I got help from two cool sources this week. For one, the coffee shop where I typed most of this chapter was playing an awesome mix of 90s music. It was most inspiring. Two, I was able to visit the FIT museum to see their "Ivy Style" exhibit. It's right by my work, so I stopped in during my lunch hour. It was great! It was like being in Blaine Anderson's closet. You can be sure that I'll be looking back on that experience throughout the entire story.

Endless thanks to my beta, julesmonster. I'm really enjoying re-living the 90s with you!

Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda

Not thinking about Blaine turned out to be, predictably, way harder than I originally thought it would be. It seemed like, not only was he the star of the show, but he was the star of the work place as well. My direct employees in particular, liked to gossip and giggle over the heartthrob that was Blaine Anderson.

"...and then, he winked at me!" Pamela said, recounting the previous day's encounter for what had to be the sixth time in an hour. Never the less, the rest of the girls squealed and gasped the same way they had the first time.

"Okay, Pamela," Kurt said, finally putting a stop to it. "As lovely as your story telling prowess is, we really need to get back to work and don't you, you know...have a job to do that doesn't involve distracting my seamstresses?" he added saltily. Kurt was usually much more tolerant of girly gossiping, but for some reason the way they were talking about Blaine was really grating on him.

Pamela, looking satisfactorily cowed, scurried out the door with her clip board in hand, "why so sour, boss?" Tina, the head of tailoring, asked. She was a sweet girl and Kurt could see them becoming friends, "are you saying you don't think Blaine is you know...cute?"

Ah, there is was. Kurt was wondering when his new co-workers would finally go fishing for a definitive answer about his sexuality. He always wondered what it was precisely that gave him away. Perhaps his profession was red flag enough, or maybe it was his voice, or the way he dressed. He peaked down at his clothes. He was wearing a fairly standard three piece suit, his jacket that been long forgotten as he worked, though, and he was just wearing the vest with the sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up. It was impeccably tailored, of course, but he was a designer—anything else would just be embarrassing. He sighed, and once again decided that this line of thinking wasn't going anywhere.

He might as well get it over with now, "yes, of course he's cute. I'm not blind. I just think that it's silly for the four of your to wax poetic for ages over every interaction. He probably has some famous super model girlfriend," Kurt said dismissively. "And besides, he winks at everyone. I'm beginning to think he has a twitch."

"I do not have a twitch!" Kurt heard from the door of the sewing room, and low and behold, standing there was the man himself.

"Oh my god! I'm...I'm so sorry Mr. Anderson. I...um...I didn't know you'd be standing right there," Kurt panicked, trying to cover up. His face turned a brilliant shade of red. It was only his second day, and already he was unintentionally insulting people. He should really learn to keep his big mouth shut. "How...how long we you standing there actually," Kurt said suddenly remembering that he had admitted to thinking Blaine was cute.

"Just long enough to know that you think I have a birth defect," Blaine said teasingly. "Please don't worry about it. I'm not insulted, and please call me Blaine. I insist."

"Um...okay, Blaine," Kurt said, feeling relieved enough to try the name out on his tongue. "Did you need something?" he said, finally calming down enough to realize that there was probably a reason that Blaine was standing in the doorway of the wardrobe room.

"I didn't think I needed a reason to visit my favorite department," Blaine said, grinning cheekily at Sugar who blushed and buried her nose back in the dress she was hemming. "But I did stop by to pick up my wardrobe for today."

Kurt barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "of course. Just try them on behind that curtain over there so I can make sure the alterations are correct."

The wardrobe for the show was already proving itself to be interesting. Kurt had a few friends who had worked in television in the past and typically teen dramas were a hot bed of the latest fashions. Kurt remembers taking cues from Beverly Hills 90210 in his own later high school years. Dalton, however, was totally different. Set in the hollowed halls of an Ohio prep school, the wardrobe consisted of the finest ivy style, and most notably, the now extremely recognizable Dalton uniform.

"Oh my god I love this song! I've been trying to get them to do it on the show!" Blaine called from behind the privacy curtain, snapping Kurt out of his thoughts and reminding him that the radio was playing in the background, just in time for him to hear Blaine start enthusiastically singing along, "when you're feeling sad and low, we can take you where you wanna go. Smiling, dancing, everything is free. All you need is positivity! It sucks they won't let me do girl songs," Blaine added with an over dramatic sigh.

Kurt, who was still reeling from the the events of the last five minutes, couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only were he and his three employees getting a private concert, but Blaine Anderson was singing the Spice Girls. "I think you should be able to sing whatever song you want," Kurt said quietly as he sketched a new outfit for Blaine's TV mom.

"I knew there was a reason you were my favorite department," Blaine said, stepping out from behind the curtain in his latest outside of school outfit and winking at Kurt. "Sorry. It was just my twitch."

As a point of interest, Blaine later admitted to me that he heard me saying that I thought he was cute. I was not any less embarrassed in retrospect.

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"That boy is razor fine," Wade commented. The two of them were in their living room watching the first episode of Dalton that Kurt had worked on. "What's it like doing his inseams?"

Kurt swiftly hit his room mate over the head with a throw pillow, "don't be ridiculous! I'm a professional."

"Who hit your buzzer, Hummel? I haven't seen you this uptight since the last time you ran out of AAA batteries," he replied, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

"I'm not uptight," he said sharply, only loosening his grip on the armrest when Wade gave him an extremely disbelieving look. "I'm...I'm just tired of everyone talking about Blaine Anderson. It's all my employees every talk about, and then I come home and your totally crazy over him too. I'm just...it's annoying is all. He's just a guy."

Wade put his hands up in surrender, "alright, alright, I won't mention it again," Wade said, going back to the TV. "I'm just saying that if he were gay I'd tell you to get on that."

"Well, he's not," Kurt said, folding his arm. "The man flirts with anything that has boobs."

And that was exactly it. I didn't know it at the time, of course, but Blaine was very deliberate in his crusade to flirt with every woman that crossed his path. He was paranoid. He knew he was gay, and he knew that nothing would change the fact that he'd much rather be sending his winks to the cute camera man, or the muscled extra that was on set that week, or the brand new chief of wardrobe.