When he got back to his hotel room, the first thing Kurt did was take a shower. He was glad he and Britt had decided to get separate rooms for the trip despite the added cost. He did not want to consider what he could have walked in on now that his friend had met her soulmate. He was happy for her, over the moon in fact, but he definitely did not want to see any of that.

Kurt had hoped that the shower would wash away some of the ick and filth from the evening, and while it worked to clean his skin, there were still some rather unpleasant thoughts floating through his head. He had been disturbed by the display of-apparently unreciprocated-affection he'd seen between Eli and Blaine. Eli had acted like a child, and Blaine had looked disgusted by his outburst. I'm glad they weren't hanging all over one another; that would have been just as bad, but I can't move past the feeling that Blaine's not really into whatever is happening between them. I hope he's not being coerced.

That would be the worst part of being famous, he supposed, having to do things with one's personal life that one wouldn't normally do just to keep up appearances. The whole idea made him feel icky inside, and he quickly pushed away the thoughts, deciding instead to focus on the real conundrum at hand: should he go back to Ohio or head out on tour with Blaine?

He had realized, a short time after he'd opened his texts in the car and read the one Blaine had sent to himself, that he didn't really know a lot about the singer's intentions. He'd had no reason to invite him on tour with them, and Kurt wasn't completely sure that the invitation wasn't a joke or an accident since Blaine had been, apparently, pretty drunk when they'd left the bar. Still, there was something in the other man's eyes that had looked like trust and appreciation the whole night, and Kurt was hesitant to believe that he'd treat him that way. What would he, famous Blaine Anderson, have to gain by manipulating and tricking a fan he'd just met? Did he just need a good story to tell the press? It seemed unlikely as Kurt had only ever heard rave reviews about the man, both from other fans who'd met him and people who'd worked with him on records and video shoots. He seemed to be an all-around good guy, and Kurt had experienced nothing to convince him otherwise while they chatted at Marie's.

Sitting down with the hotel notepad and pen, Kurt decided to make a list to help himself comb through his thoughts. He'd learned to do this early on from his mother, and it was a habit that stuck even now when he was trying to make tough choices. It helped, so he kept using it despite how time-consuming it could be if he was in a real pinch. At the top of the page, Kurt wrote out his conundrum: "Go with Blaine or go back to Ohio." Then, tapping his pen lightly against his chin, he started to brainstorm.

What was there for him in Ohio if he went back? His mother was there, of course, but his brain went immediately back to the conversation they'd had a few days before he'd left for New York.

"Kurt, are you happy?" his mother asked, coming to sit by him at the kitchen table. He'd been working hard on homework all weekend despite having come home to see her, stating that he wanted to be ahead before he left for his trip mid-week.

He looked up at her, his brow knitting in confusion. "Why do you ask?" he said instead of answering.

"I was just wondering," Elizabeth said, sitting down in a chair beside her son. "You've been my rock ever since your dad died, and while I appreciate that, I never meant for you to become the 'man of the family' so to speak. I wanted you to be a kid, and I thought you'd take the chance to explore your hobbies more when you graduated high school. But then you went to Dalton, and you're studying photography and-Oh, I don't know. You never complain, honey, and I admire that about you, but I just want you to be happy, not surviving for my sake."

"Mom…" Kurt whispered, doing his best to keep a lid on his emotions. They talked like this from time to time; they'd both realized they sometimes needed the relief of being able to say what they were thinking in a safe environment, something they could be for each other. "I'm happy. Just trying to do what's best for the family."

"But you're too young to be worrying about that," Elizabeth protested, scooting a bit closer. "You should be doing what makes you happy. You're only in your 20s once, and I can't stand that I'm taking that away from you."

"You're not," Kurt replied shaking his head. "Honestly, Mom. I don't feel burdened or like I'm not living my life."

"You do," Elizabeth agreed. "I can see it in your eyes, and you wear it like a badge. I'm sorry, honey." She took his hand, cupping it in hers and patting it a little. When she turned it over, she found his soulmark blazing up at her, and her eyes seemed to light up then. "You're going to New York with Brittany, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Mom. Why?"

Tenderly, she stroked a finger across his mark. "I hope you come back a changed man, a man with a soulmate on his arm." She paused only a moment before saying, "Actually, I hope you don't come back. Not because I don't love you or I don't want to see you but because I know that New York is your dream. And, I hope you find him there, and he convinces you to stay."

Kurt was getting choked up as he gently took her wrist, turning it over to reveal the Lima, Ohio, soulmark: a water tower with "Lima" emblazoned on it. He drew a small circle next to it where the heart had been when his father was still alive. "I hope when I come back," he'd whispered, fighting to keep the tears from spilling down his face and his voice from cracking, "that there's a heart there, Mom. I want you to be happy, and I really do think that Kai might be the one. Take that chance?" he asked her, looking up into her own tear-filled eyes. "Kiss him and see if you might be able to love him?"

Elizabeth nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to her son's cheek. "As long as you promise that you'll follow your dream."

Wrapping her in a hug, Kurt whispered, "I'll do my best."

I think she'll be okay if I don't come rushing back home, he mused to himself, putting "Happy Mom" on his list.

He was enrolled in school in Ohio, but he didn't love it. Dalton was a good school with good teachers; it just wasn't where his heart was. Photography, while fun, was not really his passion. He'd enjoyed his classes and had actually learned a lot from the few professors he'd had the opportunity to take classes from. His real passion, however, was music. He wanted to write it mostly, but playing it was fun, too. He regretted not having learned to play the piano better, but he had picked up the guitar easily. He did most of his composing on that; it was easy enough. What he really loved, however, was lyric writing. His bedroom back home-along with the backpack he'd brought to New York with him-was stuffed full of notebooks that had pages and pages of lyrics in them, some poetic and some stories. All of them full of notes about singers he'd like to have play the songs. Many were already assigned to Blaine. How better to learn about music than to follow around a singer? A singer I already know I have great respect for, he thought to himself once again.

This time, he wrote down, "Leaving school with no degree." After a few moments, he followed that up with, "Following my dreams" and "Learning about music."

What else keeps me in Ohio? Originally, had Santana not waltzed her way into the picture, Kurt would have put Brittany on that list. She was such a sweetheart and a wonderful friend, but she was a little batty and completely innocent. She needed someone to look out for her, and Kurt had been happy to step up and take that role. He was a natural caregiver, at least according to his mother, and he had seen something special in Brittany. She really was a smart girl, able to pick up on the little nuances in people that they didn't even know they were exhibiting. She was fascinating and fun to be around most of the time, and she always made him smile. She just needed a little looking after; that was all. Now, she had Santana to fill that role, and while they would always be friends, she was no longer a tie to home.

The only other thing tying me back home is my job, but I don't have a problem quitting, he realized, quickly writing, "Can get out of tired job" on the list. Wedding photographer was just not his calling, and he knew that Chang and Chang Wedding Photos would have no problem finding someone else to fill his spot. There was always a young photographer looking for a job.

Looking at the piece of paper in front of him, Kurt realized he'd only listed one reason that would keep him from remaining in New York. He was sure, if he thought about it for a while longer, he could come up with more emotional reasons not to go with Blaine, but it seemed as though Fate was driving him toward a life on the road with the band, at least for now. So, taking a deep breath, he made a decision, speaking it aloud to make it feel more real: "I'm going on tour with Blaine and Warbler Attack."

He felt a small sense of peace wash over him, and he sighed contentedly. There was a sudden weight lifted off of his shoulders each time he made a decision, and this time was no exception. In fact, he felt even more relieved because not going back to Ohio meant a new chapter for him. He could do this; it was time.

The first thing Kurt did was schedule text messages to the people he knew would have to know immediately about his decision.

To Mom, send at 8:15 a.m.: Your wish came true. I met someone in New York. I don't know yet if they're my soulmate, but I'm going to give a new adventure a try. More updates later, just wanted you to know I'm safe but not coming home.

To Britt, send at 8:15 a.m.: You'll never believe it, but Blaine Anderson invited me to go on tour with him. I'm going to say yes, so I won't be flying home with you on Sunday. Maybe San can take my seat on the way home.

To Tina Cohen-Chang, send at 8:15 a.m.: I am sorry to do it this way, but I am formally quitting my job. I have met someone in New York who is offering me a door to the dream I've always wanted. I can't pass it up. You've been a wonderful employer, and I thank you for all the opportunities you've given me.

Once that was done, Kurt took a few hours to research how to drop out of college. He knew he wouldn't be getting a refund for the courses he was currently enrolled in, and that was fine. It was too late in the game, and frankly, he didn't need the money. Finally, he discovered that he could simply email the Dean and state his reason. A drop out would go in his file but not on his record and wouldn't hinder him from being enrolled somewhere else. Perfect! he thought, locating the Dean's email address and opening up a new message.

Dean Sylvester,

I am writing to tell you that I am leaving your school and shall not be returning. My departure has nothing to do with your school, so do not fear repercussions. I simply have a better opportunity.

Regards,

Kurt Hummel

Student ID #1472683

With that off his plate, Kurt got on the airline's website to cancel his ticket. There was no refund for that, either.

By the time he was finished, it was after 4 a.m. That was too early to head off to Blaine's hotel, and try as he might, he knew he wasn't going to fall asleep. He was too nervous and excited. So, he decided to spend some time trying to write. It was dark in his room, but he didn't bother to turn on any lights, preferring to part the curtains and write by the light of the street lamps shining in. It was an aesthetic he hoped would inspire him.

Eventually, some shards of lyrics left his brain and flowed out his fingers, and he found that his inspiration, though partially from the dark room, also came from Blaine, a fact that surprised him.

As much as Kurt had obsessed over Blaine in the last few years and yes, he would admit it, even admired his body, he'd never had a romantic thought about him. He wondered to himself numerous times what it would be like to be friends with such a man, but he'd never, until that very moment, thought of him in a romantic sense. Yet he'd caught himself wondering what it might be like to cuddle with him, to kiss his lips gently, or whisper secrets to him. The words started to flow then.

"We got places we both gotta be

But there ain't nothing I would rather do

Than blow off all my plans for you

When no one seems to notice

And your days, they seem so hard

I won't ever try to change you, change you

I will always want the same you, same you

Swear to everything I pray to

That I won't break your heart"

He didn't know where the words came from, but he felt them nonetheless. Is there something more to this than just a fan and a musician? he wondered. He'd only said he wasn't sure if Blaine was his soulmate to his mother because he'd known she'd ask. Maybe there was more to it than he'd let himself believe?

Finally, around 7, Kurt hopped in the shower before gathering up his things and checking out of the hotel. They promised to refund his credit card for the night he wouldn't be staying and wished him a good day. Then, he was out the door, starting his adventure.

He was too eager. Kurt knew he was too eager, so instead of finding an Uber or a cab to take him to the hotel, he decided to walk. He needed the fresh morning air to clear his head and keep him from getting to Blaine's too early. Who knew how late the singer would want to sleep in? He was probably already pushing it getting there around eight.

His walk was pleasant. He stopped at a small coffee shop nearby Blaine's hotel and bought the two of them coffee and a few donuts. He figured it was the least he could do for waking him up so early.

When he pushed into the hotel lobby at 8:05, Kurt went straight to the front desk. "Excuse me," he said to the woman working the front desk. "Can you tell me which room Blaine Anderson is in? He's expecting me."

The woman looked him up and down. "I'm afraid not. Security reasons. You understand." She pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to tell him to go away.

"I don't actually. I'm not just a fan trying to see him. He invited me last night. He's expecting me. Ask him."

"Without some kind of proof, there's nothing I can do," the woman said. "There's security on his floor, and we have direct orders that Mr. Anderson is not to be disturbed." This time, she raised her brow as if daring him to confront her further.

"Guess I'll just have to call him," Kurt snipped, pulling out his phone. He knew they wouldn't just let him up but to turn him away without checking with Blaine was rude, and he didn't like this woman's eyebrow being raised at him.

Quickly, he dialed Blaine's phone number, which he had added to his contacts at the hotel, and put the phone on speaker, looking at the woman behind the desk with his own sass.

The phone rang several times, and Kurt was afraid that he wasn't going to pick up. Then, at the last moment, he heard what could only be described as a growl. "Yeah?"

"I-it's Kurt. From the bar last night. I'm down in the lobby. Can I come up?"

There was a long pause. Then, "Kurt? From last night? Um, yeah? I guess…"

"Will you tell the receptionist to give me your room number?"

"This is Blaine Anderson, room 206. Let him up."

"There," Kurt smirked, clicking the end button and pocketing his phone again. "Satisfied?"

"My apologies. Right this way," the receptionist said, leading him to the elevator. "Second floor. I'll let the guards know."

Kurt fiddled with the tray that held the coffee and donuts as he rode the short ride to the second floor. When the door opened, he was greeted by two tall, burly men in black shirts. They had radios clipped to their collars. "Kurt?" they asked.

"Yes. That's me."

They nodded, moving aside to let him pass just down the hall to room 206.

Kurt knocked, hearing a song playing in the background.

A moment later, Blaine opened the door and peered out through a small crack. When he saw Kurt, he gave him a quick smile and opened the door wider. "Come in."

"Thanks," Kurt said softly, stepping aside. "I brought coffee and donuts."

"Oh. Thanks," Blaine said mildly. He opened his mouth once or twice without saying anything, looking at Kurt curiously.

"Yes?" Kurt chuckled at his friend's curious face.

"Um, it's not like I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"Oh… Um, you asked me?"

"I did?"

Kurt nodded. "Last night. When we left the bar. You said I could go on tour with you."

"I-I did?"

Kurt nodded, even as his face fell. "Did you not mean it?"

Blaine paused, not sure what to say. He had no memory of telling Kurt he could come along. However, he couldn't bear to see this beautiful man in front of him upset. He was wearing his emotions like a mask, and it broke Blaine's heart to look at him. He shook his head. "I wasn't lying. I just…"

"I can go…"

"No! Wait! Please don't!"

"I can see when I'm not wanted, Blaine. It was a nice fantasy but nothing more, clearly. Thanks for the few moments of joy." He turned to open the door again.

"That's where you're wrong."

"Excuse me?"

"I want you to come. I do."

"Why the hesitation then?"

"Well…" Blaine paused, not sure what to tell him. Did he tell him that he was the reason he hadn't slept at all the night before, the reason Eli had broken up with him as soon as he'd gotten back to the hotel the night before and now his bandmate refused to talk to him? Did he tell him that he'd lain on his bed all night, staring at the ceiling, seeing his face in his mind and wondering if he'd ever see him again? Not yet. "It's complicated," he said at last. "I will tell you. Just not yet. Just know I want you to come along."

"Do you promise to tell me?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Over our coffee and donuts?" Blaine offered.

In response, Kurt went over to the small table beside a window, pulled out a chair, and plopped down. "What are you waiting for then?" he asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Well, we're leaving today. So, I really need to shower and get going. Tell you on the bus?"

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked, watching as Blaine waltzed over to grab a coffee and a donut.

"Philly."

"And, you're sure you want me to go?"

Blaine nodded profusely, his mouth full. "Imf surf."

Kurt laughed loudly. "What?"

"I'm sure," Blaine repeated after he swallowed.

"Fine then," Kurt agreed. "You can tell me on the bus."