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Kurt needed to get home. There was a Project Runway marathon on tonight and it had his name on it. He sidestepped a family of tourists, hoping that Rachel was out so he could just collapse on the couch and indulge in his favourite show. Mostly he needed to be free to yell at the TV when Jonas decided to add three feathers to a corduroy jacket and label it inspired.
“You! You are just who I need.” A giant hand reached out from the mass of shifting bodies that was Times’ Square at sunset and grabbed hold of Kurt’s arm. Startled, Kurt snatched his sleeve out of the man’s hand and turned around to face him. He was tall exceedingly handsome. And probably a murderer.
“Excuse you??”
“I need someone to take a photo of me and they can’t be too short or wearing glasses. You are perfect.”
Kurt didn’t move. The man sighed and stepped closer to Kurt. “I need your help. It’s life or death,” he said, his voice and eyes holding a new level of directness.
This man was way too pretty and in any other, less dire circumstances, Kurt would have been rendered speechless by his smile. Today, the day of the PR marathon, was not that day.
Kurt opened his mouth, ready to tear this stranger a new one for holding up his schedule when the man just said, “Excellent! Knew you’d come around,” and caught a hold of Kurt’s arm once more. He dragged him through the crowd, stopping just on the other side of the large group of Indian tourists.
“What the he – ”
“Don’t worry. All you need to do is get in real close and make sure the photo highlights my left side. I like to call that my billboard-ready side. Honestly they will be asking for my likeness on a billboard any day now and I cannot trust that the photographer will be able to recognise perfection when they see it.” The man paused long enough to take note of Kurt’s raised eyebrows and added, “You have to prepare for these things.”
Kurt understood. This man was the taller, male version of Rachel Berry. It was kind of comforting to know that she wasn’t the only one like this, that other people saw the world as she did. What wasn’t comforting was the fact that he still had no idea who this man was and what he wanted from Kurt.
But there was no chance to ask before the man shoved his phone into Kurt’s hands and started posing. And that’s when it all became very clear.
“You want a photo with the Hedwig billboard?” Kurt clarified, wondering why this man had made it so incredibly difficult. This was New York, you couldn’t walk two steps without being stopped to take a photo for someone. But no one else had thought he had to be kidnapped to take one before, asking usually sufficed.
The stranger glanced over his shoulder at the Hedwig sign and said, “Of course. This is the last one. I need to make sure to commemorate them all.”
Kurt had no idea what that meant but he didn’t want to ask. Going along with this man was obviously the lesser of two evils, especially if he wanted to make it home any time soon.
Snapping a photo he pushed the phone back into the man’s hands. “There.”
He looked down at the photo, a crease marring his otherwise annoyingly perfect face. “No, no this won’t do. You need to lift the camera higher but angle it down. Not too far down though because I want the billboard still to be featured, just not overpowering.”
Kurt had the phone thrust back at him. He sighed and took three more. But those weren’t up to spec either. It took a further fifteen snaps before the man was happy, and Kurt was decidedly unhappy.
“Can I go home now?” Any other time he would have hated sounding so whiny but he was tired and it had been an excruciatingly long day, mostly spent pandering to other people’s whims. First during dance class, then at the diner and now this man.
Clear blue eyes were closely scrutinising the latest photo and Kurt tried very hard not to kick the man and walk off.
“This will do,” he said, causing Kurt to breathe a sigh of relief. “But you can’t go home.”
A pause. “Why not?”
“I need to thank you. So you’ll come to the show with me.”
Kurt scrubbed a hand over his face. “What show?”
“That one,” he pointed over his shoulder at the poster.
Kurt blinked up at it. His brain was getting slower the more time he spent with this man. “No that’s not necessary,” he finally said. “I would really like to just go home.”
“Nonsense. I have front row tickets.” The huge obnoxious smile came back. “I also heard he likes to make out with the cutest boy in the front row so you might end up with more than just a playbill.”
Kurt flushed a little and then glanced back up to the billboard. Blaine Anderson was a total dream, it was true. A dream that Kurt had, on occasion, indulged in. He couldn’t be blamed for that. Blaine was the same age as Kurt, talented, gorgeous and very very gay. A “Gold Star Gay” according to one of his interviews. He had wanted to see the show for a while but he just hadn’t had the time nor the disposable cash to do it.
He looked at the irritatingly attractive man in front of him. It was ridiculous that he was even entertaining the thought. But on the other hand something about his demeanour seemed unabashedly harmless. Much like Rachel. And add in front row seats to the hottest show in town…
“Ok,” he heard himself saying.
The man pointed at him and said, “Excellent! You won’t be disappointed.” Then raising his voice unnecessarily, seeing as Kurt was still standing right next to him, said, “Let’s go. I don’t want to miss the trailers.”
“There are no trailers!” said Kurt, taking after the man, who strode away at a confident pace and with a complete disregard for the people standing in his way. “It’s theatre.”
“And THAT is why it’s a dying artform,” said the man, still talking much louder than necessary. “Advertisements are the backbone of the entertainment industry. Without them no one would know how to live their lives properly.”
Kurt glanced as they passed a subway entrance. He could just run down those steps and be away from this madman. He could get home and snuggle up with his blanket and some ice-cream and watch his favourite show. But he didn’t. He followed the man passed the steps, berating himself silently and thinking he needed to at least text Rachel a photo of the man he was with in case he went missing. (But there was nothing he wanted to do less than take another damn photo of this man’s face)
“We’re close!” the man said, slowing his pace so Kurt was able to walk alongside him instead of trailing from behind. “I can smell the enthusiasm of fangirls from a mile away,” he said. He turned and winked at Kurt, saying, “Well fangirls and fanboys.”
Kurt scoffed. Who was the one who’d demanded he take 20 identical photos of him standing in front of the show’s billboard?
But it turns out he was right. They rounded the corner and Kurt saw a large group of people, mostly young and female, clamouring against the barricades outside of the Belasco Theatre. Past them Kurt could see the giant hazel eyes staring out onto the street. They were even more captivating plastered on a set of huge double doors.
Kurt wrenched his own eyes away from the site and was struck by a certain thought. “What time is it? Are you sure there’s a show on now?” The crowd outside seemed post-show boisterous and they all appeared to be holding playbills.
The man didn’t listen and just walked straight through the crowd. A couple of the fangirls looked at him and then did a double take. A hushed whispering came from all sides as Kurt hesitantly followed him.
Kurt thought he caught the word “coo” being repeated a few times but he couldn’t be sure. He was distracted a second later as the man started pounding on the metal gate and yelling at the top of his lungs.
“HELLO!! WE HAVE ARRIVED! THE SHOW CAN BEGIN!”
Kurt shrunk away from him. Oh god. This was like a trainwreck, terribly disturbing but he just couldn’t look away.
Amazingly Kurt saw some movement from behind the gate and only a second later a large goateed man pushed it open and stared out at them, his face relatively expressionless.
“Thank you, my good man!” said the source of all of Kurt’s current embarrassment, patting goatee on the upper arm as he squeezed past him. “I was worried the fans were about to jump me. Oh and the pale one is with me.”
Kurt didn’t follow immediately, still completely confused. He jumped however when the goateed man coughed and indicated he go through.
Just as the gate closed behind Kurt he heard a brave voice shout from the crowd outside, “I love you, Cooper!”
The man turned back, looking torn for a second. Then he just shouted, “I love you too!” and continued on into the theatre, the shrieks of the people outside seeming to add a new bounce to his step.
Once inside, the man, Cooper, smiled at Kurt. “I do love the fans.”
“Who are…??” But Cooper walked on before he could finish asking the question.
Glancing around, Kurt was struck by the thought that for the second time in his life he seemed to have snuck into the backstage area of a Broadway theatre. He was seeing and smelling things that only a few lucky people got to see and smell. He shivered. This here, this was holy ground.
Cooper, on the other hand didn’t seem as impressed by the grey industrial hallway they found themselves in. He just moved swiftly along. Looking into all the rooms he passed.
“TINA!” he shouted, pointing into a room he had just opened the door of. A shriek sounded and then a whack, and Kurt saw Cooper stagger back a few paces.
“What the hell, Cooper? Do you still not understand the idea of privacy?”
Kurt watched, enthralled from the other end of the hall. He was only here because of this Cooper guy, but Tina Cohen Chang was an actual Broadway star: one of the youngest headliners currently working on the Great White Way. He took a few steps closer just because he didn’t want to miss anything but he also didn’t want to get too close. He had heard some stories about people who got on the wrong side of this Yitzhak.
“There is no privacy when you’re in front of the camera, darling,” Cooper retorted, smiling wildly at her. “The show waits for no woman.”
Kurt edged his way towards them and he heard a snort. “Well it sure didn’t wait for you. You do know you missed the show by about an hour right? The seats B reserved for you were left empty the whole show.” Kurt watched as an arm extend outward from within the room and poked Cooper in his chest. “You owe him an apology.”
The first flicker of real emotion crossed over Cooper’s face as he raised his hand to smooth down his hair. But then it was gone a second later as he turned and looked at Kurt. “Well Squirt will forgive me. I had an errand to run and I even brought him a gift.” He motioned to Kurt. And then a dark, wet head poked around the corner and looked straight at him.
“You brought this guy as a… gift for missing his show? What’s his name?”
“Kurt Hummel,” said Kurt and then added, “What do you mean a gift?”
“Yep!” said Cooper, ignoring him and bouncing on his toes a little.
“You didn’t say anything abou – ”
“Well he’s cute, I’ll give you that,” Tina said over Kurt. He unconsciously tugged at his jacket sleeves, smoothing out invisible wrinkles.
“Isn’t he just?”
“I still don’t think you’ll be in the clear. This was his 50th show and he wanted you there. You haven’t even watched it once in all that time.”
Cooper waved that away. “I saw the show plenty of times when he was rehearsing. He knows I support him. Even in the drab, colourless world of theatre. It’s not my fault I was called away to star in Hawaii 5-0.” Cooper winked at Kurt. “I have a three episode arc as the charismatic butler who keeps accidentally poisoning people. You should watch it. Some of my best work even if the writing was a little uninspired.”
“Oh don’t bother watching it,” said Tina. “It’ll just be a whole lot of this guy pointing, yelling and not making eye-contact with anything other than the camera. Your brother is in the pink room. I’m sure HE’S managed to finish his shower in peace by now.” She turned on the spot and slammed the door behind her.
“Thanks Tina!” Cooper yelled through the door, seeming unconcerned with her assessment of his acting abilities. “I will try and convince Blainey to let you finish that song on stage just once.”
“It’s in the fucking script, Cooper!” she screamed back.
Cooper shook his head and turned to Kurt. “Poor thing, she still doesn’t know how to negotiate properly. When I was filming Skull Crusher 5: The Powder Groom, I had it in my contract that every scene in the movie had to end with a close up of my face. The director didn’t like it but I talked him round.”
Turning and marching off down the hall, Cooper missed the look Kurt was giving him. But then he probably wouldn’t have cared anyway.
“Come on, I have to introduce you to my brother.”
It was then that all that he had seen and heard snapped into place and Kurt finally realised who he had been spending the past 20 minutes with. It was like being struck in the face with a frozen beverage. Holy crap.
He’d called him… Blainey. Wow. Kurt could not have predicted how his day would go. Ridiculously his first instinct in that moment was to call Rachel and squeal at her through the phone. But he didn’t want to cause a scene. Not when Cooper Anderson, brother of Broadway darling Blaine Anderson, was already proving to be a scene-causer himself. Without any further thought Kurt hurried after the man, towards what was sure to be Blaine Anderson’s dressing room.
Once again Cooper didn’t knock and instead just wrenched open the fairy covered door and marched inside. Kurt waited a second to hear if there was a scream or a slap and, when there wasn’t one, he poked his head around the door.
Blaine Anderson stood in the middle of the room, staring his brother down. At least that’s what it looked like he was trying to do but it didn’t help that he was a head shorter and wearing a floral dressing gown.
Kurt didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself but he still couldn’t help whipping his head around, checking out the room just as much as the man occupying it. Everything was pink and cluttered. Photos of famous people and fanart covered every wall and mirror and there were bunches of flowers resting on the most precarious surfaces. It was brilliant.
“Hey squirt.”
“Cooper.”
“You missed the show.”
“Yes I did but it was for a good reason.”
Blaine crossed his arms in front of himself and raised his famous triangle eyebrows.
“I was continuing the tradition,” Cooper said, taking his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it before handing it over to his brother. “Look at the photos.”
The Eyebrows slowly lowered as Blaine swiped over the screen multiple times. He huffed out a laugh. “Did you take a photo in front of every single one?”
Cooper smiled, the reflection of it in the mirror hitting Kurt right in the face. “Of course. It took a while. I had to rely on the internet for finding them. And then the people taking the photos often didn’t understand about the proper light distribution needed to highlight the Anderson features. But I got it. Seventy-eight posters spread out through New York City.”
Blaine laughed again but this time it was interrupted by a hiccup and a loud sniff. Kurt saw a couple of tears slip down his face before Blaine was smothered by his older brother in a hug. “Don’t cry, squirt. I’m sorry I missed your show.”
“That’s not – ”
“I did bring you a gift!”
“Coop…”
“His name’s Kurt!”
There was a long pause and then Kurt saw Blaine’s head peek over his brother’s shoulder and his eyes landed directly on him. They were just as pretty as he’d imagined even when blood shot and wet. Not to mention wide with surprise.
“COOP!” Blaine pushed away from Cooper and spun around to face the mirror. “You can’t just bring someone into my dressing room without warning me.” Kurt watched as he grabbed up a handful of tissues from the dressing table and scrubbed at his eyes.
“But he’s your gift! I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Please stop saying that,” said Kurt, unable to keep silent any longer.
“You can’t just give someone to me as a gift, Coop!”
“But he helped me take one of the photos and he said he was a huge fan – ”
“I did not say that,” Kurt interjected, feeling the blush sweep up his cheeks. “N-not that I’m not a fan. Just that I didn’t… say it.”
Blaine, turned back to face them, his own face red from where he’d been scrubbing at his cheeks. And maybe a little red for other reasons, thought Kurt optimistically. “Well thank you…?”
Stepping around the older Anderson, Kurt stuck out his hand and said, “Kurt Hummel.” Blaine’s hand was warm and soft.
“Blaine Anderson. Although, I guess you know that.”
He didn’t sound as cocky as he should have saying that line but a touch of interest had appeared in his eyes and the side of his mouth quirked upwards.
Kurt’s blush increased. “I’m sorry we missed your show. I’ve been wanting to see it for weeks.”
Blaine’s smile increased and for the first time Kurt saw a little bit of Cooper in him. “Well I think I can get you some tickets. You know, for you and your… boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
Kurt almost smiled. Oh yeah. This was way better than that Project Runway marathon. “What about just for my friend?”
Blaine bit his lip and nodded. “Yep. That’s totally do-able.”
They stared at each other, Kurt unable to look away.
And then Cooper interrupted the moment by saying, “Soooo… present accepted?” smugness coating the words.
“Shut up, Cooper,” said Blaine and Kurt at the exact same time. Still not breaking their locked gaze.
The following week, Kurt sat in the front row of the Belasco Theatre, smiling and crying, with Rachel’s hand clutched tightly in his own. It was the best show he had ever seen. And although Hedwig did indeed pick him as his kissee for that evening, it was two more weeks before he got to kiss Blaine properly.
They took a photo of their second kiss and sent it to Cooper. He replied with a smiley face and a 7.5 out of 10 rating.