Well. I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am even thought it hasn't accumulated to much. I have no idea how serious this is going to get, but ill try my best not to disappoint.

Also, thanks to those who are leaving some feedback. Very highly appreciated. I'll post in a few dias!

Document XX

It was Friday. Finally. What a week, Kurt thought. He was tired –exhausted to be exact.
Work was hectic, always too many things to do in such little time. Even though he didn't mind, it still made him feel like he climbed mountain Everest at the end of every week. But the work had to be done and no, no one was going to climb mountain Everest for him.
He needed his non-fat mocha to finish his week off just right. And tasty. He sat in his normal spot in his favorite Starbucks. He was pretty much known there. He came and never missed a day. Everyday after work, no exceptions. Always making it right at 6 when the sun was setting. Not that he could really see it, but enjoying how the city went from daylight, to bright lights of the night. He loved it. It was one of his favorite parts of the day. He enjoyed watching people running around, coming in, ordering their usuals and leaving. Never looking back. Never looking side on either side, just ahead, never enjoying the smell of the fresh coffee beans Starbucks had to offer or—

"He will be expecting your message." As a man, with black, shaded glasses, suited up all in black said to him, turning around without a second guess and leaving, Kurt stood up a few seconds later after taking in what the man had said. Bemused, he put his drink down on of the coffee tables in front of him.
He lifted his hand, as if to stop him, with already more than 20 questions formulated ready to be asked.

When he turned around to see that the man had left the store all to quickly, he looked around bewildered as he sat down, slowly looking around as if waiting for something to pop up. He put his hands on his pants, straightening them. He finally sat down in the comfortable one sitter he was previously seated in, crossed his legs as he picked up his coffee and looked around one more time. He shifted a little only to find a paper, folded neatly beside him.

Who the hell, Kurt thought. What is going on?

He looked next to him, to his right to be exact. He saw a guy seating down on his phone. He was dark haired, with big brown eyes with Guess glasses on.
Casually dressed.
Spiffy but not too over due.
Then, he looked to his right to see a bunch of teenage girls giggling and drinking their coffees they shouldn't be drinking. They're definitely hyper enough.

No, seriously what the hell is going on.

Kurt takes hold of the paper. Studies it and then opens it. He honestly expected to find some secret code to a spaceship that NASA was planning on sending but he only found a phone number. A phone number not even from his area.

He will be expecting your message, Kurt thought to himself.

Kurt scans the store again at the same time as he pulled out his phone, dialing.

...

"Rachel Berry are you pranking me!? What the hell is going on?!" Kurt spoke into his phone as he left the store, drink in his hand walking faster then usual. He needed to get out of there. He felt like he was being stalked and watched, and New York City is a very big place with too many things happening at once with so many people. Scary.

"Kurt what are you talking about? Can I get a simple hello before you start howling at me for something I'm pretty sure I have nothing to do with?!" Rachel answered in one breath with an irritated tone that followed.

"Look, Rach—I'm sorry. Hello Rachel! How are you? Tired? Do I have to listen to you complain about your perfect life once again?"

"Kurt, really—that's not nice. I've been working extremely har-"

"No, listen Rachel. Something really weird happened to me in Starbucks today and I'm so confused and I have no idea what just happened. Are you trying to set me up because honestly Rachel, it isn't funny anymore!"
When was this funny in the first place? Never, that's when.

"Kurt!" Her gasp scared him even more as he heard her ruffling things in the background.

"This is serious, Rachel!" Kurt was almost shouting at this point. She really didn't have anything to do with this? Oh, God. His coffee is coming up, he feels it

"Ugh, I know Kurt, but you keep screaming at-" She was cut off once again by one Kurt Hummel. Stubborn like always.

"Forget it. Just— never mind. It's fine," he said trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible, but failing miserably.

"Oh, come one Kurt. What happened? Tell me. I'm listening. I really am."
Kurt turned the corner, finally reaching his street. He slowed down to catch his breath. He was honestly worn out and fed up. But fed up about what exactly? That some random, suited up guy gave him a phone number that he had no idea who it belonged too? Wasted energy. He just realized he got worked up for nothing. Wasted energy.
As he walked down the street, he threw his mocha away into a garbage can as he passed by it, no longer enjoying his happiness in a cup. He honestly hated people. They ruined everything. He took a long breath in and answered.

"Rachel, if a random guy came up to you in Starbucks, as you obviously tried to enjoy your lovely evening—" He talked, walking up the porch steps to his apartment building. He reached his door, going up his few stairs while reaching for his keys in his satchel. He grabbed them as he held his phone held in between his shoulder and his ear as he continued. "And he told you that 'he would be expecting a message soon' and walked away like you weren't even in the room..And—and then, you find a paper with a number not even in the area?"

The ruffling in the background stopped.

"Kurt, Kurt.. Are you drunk? It's 6pm, for goodness sakes! What— where are you Kurt? I'll pic-" Her rushed worried tone of voice made Kurt picture her getting out of her comfortable seating, rushing to her bag ready to leave what he guessed was her house.

"Rachel, Rachel I'm home and no, I'm not drunk and I'm fine. Can you just answer my question?! Really, please? Be a friend. For once." He sounded serious then and she knew he wasn't playing.. Nor drunk. She gave a sigh. She started thinking and a minute later she spoke again.

"I don't know Kurt. I'll- call? Send a text message maybe? Maybe the person is trying to reach out. Or maybe the person on the other line is a secret agent trying to find a case-I don't know, Kurt!" She basically shouted the last part. Why was she shouting? She's not getting stalked, selfish.

Or maybe he was selfish..

Kurt gave a light, nervous-like chuckle. He obviously forgot how crazy she was.

"Okay, Rach. Thank you. Really," he sighed, stepping into his apartment. She really was the only true friend he's had ever since high school. She was a keeper. He hung his bag and his jacket up on the coat hanger next to the door as he sets the keys down on the table. Home sweet home, he thought, finally.

"Hey, I'll see you Sunday, right? You promised me we would spend quality time together and such."

"Yes, I did and yes we will. Gosh, I've been so busy. We've been so busy. But Sunday, of course. I'll see you then?"

"Yes, I'll see you then." As Kurt was about to hang up he heard Rachel speak again.

"Hey, Kurt- ah.. you're ok, right?" Rachel caring about someone beside herself? Yup, a moment to take in and appreciate it. He smiled, a small one. You could hear the sincerity behind her voice.

"I'm fine, Rachel. Really. Thank you again and I'll see your crazy ass soon." He gave a small laugh into the phone, shaking his head. She laughed on the other line and hung up. He honestly did adore her.

After finishing the conversation, Kurt put his phone in his back pocket. He took off his shoes as he walked over to his couch and plumped down putting his legs on the little coffee table he owned. He put his head back, legs spread it a bit, breathing in and out. He really was tired. You would think bossing people around and drawing the whole day as your job would be calm and relaxing. Well, nope. Not at all. It was time consuming, half the time the people you have to delegate around don't do what they're told. Drawings don't succeed or never come true and everything could go right or it all could come crumbling down with a simple yes or no. You have to be focused and driven and you actually have to draw to get things done. You can't even color outside the lines. Not fun.
Kurt stayed in that position for what seemed like 30 minutes, but it had only really been 5. He tried to relax, but his mind kept racing. It kept going back to that number folded in that paper.

'Maybe I will send him a message. I mean, it's not going to hurt me, right? Maybe Rachel is right. I should do it. I haven't been intimate in how long..? It can't hurt.. What happens if this is a complete phsyco? I mean, It's only a message..' Honestly he was losing it. Texting a random number of a person who he doesn't even know? Kurt's mind was racing 100 miles per hour by now.
He took out his phone from his back pocket along with the folded paper. He unlocked his phone, opening up a new message and typing the number from the paper.

201-3...

...

He finally entered his office, putting down his three phones, badge, gun, walkie talkies and other materials down on his office desk. He throws himself in his chair as he puts his feet up on top of his desk, ankles crossed. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and puts his head back with the biggest smirk in his face. Whew.
David entered the office floor a few seconds later, going into his office across from his partner. He mimicked after Blaine, putting down all his belongings and seating down. Legs on top of the desk, ankles crossed. Head back. They both took a long breath at the same time, out their mouths and in through their noses, smirking.

"So. Did you get a message?" David asked as he lifted up his head with a wink as he looked at his best friend. Honestly, the things he does for this guy.. too crazy for words.

"Nope," Blaine answered. All with a smile planted across his face and eyes closed. So cocky. "Thank you again, man. I can't believe it actually worked. We weren't even discreet. We could've freaking gotten into deep shit for that." Lifting his head and opening his eyes, he looked across the room towards his friend as he spoke. He gave him a devilish smile. "You are my best friend so you really had no choice anyways," he finishes.

"Keep talking," David threatened, standing up and walking to his mini fridge in his room. He opened it and took out two Pepsis glass bottles. "Man, he better send you a message or some thing because then I did alllll that work for nothing. And I will be hella pissed. And you don't wanna see me hella pissed, you, mister, over there. You." He pointed at him with one finger with his eyebrows raised, eyes wide and head titled to the side. He sat his drink down on his desk as he picked up his phone ready to type a message and throwing the bottle of Pepsis across the hall into Blaine's room. Blaine had grabbed one of his phones, unlocking it, not moving his eyes from it as he put his hand out, catching the soda can and setting it in front of him.

"Dude. He'll send me a message. I looked him up. He has nothing to do on Friday nights so I obviously have a date. Sebastian Smythe is mine toniiiiight." Blaine was always too confident for his own good. He was really full of himself. But better to be confident then to not, right? He set his phone down, finishing with it as he put down in his calendar that Friday was to be kept opened.

David chuckled. "I should've given that paper to the wrong person. I bet your big ass head would've gone down a bit," he said while opening his drink and putting it to his lips.

Blaine just looked at him with a death stare and turned away. He had work to do. He didn't have time for David's smart remarks.

One of Blaine's phones vibrated as he was typing out the report for the day. He picked up to what he guessed was the phone that vibrated and saw that he had received a new message from an unknown number. Blaine smiled as he leaned back into his chair, smiling from ear to ear. "Pst," he hissed at David as he waved the phone in the air while the screen flashed with a new message. "Lookie here, my man. This flashing on my phone is as important as the chinese you eat from Hunan's."

"Now, you're just being an asshole, dude," David said with a high-pitched voice, hands on his chest, head pulled back with the silliest duck face. "Listen here, don't mess with chinese, Anderson. You know how sensitive my seasame chicken makes me. No. Joke." He now became a little serious than he intended to, but it was a serious matter. Just being honest. He was not playing games.

Blaine gave a laugh and waved him away. He opened the message from the unknown number.

From: Unknown
Am I supposed to say something clever?

Blaine chuckled as he read the message.

To: Unknown
Nope. But you can tell me anything you want tonight at 8.

He smirked while typing the message.

From: Unknown
Ha. No.

To: Unknown
You have no excuse. It's Friday night.

From: Unknown
Yes I do, actually.

To: Unknown
Can you please aware me of it?

Blaine smiled to himself. He was too good at this to be honest. He opened his drink as he waited to get an answer back, taking a sip as he looked over at David who was on the phone ordering his special sesame chicken lunch special. He threw him a crumbled piece of paper at his head and David waved him off and turned around in his chair as he tried to concentrate on his important phone call. Blaine laughed softly as he turned around, opening up the new message that came in.

From: Unknown
I don't really have to explain myself to you, you know. I have no idea who you are. And I'm pretty sure you're a crazy person who has no life and stalks EVERYONE.

He laughed. Oh, how he wished he had no life.

To: Unknown
Haha, then why did you so kindly decide to send me a message?

As Blaine sends the message, he clicked on the unknown number and when to edit it. He changed it to Sebastian. He started typing again, finishing the report.

5.. 10.. 15 minutes later and he still hadn't received an answer back. Blaine picked up his phone and started typing.

To: Sebastian Smythe
130 W 3rd St, New York, NY 10012 – The Village Underground. Be in the front. You'll know me when you see me. 8 o'clock and don't be late. I'll be expecting you.

He put his phone as he let out a long sigh.

Wait—was he actually nervous?

Oh! Locate me on twitter: crisshummel aka pizerran.