A/N: My chapters would not be the same without the careful betaing and support of AncientGleek and LadyFiona89. Thanks for keeping me sane guys.
The Warbler is a Tramp – Chapter Thirty Four
Kurt made it to Wes' office with ten minutes to spare. Rather than look eager to please his manager, he dawdled outside to reply to a frenzied email from Mercedes, hit send, and checked the time again. It was 10:29. Show time.
"Come in," Wes called when Kurt knocked on the door.
The door closed with a snap behind Kurt. Wes was sitting at his desk, as usual. No smiles or pleasantries were exchanged as Kurt seated himself opposite Wes without invitation, and Wes only raised a questioning eyebrow when Kurt opened an audio recording app on his phone and set it down on the desk between them.
"Well, you did threaten to fire me over text message," Kurt explained. "I wasn't going to come in here unprepared."
"You got one of my messages then," Wes began irritably.
"I got all of your messages," Kurt responded.
Wes' eyes flashed at that. "I see. Do you mind telling me why you didn't respond last night?"
"Well, I was a little preoccupied," Kurt said sarcastically. "What with the press waiting to ambush us."
"When I hired you, Kurt, it was understood that you would keep me informed when I'm not there to oversee a situation," Wes reprimanded. "I thought perhaps there was a genuine reason you weren't doing so, but it seems you really were just ignoring your duty."
"My duty?" Kurt repeated. "I was on a date, Wes. You expect me to follow company protocol during my free time?"
"Free time ends the moment the team is called to action, Kurt. You know this." Wes shook his head in disbelief. "What's gotten into you, talking to me like this? For the last nine months I've been able to rely on you, but now…you better have a damn good reason for this sudden attitude problem, or I'll have no choice but to put you on a disciplinary."
Kurt ground his teeth together to keep his temper from flaring and leaned forward, elbow resting on the knee crossed over the other, fingers balled into a loose fist.
"Why were the paparazzi outside the restaurant last night?"
Wes was taken aback. Clearly he had expected an answer, not another question thrown his way.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me," Kurt said coolly. "Ever since the paparazzi showed up outside the restaurant last night, I've been trying to figure out how they knew Blaine and I were there."
"Someone must have seen you go in," Wes replied quickly.
"Yeah…I thought that at first, too," Kurt admitted. "The thing is, though, you told me this restaurant was discreet. You said we would sneak in and out unnoticed, no problem. So imagine our surprise when the paparazzi turned up. Something you assured me wouldn't happen."
"What are you trying to imply, Kurt?" Wes asked sharply.
"I think you know exactly what I'm implying," Kurt said. His back was ramrod straight, and his hands gripped his own knee for support, the only giveaway that his nerves were charged. "And I don't say any of this lightly."
Wes leaned back in his seat and glared at Kurt over his glasses. "Well, I sincerely hope you're about to explain where this is coming from. Because I don't take allegations against my professionalism lightly."
"It's not a random thought, Wes," Kurt said coldly. "This has been bothering me since the paparazzi took pictures of Blaine and me entering our hotel, two months ago. And now, after last night…I can't let this go on without an explanation." Kurt raised his chin in defiance.
Wes was unreadable, but eventually rested his chin on his joined fingers, elbows on the desk. "You have my attention."
Kurt's throat was dry; he poured himself some water from a pitcher set to one side and took a quick sip before continuing.
"Two months ago, when Blaine and I were snapped outside the hotel, I was expecting you to question me about the photos," Kurt began. "I thought you would be suspicious and ask why we looked so…close."
Wes nodded as he thought back to the event Kurt was referencing. "You were upset. Blaine was caught walking you into the hotel, right?" he clarified aloud.
"Yes." Kurt bit his top lip. "When I finally thought you were going to bring it up, you confused the hell out of me and encouraged me to do work experience with Mercedes instead."
"You're a good employee, Kurt, despite the last twelve hours. Of course I want to offer you all the opportunities I can," Wes said stiffly.
"And I'm grateful for that," Kurt added. "But, Wes...in February you told me I was close to being fired, because a cab driver I used blabbed to the press."
"I remember."
"So I was expecting you to react the same way to the hotel incident," Kurt explained. "Even I could tell we looked close in those pictures; so I wouldn't have blamed you for asking for my side of the story. But you didn't. Not once." Kurt shook his head accusingly. "When months ago you made me feel two inches tall over a smaller issue."
"Kurt—"
"—and when that video of us in Windsor surfaced, you still didn't say a word. You'd only just given me my revised contract when that girl tweeted the recording. I hadn't signed it yet. You could have tried to penalize me for being inappropriate with Blaine in public because my original contract was still intact. But you didn't."
Kurt looked to Wes for a reply that wasn't forthcoming.
"Wes, none of this adds up!"
"I see."
Kurt glowered; the man was being frustratingly coy. So he tried another tact.
"I know you and Kitty are under pressure to improve the band's image…which is another reason I find this whole thing strange."
"I think I know where this is going," Wes admitted.
"When my contract was changed, I thought you were throwing us a bone," Kurt said. "I thought this was Blaine's friend doing the right thing…trusting him. Now I'm not so sure." He paused for a breath. "Now I'm wondering if this whole thing has been set-up."
Wes removed his glasses from their perch on his nose and polished the lenses.
"Wes, I want to clear this up in my head, before you bring Blaine into this conversation." Kurt waited for Wes to finish stalling, and caught his serious gaze. "Has this been some kind of plan?"
Blinking at Kurt resignedly, Wes' mouth twisted into a grim line. "You really are too smart for your own good sometimes."
"Wes, please," Kurt said forcefully. "Have you turned our relationship into a media strategy?"
Wes stared at him unblinkingly for some time. "…Yes."
The breath trapped in Kurt's chest whooshed out. "The paparazzi outside the hotel…?"
"Were tipped off by Kitty," Wes admitted. "Blaine was with me that night going over some documentation when he up and left without explanation. He was bored, and I assumed he'd been invited to a party or something; so I had Kitty arrange a quick photo op at the hotel. Jeff and Nick were out, too, and it was a perfect opportunity to archive the three returning."
"Why?"
Wes sighed. "This was before the fall out over Nick and Blaine's songs. It was just supposed to be a way to get the press and fans talking about them again. Show them living the high life, going out and staying in luxury hotels. But now…we're weeks away from releasing their severely delayed EP. Their third album follows in late November. The future of the band is on the line because Blaine and Nick pissed off Jonathan Smythe. And since Blaine met you he's calmed down. So much so, in fact, that no one's been writing about him."
"I thought you wanted him to behave?" Kurt said incredulously.
"I did. I do. For his own sake. But for the band? I didn't realize how much their success over the last two years had relied on Blaine getting himself into the papers. Not until he calmed down. A former prep school good-boy-gone-bad is an easier sell than the reverse. That takes some skill."
Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. "How can you talk about all this so clinically?" he accused. "Blaine is supposed to be your friend, and you're talking about his personal problems like they're nothing more than a PR issue!"
"I am his friend," Wes sniped. "I want him to be happy. Don't ever accuse me of not caring about him, Kurt. You might be his boyfriend for now—"
"—for now?" Kurt repeated, outraged.
"Yes. For now. Come on, he's a teenager. Boyfriends are a short term thing for him. And just because you're the 'current boyfriend', it doesn't give you the right to question my loyalties."
"Well, can you blame me?" Kurt shot back. "You're talking about him like he's a robot designed to create headlines, not a boy who was on the brink of hurting himself when I was hired, because people kept pushing him around of the hand he'd been dealt! The way you've had the media breathing down his neck could have easily driven him to an actual breakdown, Wes! What kind of friend does that?"
"You don't know the kind of pressure I'm under!," Wes thundered. "Kitty and I need to get people talking about the band if we're going to have any chance of winning against Smythe. We didn't know how until we saw the fans' and the media's reaction to you next to him."
"Me?" Kurt spluttered, incredulous.
"Yes, Kurt. You. We can't make the media talk about Blaine, the reformed bad-boy. But presenting him as a boy in love? That's a viable option. That's the kind of shit the public laps up. And on top of that, you're American. So that opens the U.S. market back up for us because the boys all will seem more attainable to their State-side fans."
Kurt tried to respond, but snapped his mouth shut when only disgusting names and curse words came to mind. How the hell was he going to explain this to Blaine? Unless…
"Does Blaine know about this?" Kurt asked. Please say no.
"No, he doesn't," Wes admitted awkwardly.
Kurt relaxed a fraction at that. So he wasn't being fooled from all sides. Licking his dry lips, Kurt looked at his own fingers digging into the edge of the desk, as if that was the only thing keeping him from throttling the man Blaine had trusted with his career.
"You didn't change my contract for Blaine and me, did you?" Kurt realized aloud.
"I want him to be happy, Kurt."
"That's not what I asked."
"I want him to be happy," Wes repeated, voice stronger. "That was part of the reason."
Kurt's answering scowl was vicious. "And the other part?"
"…It's better for his young fans to talk about a romance than the reputation he'd made for himself," Wes replied. "We have to rebuild his image, Kurt; erase the idea that the one gay member of the band is a promiscuous stereotype."
"So you sent the media to the restaurant last night to give the fans a fairytale gay romance?"
Wes didn't deny it this time, and Kurt sat back and laughed cynically.
"And instead you got the headlines he used to get. You have to see the irony here. A photographer grabbed me, and Blaine lashed out. You're cunning plan backfired, and now Blaine is back to having to defend himself."
"Blaine had good reason for lashing out," Wes said evenly. "Kitty and I can work with that."
A solitary tear slid the length of Kurt's face; he brushed it away. "Just tell me why I wasn't told."
"Because it wasn't our initial intention to involve you!" Wes beseeched. "The romance angle fell into our laps. I'm not explaining this very well."
"Then try harder."
"Kurt, those first paparazzi photos outside the hotel months ago? They weren't meant to include you. I didn't know Blaine had run to you when I gave Kitty the order to inform the press. But once they were out there, I couldn't deny what I was seeing. What it could potentially mean."
"What?"
"I can read Blaine like a book; everyone knows how he feels about you," Wes said. "It's you I couldn't work out. Not until I saw you with your guard down that night. I began to hope that maybe you could love Blaine the way he deserves, and be the key to improving the band's image. But I didn't want you to feel obligated to pretend you had feelings for Blaine. So we took away that last barrier between you, to see if your relationship would progress the way we thought it would."
"The contract change," Kurt bit out through gritted teeth.
"Yes."
"I was nearly sexually assaulted that night by his ex, Jeremiah," Kurt spat. "Did Blaine tell you that? There's photographic evidence of a night I would rather forget all over the internet because you wanted to rile up the fan base and boost the band's profile!"
"I didn't know that had happened to you at the time, Kurt!" Wes shook his head, eyes begging Kurt to understand. "If I'd known, I would have warned Blaine to drive round the back."
"You expect me to believe that when you've spent god knows how long lying to me?" Kurt yelled. He'd lost all patience now. "All anyone does around here is lie. Let's say I believe those photos weren't a set up for both of us; it still happened again! How did you know we were in Windsor that day?"
"I didn't. That wasn't me."
"Bullshit!"
"Watch your language, Kurt! I'm still your superior," Wes said sharply.
Kurt chewed the inside of his mouth to force himself into silence, still glaring at Wes.
"Can I explain myself, or are you going to interrupt again?" Kurt made no move to respond; so Wes took a breath. "Kurt, that video of you and Blaine in Windsor was taken by a fan. I may have lit the first match—approving the photos outside the hotel—but all sightings of you guys, until last night, were fan encounters. It's because your social media presence has increased."
"Did it ever occur to you that I don't want to be the rumored boyfriend?" Kurt accused. "Blaine and I are together now, but we were still dancing around each other two months ago. Do you not realize how easily you could have scared me away?"
"Yes, it has occurred to me." Wes sighed regretfully. "If you and Blaine didn't come together, I would have taken steps to make the attention towards you die down."
"You just said it's the fans who keep a lookout for me. What can you do to stop that?"
"Keep you off red carpets, advise you not to go out with Blaine in public, stop interviewers asking about you. There are limitations I can put into effect, Kurt. If you want them. However…"
"However. What?" Kurt growled.
"Kitty and I would like to continue on this track," Wes said, slow and careful.
"Excuse me?" Kurt asked sharply.
"In a way it's good this conversation has taken place because we need all the help we can get to make sure The Warblers still have a record deal at the end of the year."
"Oh my god, you're not seriously suggesting—"
"—when it comes to the fate of my best friends' careers, I am perfectly serious, Kurt," Wes interrupted. "If you and Blaine agree, we want to capitalize on your relationship to keep the band in the headlines. And that means—"
"—coming out as a couple to the media." Kurt sneered.
"Yes."
Kurt was done with this conversation. This was too far.
"You know what?" he hissed. "My personal life is not a byline in a newspaper. My relationship with Blaine is not for sale. I'm not some puppet you can roll out every time you think my boyfriend and his friends need a boost!"
"Kurt—"
"—and I can't speak for Blaine, but I'm pretty sure his response to this is going to be 'fuck' and 'you'," Kurt continued. "Because there is a line, Wes, and you are not welcome on this side of it. Our relationship has nothing to do with either of our careers. It's just for us."
"Kurt," Wes said exasperatedly, "you met at work. You've been his assistant all year—"
"Yeah? And? People who work for the same company date all the time. That doesn't mean their relationship is their employer's business."
"It is if they work together," Wes retorted. "Which you and Blaine do."
"Then move me!" Kurt snapped. "That's why I'm getting experience in wardrobe, anyway, right? You just want me out of the way so you can use me without a conflict of interest."
Kurt shook his head and laughed, because wow. The pieces were really coming together now.
"All I'm asking for is one public statement that you're dating and the occasional photo op. Just enough to wet the public's appetite. I know you're auditioning for stage roles; so it's not like you don't want to be in the public eye," Wes hurled back. "If anything, capitalizing on Blaine will help you make a name for yourself. And keep the rest of us employed."
"You just don't get it, do you?" Kurt jumped to his feet and glowered at Wes. "I want to be known for the acting I do on stage—not live my life like a reality show. I can't and won't use him, and he doesn't want to use me, either!"
"I thought you said you can't speak for him," Wes said snidely.
Kurt wasn't going to take the bait this time though. He sat back in his seat and appraised Wes with a smirk sharper than an icicle. "You don't get to blur the lines, Wes," he said coldly. "You have no right to that. So don't you dare sit there and act like you do! I am in a relationship with Blaine. Not Blaine and you! There's nothing in my contract about you having a say in my personal life, and you won't bully me.
"And you know what? I'm not discussing this anymore. Not without Blaine. Because more than anything, he deserves to know the truth. So here's what's going to happen." Kurt leaned forward, set his palms on the desk, and held Wes' wary eyes in the grip of his own icy stare . "You will explain this to him. TODAY."
"Kurt, you are forgetting who is in charge here," Wes responded sharply.
"And you forgot to mention I'mve been part of a PR experiment; so you don't get to talk!" Kurt spat.
Wes opened his mouth furiously, Kurt's accusation hitting him between the eyes.
"When Blaine has all the facts, he and I will discuss how we want to deal with your proposition and let you know. If we choose to stay out of the limelight, you will honor that and make the media interest in me die. Understood?"
"I…" Wes looked long and hard at Kurt, took a deep breath, and said with resignation, "That sounds reasonable."
"You're also going to explain to Jeff, David, Nick, and Trent what you and Kitty have done."
"…Fine."
"And this is the most important part; so please listen closely." Even Kurt was surprised by the steel in his voice.
Wes swallowed and gestured for Kurt to continue.
"Relax the strangle hold you have on Blaine's personal life."
"I beg your pardon?" Wes said, affronted.
"If Blaine is going to continue fronting the band, he needs some semblance of control over his own life. The way things are now—all the shadiness, treating him as if he's too fragile to handle the real world—it has to stop."
"Kurt, his personal life is entwined with his career. I have to know what's going on so I can do damage control if he messes up."
"You see, this is the problem," Kurt ground out. "You just assume he's going to fuck everything up, but he actually has a pretty good head on his shoulders when you're not penalizing him for every single, minor misstep."
"I do not—"
"—Doing things his way, instead of yours, doesn't make it a fuck up, Wes. He doesn't need you micromanaging him. What he needs is for you to stop making all his personal decisions for him. He's turning twenty in January. He's not a kid. Let him make mistakes. Let him learn how to look after himself. Let him hear the worst. He's not that boy you remember from Dalton, Wes. He's a man who desperately wants to join the real world. Let him."
"Oh, for the love of—there's really no arguing with you, is there?" Wes grumbled, and threw his glasses down on the desk. Kurt's answering smile did not reach his grey eyes. "Alright, I'll step back. It's not like he listens to me anyway."
"I'm glad we understand one another," Kurt said coolly. He picked his phone up off the desk, stopped the audio recording and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. "Thank you for being honest, Wes…but I can't trust you anymore. I want this in writing."
The slam of Wes' office door behind him was heard on three separate floors.
A/N: A big thank you to all my readers up to this point for your reviews! I've had this arc planned out for months so I was nervous to finally put this chapter out. Hope it didn't disappoint.
Please Note: This fic is NOT ABANDONED. The reason I have not updated since August is because of writer's block and real life obligations. The next chapter is written, but my beta has not had a chance to look it over for me yet. The moment the chapter is the best it can be, I will post it. Thank you for your patience and sorry for the wait. I know I've left the story on a cliffhanger.