Warning: This will be long arc. So that you all will undestand where this story is heading. Haha :P

They'll both be singing soon and though I love music, there's a part in me that doesn't trust my judgment in finding songs. Anyway, I hope I do justice in choosing the songs both of the boys sings. It actually is a hard thing to choose a song that you don't know would fit the range of either Kurt or Blaine (aka Chris and Darren) but rest assured that I took my time to find the right songs. Please don't hate me too if I changed something about Blaine.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

I don't own Kurt and Blaine (together, they make a beautiful couple)

Blaine wanted so much tell his real name. For Kurt to know who he really is. If only Kurt didn't meet me as a puppy in that alley, Blaine thought.

"The name's Ian."

"Kurt," said Kurt meeting the extended hand of his visitor.

"Here's the address. It's very easy to spot, don't worry. I'll see you about an hour then?"Blaine asked.

"Yep," Kurt answered as he started to close his door—not catching the huge smile that spread across the face of the curly haired boy.

This is a chance I won't pass up.I'll do anything to get you Kurt.

The yellow sage looked at his enchanted stream. He needs to see what the young sage has gone to. After all, he was responsible for the banished one. What happened that day, was a moment of triumph and regret. And though his regret was far greater than his triumph, the young sage's eyes haunts his dreams— awake and asleep.

Blaine checked his set for the night. This has to work. This should work. I should make this work,Blaine told himself for the nth time. He was ready though if this wasn't enough to attract Kurt to him. He just wished Kurt would go tonight. And he really want to cheer the brunette up. Although he'll know the reasons of why his current owner was paler than the usual next morning, Blaine will do his best to somehow convery to Kurt that he was there for him.

The dark haired boy made his way to the tables to do half of his work.

"Can you sing?" the owner asked those hazel eyes.

Blaine didn't know what singing meant.

The pub owner sang a few notes and immediately Blaine recognized the one thing that surely soothed him whenever he was at Kurt's. Back at his shelter, his people used to sing. Only, they don't call it anything because it was something natural to all of them.

To prove his point, he tried the guitar he saw lying next to the supposed stage of the pub. He sang a few notes while strumming the guitar.

Blaine chuckled at the luck he's been getting after he met Kurt. After discarding the trash at the back, Blaine started to practice for his set.

Why do you cry in the morning?

When the line is just forming

I know you think I'm just carrying on

When I've been where you're going

And it's not worth knowing

Burning the days I'm just carrying on

Blaine sang the chorus slow and subtle. He wanted to sing the chorus of Carrying On because it is what he wants to tell Kurt. That he cares. That he wants to ask. And not just bark.

The waves on the shore, can't be ignored
Soon they're all around you
The cavalry fail, they've all gone
But you're holding on
Somehow is not what you asked for

Why do you cry in the mornig
When the line is just forming
I know you think I'm just carrying on
When I've been where you're going
And it's not worth knowing
Burning the days I'm just carrying on

The search for the way, to harvest the pain
'Cause all of is contagious
Knowing your head, no control of what you let go
Sometimes, it's not what you dreamed of

Why do you cry in the morning
When the line is just forming
I know you think I'm just carrying on
When I've been where you're going

"That's good kid. Will you sing that tonight?"

Blaine looked at his current boss. The curly boy shook his head slowly. "Nah. I think it's too sad and cheesy"

"Why were you singing it then?"

"Wanted to sing it to someone but I can't...tonight."

The owner raised his eyebrows at his performer. Blaine returned a sad smile and continued on with his practice for the night's performance.

Kurt was nervous. And he doesn't know why.

Not that he was trying to impress or anything or trying so hard to deny the fact that he is so atrracted to this guy. And now, he's just seeking for reasons to like him more.

What? I can't like anybody now?I just lost my freaking job. I need something to cheer me up.

Kurt really did try not to overdo his fashion that night. And if ever, since he is attractive in his own way, if ever he wants someone eyes to trail on his outfit, he'd like it to be Blaine and Blaine only.

He walked his way up to the pub and immediately tried to find Blaine.

He wasn't ready though at what greeted him.

Blaine was wearing a black and gray vest over a white sleeveless shirt. Who wears sleeveless shirts over vests? Kurt protested to himself. But the truth is, he just saw how much hair Blaine has on his chest. And he actually has a scruff that one would really love to play and those curls—it was only nearing midnight but Blaine was already sweating so bad. He looks so much like Blaine, Kurt caught himself thinking again.

"Hey!" brown eyes met blue ones.

"Hi-", Kurt let out in between a take of breath choking his greeting up. Immediately, Blaine was at his side soothing his back.

Your hands.

"Are you okay Kurt?"

"Yes. That was a just a moment of clumsiness. I'm not feeling that much awesome tonight. If you get what I mean."

"Oh, yeah. I think I can fix that for you if you just sit back", Blaine said as he led the porcelain boy to one of the front seats, "and let yourself be transformed into my fan".

Kurt was left on the seat, unable to breath for a second as his eyes lingered on the warm smile of his next door neighbor.

Those golden eyes never left the steam as soon as he saw that the young sage was finding charity on the hands of a human. Immediately, he left his post and resumed his under goings in the earth world.

No one shall take away the young sage from me. Only I can keep the little dog.

Francisco Bernardo walked in his office thinking of the porcelain boy he saw earlier on the elevator.

"You", the young god called one of the remaining workers he saw on her desk. "Do you know one of the workers here who had real white complexion, blue eyes and a real dapper fashion. Or I must say, out of this world."

"There are a lot like that in here sir."

"Don't mock me woman. I can get you fired here. He was about 5 feet and 10 inches tall and may or may not have an ungodly fancy for tight pants."

"That would be Kurt Hummel sir. But I believe he was let go this day. He was part of the accounting department."

Francisco sat in his office, contemplative and thinking about a porcelain boy with his dark, curly furball.