Author's Note: Thank you so much for your reviews - I'm so glad you're enjoying this story and very grateful you're taking the time to tell me so! This chapter is once again from Kurt's point of view. Enjoy!

As always, my gratitude goes out to my wonderful beta VoyageAsia/hkvoyage, for enhancing this story with her feedback.

Chapter 3: The Design Contest

New York, January to April 2012

Though it had nothing to do with his major, the graphic design class quickly became Kurt's favourite. Professor Scher was quirky and fun, and her teaching was refreshingly out-of-the-box. Professor Anderson, who was just as gorgeous as Elliott had promised, had such a clear way of explaining things and so much passion for his subject that his students progressed at a rapid pace.

The teaching was very hands-on, too. From the very beginning, the students found themselves doing rather than listening, and putting your own spin on the techniques you learned was actively encouraged. That was just how Kurt liked it, so he thrived in these lessons, and was already considering taking another graphic design class the following semester.

Both Professor Scher and Professor Anderson were nothing but encouraging towards him, praising his aesthetic, bold colours and clean lines.

So when Kurt saw the announcement for a graphic design contest for students, he knew he wanted to take part in it, and he knew Professor Anderson had won one of these contests when he was a student himself. Therefore, it only made sense to go talk to his professor about it during his consulting hours.

His mind made up, Kurt went to Professor Anderson's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Kurt went in and smiled at the sight of Professor Anderson fiddling with paperclips and making a chain with them. "Good afternoon."

Professor Anderson dropped the paperclips abruptly and looked up. "Kurt!"

Kurt smiled wider. "I'm so impressed that you know all your students' names, Professor. I could name maybe ten of the students in my year, at best, and that's after spending a school year and a half with them."

Professor Anderson rubbed his neck and bit his lip, and stayed silent for a minute or so. Then he asked, "How may I help you, Kurt?"

Kurt slid the flyer about the contest in his direction, and the professor's eyes lit up. For a moment there, Kurt had a strong sense of déjà vu. Where had he seen eyes like that recently? The exact same shade, and glowing with excitement, too.

Kurt couldn't pinpoint it, and shook off the thought when the professor started to talk.

"Kurt, I'm really glad you're going to enter the competition. That's why I hung up the poster and put the flyers on the reception desk. I want my whole class to send in a design. You're a talented bunch. I have to tell you, though, that I can't give you any personal advice about your design, seeing as I'm in the jury for the contest."

That was news to Kurt. "Oh… Uhm, it wasn't advice about my design I wanted. I just need some general information about submitting an entry. It says here that only complete entries will be accepted, and that they want the design in the usual formats. So, what does that mean, exactly? Is there a list somewhere of everything they expect me to send in? And what formats do they want?"

Professor Anderson grinned. "Ah, there, I can help. Yes, the practical stuff is all kind of vague, isn't it? I was going to bring it up during class, and encourage you all to take part, but now that you're here anyway…"

Half an hour later, Kurt left the professor's office with his flyer all scribbled over and a spring in his step. He was going to do this. Yes, he knew he'd barely scratched the surface of all the graphic design techniques he could learn, but Professor Anderson hadn't said it was too early for him to compete, had he? Design was not about showing off your expertise, anyway. It was about having original ideas, eye-catching and thought-provoking, and executing them with attention to detail. And he could do that. No problem.

Kurt worked on the design for the contest for over a month, and asked both Isabelle and Elliott for their opinion before sending it in.

He'd consulted Professor Anderson every now and then about other practical details that occurred to him, and he didn't stop popping into his office after he'd submitted his entry for the contest. He just asked questions about his designs for the Vogue website instead. The professor always seemed jumpy whenever Kurt came by, but he was happy enough to help, and it only took a few minutes for Professor Anderson to relax and the two of them to be chatting like friends.

Kurt learnt that the professor was originally from Ohio, too, and when Kurt told him about being bullied every single day in high school, Professor Anderson nodded, his eyes sympathetic. "Me too. I had to transfer to a private school after I got beaten up at a school dance. I was in hospital for six weeks."

When Kurt broached the subject of his stepbrother Finn, who'd died at nineteen, the professor moved a hand as if to pat Kurt on the shoulder, but stopped just short of touching him. "I'm so sad to hear that. I have a brother, too, but I'm not very close to him. He's much older than I am, and he left Ohio when I wasn't even a teenager yet."

Kurt loved talking to Professor Anderson, and each time, he only reluctantly left the professor's office when his phone chimed with a reminder that he had dogs to walk.

K&B

Kurt had hoped that Devon's owner would hire him again someday, and he grinned happily when halfway March, Sheila let him know that Devon would be added to his roster for a week.

"Three walks a day again? Six, twelve and six, right?"

"That's it," said Sheila. "And play with him so he can work off his excess energy."

"Will do."

When Kurt arrived at Devon's apartment the next morning, Devon jumped on him as soon as he'd opened the door, his tail wagging so hard it seemed in danger of falling off. Kurt laughed and rubbed under the dog's chin. "Hey, Devon! Did you miss me, boy?"

He could have sworn Devon NODDED in reply.

Snowball, Summer and Titus seemed glad to have their fourth playmate with them again, and the lot of them were so rambunctious that Kurt arrived at school quite wiped out.

He decided to pay Professor Anderson a visit that afternoon, but his office was locked.

"Blaine won't be in this week," he heard behind him. He turned around and saw Professor Scher. She smiled at him. "If you need help, you'll have to make do with me, I'm afraid."

Before he could take a minute to digest this information, Kurt blurted out, "Oh… Is he ill?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," was the dry retort.

"Of course," said Kurt. "Well, if you don't mind helping me, I have a few questions. It's about using pictures in drop-down menus. I just can't get the aligning right, whatever I try. And it's driving me nuts."

Professor Scher smiled. "Come on in."

Twenty minutes later, Kurt left her office, now knowing exactly how to fix the problem, but his happy mood deflated as soon as his eyes fell on Professor Anderson's locked office, and that, in turn, made him curse under his breath.

Say it isn't so. How much more of a cliché could I be? In high school, I fell for a straight jock, and now I'm crushing on my teacher? Will I ever have feelings for someone who could actually love me back?

"He'll be back next week," a soft voice assured him.

Kurt whipped his head around. It was Professor Scher again, her expression knowing and amused.

Oh, great. Now my other teacher knows about my crush. Let's hope she won't say anything to Professor Anderson.

"You're not the first student who keeps showing up for Blaine's consulting hours," the professor said, her eyes boring through him.

Kurt looked down, feeling his cheeks heat up and hating himself for it.

"But I have to say you're the first one he's ever encouraged to do so," Professor Scher continued.

Wait… What?

Kurt snapped his head up again to see Professor Scher grinning at him.

"He clearly likes talking to you. If he didn't, you'd be leaving his office ten minutes after coming in. I've seen it happen before. He's always polite, but he gets rid of them so fast. But he lets you stay for hours. And he's in a great mood afterwards."

Kurt stared at the professor, not really knowing what to say.

"I have to tell you, though, that Parsons doesn't allow faculty members to date students," Professor Scher warned him. "So if something were to develop there, I'd advise the both of you to keep it on the down-low. All right?"

Kurt's eyes widened, and he blurted out, "We're not… I would never…"

Professor Scher held up a hand. "I'm not saying there's anything going on right now. I'm telling you just in case."

Kurt closed his mouth with a snap. "Oh. Okay."

Professor Scher nodded at him. "Good afternoon, Kurt. If you have any more design-related questions, you know you can always ask."

Kurt swallowed. "Thank you. Good afternoon, Professor."

K&B

The next week, Professor Anderson was back, looking healthy as a horse and radiating so much happiness that it seemed like he'd just had a week's vacation instead of sick leave.

Kurt chose to admire his professor's beautiful smile from afar, and left right after the lesson. Usually, he only ever paid attention to the teacher, but now that his eyes had been opened, he noticed the many other students who fawned over Professor Anderson and did all they could to catch his attention. It made him feel sick to his stomach, and for the first time in months, he didn't come up with a design question to ask the professor as an excuse to go to his office and talk to him. He just went home and worked on his school projects until his phone beeped for the next scheduled dog walk.

Kurt kept a low profile for the next few weeks, determined not to draw any more attention to his love-struck behaviour and to keep some distance in the hopes of reining in his crush.

Then, one Monday, as he was filing out of class with the other students, Professor Anderson stopped him in his tracks by saying, "Kurt, can I have a word with you, please?"

The girls around Kurt tittered and hung back, clearly wanting to hear what the professor had to say, but he shooed them off with a curt, "Just Kurt, please. Enjoy your afternoon, ladies."

That made them giggle even more, but they left the classroom.

Kurt glanced down and tugged at his thumb, waiting for the professor to speak. When that moment came, his voice was much closer than Kurt had been expecting, and when he looked up, there was Professor Anderson, his face near enough to Kurt for him to make out the green and gold flecks in his eyes, and his concerned expression.

"Are you okay, Kurt? You haven't really been yourself for weeks. You seem so sad. Is it your father? Is he doing worse? Has he had another health scare?"

Kurt shook his head, feeling a bit guilty now about cutting out the man he'd started to consider a friend.

"No, no! Dad is fine. It's just… Uhm… The week you were… away, your colleague…"

Professor Anderson squared his jaw. "Paula? Yes, she talked to me too. Made you feel uncomfortable, did she? Ugh. I swear she means well, but she shouldn't have meddled. I told her there was nothing untoward going on, and to stop butting in."

Kurt bit his lip.

Professor Anderson sighed. "Now you won't ever dare talk to me again, will you?"

Kurt fidgeted with his fingers. "I… I'd… never forgive myself… if you lost your job just for listening to me talk about... being bullied, or… losing my mom, or stuff like that. I mean… Professor Scher said... she'd noticed me being in your office… for hours. That's… I can understand she's suspicious. And… It's not worth it. Not worth ruining your reputation over. I should just… find myself a therapist. And talk to them about that stuff."

Professor Anderson hummed. "That's a good idea. But I want you to know that you can always talk to me, too. Don't worry about Paula. She wouldn't blab. And it's all above board anyway."

Kurt forced a smile, and after a hurried "Good afternoon", he left the classroom.

Yes, their conversations may have been above board, but Kurt still had a crush on Professor Anderson, and his colleague knew it. It didn't sit right with Kurt, so he'd continue to keep his distance. He could do this. He was used to unrequited crushes. He'd been dealing with them since middle school.

K&B

Mid-April, Kurt got an official-looking letter in the mail, inviting him to the award ceremony for the design contest, which was to take place the following Saturday. Apparently, he was shortlisted for the prize.

Kurt gaped at the letter for a minute, and then let out a triumphant yell that had Rachel dropping her cup of tea on the kitchen floor and racing towards him.

"Kurt, are you okay?"

Kurt shoved the letter under her nose, and soon, it fluttered to the floor while they were holding each other's hands and jumping up and down like excited toddlers.

"This is amazing!" Rachel said at last. "Is that why you've been away so often these past few weeks? 'Cause you were working on whatever you created for this contest?"

Kurt nodded. "Rach, will you come with me to the ceremony?"

"Of course! I'll even help you write your winner's speech if you want me too. I have lots of practice. I was only five when I started writing acceptance speeches for the Tony awards I knew I would win. Those first ones are very basic, of course, but by now, I've gotten it down to an art."

Kurt bit down a smile. "That… won't be necessary, Rach. But thank you."

The day of the ceremony, Kurt was very glad to have Rachel with him. The venue was very upscale, and though he was wearing a priceless tux borrowed from the Vogue vault, he felt out of place there. Rachel, on the other hand, was in her element, pointing out people she recognised from television and jabbering non-stop about the opportunities this would bring for Kurt even if he didn't win. "I'll be sure to talk you up to everyone. You deserve this!"

When the jury filed onto the stage, Kurt craned his neck to see Professor Anderson. Not only would he be a familiar face, Kurt was dying to see how the professor filled out a tux. Just… for scientific reasons, okay?

But Professor Anderson was nowhere to be seen, and when the announcer started the ceremony by listing the jury members' names, it was mentioned that the professor was unable to attend.

Kurt felt a pang of regret, but a few minutes later, he forgot all about that when he was announced the winner of the contest.

Rachel screamed so loud next to him that his ears rang, but that didn't stop Kurt from beaming and stepping onto the dais to accept the award with a word of thanks and pose for photographs.

The reception afterwards was a moment of triumph for Kurt, who was passed from one dignitary to the next. By the time he and Rachel were on the subway train back home, Kurt had received not only praise but also offers for paid internships and even an actual job offer, and he discussed each one with Rachel.

Rachel encouraged him to accept the job, but Kurt wasn't so sure that was the best idea. "I'm not majoring in graphic design. I've barely taken one class! I don't think I'm qualified to work as a graphic designer. I don't even know if that's what I want to do with my life. Anyway, I want to finish my education first. Get my degree. That firm that offered me a job, if they really want me, they can wait two years."

"Yes, but will they?" Rachel insisted. "You've won the prize now. And your design is going to be touring around in that exhibit now, and be featured in magazines now. You have to strike the iron while it's hot. Do you think they'll still want you when you're yesterday's news? No, they won't!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Rach… It's my life, not yours. Let me make my own decisions, please."

Rachel looked as though she wanted to argue, but Kurt mimed zipping his mouth shut, and she complied, though with bad grace, tapping her foot on the floor for the rest of the ride to let out her frustration.

As he was emptying his pockets that night, he checked his phone and saw two missed call notifications.

The first call was from his father, who'd left a message that he was very proud of Kurt and would be calling him the next day. Kurt had texted Burt that he'd won the prize, but had then been too swept up in the celebrations to check his phone or to even hear it ring.

The other call was from the dog walker agency, to add Devon to his schedule once again, for a week. That made Kurt grin, and with a satisfied sigh, he slipped into bed and nodded off as soon as his head hit the pillow.

That Monday, the graphic design class was taught by Professor Scher for the second week in a row. Was Professor Anderson ill again? Kurt shook off the thought. It was none of his business, anyway.

After class, Professor Scher congratulated Kurt on the prize he'd won. "I saw your design, and I have to say, I was BLOWN AWAY."

Kurt felt his cheeks heat up. "Thank you for the compliment, Professor."

The professor put a hand on his arm. "I know you're majoring in fashion design, but I'd advise you to take on graphic design as a minor. You've scored top marks in your midterms for this class, and I'm sure you'll do the same in your finals. You could do great as a graphic designer. You have real talent."

Kurt laughed. "I have a pretty full schedule as it is, Professor."

"Perhaps we could work something out," Professor Scher mused. "There's summer school, if you can stay in NYC for three weeks over the summer? That would be a three-credit course out of the way already. And then, I know you've been offered paid internships, and you could definitely get college credit for the hours you work there. I'd go with R/GA or AKQA. Those firms will look best on your resume, and you'll learn an awful lot there."

Kurt twisted his fingers. "I… I'll… think about it, Professor. Thank you. I'm sorry, I need to run, I have to get to work now."

Professor Scher waved him off. "Go walk your dogs. But think about it, and let me know soon."

Kurt discussed it with Isabelle that week, and she assured him that he could work fewer hours at or even take a break if necessary. "It's not like I'm paying you. That graphic design class is the first perk Vogue has ever given you."

"That, and the tux you lent me for the award ceremony."

"Oh, please," Isabelle scoffed. "You didn't even get to keep it!"

He talked to the dog walking agency too, and they said they could switch him from dog-walking to dog-sitting, which would have him stay at someone's place to look after their dog or dogs while they were away, for a week at the minimum and up to a few months. It would pay less than all the dog-walking he did now, but it would be less time-consuming, and he could save on rent, moving from place to place, and on transport costs, seeing as the addresses were all in the Upper East Side, close to Parsons. Right now, there was a lady looking for a dog-sitter for the entire month of June, so Kurt agreed to give it a try.

Rachel, too, proved nothing but supportive when he brought up the subject. "Don't worry about the rent, my dads will chip in. Or I'll find another roommate."

So he went to Parsons' academic counselling department to discuss adding a minor in Graphic Design to his schedule, with part of the credit coming from a paid internship, and another part from summer school. He knew it would mean several more classes with Professor Anderson. There would be no avoiding him. But he felt sure that he could get over this stupid crush, and focus on his studies instead.

K&B

That Saturday, at six, he unlocked the door to Devon's apartment, but unlike the previous times, Devon wasn't waiting for him there.

"Devon?"

Kurt whistled, but there was no eager dog running towards him, only an annoyed owner popping his head out of his bedroom door.

"Stop that racket!"

"I'm sorry, sir," Kurt apologised. "I'm here to pick up Devon for his evening walk."

"That won't be necessary," the guy said tersely.

"You're… going to walk your dog yourself?" Kurt asked.

"He's not my dog," the guy snapped. "He belongs to my roommate. Who happens to have this… condition that knocks him out for a week every now and then."

Kurt absorbed that new information. "But now he's better and he'll be taking Devon out himself?"

"All I can tell you is that your services are no longer needed."

Kurt, discomfited by the venom in the guy's voice, nodded mutely and closed the door to the apartment, hurrying out of the building.

What had he done wrong? He'd treated Devon like all the other dogs he cared for, and the Portie seemed happy and content. As requested, Kurt always made sure to give the dog enough exercise so that he wouldn't take out his boredom on the couch cushions or his owner's shoes. Why, then, had his assignment been terminated so abruptly?

Well, he had no time to ruminate further on the subject. He had three other dogs to pick up for their evening walk, and then four others after that.

It wasn't until Kurt was in the loft, he and Rachel sipping from the soup he'd made and eating a vegan brie baguette with it, that he thought to check his mail and his account on the agency's website. Surely, if there had been a complaint, he'd have gotten a message? But he hadn't. And when he logged into his account, his assignments hadn't changed, and he'd been paid in full for the week of walks he'd been scheduled to take with Devon. This was the last day of the week, of course, and it was the last scheduled walk, too, so Devon had only missed one walk, and maybe the agency hadn't been notified of it yet.

Kurt put it from his mind and focussed on his school projects again, getting so absorbed in them that the alarm he'd set to remind him of Precious' evening walk made him jump a foot in the air. Usually, he only took Precious out in the morning, and his colleague Terrance walked her at night, but Terrance had called in sick with a stomach bug, so Kurt had to take over the night walk. It would mess with his sleep schedule, that was for sure, but thankfully, since it was weekend, he could take an afternoon nap if necessary.

Kurt sighed and passed a hand over his eyes before getting up. He put his sketch book in his backpack to pass the time waiting for the subway train to arrive, checked if he still had dog treats, and walked to the subway station.

The tiny park he went to with Precious was shadowy and silent. He didn't notice the lone figure sitting on a bench until Precious started to tremble and whine, and press against Kurt's leg for comfort. Kurt bent his knees and rubbed her behind her ears.

"Aww, sweetie, please don't be scared. I'm here with you, I can deal with ghoulies and ghosties and anything else that goes bump in the night. I don't think that's a ghost, though. It looks like a man. And he's sad. Let's leave him alone and go back home."

Kurt threw a look back at the man on the bench, and did a double take when he recognised Professor Anderson. Did he live somewhere around here? And why did he look so devastated?

Just then, Professor Anderson looked up. When he saw Kurt, he sent him a feeble attempt at a smile and then hung his head again.

Kurt wanted to go talk to him and comfort him somehow, but Precious tugged at her leash, and he followed her. He'd be seeing the professor on Monday. If he still seemed sad, Kurt could talk to him then.