Hi hi hi :) Hope you had a wonderful week.

Can't thank you guys enough for the amazing comments and reactions to this story so far. It makes me very happy that you're enjoying it and it motivates me to write the last couple of chapters.

Thanks to Christine for working so hard on revising these chapters for me :) Best beta ever.

And, as I've been saying since this story started, shout out to Sofi. I would still be stuck on chapter 3 if it weren't for her.

Enjoy!


Ever since Kurt had met Blaine, he realized his life had lacked balance until then. It had all been running, running, running around, trying to catch up with everything, never really stopping to enjoy anything, just going from one obligation to the next, wondering if this was what adulthood was supposed to be like – would he ever settle down, find his path, find his happiness? Or would it always be like this, like he was trying to reach for something he couldn't quite see?

But then Blaine had come along and it had somehow forced Kurt to stop for a moment, to breathe, to let himself enjoy meeting someone new. He guessed there was just something magical about Blaine, something that made him realize there was more to life than killing himself at a job he hated or struggling to keep up with his classes.

Having Blaine in his life meant he had excuses to smile at random times of the day, either because Blaine texted him – to wish him a good day, to make sure he made it home safely, to make plans with him or just to spark a conversation because he wanted to, and that truly blew Kurt's mind off sometimes; Blaine wanted to talk to him – or because he was seeing him soon and that gave him something to look forward to. The last thing he did every night was either texting Blaine or falling asleep against his naked chest, though he definitely preferred the second one.

He only wished everything else in his life could fall into place like his love life seemed to.

The diner was still pretty much a nightmare. His shifts were weirdly scheduled to the point he rarely had a full day off, so he always felt like he was trying to catch up on sleep. Gunther was a pretty awful boss, and the tips lately had been abysmal, making him feel like nothing was worth it anymore. But he needed to stick at it because it was his only source of income and he really, really wanted to make it home for Christmas. He missed his dad. He missed Carole and Finn. He wanted to see his family.

NYADA felt like some kind of endless race. Whenever he seemed to catch up enough to make it to the finish line, something new was dropped right in front of him and he got lost and behind again. Dance class was a special kind of hell because he never had time to rehearse, and Cassandra July was clearly getting fed up with him. She had put him in charge of washing the towels and dance belts after practice last week, which seemed to be her favorite kind of punishment. He had no doubt that she was going to fail him at the end of the term, and just thinking about going through it all again made him want to cry.

Just like Blaine, Vogue remained his only light at the end of the tunnel, the only thing he truly seemed to enjoy about his every day. It was amazing how much he was learning, and he loved hanging out with Isabelle, tagging along for shoots or meetings. It felt like there was always something exciting happening, and he couldn't believe he got to be part of it.

The only problem was that his internship would come to an end before the new year. He had about a month and a half left in this office, unless they decided to hire him. He wanted to think that, with how much Isabelle seemed to like him, he had a real shot, but the truth was that everything was uncertain and that she knew he was studying to be a performer. Maybe the bosses would prefer to go with Melanie, who was about to graduate from Parsons, or Diego, who had already started his own small line. Everyone else knew that Kurt's ambitions had originally been set on Broadway, and no one seemed to understand how Kurt had ended up snagging one of the internship spots.

There were days he didn't understand, either.

The reorganization of the Vogue vault ended up taking a lot longer than any of them expected. They were currently knee deep in designer gowns and shoes, and Kurt was sure they would have been done with this a week ago if they could agree on an organization system instead of arguing about every little thing. It also didn't help that Diego and Hannah kept sneaking off to make out in the back.

God, he hated all these jerks.

He was working by himself in a corner of the room, ignoring whatever comments the others threw his way. He knew this was a very competitive environment but he didn't understand why they all seemed to have a problem with him, and not with each other – though he was sure they would have no hesitations about stabbing each other in the back if it meant they got to sign a contract to stay after their internship ended. And as the end of the internship came closer, they all seemed to get more and more vicious.

He finished putting each pair of shoes into the new transparent boxes that would allow to make it easier to find whatever they needed for shoots and events and stacked several to carry them to the shelves on the opposite side of the room. As he made his way there, he was making a mental list of the reading he needed to make for his Vocal Theory class – god, he was so behind again – so he didn't see Jack sticking his foot out. He tripped, of course he did, and in his attempt not to drop any of the boxes, he took a few steps trying to catch his balance, failing horribly and also stepping on the edge of a long red silk gown that Melanie was carrying. The sound of the seams ripping apart seemed to echo in the suddenly quiet vault.

"Hummel, you fumbling idiot," Melanie spat, watching the dress with wide eyed horror. "This is a Christian Dior gown. It costs more than whatever miserable shack in the middle of Nowhere, Iowa you came from. What the hell are you doing?"

Kurt turned to glare at Jack. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack said innocently. "I'm just sitting here classifying bowties. It's not my fault you don't look where you're going."

"I am not getting fired for this," Melanie said angrily.

"What the hell happened?" Diego asked, as he tried to wipe some lipstick from the corner of his mouth, followed closely by Hannah. "Oh my god, is that dress…?"

"Hummel did it," Jack said at once, before Kurt could even open his mouth.

"Only because you made me trip, you asshole," Kurt replied. He could feel a headache growing. He felt nauseous.

Melanie grabbed the mangled dress and walked out of the vault, looking terrifyingly determined. Kurt didn't need to ask her where she was going. It was obvious she was going to rat him out before she had to face any consequences herself. And knowing he had no support in this room, he had no doubts that the other interns would back her up.

He turned away from the rest of them and took the boxes to the shelves. He busied himself arranging them just right, with all their tags facing the front, telling himself it was useless to cry, and even if it wasn't, he would rather die than cry in front of all these idiots. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.

It had been nice to be at Vogue. It had been an amazing experience. Part of him wanted to believe this wasn't the end, but he also knew that, no matter how much Isabelle liked him, she wouldn't be able to forgive that a two million dollars gown had been ruined.

Kurt could hear the others laughing quietly behind his back. He ignored them and returned to his spot, keeping his head high. He was going to keep working until he didn't have to anymore.

His chest felt tight.

Melanie returned ten minutes later, without the gown but with a big, triumphant smile on her face. She headed straight to him and said, in a venomously sweet voice: "Kurt? Isabelle is waiting for you in her office."

Once again, Kurt held his head high. He promised himself he wouldn't break down until he was at least on the subway on his way home. He didn't care if random New Yorkers saw him cry on public transportation, but there was no way he was going to let these five assholes see they had won.

It was a miracle he didn't throw up in the elevator as he made his way down to the seventh floor. He felt so queasy his legs were nearly ready to give out. It wasn't just that he was going to lose the opportunity of a lifetime – the idea of disappointing Isabelle, the woman who had believed in him when she truly had no reason to, was worse than that.

Holding the tears back only worked until he made it into her office. Then he could feel them spilling down his cheeks and he immediately said, before she could even invite him to take a seat: "Isabelle, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

The gown was stretched over her desk, red as blood, the ripped seams in full display.

Oh god, what if they made him pay for it? Where would he get that much money?

"Kurt," she said, her face serious. "Please, sit down."

"Maybe I can fix it," Kurt offered, and he was holding his own hands so tightly that his bones were ready to crack. "I'm really good at sewing. I know it won't undo what I did, but I…"

"Kurt," she repeated, this time a little louder, to break through his babbling. "Sit down."

Kurt quieted down as he did what he was told. He couldn't believe things were going to end like this…

"Did you know…" she began, watching him, "that we have surveillance in the vault?"

Kurt gaped at her for a moment, confused. "What?"

"There are cameras all over that vault. We have some of the most expensive fashion items in the world in there, of course there are cameras," Isabelle explained calmly. Kurt felt like his heart was lodged somewhere in his throat. "We know everything that happens in there. For instance, I know that Hannah almost lost a pair of diamond earrings last week."

Kurt blinked at her in confusion and then looked down at the dress, as if he was trying to make the connection.

"As soon as Melanie marched in here and accused you of ruining the gown, I checked the surveillance," Isabelle continued. "I mean, I wouldn't have been surprised if one of the others had done it – or even herself – and had tried to pin the fault on you. We both know how they are, after all. I see how they treat you every day."

"But I did do it," Kurt said sadly, wiping away his tears in embarrassment. If he was going to get fired, he really didn't want to cry. He was already ashamed enough.

"Well, yeah, but only because Jack made you trip," Isabelle shrugged. He couldn't understand how she wasn't more upset. "But someone has to pay for this. This gown costs millions of dollars. There has to be consequences."

The need to throw up returned. Kurt tried to take a deep breath and failed.

"So, naturally, we're going to have to let Jack go," Isabelle said. Kurt just blinked at her, wondering if he had heard wrong. "And it's not really a big loss, he's lazy and immature, and he's always distracting the others. I don't think he's gotten anything done since he started here."

"Wait, I don't understand…" Kurt muttered nervously. "So you're going to fire us both?"

"No, silly, I'm not firing you," Isabelle chuckled, and leaned across the desk to reach for Kurt's hand, who gave it to her, feeling numb. "Kurt, you work harder than any of them put together. I'm not saying Melanie or Diego or Jocelyn aren't good, because they are, and they would be amazing if they stopped looking for reasons to fight or making out in the back of the vault – yeah, I saw that, too."

"Isabelle…" He began to say but she shushed him.

"It's fine. I know you're sorry. It was an accident. Oh honey, look at you, you're almost shaking," she said and squeezed his hand. "I think you should take the rest of the day off. Plus, it will be so much fun to let the others believe I fired you and see their faces when you get here tomorrow."

Kurt laughed, relief finally breaking through the panic. "Oh, you're evil."

She winked at him. "They deserve it. Now, just go. Everything's fine, I promise. We'll get this fixed and it'll be like nothing even happened."

"Thank you so much," Kurt said sincerely. "You're… you're too good to me."

"I'm as good as you deserve," she retorted with a smile.

By the time Kurt stepped outside the Condé Nast building, he felt tired and drained, as if he had been doing hard labor the entire day. He had gone through so many emotions in such a short time, that he was now left feeling as if he had been anaesthetized. He had honestly thought it was all over. And he hadn't liked it one bit – so how would he feel in a little over a month, when it was over for real? Was he ready to let go of this experience?

He didn't realize he wasn't heading home until he was almost at Blaine's place. Without his permission or acknowledgement, his legs had seemed to guide him exactly where he needed to go. It was lucky that he knew that Blaine was working from home today, reading some scripts that Cooper had received.

He knew he would feel better once he saw Blaine. Maybe if he was really, really lucky, Blaine wouldn't mind taking a little break from work to make out with him until Kurt forgot what had happened at the office and how terrified he was of what might happen next.

Making out with Blaine was magical enough to cure cancer, end world hunger and save the environment.

Now that he was conscious of where he was heading, he was very eager to get there and see him. He rounded the last corner and hurried down the street, almost biting his lip in anticipation. But once Blaine's stoop was in plain sight, he froze, because it wasn't empty.

Blaine was standing at his front door, his arms wrapped tightly around a tall, athletic looking guy who was holding him back just as earnestly. He had dark hair and, once he pulled away enough, Kurt noticed he was very, very attractive. Blaine whispered something to him, softly, with the familiarity that comes from knowing someone well, his touch casual, like he didn't even have to think about it.

As if everything that had already happened today hadn't been enough for Kurt's poor mangled heart, this seemed to be the last straw. He felt himself deflate with the disappointment that nothing, nothing ever went the way he hoped it would: not his professional life, not his college career, and definitely not his love life. Because he clearly wasn't enough for Blaine.

How long had he been sleeping with this guy? He was around his age, so Kurt could never compete with him. Had Blaine only sought him out because he needed a distraction? Had everything been a lie and an illusion?

Any other day, he would have marched straight to Blaine and given him a piece of his mind, but not today. Because today had already taken too much from him, and the day wasn't even nearly over.

Just then, Blaine, smile bright as the sun, looked away from the man's face and right over his shoulder, and saw Kurt standing there like an idiot in the middle of the sidewalk.

Kurt didn't give him time to react. He just knew he needed to get out of here, that he couldn't hear the excuses that would surely come out of Blaine's mouth. Reading scripts for his brother, ha, sure. And Kurt had been stupid enough to believe that...

He turned around and left, walking briskly towards the subway, telling himself that he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to cry because of the stupid Vogue interns who enjoyed making him miserable on a daily basis, he wasn't going to cry because of the stress that was weighing down on his shoulders, and he wasn't going to cry because of a guy who had played him and made him believe he was special only to sleep with someone else when Kurt wasn't around...

He managed to hold back the tears until he was right outside his apartment. He called it a victory.


He had barely mouthed Kurt's name before he was gone, practically running away. Blaine frowned in confusion and stepped away from Mike, jogging down the street to see if he could catch up with him, but by the time he made it to the corner, Kurt had disappeared, leaving no trace. He had no idea where he was.

"What happened?" Mike asked when Blaine returned to his front door.

"I don't know," Blaine replied honestly. "That was Kurt. I don't know why he just left like that..."

"Maybe you should call him," Mike said, squeezing his shoulder. "Make sure he's okay."

"Yeah, I'm gonna do that..." Blaine said, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

"Well, I'd better go. Thank you for your help, Blaine. Tina's going to be so excited..." Mike grinned and he was practically bouncing on his spot. "It's impossible to hide surprises for her at home. She always finds them way ahead of time..."

"No problem," Blaine said, but he was distracted. "I'm always happy to help."

Mike patted his back and then made his way down the steps and walked away. Blaine went back inside, as he dialed Kurt's number, closing the door and leaning against it as he waited for him to pick up.

Only, he didn't.

Blaine tried a few more times, getting more and more worried. There was something about the way Kurt had looked, just a flash of hurt, that was very unsettling to him. Plus, why had he come to see Blaine? He was supposed to still be at Vogue, and they hadn't planned to see each other today because Kurt had class and then a shift at the diner. It was just one of those insanely busy days in which they were lucky if they could call each other for a few minutes before bed...

There had to be a reason he had come like this, unannounced. And there also had to be a reason why he had run away...

The problem was, if Kurt didn't pick up the phone, how was Blaine supposed to figure out how to help him?

It seemed that Blaine needed to get creative.


The loft was blissfully empty, which Kurt decided to count as a blessing. The last thing he needed was for Rachel or Santana to ask questions he didn't feel like answering to.

He dropped his messenger bag on the floor and marched straight to his bedroom – or the area where his bed was; it couldn't be called a room even on Kurt's best days – and he immediately changed out of his clothes. He found a pair of yoga pants and his old Hummel Tires and Lube hoodie and slipped into them, loving the subtle comfort of wearing something that made him feel closer to home.

For the first time in his life, he actually felt homesick – and not homesick because of his family, though knowing they were always waiting for him made him ache with longing. He was actually homesick for the simplicity of Lima, Ohio. What had he been thinking, coming to this big city? What the hell had he found here, except a constant feeling of inadequacy?

He was never good enough – not good enough to make it through NYADA without feeling like he was always running to try to catch up with his classmates; not good enough to make a career at Vogue without everyone hating him and turning against him; not good enough to survive in this city without having to resign his happiness, his sleep, and sometimes, even worse, his own dignity.

And he clearly wasn't good enough to get a guy like Blaine, to keep his interest, to make him happy.

He had been such an idiot.

Would it be so bad, if he went home? He could help his father and Finn out at the garage, aspire to a quieter life. He had grown up thinking he was too big for such a small town, too different, too bright. But maybe he wasn't. Maybe it took a special kind of person to make it in New York.

Maybe he had never been as special as he thought.

Once he was in a more sulking-worthy outfit, Kurt made his way to the kitchen and searched through the back of the freezer, hoping there was ice-cream left. He never got to it before the girls ate it, and it seemed he was out of luck this time, as well. Of course. Of course there wasn't any comfort food left in the house when he needed it.

He boiled some water for tea instead, hoping it would at least help him feel warmer. He couldn't avoid the rush of coldness that went through him whenever he thought about Blaine wrapping his arms around that guy, so gently, so lovingly...

Had it all been an act? It hadn't seemed like it to Kurt. Blaine had seemed so sincere, so sweet. But what if he was just another disgusting pig who lied to get sex? What if he had just seen an opportunity to fuck Kurt, to have some fun, and he had taken it? And Kurt, god, what an idiot he had been. He had made it all up in his head, let himself start to fall and Blaine had probably been sleeping around all this time...

He felt like he was going to be sick.

He was pouring the boiling water into a mug when there was a knock on the door. He groaned. It was probably Rachel, who was always forgetting her keys, or maybe even their downstairs neighbor, who was always borrowing baking ingredients from them and promising to return them soon, but it had been a year and Kurt still hadn't seen as much as a spoonful of sugar from her...

The one person Kurt had definitely not expected to see as soon as he pulled the door open, was Blaine.

"Kurt," he said, and the flash of relief on his face was clear as day. "Thank god. You're here."

Kurt backed away as if he had been burned by the sight of him at his front door. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry to just drop by, it's just..." Blaine paused and frowned, like he was suddenly noticing Kurt wasn't exactly pleased to see him. "When you ran away, I got so worried and you wouldn't answer my calls, and I... I had to see you. So I called one of the show's producers and asked them to check Santana's audition form for her address." He hesitated before he added: "I... I hope that's okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Kurt said firmly. "In fact, I would appreciate it if you left right now. I don't ever want to see you again."

Blaine's sharp intake of breath seemed to pierce Kurt's chest. "What? Why? What happened?"

"You... I can't believe you!" Kurt screamed incredulously. "You play this part, like you're a super nice and sensitive guy, but you're clearly not. And I can't believe I was so stupid to fall for all your silly little tricks. Sending me flowers at work and then showing up at the diner just to see me and your whole sweet, bashful act... it's disgusting."

The color had completely drained from Blaine's face. "It wasn't an act. What are you talking about, Kurt? I don't understand."

Frustratingly, Kurt noticed there were tears sliding down his face. He wiped them away hastily, but it was in vain, because they were instantly replaced by fresh ones. "I'm not some boy toy you can fuck and use as you please until someone hotter comes around!"

Blaine looked as if he had just slapped him. He looked as sick as Kurt felt. "Kurt... what are you talking about?" He repeated desperately. "I honestly... I don't understand." He tried to reach for him but Kurt took a quick step back, away from him. He didn't think he could resist it if Blaine touched him. "Please, please, just tell me what I did wrong..."

Kurt laughed bitterly, once again wiping away his tears even though it was pointless. "Wow, you've got some nerve... that guy, Blaine. The very handsome, very tall, very age-appropriate guy you were holding at your door like an hour ago. I saw you."

Blaine ran a hand down his face. He seemed so tired right then, older almost, weary. Kurt's heart broke a bit at the sight, because despite everything, he couldn't help but care about him. What an idiot his heart was.

"Kurt," Blaine said, calmly, but sounding very hurt. "That guy I was with is Mike, one of my best friends, who happens to be extremely straight and married to my other best friend, Tina."

Kurt paused, taken aback – why hadn't it occurred to him that it could be one of Blaine's friends? Why did his mind go straight to the gutter?

"He was hugging me because I'm helping him surprise Tina for their anniversary," Blaine explained slowly, like Kurt was a tiny baby animal he was trying not to scare away. "He booked a trip for her and he packed a couple of bags and hid them at my place so she doesn't suspect a thing until they're heading on a vacation she really, really deserves and needs right now."

"Oh," Kurt breathed out, the only thing he was capable of saying. It was as if his brain had suddenly shut down.

Swallowing with some difficulty, Blaine took a tentative step forward, closer to Kurt, and looked him right in the eyes. "Trust me – this is not an act. I haven't lied to you once since the day we met. And I'm most certainly not sleeping with anyone else..."

"God, no," Kurt interrupted, mortified. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you and..."

"No, Kurt, it's okay, I..."

"No," Kurt interrupted again. "Please. I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have said any of those things. I'm just upset and it's been a hard day and I... Blaine, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Blaine reassured him once more, but there was still some weariness in his eyes, and it looked like he didn't quite dare touch him. "It was just a misunderstanding. But, for the record... I'm not the kind of guy who sleeps around with more than one man at the same time, you know?"

"I know, I know," Kurt muttered, closing his eyes for a second. "I know that. I promise I do."

"Even if he is," Blaine chuckled bitterly, the hurt written all over his face, "age-appropriate."

Unable to stop himself, Kurt threw his arms around Blaine's neck, holding him close, and began to pepper tiny little kisses on every available inch of him – his eyelids, his forehead, his cheekbones, his jaw, the tip of his nose, the corner of his lips. Blaine was quiet and unmoving against him, and Kurt wouldn't have blamed him if he pushed him away and walked out of the loft at once.

Kurt could be the biggest idiot in the world when he was upset.

"I didn't mean that," he whispered as he dropped a kiss on his cheek. "I was just upset and freaking out. You know I don't care about it. You know."

"Kurt, it's fine if it bothers you," Blaine said, still so calm, but Kurt knew him well enough now to know it was just a mask he wore when he felt like he needed it. Kurt hated that Blaine felt like he needed it with him. "It's fine if this isn't what you thought it would be. It's fine if you want to put an end to it because..."

"No," Kurt said, and his chest hurt so much it felt like it was about to crack open. "No, I don't want it to end. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said that. I say stupid things when I'm angry. I'm petty and immature and difficult and stupid and I'm sorry, Blaine, please."

It was unbearable to see Blaine like this. Kurt wanted to erase the hurt, to erase what he had said, but he didn't know how. The only thing he could do was kiss him and hope it would be enough. Blaine kissed him back almost instantly, like he couldn't not, and Kurt only pulled away when he needed a moment to breathe. He pressed his forehead against Blaine's temple, still holding him close, afraid Blaine would just walk away if he let go.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Blaine whispered, hands settling loosely on Kurt's waist.

"It's not. You're just too nice for your own good," Kurt murmured, grabbing onto the back of Blaine's coat. "I just... I had a bad day. I wanted to see you, and when I saw you with him I could only think... I don't know. I guess it made sense that there was something else I wasn't enough for."

Blaine pulled away then, but didn't let go of him. He was frowning, and concern had replaced the hurt on his face, or at least it was helping him hide it. "Baby, no," he said. "Why would you say that? What happened?"

Even though it was the last thing he wanted, Kurt stepped out of Blaine's embrace and reached for his hand instead. He pulled him further into the loft so he could close the door, and Blaine followed easily, despite the fact that Kurt wouldn't have blamed him for being the one to run away now.

"Come on," he said, leading him to the kitchen. "I was about to make some tea. Would you like one?"

As they sat at the kitchen table, cups of tea in their hands, Kurt told Blaine everything that had happened at Vogue, how it had made him spiral into despair and self-doubt, how he was already feeling very vulnerable by the time he arrived at Blaine's house, how easy it had been, in that state, to completely misread the situation.

"And it's not just Vogue, you know? I guess I could just ignore all those idiots. They're jealous, after all," Kurt said at last, looking down into his half-empty cup of tea, already going cold. "I feel like I'm just constantly trying to catch up with my own life, like I'm just willing time away so I can be done with all the hard stuff. But shouldn't I be enjoying my life, especially now? Shouldn't I be having fun and making lifelong memories and being happy?"

Blaine reached across the table, grabbed Kurt's hand between his own, held it carefully, as his hazel eyes regarded him. "You're not happy?"

Kurt sighed. He placed his free hand on top of Blaine's. "With you? Always."

Blaine looked down, a bit bashful. "That's not what I mean, Kurt, but it's nice to know."

Kurt bit his lip. "Well, it's the truth. I've definitely been happier since I've met you. But it's like..." He paused, searching for the right words. "You know, the alarm goes off in the morning, and I dread my days. And not in a I-want-to-sleep-in-and-be-lazy-all-day kind of way. I dread every single day."

"That's tough, Kurt," Blaine said softly. "I've felt like that a few times, and I know it's not easy."

"And I don't want to sound ungrateful," Kurt hurried to say. "Because it still feels like I came so far after how horrible high school and life back in Ohio was, but... I don't know, it also feels like it shouldn't be a constant struggle. It feels like I'm never going to actually get where I want to be because... well, because most days I don't even know where I want to be anymore."

Blaine smiled at him kindly, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of his hand. "Kurt, everyone feels like that at one point or another. The uncertainty is just part of life, especially, and don't kill me for saying this, at your age."

Kurt felt absolutely mortified. "Is this because of what I said? I'm so sorry about that..."

"No, it's just the way things are," Blaine said. "Kurt, you're twenty. You can't have it all figured out. And I'm sorry if you're not enjoying what you're doing now, but sometimes it takes a while to find out what you really want, and even if you're not having a good time, this is going to be a very useful experience. It'll push you in other directions when you need it."

"The worst part is that I know that," Kurt said with a heavy sigh. "I know it's not an overnight thing. But I feel so miserable all the time... well," he stopped and tilted his head. "Not all the time," he added, looking purposefully at Blaine.

"The quitting everything plan is still on the table, by the way," Blaine said with a playful wink. "We can just hide away in my bedroom until we're sick of each other..."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Stop tempting me."

"Look, Kurt," Blaine began to say, more seriously this time. "I don't think I'm the perfect person to preach about this, because I haven't really done anything I wanted in my entire life. I wasn't very proactive in the search for my own happiness, really. But you know, you're bright and smart and talented... whatever you decide to do, whatever makes you happiest... I'm not worried. You can take Broadway by storm, you can take the fashion world by storm. Or even something completely new and unexpected. I have no doubt at all that you can do whatever you set your mind to."

"Blaine," Kurt said, unable to hold back his smile. "You're all of those things, too, and so much more. And it's never late, you know?"

Blaine lifted Kurt's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, and Kurt wondered if he was aware of how much he loved it when he did that. It never failed to melt Kurt right down to his bones. "I know. I just lost practice at figuring that stuff out. And, well, Cooper needs me."

"What about what you need?" Kurt muttered, and it seemed like the question actually bewildered Blaine, because he simply blinked at him for a moment, as if unsure of what to say. "Sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me today, I just keep saying things I shouldn't..."

"No, no," Blaine said then, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's fine. It's just... I haven't actually thought about that in a very long time."

"Well," Kurt tangled their fingers together and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe you should."

Blaine smiled but didn't seem entirely comfortable with the turn of the conversation. He got up and grabbed their mugs to take them to the sink. "Maybe," he said vaguely. He then stood by the counter and looked around the loft, as if he was finally noticing it. "This place is amazing."

"It's a dump," Kurt retorted. "But it's okay for now, I guess."

"It's really spacious, though. You wouldn't be able to find an apartment this big in Manhattan," Blaine commented.

"Sure, but I would rather live in a much smaller place if I could have walls in my bedroom," Kurt said, and Blaine laughed. "I'm honestly not asking for much here."

There was a moment of silence that felt awkward. Kurt didn't remember a single moment with Blaine since the night they had met that had felt this awkward. It was unsettling and he didn't like it.

"Blaine, I'm really sorry about what I said, and how I acted..." He began, only for Blaine to shake his head.

"Oh, no, it's fine. Don't worry. Really." The smile on Blaine's face didn't look as sincere as it usually did, and Kurt suspected that he knew exactly what Blaine was thinking right now.

Age-appropriate. What an idiot he was.

Blaine looked down at his wrist watch. "I have to go. I still have to finish with those scripts and then head over to the studio."

"Okay," Kurt said, but the ache in his chest had returned. "Thank you for coming and... again, I'm so..."

"I know," Blaine said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. He kissed him like nothing was wrong. "And don't be so hard on yourself, okay? You'll get there. Be patient."

"I'll try," Kurt promised.

He walked him to the door and wished he didn't have to let go. He wanted to pull him further into the loft, right towards his bed and kiss him until they both forgot just how stupid Kurt had been that day.

"Call me tonight, after your shift?" Blaine said as they lingered by the door.

"Of course," Kurt said. He leaned in for another kiss, savored it like it could be the last one.

Once he was alone, Kurt realized the uneasiness he had been feeling that day wasn't gone, it had just faded a bit, but it was still there. It was as clear as the memory of Blaine's face when he had accused him of lying.

Of all the stupid things Kurt had done in his life, that was the stupidest one.


And so the drama begins... or maybe not? You'll have to keep reading to find out ;)

Have a great week. I'll be seeing you all on Saturday!

Love,

L.-