You can see they are not a couple. Rachel wouldn't be ready for that anyway, not so soon after losing her soul mate, even though she would have no difficulties finding a lover who was, perhaps, in a similar situation as her, or simply tired of waiting to connect.
As for the young man, her friend – he has a different reason for only being her friend – for only ever being a friend to any woman at all. You have probably guessed it. The young man – his name is Kurt – is gay. Somewhere, or more accurately, at a party in a building only a few blocks away, there is another man with Kurt's initials in his soulmark.
Just, please, don't tell anyone. I know I can trust you with Kurt's secret – although it isn't really a secret. Some people know. Two, in fact, apart from me and now, you. A lot of other people suspect. Kurt is not exactly out of the closet, but he's not really in it, either.
Kurt is in the public eye a lot. Not for his own sake – he is a junior designer in a small fashion label who has the potential of one day becoming a big name, but is not there yet. But Kurt's father, Burt Hummel, is a candidate for the post of Ohio State senator, and all of his movements, his words and his connections, are closely observed, scrutinized, and gossiped about. And Kurt – Kurt loves his father more than anybody else in the world. Even more than that, he believes he is a good man who could really make a change in the world. He wants him to succeed, he wants nothing more than to see his father become senator.
And so, Kurt is careful. He doesn't tell people he's gay. He doesn't go to bars, he doesn't get drunk, he doesn't hook up. Over the years, as his father slowly rose through the political ranks, he has become used to being his own severest critic. Before he does something, he asks himself, how will this be seen? Will the way I act affect my, and thus my father's, reputation? And no, before you ask, Kurt's father doesn't want him to do this. He has asked Kurt, many times, to not waste his youth watching his every move. He has insisted, in fact, that Kurt at least choose a career path that could make him happy, even if it might be seen as 'gay' by some. He is an active fighter for gay rights, and he has made Kurt swear that he would never outright deny being gay.
So Kurt just hopes he won't be asked directly. There are rumors, but he ignores them. He is not ashamed of himself, but he knows, all too well, the way some people in Ohio still see anything out of the ordinary, and he doesn't want to influence them against his father. To avoid questions, he rarely leaves his house. He goes to work, and he meets with Rachel once or twice a week, and that's it. And yes, he, too, is desperately lonely.
They have now gotten over saying hello and ordering their food, and we should be quiet and listen to them talking.
"I need a favor," Rachel says, and you should know that although she really needs him to do this for her, she also thinks he should do it for himself. Rachel is a demanding friend, but she also honestly loves Kurt. He is the most important person in her life right now, and she wants him to be happy.
Kurt, a little wary, asks what she needs him to do. He is used to her, but despite everything he gives up for his father, he is no one who lets you walk all over him. He will probably give in to Rachel after a little persuasion, but only if what she wants is reasonable and within limitations he set himself.
"There's this party next weekend," Rachel says cautiously; she knows he will protest. "It could be really important, all the right people will be there. I could make a lot of useful connections – so could you, for that matter! - but I can't go there alone. Please, Kurt?"
"Rachel," Kurt says with the expression of a mother who has told her toddler the same thing about three hundred times. "You know I don't do parties."
But Rachel knows him. She wouldn't just ask him to any party. "It's really small and exclusive, it's invitation-only, there's no press allowed inside, and you wouldn't even have to drink."
Kurt stares at her, clearly thinking of any reason to decline. "...You're paying for the cab," he says, knowing it's a weak retort.
"I'm paying for the cab," Rachel confirms, quickly hiding her triumphant smile.
Let us leave them alone. They will go home soon, anyway. Kurt has work tomorrow, and on the nights he meets Rachel, he goes with much less sleep than he would like to.
It's late. Are you very tired? I could let you go home, if you want to, but if you're up to it, you should meet one other person, and he is best met at night. It is, in fact, early for him to go home, but we're in luck – there he is. He is dressed in black and red, there is glitter in his hair, and his eyeliner is a little smudged. He is walking a little too careful, but only a very attentive eye can see that he is drunk, and not only a little. But he is used to it, and so he doesn't stagger, and he doesn't slur when he's talking. You shouldn't talk to him, though. Oh, he will be charming if you do, and if you didn't have me to tell you, you probably wouldn't know something's wrong. But there is so, so much wrong with him, and he is just beginning to realize that himself. That's the reason he left the party early today, and that's the reason we should leave him alone. He deserves a little peace and quiet, a little silence to hear his own thoughts, and he very rarely has the opportunity.
You see? It's already over. Two girls have spotted him, and they giggle excitedly and come over to talk to him and get his autograph and take a picture, and he's smiling at them and complimenting them and asking their names. And they don't see – but you do, don't you? - that his smile is too bright and doesn't reach his eyes, and that it is, in fact, only the alcohol in his blood that keeps him upright and doing his duty.
The girls leave, and you can see the mask fall away from his face as he slowly makes his way home, where he will sleep his hangover away until afternoon and then, tomorrow night, go to another benefit or fundraiser and sing, talk and smile, and drink, drink, drink.
His name is Blaine Anderson, he is a singer well on his way to becoming a star, and he is – you have guessed it - Kurt Hummel's soulmate.