Well, hello there amazingly wonderful readers! I hope you all had a fantastic weekend, as usual. I personally spent the entire time working, but hey...I have wine now so it's all okay. This and the next chapter are probably some of my favorites that I've written for a fic, ever, so I really hope you all enjoy!

The song in this chapter is I'm Not Sick, but I'm Not Well. I apologize in advance for the fact that it will be stuck in the heads of anyone over the age of 20 that's now going to read this chapter.

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

Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda

Being on hand for quick fixes during filming turned out to be my favorite and least favorite part of the job all wrapped up into one. I thrived on the rush of thinking on my feet in a pinch. It was one of the reasons that I wanted to leave my job at Vogue in the first place, and working on set was the perfect way to fulfill that urge. All of the dancing and raucous party scenes, combined with the rowdy nature of the almost entirely male cast meant that my presence was very necessary on an almost minute by minute basis.

The not so good part, had to do with the increasingly large amounts of time I had to spend with Blaine. Don't get me wrong, Blaine was always polite and kind to me, but something about him and the way he carried himself just made my blood boil. In retrospect I recognize that feeling for what it really was. I had a crush, and maybe it was in the most middle school sense of the word, but it was there, and it was real. I was jealous, jealous of all the attention he would lavish upon the females in the room. And so, like a thirteen year old boy, I got Blaine's attention in the only way I knew how.

"Blaine could you keep it in your pants at least long enough for me to make the damn things fit properly," Kurt snapped from his crouched position. He was fixing a hem between takes, and Blaine was relentlessly flirting with one of the extras from the Dalton sister school. Blaine gave him an affronted look, but didn't say anything. That was the problem with Blaine. No matter how much Kurt dished out, he would never give it back. It only make Kurt more frustrated and snippy. "And you could maybe watch those fancy couch jumping maneuvers you love to do. This is the third time today I've had to mend your outfit."

"Oh, um...sorry," Blaine said sheepishly. And there he was doing it again, completely bending to whatever Kurt said. "I'll try to be more careful in the future," he added with a small smile as he headed back onto the set."

"Well you're strict," Tina said from behind Kurt. She wasn't needed on set, but she was fitting a few extras that didn't have their own dressing room, and she wanted to see if Kurt needed anything.

"I'm not strict. I just don't think he should be treated any differently just because he's Blaine Anderson," Kurt said, packing away the small notions kit he had just been using. "Someone has to tell it like it is."

Tina raised an eyebrow, "I don't know, he's always been nice to me," Tina mused. "There are a few wise guys on set, but Blaine's never struck me as someone who needs to be 'put in his place.'"

Kurt snorted, "yeah, okay," Kurt said, folding his arms and giving Tina a disbelieving look, "you don't think that might have something to do with the wonderful extra curricular trailer activities he may be hoping to have with you?" Kurt asked, putting finger quotes around extra-curricular.

Tina shrugged, "honestly, what he does in his trailer is his business, but I will say that I've worked here since the show started and I've never seen Blaine take anyone into his trailer," Tina said. "I mean he's a flirt, but as far as I know, he never really acts on it," she added. "Alright, Kurt, I better get back to work. I'll talk to you later."

Kurt was almost too shocked to respond. He gave Tina a wave and took another look at Blaine, who was going over some choreography with Wes and David, two of the other lead Warblers. Now that he really thought about it, in the few weeks that he had been working here, he'd never actually seen any evidence of Blaine do any of the torrid things he accused him of in his head.

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"I'm not sick, but I'm not well, and I'm so hot cause I'm in hell. I'm not sick, but I'm not well, and it's a sin to live so well!" Blaine's ringing tenor belted out the final chorus as the rest of the Warblers danced and jumped around them.

If Kurt was being honest, and frankly, he almost always was, he would say that the scene was completely ludicrous. The premise was that the Dalton boys invited girls from their sister school, Crawford Country Day, to watch them perform, under the guise of judging whether or not they were 'sexy' enough to compete at regionals. They were filming in some random warehouse. Bubble cannons were involved.

"That last take was perfect guys," the director called out. "That's a rap for today."

"Call us," Kurt heard a few of the Crawford girls say to Blaine, and when he looked up he saw them slipping him several pieces of paper.

"Sweet," Blaine said, taking the papers, and saying goodbye to the girls with a wave. The rest of the set was busy packing up in an effort to get home as quickly as possible, but Kurt was transfixed as he watched Blaine surreptitiously drop the phone numbers into the waste paper basket. "I...um...I don't like to date extras on the set...it um...it makes things too complicated."

Kurt jumped when he realized that Blaine was talking to him, and that he'd been caught staring. It only took him a moment, though to realize that he wasn't the only one who felt caught. "You don't have to explain yourself to me," Kurt said as coolly as possible. "I just assumed that your Rolodex was full to capacity," he replied.

"Not exactly," he mumbled, almost to himself. "So, what did you think?" Blaine said, quickly returning to his normal self, and gesturing behind him to where he had previously been performing.

"Can I be really honest, because it comes from a place of caring about the show?" Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded slowly, "you're a star, Blaine. There's no doubt about that. Your solos are breathtaking," Kurt could practically hear Blaine preening, "they're also predictable," he added and then he saw his face fall. "I know that's sort of the point of the show, but honestly, I can tell exactly what the Warblers are going to sing based on what song I'm most sick of hearing on the radio," Kurt went to pick up his equipment to go. "But, what do I know? I'm just here for the clothes," he added breezily. "I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine."

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Thirty two: that was the number of times that Blaine had read the article in Time magazine about Ellen coming out of the closet. He was on read number thirty three when he heard his room mate, Wes walk through the door of their apartment, "do you think I'm boring?"

"Hello to you, too," Wes said, hanging up his jacket and making his way over the the fridge for a soda. "And as much as you know I would support you if you wanted to pull an Ellen, I'm not sure that's the the kind of interest you're trying to generate just now," Wes added, gesturing to the magazine. Wes was one of the very few non-family members that knew Blaine's secret.

"What? Oh," Blaine said, when he saw where Wes was pointing. "No, not that. I was just thinking. Do you think I'm too sheltered...as an artist?"

"I'm not sure I know how to successfully answer that question, Blaine," Wes said. "I think you're a great performer, but you're sort of fulfilling a fairly niche genre right now. I don't know if all of those fourteen year old girls would be especially pleased if you started singing Nirvana and wearing guyliner."

Blaine rolled his eyes, "No, I mean...like...singing used to be this amazing escape for me. It used to make me feel alive, but if I have to sing another chart topping single from the next boy band to emerge from nowhere, I might throw up," he said, dramatically waving his arms around. "I mean Kurt was just saying how..."

"Ah, I see now," Wes said with a laugh.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaine said, folding his arms.

"It means that I can switch gears. I'm not talking you down from an existential crisis anymore, I just have to listen to you pining over a cute boy," Wes said, putting up a hand to keep Blaine from protesting. "I'm straight, Blaine, not blind."

Blaine sighed, "okay, you're right. He's gorgeous," Blaine admitted, "but that doesn't make his point any less valid. We're stuck in a rut on that show, and I need to get us out of it if I'm going to continue to be a Warbler. This show is amazing, and I love all of you guys, but I need to grow as an artist, or I'm going to go crazy."

Wes gave Blaine a long look. They had known each other practically since they were both in diapers, and Wes knew when Blaine's mind was completely made up, "you're really serious about this?"

"Extremely serious," Blaine replied.

"Okay, then I'm going to help you," Wes said. "We have a few days off from filming. I don't want you to shave for that entire time, and Saturday night we're going out incognito. We're going to see a performance like you've never seen before."

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Kurt spent the next few days wavering between beating himself up over being so candid with Blaine Anderson, and over analyzing the way Blaine had reacted to being caught throwing out phone numbers.

"Which one of these says Aretha to you?" Wade asked, breaking Kurt out of his thoughts by waving two almost identical shades of red nail polish in his face. "At first I thought 'Russian Red' for sure but now I might be leaning towards 'Chirelle,'" he mused, sitting down on the couch next to Kurt.

Kurt laughed, "Wade, honey, I'm a fashion designer, and even I can't tell the difference between those two colors," he said.

"I know! I'm being ridiculous," Wade exclaimed, "I'm just so nervous. This is the first time I'm doing Aretha in during the 10:00 PM slot. This could be huge for me!"

"Hey, what happened to 'drag queens don't get nervous'?" Kurt asked, quoting Wade from a few months ago.

"Well, I lied!" he said, sighing dramatically and laying his head in Kurt's lap, "this drag queen is definitely nervous."

Kurt chuckled lightly, "I'm sure once you get on the lashes, and the heels, and that fabulous red gown I made for you, you'll feel much better," Kurt said, giving Wade a pat on the head. "And I'll be there you cheer you on! That never happens!" Kurt joked.

"Damn straight it never happens," Wade said, sitting up and poking Kurt in the ribs. "You never leave the house. No wonder it's been ages since you've gotten any," he added.

"I leave the house all the time!" Kurt defended.

"And yet, I hear no protest for my second comment."

"I work ten hour days at the studio, and then on the weekends I have to do all of my freelance designing. You know I work crazy hours," Kurt defended. "I can get laid once I'm rich and famous," he added.

"Yeah, yeah," Wade replied. "Do yourself, and everyone around you a a favor and wear your tightest pants on Saturday. I want everyone in the club to be jealous of that booty."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but was ultimately grateful for his best friend's encouragement, "yes, sir."