The first thing Sebastian does the next day is pick up a disposable cell phone. He realizes that things could go south very quickly if Kurt finds out too much about the plans Sebastian has made for him with Blaine. And he is pretty sure that Blaine will be in touch with Kurt soon with potential song choices for their duet at the wedding. The duet Sebastian is pretty sure that Kurt would never actually want to perform with his ex. Sebastian really doesn't want to have to go through the hassle of smoothing things over with Blaine after an exchange with a confused or even irate Kurt.
Now in his own body, Sebastian does not have access to either Kurt's phone or his voice to fool Blaine. He certainly can't contact Blaine with his own phone, because he and Blaine are in each other's address books. But he has an idea and he hopes the new phone does the trick. He plugs Blaine's number into the phone and pulls up the text message window.
Unknown number: Hey, Blaine. It's me, Kurt. My Dad bought the tickets for the flights we talked about before. I'm so glad I'll have that extra day to practice our duet. Any song choices picked out?
Sebastian plans out a follow-up text to explain the number, but Blaine responds right away.
Blaine: Is this really you, Kurt? Or is it one of your friends trying to play a trick on you? I'm just confused. Whose phone is this?
Unknown number: It's really me. This is going to be my new phone for . I actually am hoping you can help me out by texting me on it this week.
Blaine: Can you talk? I'll call you.
Unknown number: No, just texting for now. I'll explain. They're giving me the phone for work and they already have the phone plan, but I get a week to choose which phone model I want.
Unknown number: I really shouldn't be using it for personal stuff, but Isabelle said I can text with one friend on all the different models and make a few work calls on each one to help me decide. So, don't give anyone else this number, okay.
Blaine: Wow, I'm flattered you would choose me. And it's awesome that you get to test drive the phones. Are any of them particularly fashionable?
Unknown number: It's . They're all fashionable, of course. And don't feel too flattered. I chose you because I knew we needed to make some plans.
Blaine: I'm still flattered. And I'm happy to help you with your phone selection quest by being the other side of your text conversations. Some of this may be easier over the phone, though.
Unknown number: I'll be too busy for most of the week for phone calls. Lots of deadlines before my trip – at school and work. Let me call you from my regular phone when I have a chance, ok? If you want to run something by me before then, use this phone.
Blaine: You got it. Give me a minute to save this number. I'm gonna call it Kurt's secret work phone.
Kurt's secret work phone: Actually, can you call it something more discrete? I really don't want all our other friends trying to call or text me on this number. Since it's supposed to be for work and all.
Blaine: Sure, no problem. How about 007?
007: Perfect.
Blaine: Gotta run to class. I'll text some song ideas to you later today, so be sure to switch your phone before then.
007: Can't wait. :)
Sebastian stares at the phone for a moment in wonder. He really hadn't been sure he could pull that off. He needs more help for his other problem, so he heads over to Seikly Enterprises for a chat with Sid.
Sebastian absentmindedly swirls the watery remnants of his drink, ice cubes clinking softly against the glass. He had relayed all the details of Kurt's Internet research, along with a very edited version of the incident that led Kurt to think he might have multiple personalities. Now he sits slouched back on a chair in Sid's office, waiting for a response.
Sid shifts on his chair and clears his throat. "While it is unusual for a client's activities to drive a host to seek answers so quickly, it certainly has happened before. And we are always fully prepared to remedy these situations to allow our clients to continue their full six months package."
"And how do you plan to do that?" asks Sebastian heatedly. "You can't exactly stop him from going to a psychiatrist."
"No, of course not." Sid leans forward, palms face down on the desk. "In fact, we want him to do just that. We just have to make sure that he goes to the right psychiatrist. A psychiatrist pre-selected and paid handsomely by Seikly Enterprises. One who can help your host accept all aspects of his personality, including the ones that are bothering him right now. A psychiatrist who will report back to us after each session so we can keep tabs on your host's progress."
"That's delightfully wicked," Sebastian says in a tone that makes it clear he is less than impressed. "But finding the psychiatrist isn't really what I'm worried about. How do we get Kurt to choose this one? He pays attention to detail, so I don't think we can let him set up an appointment anywhere and then try to switch up the information on him later. And I can't just go in there and make him pick this guy against his will because he'll remember that later and think his other personality is trying to screw with him."
"Actually, I think your host – Kurt, is it? – made this easy for us. Do you remember the url for the forum where Kurt posted his inquiries about dissociative identity disorder?"
"Yes, I have that," Sebastian replies. "I have his login information, too if you need it."
Sid pulls a notepad and pen from a drawer in the desk and slides them over to Sebastian. "I don't think we need the login, but go ahead and write it down just in case. It would also help if you jot down the gist of his comment. We'll go ahead and create a few different accounts and profiles on the site and respond to his question. One of the responses will mention our doctor as an expert in the field, but that he doesn't know where Kurt is from and the doctor is in Manhattan. We'll set up our doctor with an office and make sure he takes Kurt's insurance. We'll also create some glowing reviews for our doctor on Yelp, WebMD, HealthGrades, and such. Just make sure the next time you're in there that Kurt sees all of this and makes the appointment. Try to let him do it while he's in control, but if you need to take over, he'll have enough evidence that his decision will make sense to him and he likely won't question it."
"You really do think of everything," says Sebastian, genuinely impressed.
Kurt shifts impatiently in his seat, waiting for his acting class to finish. He has been anxious and rushed all day. For some reason he cannot fathom, he had set the alarm for 20 minutes later than usual. He had to skip his entire morning skin care ritual and barely had time to choke down some toast before dashing out the door. Just as he boarded the train, he realized he had never retrieved his phone from the charging dock and now he has been without it all day.
He is clenching the muscles in the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades. He rolls his shoulders back and turns his head slightly from side to side, trying to ease the tension to no avail. He only had to duck into an empty classroom once to avoid running into Adam and the bathroom another time to avoid Rachel. Even so, he feels like he has spent the day avoiding land mines and he is exhausted. In class, he can barely concentrate with all of the humiliating memories of his night with Adam screaming for his constant attention. And he really is worried he might have a serious mental health issue. He really has to make that doctor's appointment.
Kurt is momentarily pulled from his thoughts back into the classroom by a spattering of applause as the student performing a monologue bows and returns to his seat. Kurt joins in for the last two claps, then tries again to concentrate on the professor's critiques of the performance.
He is really looking forward to the break next week. He plans to spend most of it catching up at work. Isabelle has been really nice about it so far, but he still feels he needs to prove that even as a full-time student, he can put in enough hours to be considered valuable at . He daydreams for a moment about walking through the vault, running his hands through the racks of silk jackets and designer gowns.
"Kurt, you're up," barks the professor from right behind his head, causing Kurt to startle violently before scrambling up to escape from his thoughts and into the performance of his monologue.
Kurt leaves NYADA immediately after his last class. He usually would stay to chat with his classmates about the latest Broadway gossip, but he is willing to give that up for today in favor of avoiding Rachel, Adam and Brody.
Kurt is in such a hurry to get to his phone – he has a bit of anxiety about being available by phone at all times in case his Dad has an emergency – that he doesn't even notice the rather large package outside the door to the apartment. He charges over to his phone, barely pausing to drop his shoulder bag to the ground, and gasps when he sees that he has 4 missed calls and 15 text messages.
"Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay," Kurt chants as he dials voicemail and waits for the messages to play.
"Hi Kurt, it's Dad," comes Burt's booming, and thankfully healthy-sounding voice. "I just wanted to let you know that I may have to stay late at the shop Thursday night, so it might be Finn or Carole picking you up from the airport. But I'll be home by the time you guys get back. I can't wait to see you, kiddo! You made my day when you let me buy those tickets. A whole week with my boy at home – it's like an early birthday present. Love you!"
Kurt replays the message twice, sinking down onto the edge of his bed as spikes of fear licked up his spine. "What did I do this time," he asks himself quietly.
He stares at nothing and listens to the other messages. One is from Melinda, a classmate, asking about scheduling time to work on a group project they were assigned in class that day. One is from Isabelle, asking about when she can expect to see the draft blog entry he owes her on fabulous footwear. The last one is from Rachel, pouting that he let her know about his plans to attend the wedding by text and not in person. And of course, asking if he was planning to sing.
He scrolls quickly through the texts – each from a different member of Glee – high school students and alums – each with their own unique way of saying how excited they are to see him.
Hazy bits of memories, frayed at the edges, begin to surface. It's vague, but Kurt does remember looking up flights and a brief call with his dad to ask him to purchase the tickets. He even thinks he might have called Blaine to say he had changed his mind. He isn't sure if this is something he himself did or if it was another symptom of whatever is wrong with him. He hadn't planned on going to the wedding, but not because he didn't want to spend time with his family and have a reunion with all of his high school friends. It was mostly to avoid Blaine and to catch up on work.
"Oh shit! Work!" shouts Kurt as he throws himself across the room to his laptop. He sighs in relief to see the exchange with Isabelle, who seems quite happy to let Kurt have a week of vacation. "Wow, I better finish that blog piece tonight. And make it stellar."
Kurt doesn't know what to think about this new development. Unlike the last time he felt like someone else had taken control of him, he hadn't done anything crazy or too far removed from his normal behavior. In fact, he thinks having a break from his very stressful life in New York might be just the thing he needs to get back to normal. And it's not like he can back out now. Not when his father sounds so thrilled to see him. Not when the money has already been spent on the non-refundable tickets. Not when everyone in Kurt's entire world knows that he is taking this trip and would find it very odd indeed if he suddenly changed his mind.
Kurt's reverie is broken by Rachel's voice as she rolls the door back. "Kurt, are you home? There's a package outside the door that has your name on it. I'm going to go ahead and open it."
Kurt's eyes fly wide open as he suddenly remembers placing a rush order for some very disturbing and very embarrassing sex toys. He doesn't have time to think about what that means about his state of mind.
"Wait! Don't open that!" he yells as he rips his privacy curtain aside and runs out into the apartment.