''Here we are, monsieur Hummel.'' The driver said in a thick French accent when he opened Kurt's door. Once he stepped out of the car, he was speechless. He knew how the Casablanca's hotels were beautiful, but this was insane! The hotel was enormous and it was all painted in a light yellowish color and all the windows were a bright white color that sparkled in the sun. It was stunning. In front of two large wooden doors with the name The Casablanca's written proudly in silver letters above those doors, stood two men with polite smile and a clean uniform. There were luxury cars, such as a beautiful white Mercedes-Benzes, a stunning red Ferrari, and a black jaguar.
''Dad would get a heart attack if he ever sees those cars.'' He whispered. The people who came out of the cars were all in fine attire with the most expensive jewelleries and watches.
Taking a deep breath, he walked toward the hotel with an air of superiority even though he was nervous as hell. One of the doormen greeted him and opened the door, while the other one took the suitcases and fallowed him silently. Kurt thanked the doormen with a small smile and went inside.
The inside of the hotel was as beautiful as the outside. Everything was shiny and in place. The floor was in white marble, the furniture, the counters and the staircases were in a dark wooden brown color and the walls were a rich, yet light yellow color, like the outside, and white. The ceiling, from several meters above Kurt's head, had a gigantic painting that covered most of the ceiling and matched the colors of the walls. It was several horses running through the wind with green, and yellow pastures. The details were breathtaking and a chandelier was hanging on the ceiling.
''Welcome to the Casablanca's.'' A blonde girl greeted him from behind the counter. Kurt stopped looking at the ceiling and looked at her, trying to look normal and not extremely excited to be in a place like that.
''Hi. I have a reservation in the name of Kurt Hummel.''
The girl looked at her computer and smiled at him and reached behind her to retrieve a key.
''The king room, am I right?''
Kurt gave her his charming smile. ''That's right. The… biggest room of the hotel, right?''
''That's right, sir. There's a few king rooms in this hotel. The one you have face the mountains and the forest, sir. A beautiful view, if I may give my opinion. And you are staying for…''
She looked down to her computer, but Kurt responded immediately.
''For a couple weeks. Maybe months. I don't have a date, but I'll give you the money in due time.'' He flashed him his golden card to make sure she knew he wasn't blushing and he indeed intent to pay.
The blonde girl's eyes were wide, but she smiled. She looked him up and down subtly and she wondered why a young man, alone, could do in a hotel like this and living here for that long? She shrugged, thinking that he was probably a son of a rich entrepreneur and let it go.
When he arrived to his room, his suitcases were already neatly in place at the end of his gorgeous bed. The room itself was bigger than his entire apartment in New York and the bed sheets were a golden color and the walls were a light beige color and the carpet on the floor was a creamy white, just like the drapes.
He jumped unto his bed, enjoying this moment of luxury. He was in peace for once.
-X-
''Blaine, wake up. Blaine… BLAINE!'' Christian yelled at his little brother.
''Mmm…'' The younger man responded groggily, slapping Christian's hand rather forcefully. ''Get the fuck out of here, Christian,'' he replied sleepily and annoyingly.
''Fine, suit yourself!'' Christian didn't even try to wake his brother once again. When he stepped in his Blaine's room, it smells weed, beers and sex. Lots of sex.
A few moments later, Blaine cracked an eye open, then the other. He got a headache from last night, but he could remember it rather… perfectly. He remembered going to that fancy club in town and bringing to the hotel two hot guys. He touched his aching member and groaned. Well, maybe it was too early, but last night wasn't enough. He glanced at the condoms on the floor and at the clock.
''Fuck!'' He took a cold shower to calm his boner, and then got dressed rather quickly. He went with Armani today and the tight black V-neck signed Armani and the Levi's jeans gave him a look to die for.
He passed his hand in his gelled hair to fix it while he walked through the gigantic hotel. His parents got the penthouse at the last floor and as the owners of the Casablanca's hotels, when they went to one; they liked to have their little privacy. Each of their children, now that they are all grown up, had their own chambers in the hotels. And Blaine, being the lucky bastard that he was, got his chambers really, really far from the penthouse.
When he knocked repeatedly on the large door, an old man opened the door.
''Everyone is waiting…'' Blaine huffed and pushed the man aside. The butler didn't look surprise, but rather annoyed. He rubbed his eyes and put on a force smile.
''Blaine, what a joy to see you this morning'' His mother said with a gentle smile, but there was fire in her hazel eyes.
''Hi everyone.'' He said, taking a seat. The table was outside on a large outdoor space and the view from the surrounded wooden area was breathtaking.
His three brothers snickered behind their coffees and he glared at them to stop. His headache didn't give him the patience he usually had. He just wanted to sleep it off. Charles Anderson was behind his journal, so it was very hard to see him properly. The table was silent. When Blaine tried to eat some scrambled eggs, Charles lowered his journal and gave his youngest son a hard look and if looks could kill, he would be dead.
''Blaine,'' he said in a low voice. ''Care to explain me this?'' He said, showing his son the magazine he hides behind his journal. It was a magazine from Switzerland called ''J.e. Magazine.'' Blaine snorted like it was obvious. ''It's called having a good time. You should try it once in a while. It's great.''
''I told you many times I don't care about you being gay. But we have a reputation, here. So I don't want to see my son whoring himself in front of everyone. If you want to sleep with everybody, fine. But at least, make it private!'' He yelled and everyone around the table jumped.
''It was private.'' He said with a sweet smile. ''Last night, in my bedroom with the two hottest guys I have ever met. If you want to watch it, I got it recorded.''
Charles Anderson was red in the face and his wife, Maggie, just shook his head and rolled his eyes, murmuring things to herself and buttering a toast delicately.
''And this picture? Well, it was in the heat of the moment.'' The cover of the magazine showed Blaine kissing one of the two guys he brings home and it was written in big white letter ''The youngest Anderson, not fallowing in his brothers' paths?''
''As an Anderson, you have to show respect. How will I explain that to my friends tonight?'' Charles asked, all anger gone.
''I expect to see you tonight. Don't be late.'' Charles said and he stood up, preparing himself to go golfing with his friends that are in the hotel at the same time as him. Blaine rolled his eyes and didn't say anything. Charles was always like that. It wasn't the first time that Blaine was showed in magazines through the world. And he wasn't the only Anderson, either. His brothers and sister were all a part of the gossips as well. Just… Blaine was more in the gossips you don't really want to hear, then the glorious gossips, such as Patrick Anderson's engagement with a wonderful girl. People were ecstatic to the news that an Anderson finally get married.
He changed from cocky for making his father lose his temper that fast to one of guilt when he looked at his mother. Her beautiful face that was so much like his, was ravaged by sadness. He might be a mean and disgraceful child, but he always loved his mother and seeing her like that made his heart ache.
''I'm sorry you had to hear it, mom.'' He said in a lovely and serious voice.
''Yes, well. Nothing I didn't hear before, Blaine.'' She stood up and went to her plants in a corner of the terrace. She always loved flowers and her favorites were lilies. Blaine was behind her and he placed a hand on her frail shoulder and leaned to kiss her soft cheek.
''I love you, mom. I'm sorry.'' He said, giving his mother a hug from behind. The anger and worry disappeared from her face and melted to the hug.
''It's fine, my sweet boy. Now, don't be late for tonight, okay? We have dinner as a family.'' She said cheerfully, trying to forget the encounter this family had a few minutes earlier.
Blaine nodded and she walked in the penthouse, leaving his children alone.
''You are such a mommy boy. ''Daniel, the second oldest son, said.
''Shut up, Dan.'' He said, massaging his temples.
''It's true, Blaine. She refuses to see you being a slut and doesn't want to acknowledge your bad behavior.'' His big sister said from her seat while she looked into her mirror for any flaw she might have.
''You are just a jealous little brat, Beatrice.'' Blaine said with gritted teeth.
''Whatever,'' She huffed, gathering her make-up and leaving the penthouse. Daniel laughed, giving Blaine a cigarette. Blaine was sitting on the edge of the terrace, looking at the people who looked so small from there and inhaled the smoke.
''Ignore the sister, B. She's just a jealous, manipulative bitch.'' Blaine nodded. It was true, Beatrice Ann Anderson wasn't someone you wanted to mess with and the fact that she grew up like his brothers in luxury didn't help and she couldn't take 'no' for an answer. As a little girl, she just got worse because she wasn't the baby anymore as her little brother, Blaine, came into this world.
''So, last night…'' Christian began suggestively. Blaine sat on the edge of the terrace, looking over the breathtaking view and smirked.
''It was the best sex I had in a long time, I got to tell ya.''
''Do tell,'' said his oldest brother, Patrick, who sat lazily in his chair, drinking what might be orange juice, but Blaine suspected they was other substances in it as well.
''I had a threesome, but man, there were hot.'' Blaine shrugged, good-naturally.
''And…'' prompted Patrick to make his little brother to say some details of last time.
''You just have to live next door if you want to hear anything,'' he said, laughing of the look of pure sexual frustrations on his brother.
''Oh, men. Not fair!''
''Not my fault if your little soon to be wife isn't there, Pat.'' Patrick shook his head but his straight, short hair, stayed in place. He was a very, very good-looking man, just like the rest of the hairs of Charles and Maggie Anderson. But unlike Blaine, his three brothers and sister looked just like their father, with their straight hair, their brown and dark eyes. Blaine got the dark hair of his siblings as well, but his hair was curly like his mom and his eyes were lighter with more of a honey-yellowish color. His brothers used to tease him when he was younger, saying that because he was the youngest, they run off of the inheritance, so he was stock with what was left.
''Anyways, it's not like I'm not getting laid because she's not here.'' Blaine scoffed and shook his head. He knew, like all of his siblings, that Patrick Anderson cheated on his fiancée. Their parents, and more importantly, the press, didn't know it.
''When people are saying that I'm the bad influence in this damn family.'' Blaine murmured as he approached his brother Christian and Patrick stood up and went to see his brother, putting an arm loosely around his broad shoulders.
''That's your problem, brother. You are only the bad guy, because you flaunt it for anyone to see. Do it my way, B,'' Patrick said with a smirked. ''I fucked some pretty blonde girl, two nights ago. And does everyone know? Course not! Because I keep it a secret, away from the press. '' Blaine nodded, looking bored.
''Well, I don't care what people are saying about me. Anyways, if you want me today, I'll be at the pools or at the town,'' he said, inhaling the smoke. He walked away from his brothers, putting his sunglasses on. Danny waved lazily at him as he was sunbathing on the chair (still fully clothed) and Christian listened to Patrick's new one night-stand.
-X-
''This is it,'' Kurt said, breathlessly. His blue eyes were skipping everywhere, making sure to see everything. He was wearing something very classy, but not too flashy. He always liked to wear fashionable clothes, even though he couldn't afford anything too pricy once he arrived in New York, but Carole (being the generous women that she was) gave him (a lot) of money on last Christmas, saying ''You're going in New York next year. I know being a student is tough, but I want my step-son to look good in the Big Apple.'' And, being the good boy he was, he wanted the money to be for the future, but Carole didn't want to hear it. ''I bought a new car for Finn to show him how proud I was with him when he graduated school, now, it's your turn.'' So the first day in New York, he went shopping on the fifth avenue. And it was a dream comes true.
It was diner time at Casablanca's. When he entered the restaurant of the hotel, it was like a ball room. The walls were a sparkling white with big paintings with noble men on them or with beautiful women wearing long dresses or simply beautiful pastures of Switzerland. It was like being in a 1700-1800's movie, really. The tables were tastefully decorated. They were a pearly white, like the walls, but the napkins were a deep red and red roses were in the center of each table as decoration. They were a big chandelier several feet above Kurt's head and it just showed how big the Casablanca's truly was. Like a church, Kurt thought, was a huge building only to show how god was superior and bigger than the common mortal.
As Kurt walked around people, he took the time to look at the tuxedos and dresses. Armani, Gucci, Jimmy Choo for the shoes and it went on and on. He was almost drooling at the sight of all those glamorous and beautiful people around him, just like some fat American craving for a Bigmac.
He sat at a seclude table all by himself. He didn't come with anyone and he only came in Europe this morning. Some people were standing, chatting happily with some champagne and going to a table to another to greet someone and the other people talked around a table with just so much food you could feed all of Africa with that. He stood out like a sore thumb, no doubt about it.
A man came to his table, looking down at him. He smiled slightly, and he spoke in his nasally voice of his with a thick French or German accent; he wasn't sure.
''Welcome to the Casablanca's restaurant. Our special for today is a classic French dish, un boeuf bourguignon. It's delicious. We also have our blanquette de veau with a beautiful sauce béchamel. Then, we have le canard à l'orange wich is delicious with our white wine. For the appetizers, '' he gave Kurt a big menu and opened it to the page he wanted. ''We have soupe à l'oignon wich is delectable with some croutons, then la soupe de cerise.'' Kurt looked at him, smiling and replied fluently in French.
''Merci beaucoup.'' The man nodded. He looked at the menu, overwhelmed. This was it. He was in the restaurant where Santana Lopez worked, his idol. He couldn't be happier.
''This all looked delicious. I have a question, though. Are these dishes going to be there tomorrow? Because I want to taste to every meal Santana Lopez has prepared,'' he said, excitedly. The man looked at him, affronted.
''Miss Lopez doesn't do the same dish twice. Tomorrow, we will have a different menu,'' he said like it was obvious. Ah, that French arrogance!
''Oh… okay, then! I'll take everything on the menu.''
The man's eyes were wide and he looked at Kurt like he was crazy.
''I'm sorry, sir?''
''You heard me. Everything. And write everything on my bill too, money never was my problem.'' He gave a 50 in the palm of the man's hand subtly like he saw on multiple occasions in movies. He always wanted to do that. The man nodded slowly and took the menu.
-X-
''Is it ready, yet? Joey, where's the garlic potatoes? Leslie, I told you to cut the carrots like that, not like this! People, people, look out! Hot, hot, hot!'' Santana Lopez said while she retrieved a chicken from the oven. People were bustling around, but the only chef here was Santana.
And she was a fierce, sharp-tongued bitch. But, she knew what she was doing in a kitchen.
''Move it, fat boy!'' she yelled at a rather large man who was cutting onions. ''There are enough onions as it is no need to make more. You don't cook for yourself, here. ''
''Yes, Chef Lopez,'' he said without looking at her but used by her hard comments.
''People are waiting for the app. I need five soupes à l'onions in two minutes. If it's not ready, I'll fire the retard that had to do it tonight!''
A man entered the kitchen rather graciously and went straight to Santana who was still yelling both in English and Spanish.
''What is it?'' she demanded in her harsh voice of hers when she spotted him.
''A young man asked for everything you have on the menu, Miss Lopez. And he is alone.'' He said as an afterthought.
Santana put her hands on her hips and looked at the man, silent. Then, she said, ''which table?''
''Table 33, near the windows.''
Santana smirked. ''I want to talk to him.'' She then turned to her staff that looked at the other chefs. She never, ever left the kitchen. ''After all, someone ordered my entire menu. The least I can do is to chat with him. And you?'' she said, pointing the people looking at her. ''Don't burn my kitchen.''
-X-
The Andersons were sitting at a table with some of their friends, meaning businessmen, lawyers, owners of big companies and the like. Blaine never liked them and if the dirty looks he was giving was any indication, then it was likewise. Charles was nervous, it was comprehensible. Not only a week and Blaine was already on a scandal.
''So, tell me Beatrice, you must be thrill to begin modeling,'' said Annie, one of the wife of a businessman, smiling sweetly at the only girl in the Anderson siblings. She smiled back and Blaine wanted to gag so badly. Beatrice was sitting with all the grace that a girl of her caliber could possess and all the charm that an Anderson could give.
''Yes, I can't wait. It's a big show that we have here. Only the best designers will be there. It could be my big break and then I can go to New York and focus on my career there.''
''Oh, wow! '' Annie said.''I'm sure you are going to do just fine.'' The guests around the table all nodded their approval and even some were racking Beatrice's body when their wives weren't looking.
''Oh, she will!'' Maggie, Beatrice's mother, said. ''She's a very attractive young lady. She'll do great in the fashion industry.''
''And you,'' Mark, one of the lawyer around the table, said to Patrick. ''When's the wedding?''
''It's soon. In the summer.'' Patrick replied as he took a sip from his red wine and giving Mark, one of their father's oldest friends, a charming smile. Charms in the Anderson family wasn't lacking and it was, by far, the best tool to manipulate someone.
''Mm!'' Mark said, gulping his wine with a disgusting sound that no one seemed to notice, but Blaine did. ''A summer wedding! It's so great. How's Lucy? Isn't she here?'' he asked.
Blaine and the other brothers fought their urge to laugh. Patrick hides his smile as well.
''No, Mark. She's not. Her grandmother is sick, so she takes care of her. But she'll be there around July. We're having the wedding at this very hotel in August.''
''Yes, and we are so proud of him.'' Charles said, patting his son on the shoulder.
''And you… Blaine, nothing you'd like to share?'' The platinum-haired woman with a tan that really didn't do well with her hair and her age with boobs as large as watermelon said, eyeing the youngest Anderson with disdain across the table.
''Not really, no.'' he said, drinking his wine with big gulps. The table were silent and Charles prayed for his son to be polite. Just this one night, just this one night. Maggie was about to say something, but Blaine beat s her. ''Oh! Maybe one thing.'' He put his glass on the table with a loud noise and began to speak. ''You see, Barbara, something is bothering me. Everybody here is blind. We drink wine'' he poured wine in his glass. ''We dance, we laugh and we eat together like the old friends that we are. But the thing is, we are all blind.'' He paused for a moment and Charles was red –he was ready to jump on the table and strangled him with his bare hands, but Maggie put her hand firmly on his forehand, but she shoots him a glare. The other people around the table was waiting to see what he was getting at. ''You first, Barbara. Maybe it's the yellowish white coloring that burned almost all of your hair that made you go blind –because seriously, that color can fucking glow in the dark,'' he snored. ''but you're too focus on what happens to the next person that you don't even see what's under you ugly nose.'' He concluded, rolling his eyes.
''Blaine Anderson!'' cried his father, scandalized. Blaine ignored him and looked across the table where the blonde's husband sat and winked at him.
''It was good last week, wasn't it? You can bend for me aaaanytime you want.'' He said in a coy voice. ''I'm more into older men.'' He shrugged good-naturally and continued eating his appetizer like what he just said didn't just put the table into an awkward mood or that he likely just ruined a marriage.
Charles saw red, Maggie gaped and everything was just chaos. The blonde woman was flabbergasted. Her husband tried to reassure her but she was ready to get up and leave in a dramatic matter, but the entire restaurant went silent.
The people stopped chatting and the big doors of the kitchen flew open.
''Is it Chef Lopez?'' a man asked sitting near Charles. ''What is she doing here?''
Because it was known that Santana Lopez stayed in her kitchen, doing her things. And that's why she was legendary. The hotel hired her while she was doing her show and it just boosted the hotel in popularity having her as the chef.
''Well, she comes to wish us a great stay at the hotel, of course,'' Charles said, still looking at the chef. Santana winked at Blaine who shook his head fondly, but Charles frowned at his son. It wasn't a secret that Charles took Santana under her wing and had a soft spot for her. It was one-sided, though.
He got more insulted that she didn't just acknowledge Blaine and not him, but she made a beeline to a couple of tables over to see a young boy sitting alone. She totally ignored him. She had the grace of a goddess; it was no secret. She was truly beautiful. Her tan skin matched her long black hair and her body, even in her uniform, could make girls jealous and the boys drooling. Her complexion showed that she wasn't from Western Europe and that exotism made her look more mysterious.
Blaine, like everyone else, followed her until he noticed the boy sitting there. He arched en eyebrow curiously. He was the cutest boy ever. With his hazel eyes, he raked his body up and down and bites his bottom lip. He was tall, but not too much. His skin was pale and flawless and Blaine was sure he could be a blushing mess under him. His hair was perfectly coiffed and his eyes, even from afar; he could already tell they were a sparkling blue color. He wanted him. Badly.
He looked at his brothers while the other guests were talking again like they were released from a spell that only Santana Lopez could cast upon a bunch of horny males trapped in a useless marriage for far too long and the music continued. Patrick winked at him and Christian raised his glass subtly. Daniel smirked and because he was closer to Blaine, tapped him on the shoulder. Blaine smiled victoriously. They all knew what this little interaction meant. The game could begin.