Sometimes, Kurt wonders if he can plead temporarily insanity. Then again, how temporarily can it be, if he after more than a year still hasn't done anything about it? So maybe he'll have to admit permanent insanity. That would explain why he thought living in a loft apartment in Bushwick with Rachel, and later Santana, was a good idea. Well, it's true that it is a loft, but to call it an apartment is probably stretching it. Never has the description "open solution" been more accurate. Except for the bathroom, there are no walls, and curtains can only give so much privacy.
The three of them graduated at the same time from McKinley High, and Rachel and he moved directly to New York. Rachel had been accepted to New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts, NYADA. Kurt had briefly thought about auditioning when she began gushing about the school, the possibilities, how she was going to fulfil her Broadway-dreams, and then preparing her application. But Kurt never mustered enough courage or self-esteem to take the same path. Loving musicals, loving to sing, loving to perform, yes, sure, but he probably didn't have what it'd take. He never got any solos with New Directions, no matter how eager and ambitious, and he never felt that his voice and will to lead them into song was appreciated. Nobody ever told him how great he was, it was always other people in the Glee club that got the praise.
Eventually, the reflection in the mirror who tried to boost him wasn't as convincing as before. He made one last effort to see if he could share Rachel's dream and path. He mustered enough guts to audition for West Side Story their Senior year. Backed up and kicked out on the stage by an eager Rachel, was also Finn, who had been more focused on football until Rachel convinced him to go for it. Kurt lost the role of Tony to Finn, because he apparently didn't make Coach Beiste's lady parts tingle. That was when he decided that there simply weren't enough parts in the world for a boy with his brand of masculinity to make a living of it. Most of the boys in school had decided he was a princess anyway, and except a misguided Mercedes their Sophomore year, no girl had ever considered Kurt an object of their attraction. Brittany not included, her perfect record can't count. He simply couldn't offer the business what they'd ask for, and it was better to pursue something he could actually have a glimmer of hope surviving.
So music would always be a passionate hobby, but for his career he turned to the other love of his life; fashion. He is determined, not afraid to stand out with his wardrobe, and in fashion that is even applauded, admired and desired. After sending in his portfolio, he was happily accepted to study fashion design at Parsons. Rachel and he spent the rest of their Senior year plotting and planning, gaining a few reality checks on the road when they figured out what real life costs and how New York works, but the loft in Bushwick had eventually become a home. Even without walking distance to Broadway, or a large kitchen, or huge open bay windows with a magnificent view.
Santana had initially stayed behind in Lima, not willing to leave her girlfriend Brittany, who surprisingly unexpectedly had to redo her Senior year. But eventually Santana realized Lima wasn't big enough for her, and she didn't want to be seen as one of those losers who never manage to move on from high school, but hang out in the schoolyard with their younger high school-friends instead of pursuing new fields of happiness (her sentiment). She hadn't quite known what she wanted to do in life after rejecting the Cheerleading scholarship Coach Sylvester landed for her, but spent last year with odd jobs here and there, while auditioning and figuring out if performance ran in her blood too. Santana didn't like to think that maybe Rachel and she had something in common, but it was suspicious how often she'd wander around on NYADA grounds.
Carmen Tibideaux had rejected her after her audition, because she thought Santana had an attitude problem, at which Santana had replied something in Spanish that does not bear translating. But Santana had been accepted at Tisch, and would start her first year as Kurt and Rachel begun their second year of college. It was just as well, Santana had insisted, because Tisch would offer her a broader education, a wider range of skills, and more possibilities than simply aiming to be a Broadway-Baby. Even before her first day at Tisch, Kurt had realized that bickering between the girls about the merits of NYADA versus Tisch would be daily occurrences from now on.
Fortunately, Brittany had also been accepted at Tisch, with her mad dance skills. Brittany had wanted to live in the on campus-dormitories, as she thought it would give her a summer camp-experience, rather than find a tiny apartment for Santana, her and Lord Tubbington. As a consequence, or so Kurt desperately hoped, Santana would spend a lot of time on campus. When Brittany and Santana traded lady kisses, it tended to get loud.
Again, curtain walls can only offer so much privacy, even with head phones or ear plugs. Temporarily insanity? More like permanent insanity. He knew far more about his roommates than he'd ever expected or desired, and he silently hoped they didn't know equally much about him and why some of his showers took time. But secrets, of any kind, are difficult to keep when you live together like that.
His days were busy at Parsons, and thanks to the prestigious name of his school and a probably exaggerated recommendation from one of his professors, he had worked at Mood Fabrics for the last two months. He'd happily quit his job in the nostalgic diner which Santana had helped him land, and embraced the possibility to work with textiles and fabrics, and once in a while spot a familiar face from Project Runway. Kurt was not seasoned enough to not be star struck, after only a year in New York. Three afternoons each week was spent in the fashion house, and it gave him valuable experience with fabrics and accessories for his studies, discovering treasures he didn't even know existed.
An evening now and then is spent with Kevin. He had been a Senior to Kurt's Freshman, but they didn't meet until Santana threw a wild party in their loft in the beginning of May as a last hurrah before exams kicked in. It turned out a friend of a colleague of Santana was a brother of Kevin's roommate. Or something like that. The important thing was; they were both there.
As a young, romantic and wide eyed Freshman, Kurt had been blown away and floored by the charming, confident and handsome Senior. There had been a few coffees in between the busy end of school year-activities, and some random texting while Kurt spent the summer in Lima and Kevin part of it with his family right outside Boston and part of it job hunting in New York. Nothing serious had happened between them, though, and it was all very casual and non-committing. But after they all came back to New York, Santana threw a back to school-party, where Kevin showed up after work. He still had this post-summer glow to his hue, dark and handsome and impossible to ignore, he teased them for still being in college, and with a flirty smile told Kurt excited anecdotes from work which made it tingle in Kurt's stomach. When Kevin two days later texted and suggested a coffee date, Kurt had jumped at it, hoping his tingles were returned.
Despite of focusing on haute couture during his education, Kevin had managed to land a job with costumes in Kinky Boots. He mostly did check-ups and repairs after each performance, as the show premiered before he graduated and costumes were set for the time being. But they'd had to change an understudy who got pregnant, and Kevin had tailored the new girl's costumes. Now and then Kevin would text Kurt, and ask him to join him at the theatre for the night, to get a glimpse of how working with clothes could be. Their dates hadn't been that frequent or elaborate, but their clashing schedules didn't exactly cooperate and encourage it, and it was tricky to work around them. Coffee dates, a drink after a performance bought by Kevin who jokingly teased him for being underage, a late Sunday brunch after the matinee, or a movie on a Monday when the show wasn't performed. Kurt wasn't sure if spending a night gluing sequins to drag queen-boots was considered a date or not, and yet that was what the two of them most often did and how they most often spent time together.
Despite of Santana's innuendos and dirty mind, Kurt always went home, alone, after those outings. Not that Santana had any business in his sex life, but it was pretty non-existent. He wanted to take things slow. Unlike most teenagers, he had hardly dated in high school, and he didn't want to risk doing something he'd later regret because he was restless, inexperienced, impatient and touch-starved. His dad had once told him he mattered, and Kurt wanted for what he did and who he did it with to be something that mattered too.
The speech came after Kurt met Chandler, and Burt had to face the reality of having a teenage son with a dating life. The dating life was short lived, though. Chandler was cute, he was funny, and his excitement over the things Kurt loves was a welcomed change after being ridiculed for the same things in school. But in the end, they decided to stay friends. Or, in reality, losing touch and probably never seeing each other again. Kurt always felt exhausted after a date with Chandler. Initially, he thought the boy's enthusiasm and bubbly personality was refreshing, but spending some time with the energetic and never-ending go-go-go boy was draining, and Kurt always felt as if he ran late, couldn't catch up, couldn't keep the same pace. Chandler unwillingly made him feel inadequate, and that was not a good feeling. There were enough boys in school who already contributed to that, some girls too.
It was often late when Kurt came home from a costume-fixing-but-is-it-a-date with Kevin. The performance would go on to ten thirty, and then Kevin would help the actors and actresses undress and sort costumes. When everyone had left, and nobody could catch them, Kevin and Kurt would go over the costumes to see if anything needed repairs, hang them up and prepare for next performance. With the long commute back to Bushwick, it was more often than not past midnight before he was home. It did serious damage to his night time moisturizing routine, and morning classes the next day were a pain. Part of him wanted to stop that particular arrangement, but another part of him wanted to learn more about Kevin and see where they could go, and yet another part of him was excited to learn more about the backstage workings of a real Broadway play. Rachel loved to pimp him for details, claiming it would improve her, and make her more prepared for her own inevitable, impending casting.
He's just walked away from the subway station, relieved that the subway is a more or less 24/7 occurrence. Sometimes he still feels like that small town Ohioan, in awe over things that the locals take for granted. Public transportation in Lima wasn't awful, but you needed a car to get around between certain hours, and most definitely at night. Another thing they don't have in Lima? Grocery stores open 24/7. Hell, you'd search futilely for any kind of junk shop or food source open at all hours. Finn had been in heaven the first time he visited, and hadn't slept all night, running down to "their" corner store whenever he thought of something he'd want. Like potato chips, a six pack of red bull, a new shower gel for Rachel, lip balm for Rachel, extra batteries to the remote control for the TV, eggs for an early breakfast omelette (even though Kurt insisted it wasn't considered breakfast at 4 AM).
Finn had made individual errands for each purchase, but Rachel had finally put her foot down and stopped his enthusiastic shopping when he came back home with a multipack of condoms. Rachel had blushed and seethed, exclaimed those were not for them if he had though it sufficed as foreplay, before stomping off to her curtain-corner. Finn had shouted frantically after her that it wasn't for them, it was for… And then he'd looked around the loft, looking for an answer. His eyes landed on Kurt, peaking out from his curtain-corner, still trying to sleep despite of his brother's juvenile shopping joy. Kurt had glared at him, and Finn had shivered, probably trying not to think about Kurt having sex (which he didn't, but he wouldn't need Finn to buy him condoms, that's for sure). So he'd told Rachel they were for Santana. The lesbian. Well done, Finn.
Kurt smiles fondly at the thought of his brother, and walks to the corner store Finn had been so enthusiastic about. Their fridge had been depressingly empty this morning, and he needs to buy something for tomorrow's breakfast. He has a long day tomorrow, and needs a solid start to endure it all. He's awfully short on money at the moment, four days before the next pay check. He scraped together what he could find of coins and change in the bottom of his satchel, in various jacket pockets, in his wallet, in Santana's wallet while she slept (she owed him, probably, most definitely). It wasn't much, but he's learned to stretch money. He ate healthier back in Lima, but that kind of food costs more, so he's had to re-evaluate and redefine his diets after he began living on a student's economy.
He walks down the stairs and giggles soundlessly at the now familiar cow bell which chimes as he walks into the store. He strides purposefully to the isle of canned food. Fresh vegetables are out of question by the end of each pay check, so he hopes he'll find something that can offer at least some vitamins. He scans the shelves, nothing really tempts him. It's around 1 AM, he's tired, he's confused by Kevin's kiss on his cheek as they separated, he is suppressing an urge for junk food, and he is already dreading having to get up early to cook breakfast before a hell day at Parsons and Moods.
He picks up two cans of beans in tomato sauce. They look similar, but he isn't easily fooled. There is a 12 cent difference, and the more expensive one contains 300 grains less. Not logical, but part of reality. The cheaper one contains more sodium, though, and after his dad's heart problems, he tries to stay away from salt in any kind of diet. But there's also a big sticker offering two for the prize of one, which makes him smile widely. Screw sodium, he thinks, this will be breakfast for three days. That, and a bag of pasta, because Santana has probably eaten the remaining eggs in the fridge. Yeah, she totally owes him.
He quickly makes a mental inventory of both kitchen cupboards and his own wallet, and decides he doesn't need more for now. His feet ache, and his eyes are drooping from exhaustion. He just wants to get back to his bed, instead of duelling healthy meals versus economic culinary. So he walks over to the counter with his two cans of beans and bag of pasta, and smiles tiredly at the cashier. It's not the same person manning the register each night, but Kurt has seen this one plenty of times for the last couple of months. He feels both admiration and pity for the poor soul, who has to work at these ungodly hours.
The boy – young man? Kurt isn't quite sure when the transition from one to the other happens, isn't sure how he'd label himself, even – closes a notebook he was writing in, puts it on his high stool, and jumps down on the floor to scan Kurt's measly purchases. Kurt suppresses a giggle at how the cashier looks so much smaller when he stands on the floor than when he sits on the tall stool. Kurt doesn't mean to be rude; the boy is actually quite gorgeous, and size isn't everything, as they say. The stool is ridiculously tall, as if he's a lifeguard who needs a view of the entire store all at once. Or maybe he's sitting in a lighthouse? God, Kurt needs some sleep, desperately, if this is the thoughts his mind conjures.
There's a certain charisma simmering from the boy, something in him that makes him noticeable and impressive despite his lower physical attributes. Kurt can't pinpoint it, but he could have rambled on for hours if he allowed himself. About how the boy always has a smile, and no matter how dead on his feet Kurt feels, it is impossible to not respond to the smile. Or how his eyes are so warm and sincere, and Kurt almost believes the sincerity in the words when he's being thanked for shopping in that particular corner of the world. And about how the boy has the most excessive collection of bowties he's ever stumbled upon – because Kurt is the kind of guy that notices details like that week after week, and it might even rival his own dresser brimming with scarves. Or how Kurt hasn't seen any other cashier rock the ugly green apron the same way this particular young man does.
"Do you want a bag for that?" he asks after accepting Kurt's random gathering of coins in payment.
"Nah, thank you, that's fine, I don't have long to walk at all," Kurt waves off, dumping his breakfast ingredients in his satchel. It drops heavily on his shoulder, but he'll be home in literally four minutes. He'll cope.
"Thank you for choosing Monty's Corner Store for your nocturnal shopping," he grins, and Kurt can't help but shake his head in amusement and smile back. He ducks his head, and waves at him as he turns to walk out. "Sweet dreams!" the young man calls after him.
The smile stays on Kurt's lips for the longest time. In the elevator up to the loft apartment, he checks his phone. Still no answer from Kevin about them having lunch tomorrow. He's probably in bed already, considering how close he lives to the theatre. Kurt interprets it as no to lunch tomorrow, and logs in to his email to confirm the counselling session with his pattern and composition-teacher at noon. He's not putting his schedule on hold for a boy who can't make up his mind about lunch.
Kurt tiredly folds his clothes before leaving them in his hamper. He slips into his pyjamas, before curling up under his soft covers. His feet aches, his head hurts, his muscles are sore, but his brain is wide awake. As usual. It's as if it can't stop buzzing with all the impressions from throughout the day, the lessons, the ideas for his assignments, the things Kevin says and doesn't say… Often, Kurt will take the time to work through everything simmering in his brain. Analyse his relationship with Kevin, draw rough sketches of his ideas, make a to do-list for Santana's neglected cleaning-duties, compose an email to his dad… But there have been one too many sleepless nights lately, and Kurt needs some rest if he's supposed to function for the rest of the week. So he stumbles out to the kitchen for a bottle of water, and pops an Ambien. Hopefully, it'll kick in soon, so he can get at least five or six hours of sleep, a drastic improvement from the last three nights.