A/N: I have changed the rating. My profanities have got the better of me...:L
Blaine stood motionless in the corridor. Still to shocked to move.
Kurt had just blown up on him. Completely exploded. And he had no idea why.
Mellissa had stepped forward and was now rubbing comforting circles on his back as she cradled his head in the crook of her neck.
Blaine's breathing was stammered and he was really struggling not to cry. His eyes were stinging and he was blinking madly to keep the tears at bay.
'Ssssh, there there Blaine. There There.' Mel cooed. He wasn't a baby, he didn't need this, but it was strangely comforting none the less.
Blaine had never been exposed to Kurt's diva side before. Most of the crew, including Mellissa had had to face his wrath at some point, usually over nonsensical matters such as set muck ups or clothing switched but they would blow over within an hour.
This however, this was different.
Firstly, it was Blaine's first time seeing bitch Kurt. And he had seen by far the worst of it. Poor kid, that was by far the biggest freak out Mel had seen in all her time working with the designer, and poor Blaine had been forced to bear the blunt of it.
Secondly, this matter was big. Like really big.
Kurt had issues with the paparazzi, what celebrity didn't, but his were far more deep routed. And Blaine didn't know. All he'd seen was a torn photo of the two of them staring up at him from the office floor.
He had no idea of the significance this held to Kurt, or how heart breaking it was for him, that this happened again.
'Blaine.' She whispered, pulling him back from the door, ever so slowly. 'I think we need to talk.'
xXx
'EUGH' Kurt screamed as he got out of the building, stomping his feet up and down on the sodden streets.
'That fucking bastard.' Kurt felt even more tears well up in his eyes. He quickly fished around in his bag, hunting for a pair of sunglasses to hide his blood shot eyes, instead he just found the pair of wayfarers Blaine had bought him, rather than his Gucci Aviators.
God damn it.
Kurt had half a mind to hurl them across the street into the oncoming traffic, and let them get smashed up into millions of miniscule pieces, but instead he just shoved them back into the deep depths of his bag, and settled for a slanted fedora that should hide the top half of his face.
He stumbled down the streets, not knowing what to do.
How could he have been so naive, of course Blaine hadn't befriended him because he was nice, it was the publicity and fame. That was the only reason anyone wanted to talk to him ever.
At least he had his colleagues who spoke to him, but they were paid to. And then of course Mercedes, Finn and Rachel, the only members of Glee who really kept in touch.
But Mercedes was now of in some other state, gallivanting around with her boyfriend on a road trip, and Finn and Rachel where happily married, so why would any of them want to talk to him when they had such loving others in their lives.
He was stuck. The one male person who he felt was actually his friend in this entire god damn city, turns out to be another gold digging suck up. It happened A-freaking-gain!
Kurt sloshed his feet through the watery streets, not paying any attention to where he was going, just knowing that he had to et as far away from that place...that man, as possible.
That was when...
SLAM. 'Shit, Ow, God I'm so sor- Kurt?'
Kurt was snapped from his day dreams when he collided with another person hurrying down the street, as he looked up, his eyes met the deep brown ones belonging to a certain barrissta.
'Kurt what are you doing here?' Steph asked, shaking down her clothes, as Kurt stared blankly into the distance. 'Kurt? I was just on my way to your office'
'Huh, oh right.' He shook his head slightly, trying to work out how to avoid talking to Blaine's best friend, knowing that this was sure to turn awkward any minute now-
'Blaine just texted me'
Oh, so awkward much more quickly than expected. 'Oh, that's err...'
'What's this I hear about you two fighting?' You better not have done anything to my B-
Ok, so, in the month Kurt had known Steph, she had quickly turned from adoring fan, into the most mother hen-like person you could imagine. The two men went and got coffee in the Three Wishes at least three times a week, it had quickly become there new favourite get away, and Steph was always there. She knew their orders by heart now and just brought them out to their table once the men arrived. She would then proceed to question and interrogate them on their days. Which both men were happy to comply with. She wasn't exactly a menacing person, but her protective streak was sure to get the better of her if she thought the boys weren't telling her something. She would chat with them a little before returning to work and leaving the boys to have a little more 'private' conversation.
(She was still hoping they would fall madly in love and get married and have hundreds of gaybies then she could be a bridesmaid and then they would live happily ever after forever and ever)
'Oh...wait.' she said, halting her previous train of speech. 'HE'S done something hasn't he?' she finished, very slowly.
Kurt looked away, but gave a shy nod. The tears were beginning to pool in his eyes again, and there was no hiding it from someone this close.
'Oh Hunny bun, what's wrong?' She said, quickly stepping forward and engulfing Kurt in a warm embrace, slowly stroking his back as he began to cry into her shoulder.
'Ssssh it's ok, it's ok.' She soothed, as Kurt's sniffles increased. 'Do you wanna talk about it?'
Kurt raised his head slightly and nodded again.
'Aww come on Kurt, I'll get you a coffee, and we can talk.' She stepped back from the weeping man, but instead linked her arm with his, and lead him back down the street she had just come up.
Surreptitiously dropping Blaine a text with her free hand.
'Just met Kurt on the street, he's in a state. You have A HELL of a lot of explaining to do mister! I'm going to try and get him to talk, you stay put, I will deal with you later! – Steph xxx'
xXx
Unsurprisingly, Kurt found himself back in the Three Wishes not 10 minutes later, with a tall cup of steaming coffee in his hand, and an anxious barista sitting directly opposite him in the abandoned room. (Steph may or may not have shooed all the other occupants away and closed the shop when she arrived, but ssshh)
Kurt took a long sip of the drink, humming in pleasure as the warm liquid hit his tongue. He then sighed as he set his cup down on the table in front of him.
Steph was still watching him intently, but not pushing him to talk.
Kurt blinked a couple of times, before relinquishing his silence and speaking up.
'I think we can talk now.'
xXx
College. NYU fashion, textiles and design course.
This was where Kurt was studying. Here. In freaking New York, the place he'd been dreaming of for literally ever. Or at least since he'd seen Enchanted.
And now he was starting his second year. And it was still equally amazing. Everyone seemed so accepting and friendly here, he received compliments not slurs and hi fives not locker shoves,(though to be fair, all the good things were from his 6 only friends but that wasn't the point)
It was pretty much bliss.
He was creating more elaborate and beautiful concepts than ever before. He received an internship at Vivienne Westwood and was offered a place with Miu Miu as well. His life could not get any better.
Then Adam Outhwaite arrived.
He was a transfer student coming over from Miami. All anyone knew about him was that he was gorgeous, single and straight as a rainbow. His hair was blonde and kept in a perfect surf style. He wore designer clothes that fitted him perfectly and showed off his impressive physique, he always wore Dior Aftershave and his presence was felt by all students. He oozed sex appeal, and boy did people feel it.
Which meant of course, that Kurt immediately fell for him,
Hard,
But Adam wasn't there to catch him. He just laughed as Kurt swooned over his every move. Doting on every word that spilled from the boys stuck up mouth. Even making a fool of himself, asking Adam out in the corridor one day.
Kurt was shot down, with such a titanic force it felt as if he'd been jumped on by 20 heavily built football players wearing lead boots. Adam laughed!
He laughed and laughed and laughed at Kurt as the smaller boy turned red in the face and fled back down the halls, followed by the echoed taunts of Adam and his cronies.
Kurt was distraught. He spent over 2 hours crying down the phone to both Finn and Mercedes, even Rachel received a sobbing call from him one evening. None of them knew what to say.
Kurt had never been lucky in love. Always chasing after straight guys or gay guys that never wanted him. He was always told to get back up, and try again, but this time he just felt really down and he was staying there.
That was when Rachel rang him back. She gave him her typical, no men, no troubles line, essentially telling him that he didn't need anyone to make him happy, and that all his problems were because of the ridiculous men in his feeble excuse for a life.
('MENtal pain, MENtal anxiety, MENstrual cramps, MENopause... all our problems start with men Kurt. We ... and by we I mean you...need them out'
'Rachel, I AM a man,... and since when do I menstruate?'
'That is NOT the point...')
Apart from her rather insulting lines, Kurt felt she had a point. Maybe if he let Adam go, then he could really focus on his career and find some other sexy surfer to date, (yeah, because there were sooo many of those chilling around his college.)
Kurt tried. He really truly did. He avoided being in the same room as Adam for at least three months, making up random excuses and apparently needing the bathroom a lot more than would be though humanly possible. But it didn't stop.
Kurt was determined to block all thought of the gorgeous man from his mind. Giving himself a mental slap for every image or note of him that ever appeared to haunt his brain.
(Yeah, if those were physical slaps, he'd have been black and blue by then)
He didn't go after anyone else, he wasn't after a mental rebound or just some guy to take his mind of things. He was going it solo. And he would become a star, and all those people would fawn over him as he had once done for them.
xXx
After the forth month into the new school year, things began to look up. His internship at Vivienne Westwood finally yielded fruit as one of Kurt's designs was spotted by the executive manager, Mr Crawford, as he did his weekly patrol of the interns desks.
Kurt found his sketch of a flowing red hoop dress pinned up to the notice board outside Crawford's office one morning with a scrawled post it note stuck to the hemline.
'See Me! Office, 9.30 sharp!'
Kurt had no idea what to do. At first he was terrified that he had done something wrong, that his boss was going to tell him off for leaving his work scattered around, or if he was going to get fired for using company equipment to perfect the image.
As he hurried to Crawford's office his heart was ablaze. Emotions over flowing as he tried to come to terms with the many reasons he could have been summoned.
He didn't expect to find his boss, sitting behind his desk, grinning ear to ear, clasping an IPad in his hand, with Kurt's design emblazoned on the screen.
As he was called further into the room, he parked himself in a large black swivel chair and wheeled himself closer, until his nose was virtually flat against the screen.
There, scrawled in tiny letters just beneath the image, was 'Good Job, He'll be BIG~ VW'
Kurt swore his heart stopped beating.
Crawford's face split into an even bigger smile if that was at all possible. He thrust the screen further into Kurt's dumb struck face.
'See that Hummel. See that! You, have The Vivienne Westwood's blessing.'
'I-I..' Kurt stuttered, his face still frozen in 'jaw-half-way-to-the-floor-so-wide-an-elephant-could-sleep-in-my-mouth' stage.
'You, young man, have got it set now. This-' He said, waving the tablet in front of Kurt's face. '-is gonna make you a star.'
'But h-' he started, face still gaping mindlessly.
'I found this.' He pointed back at the screen with his index finger, slowly zooming in on the intricate details. 'Whilst I was checking out the desks. I emailed it to head office, just for the sake of it. We all do it sometimes, just to see. And then two days later I get this sent to me.'
He shook the IPad viciously.
'THIS! IS! INCREDIBLE!'
xXx
A good hour and a half was spent in that office. Talking over how exactly Vivienne Westwood acquired said picture, and whether or not Kurt could draw more on demand, also whether or not he could actually make them into actual pieces. Which he could.
Kurt stayed at the office late into the night, sacrificing his next day of classes in order to build his master piece. He had been given free reign over the textiles cupboard and allowed to use pretty much anything he wanted if it meant his design would be complete by morning.
After 13 hours solid working, Kurt finally finished his piece.
It was beautiful. Built for a woman who was at least 5ft 11, but therefore perfect for the cat walk. The hoop skirt was slanted perfectly, giving a gracious curve and elegance to the shape. The intricate stitching and fine details of the tiny satin roses all up the left hand seam was incredible. It was so simple in concept, but looked so awe inspiring and entrancing when you saw it before your very eyes.
Kurt was proud. He snapped several photo's on his IPhone, before promptly falling asleep on the work surface next to a sewing machine.
xXx
He awoke the next morning to the harsh shoving of another intern.
'Hummel...Hummel. Get up you lazy ass.'
'Wha—Mmhmm 's mornin' lemme sleeep'
'No' after a quick slap to the face Kurt jumped to attention, eyes darting around the room in search for the person who administered his pain. His eyes caught a flash of blue as a long coat disappeared out the door. He quickly jumped to his feet and ran after the blue, smoothing down his hair as he ran, not noticing that his masterpiece wasn't in the room anymore.
He followed the other intern back through the corridor and up to Crawford's office.
'He wants to see you.' The man in blue said. 'Said it's urgent, so either your dead, or you're going to be knighted man, whatever it is, good luck.' He gave Kurt a firm pat on the shoulder, before vanishing back down the corridor with a flick of his coat.
Kurt rapped on the door, the noise echoing slightly off the walls.
A deep 'Come in.' Boomed through the wood, Kurt flinched, before opening it.
'Aah Hummel, pleasure to see you again. I have a surprise for you.' He signalled for Kurt to come in, and pointed to the black swivel chair again. Where Kurt sat tentatively.
Suddenly three figures stepped up behind him, causing Kurt to jump, and let out a faint squeal.
He recognised one of them immediately, as the head of NYU's design courses, the second he wasn't sure about, but he had a ID card swinging from his neck around which a $600 tie was hung (Kurt read Vogue, he knew these things), so Kurt guessed he must be pretty important.
The last was a woman. She looked in her late forties early fifties, and she had an air of superiority around her, daring people to mess with it.
'Kurt, meet Julian Larcroft, Helen Bentley and George Neeson.'
The three figures all greeted Kurt with proud exclamations and scarily firm handshakes.
'These Three fine people, have all seen your design Kurt.' Crawford continued.
They nodded as Kurt swallowed deeply, pretty sure his throat was in knots.
'And, we have come up with an idea, that may suit you very well Mr Hummel.' Larcroft, the NYU man piped in.
xXx
'Mr Hummel.' The woman began. 'It has come to our attention that you are not the wealthiest of students.'
Kurt scowled, at the woman's blunt, yet slightly insulting approach, but he nodded none the less.
'After seeing your magnificent piece, it has shown us that you have the potential to be a great designer one day.'
' And we would like to help you achieve said potential.'
Kurt's eyes widened, hoping to God he was thinking what the four others in the room were.
'We have been sponsoring pupils of NYU for nearly 14 years now. Each year 4 students are selected, one from the academic department, one from the arts department, one from music, and another from Sport and each are given funding, to help them through their course'
His jaw dropped. Figuratively of course, but that didn't make it any less remarkable. Where they saying what he thought they were... Yes. Holy freaking Crap they were!
'Every year, these four students are selected, and therefore get a free ride through college.'
'Have you heard of the Football player Lance Darby?' Larcroft asked. 'He was part of the program some years ago, and he is now a quarter back in the NFL'
'Then we have the singer Chase Macclefield, with our help he received a recording contract a year before graduating, and is now making millions as a prominent member of the music industry'
'We would be honoured, if you would take the place of our Art student, on the program'
Kurt nearly screamed, the silent rush of air escaping shrilly from his mouth was probably so high only dogs (and therefore Rachel) could hear it, which he was thankful for.
Were these people really doing this? That would be...amazing. Then Burt and Carole could afford to finally go away on their long awaited honey moon, and then Finn could finish his college education without any worries, and the Hudmels could go on holiday in the summer, and Kurt wouldn't have to worry about his own money AT ALL.
Breath Kurt, Breath. It's no good you dying on them now is it? Then they couldn't fund you or help you become famous, you can hardly have a corpse drawing pictures or standing on a cat walk, that only happens in horror movies...
'We' Crawford stated. 'Have been discussing the finer details with Mr Larcroft, Ms Bentley and Mr Neeson and we have arrived at a conclusion.'
'Should you choose to accept. Three benefactors will sponsor you throughout your time at NYU. All your courses and tutoring will be paid for. Even your accommodation.'
By this point, Kurt's heart was pounding so hard there was sure to be bruising on his chest. His mind was whirring and all his thoughts had turned into one incoherent mess on the floor.
'You would continue to work here at Westwood, which would allow you some money to spend on the side of course' Neeson, the one with the ID said.
'But, after you graduate NYU, should you still pursue a career as a designer, I will personally set you up a trust fund, which will contain enough money to get you started, should you choose to set up your own business.' The woman said. 'My company can help get you started, I have connections in the industry and I'm sure with my help, you will make it BIG someday Mr Hummel. You have the Ladies blessing.'
'Shall I leave you to discuss the finer details?' Crawford asked. The three others conferred before nodding, then thanking Crawford, before ushering him out of the office.
All three remaining scanned Kurt with fascination. He shrunk back in his seat a little, still trying to take in what had been said.
The three older figures took up seats behind Crawford's desk, and spewed out folders from their bags. All covered with brand names and NYU studies.
The woman pursed her lips as she began to explain...
'Right Mr Hummel, or can I call you Kurt...'
TBC...
A/N: So I'm sure you all guessed that was a flash back, Kurt's telling Steph about his past and Mel is outlining the basics to Blaine. So they will all know in the end. This is not the end of the flashback, sorry if you don't like this sort of thing, but it's a kinda important part of the plot line.