"Hello, lover boy!" Elliott croons to Kurt as he pushes the backstage door open.

"Hi," Kurt says. "Thanks for waiting. I just need to grab my — Oof!" He squeaks as Elliott engulfs Kurt in a hug, picking him up off the ground and swinging him around.

Kurt smacks his arm. "Stop that! Put me down, you goose."

Elliott does, grinning broadly. "What, I couldn't resist hugging my gorgeous, talented, sexy lover boy, now could I?"

Kurt rolls his eyes at his friend. "We're supposed to be making this believable."

"What? I'm totally believable." He slings his arm around Kurt's shoulder, batting his eyes and making smooching noises.

Kurt can't help but laugh at his friend's antics. "Oh yes, very believable."

"I may not be a tony award winning Broadway actor, but I've got skills."

"Sure you do." Kurt pokes his side.

"So what's the game plan?"

"I don't know. Keep it simple? I'll introduce you to any cast and crew that are still around and then we walk out together."

"I don't get to kiss you?"

"Absolutely not." Kurt shudders. "No PDA."

"But, Butt—" Elliott starts to pout.

"You should be able to kiss your boyfriend!" A squeaky voice interrupts from behind and both Kurt and Elliott jump. Kurt looks at Chandler a little alarmed. How much had he heard? "This is the 21st century and you shouldn't have to suppress your feelings because there are homophobes."

Kurt gives a small sigh of relief. "I have no problems kissing my boyfriend. It's the public aspect that I find tacky."

"Oh, yeah, okay, I get that, I guess." Chandler answers, "I didn't mean to overhear, I do butt in sometimes, but you should be able to be with the one that you love. Even if it's this guy." He wrinkles his nose.

Kurt suppresses a giggle. "Elliott, this is Chandler. Chandler is one of our crew."

"Just sets, but I hope to make a break like Kurt someday. I'll never be as good of course. You must be so proud of Kurt." He stares at Elliott. "He is so amazing at every role and, gosh, getting to see him now in rehearsals…. It's like magic."

Apparently, finding out that his crush is unattainable isn't a deterrent to Chandler. Elliott looks amused. "Magic, you say?"

"Yes. Kurt deserves somebody who supports him and thinks he's amazing and—"

"And I have somebody who does." Kurt interrupts and takes Elliott's hand. "Thanks Chandler. We have to be going. Have a good night."

"Bye, Kurt! And Kurt's boyfriend, I suppose." He grumbles as he backs away.

Kurt tugs on Elliott's hand. "My dressing room is just back here."

"He seems sweet." Elliott murmurs as they move away. Luckily, the backstage is empty; only a single person greets Kurt as they maneuver down the hallway cluttered with set pieces. "A little much, but sweet,"

Kurt stares. "Much is an understatement. It's a lot much at times and I don't want to encourage him."

"I don't think my presence is going to stop him."

"Probably not, but maybe it'll be a little bit of a reality check. Before he goes full on stalker." He unlocks his dressing room door and ushers Elliott inside.

"Maybe. Nice digs."

"One of the few perks of being the star. You can sit there. It'll just be a moment."

Elliott plops himself on the sofa, sprawling his long legs over the side as Kurt grabs his wallet from the small safe. Wait, where are his keys? He pats himself down and digs through the dresser drawers.

"Seriously, though, Butt," Elliott continues, staring at the ceiling. "What is it that you are wanting from me for this boyfriend gig?"

"I thought we just discussed this." Kurt says absently, rifling through the clothes on the counter. "Simple and forgettable. Enough that they know your name, but won't be too shocked when you fade away."

"But for how long? Am I to be your plus one at parties? Do I get red carpet benefits?"

"Do you want red carpet benefits?"

"Wouldn't hurt to practice. One Three Hill is about to make it big." He hums. "Does Rachel know about this fake dating thing? Or what should we be telling your friends?"

Kurt stops pawing through the drawers. "I hadn't thought of that. Oh god. You're right. This is stupid and ridiculous. I'm a man in my thirties, what on earth am I doing?" Unexpected tears spring to his eyes and he breathes in deeply, staring up at the ceiling, willing them not to fall.

Elliott scrambles to his feet. "Whoa, hey, no, it's okay. I don't mind. If it makes your life easier, I'm here for you. I was just surprised. I mean, you seem to be handling Chandler well."

"It's not just Chandler. It's Chandler and Adam and the endless gossip. Broadway Direct posted some speculation last week that I was dating Aaron Treivit because we had dinner last week."

"Me being your boyfriend isn't going to stop that gossip." Elliott points out.

"No, but it'll stop me from being the most eligible gay bachelor or asking in round about ways if I've got a favorite gay bar. I'm either adorably single or I'm a slut and there's no in between. It's just… it's getting old, but I should be able to deal with it, right? This is what I wanted."

Elliott drags him back over to the sofa, forcing him to sit down. He grabs both of his hands. "Deep breath. In through your nose and out through your mouth. And in … out. That's it. I don't mean to give you a panic attack, I was just figuring out logistics. If this will give you space, I'm here for you."

Kurt slows his breathing to match Elliott's, letting the panic ebb. "Thanks."

"If you think about it, it's my fault that you're in this position."

"What?" Kurt looks up at Elliott, puzzled by the frown on his face. "What do you mean?"

"If we hadn't broken up—"

Kurt shakes his head firmly. "Ell, that was years ago. We make better friends and occasional band mates than we ever did lovers."

They had dated briefly, shortly after they had met and formed their band, tumbling into bed for some steamy but casual sex over the course of a month. Their break up had been amicable: Kurt had realized that he craved a more committed relationship and Elliott knew he didn't. As his first break up, Kurt had expected drama but, like everything else, Elliott had been calm and level headed, encouraging Kurt to follow his heart. The irony that years later, it was Elliott who was in a committed-but-open partnership with Chaz and Kurt who didn't date anybody longer than two months wasn't lost on him. Still. Elliott never brought up their past fling, ever, and Kurt had never had any suspicion that Elliott was harboring guilt a decade later.

He pauses and stares at his friend in suspicion. "Wait a minute. Did you just pull the old 'distract Kurt so he forgets why he's upset in the first place' routine?"

Elliott laughs. "Maybe. I do know you, after all. Come here." He pulls Kurt close to him and hugs him to his side. "It's going to be fine. You've got this, Kurt, and me and your friends are here to support you. Now, get your cell out. We're going to take some photos to put up on Facebook."

Kurt smiles. "Have. I told you recently that I love you?" He tilts his head towards Elliott and stretches his arms out to fit them in the frame.

"I love you too, dumbass," Elliott replies and kisses his cheek as Kurt snaps the picture.

The door opens. "Kurt are you still— Oh. I, I hadn't thought that you would be engaged. My apologies for the interruption."

Kurt wills himself to not blush. "Not at all. Adam, this is my boyfriend, Elliott. Adam's my co-star."

Elliott stands and shakes his hand. "Hi there."

"My pleasure." Adam's face betrays no emotion.

"We were just leaving. What was it that you were asking me about?" Kurt says smoothly.

"Oh, I wondered if you want to go over that new scene first thing in the morning or stick with the lines from Act Two. Unique says that it's up to us."

"Have we gotten any music yet?"

"None of the solos. Two group numbers, but the music director wants to work with the chorus first."

Kurt sighs in frustration. "This is the second week of rehearsals and they keep making edits to the script and we still don't have the music." He explains to Elliott. "It's getting ridiculous."

Adam waits patiently at the door for an answer.

"New material. It'll keep me from flying to L.A. and demanding that Mr. Durphy take this seriously. I'll read over the script this evening."

"Delightful. I'll inform Unique. Have a pleasant evening and I will see you first thing."

"First thing," Kurt agrees.

"Good night." Adam bids and nods his head briefly in Elliott's direction before closing the door.

Elliott waits until the door is fully closed and Adam's footsteps have faded away before bursting into laughter.

"What?" Kurt questions.

"Oh, honey. Is he that prim in bed too? 'May I engage in fellatio, darling?'"

"He's not that bad. I really dug his accent at one time. But… yes. Yes, he was."

"I'm seeing now why you need a fake boyfriend. Never fear, Star Child is here to rescue you."

Kurt snags his keys from the sofa where they had been partially hidden. "Oh god. What am I getting myself into? Come on, we're getting Thai. I deserve noodles tonight."

Kurt raps briskly on the door frame and plasters on a smile to the woman inside. Roz is a formidable woman, but he's out of patience. A little sweetness never hurt though. "Good morning, Ms. Washington. Your blouse is exquisite."

"And your attempts at flattery aren't. The songs aren't ready yet."

Kurt drops the smile. "Still? We should have had all of the songs a month before rehearsals started."

"Mr. Durphy believes that the pressure of time produces diamonds and all of his productions are diamonds."

"Oh come on, at this rate, we're not even creating cubic zirconium here!" Kurt protests.

"The songs are being workshopped."

"I was there for the workshop! I read and sang for the workshop and that was months ago." Kurt argues back.

"They weren't up to Mr. Durphy's standards and had to be redone."

Kurt throws his hands up. "I can't rehearse if I don't know what songs I'll be singing."

"Sure ya can." She sniffs, completely unimpressed. "You've got lines to learn."

"They only make sense if you know the context that the lyrics provide. That's what makes it a musical and not a karaoke event."

"Well," she purses her lips and looks him up and down. "I suggest you use the time to practice dancing. I've seen you, Hummel, on that stage, and for a gay man, you ain't light on those twinkle toes."

He bites back the sharp retort. He and Roz have similar snarky humor and he knows that she's just goading him into a fight, His issue isn't with her, and he's long learned to control his temper and direct his wrath towards those who deserve it. "It's been two weeks," he snaps instead, "two weeks of being told daily that the songs were almost ready and to just be patient a little longer."

"And yet, here you are, at my door, just to hear again, that the songs are almost ready and just be patient." She smirks.

"We don't operate on LA time here. Broadway is a professional environment with deadlines."

"I'll be sure to let Mr. Durphy know your opinions on how he should be running his show." Roz gives him an unimpressed look before firmly turning back to her phone, tapping a message with her manicured nails.

Kurt grunts in frustration. Roz blithely ignores him. He turns, seething, and stalks down the hallway. Reasons for staying with this production were becoming less inviting with each passing day. He pulls out his phone to send an enraged text to his friends. Suddenly, he slams into a compact body, his chin smackly firmly with a head, sending his phone to the ground, along with a flurry of papers.

"Sorry! I wasn't watching." Kurt says, automatically reaching out to stabilize the obstacle. He can't help smiling a little more authentically when he sees that his collider is the cute darkhaired musician, Blaine. They've chatted briefly at lunch, and Blaine always has a bright smile that radiates kindness and old-fashioned charm, endearing him to all of the cast and crew. Kurt hasn't been an exception.

"Pardon me. I'm so sorry." Blaine says with concern. "Are you alright? We hit pretty hard."

"You mean, I hit you hard. I'm fine." Kurt says, more breathlessly than he had intended. All of these years, and cute boys were still his weakness. He shakes his head. "Really, I'm fine. I should be asking about that head of yours. My dad says I'm so stubborn that my strong chin is made of steel."

Blaine huffs a laugh. "I've never heard that saying before."

"It's a Burt Hummel original."

"Burt's your father?"

"I would have thought that Wikipedia would have that info."

Blaine's face falls. "I, uh, I'm not that kind of fan. I hope you know that."

"Relax," Kurt squeezes his arm reassuringly—his surprisingly well sculptured arm. "It's common knowledge, really, what with him being a congressman and all."

"Good, good. I hope I wasn't giving off stalker vibes."

"Not you. I've already got one of those." At Blaine's raised eyebrow, he leans in and confides in a whisper. "Chandler? Do you know him? He works on sets."

"I think I met him at lunch, maybe."

"He's been my 'number one' fan for years and is always at every stage door. It's sweet, but um—"

"Verging on creepy?" Blaine fills in.

"Yes. I'm sure he's harmless—"

"But nobody wants to find out that they've attracted a John Hinckley."

"Exactly!" Kurt grins at him.

Blaine bends down to pick up the papers that he dropped and Kurt curses himself at his lack of manners and stoops down to pick some up as well.

"Oh, you don't have to," Blaine protests.

"It's not a big deal. I definitely wasn't watching where I was going. I mean, running into you is a delight, I just hadn't intended on it being literal." He winks at Blaine, as he shifts the papers—sheet music from his glance—into a tidier pile. "It's probably all out of order now."

"It's no big deal."

"Wait." Kurt looks closer. "Is this the new music?"

"Oh no." Blaine stammers, his cheeks flushing, "no, I was just going to ask Roz if she's heard of an update."

"I'll save you that visit. No. A very definitive no. With no answer whatsoever when it will be available."

"That's disappointing. But I'm sure they are working hard on it."

Kurt stares in suspicion. Nobody has that kind of guileless optimism. "I'm sure. But this," he waves the sheet music, "What is it? It's not what the chorus has been rehearsing."

"No, I, it's just some scribbles that I put down. I read through the full script last weekend and I just thought that I'd, um, I'd put some of it to music. Since we were still waiting and all."

"You compose, too?" Kurt scans through the top sheet.

Blaine shakes his head. "Only if you consider limericks poetry. I dabble. I took some composition courses with my graduate degree and I like to play around with it now and then."

"Did you write this for me? For my character?" It's in his voice range, he notices.

Blaine scratches the back of his neck. "That first part? Where Brian first brings up surrogacy? I know it's not how it's written, but it seemed like the perfect place for a song. Brian has so many desires and fears about being a father that he's hiding from David, you know, and what better way to express them than in a solo?"

Kurt reads through, hearing the melody in his head. "Even my atrocious sight-reading can tell that this is much better than a limerick. It's excellent."

Blaine flushes red down his neck at Kurt's praise. "I… you're too kind."

"I'm really not." Kurt hands the sheets of paper back. "Are you planning on showing this to Ryan?"

All of the blood drains from Blaine's face. "No! Oh god no, this is just idle doodling. He didn't hire a nobody like me to have the audacity of asking him to add his music."

Kurt frowns. "You're not a nobody."

"I am. Mediocre composers aren't even worth a dime and that's all I am at best. That's okay. He's got a team of talented people who will write beautiful songs and I will help direct those songs because it's my job and I am good at that."

Kurt reluctantly backs off. "It's your music. But seriously, Blaine, you should look into getting an agent. And write more. You're clearly gifted."

"I'll, I'll do that. Thanks."

"Any time." He smiles and tilts his head in contemplation. "Actually, what would you think—"

"Kurt Hummel, why is your ass not on my stage? You're ten minutes late and nobody's late on Unique's stage.

Kurt turns guiltily to their stage director. Unique's hands are on her hips and although she is several inches shorter, she still makes Kurt feel like she is staring him down.

"I was just asking Roz—"

"You weren't just doing nothing. Unique will tell you when the music is ready and when we're ready to work on your singing. But right now, Unique needs you to walk that pasty white ass back to that stage and finally learn how to open that mouth and fucking emote."

"I emote just fine." He hates that he sounds petulant.

She sniffs. "I'm the judge of that. The world outside may think you're hot stuff but, in here, you belong to me and right now, you're wasting my time. Now scooch."

Kurt throws Blaine an apologetic look. Blaine paints on a look of such wide-eyed innocence that Kurt has to hide his chuckle in a cough. "I'll see you later, Blaine."

"Much later and maybe from inside your coffin if you keep dawdling." Unique pushes between his shoulders. "Boys, I swear."