Fic: Faith, Trust and Pixie Dust, Part One (Klaine Big Bang)

[aelora]

Title: Faith, Trust and Pixie Dust
Author: Aelora
Beta: WhenIDance
Artist: cassandrareign
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 36,000 +
Rating: R
Summary: After a bad break up with the love of his life, Blaine Anderson, his senior year of high school, Kurt Hummel had pretty much given up on dreams, and instead, focused on reality. Still, it’s kind of difficult to mock the dreams of the brides he plans weddings for, especially once he begins working for the one place where dreams are made - the Disney Weddings Group at Walt Disney World. It’s even more difficult to turn a blind eye to his own dreams when Blaine turns up portraying Disney’s hottest new character, the Swan Prince, and begins a ridiculous campaign of attempting to win Kurt back that includes castles, fireworks, fairy tales and a giant talking mouse. Blaine needs to break past the walls Kurt has built up over the last six years. Is that special Disney magic enough to prove to him that dreams really can come true?
A/N: At the end of the fic.





Once upon a time…

Isn’t that the way all good stories begin? The ones filled with romance and castles, beautiful princesses and dashing princes, terrifying villains and hardships that our heroes and heroines can only overcome together.

Once upon a time there was a lonely prince, an outcast within his own kingdom, who happened upon…

No, scratch that.

Once upon a time there were two boys who loved one another very, very much, and they were brought together by a bird, in an odd sort of way. But things went wrong, as they sometimes do, and the fairy tale ending they’d both imagined in their daydreams came to a bitter end.

Except, it wasn’t really an end.

Once upon a time, two boys who once loved one another very, very much were given a second chance at their fairy tale ending. And just like before, this story involves a bird too.



Disney World
Orlando, Florida
March 5th, 2018

Some day my prince will come
Some day we'll meet again
And away to his castle we'll go
To be happy forever I know.

Some day when spring is here
We'll find our love anew
And the birds will sing
And wedding bells will ring
Some day when my dreams come true.
-- Snow White



“I don’t envy you, you know? This has to be the most insane time of the year to start working here. Well, other than if you chose to start in June. That would be certifiable, honestly.”

“It’s not as if I had a choice,” Kurt replies as he follows Janelle through the main room of the Wedding Pavilion and down a hallway toward the offices, hand smoothing down the front of his beige Maison Martin Margiela cardigan. It’s a little warm for the sweater to be necessary, but he would have felt under-dressed without it. While the burgundy striped McQueen tie adds the necessary pizzazz to the outfit, without a sweater or jacket, the whole ensemble would have been pointless. Dressing appropriately for your first day at work is almost as stressful as your first date. “I suppose I could have said ‘oh, would you mind if I waited until say December to start? Just, hold that position please’, though I don’t think it would have made the best impression.”

“Probably not,” Janelle admits with a smile, as she glances over at her shoulder at him. “We only had two hundred and seventy-three applicants for this position.”

Only. Kurt flashes a quick smile, though his hands tighten nervously over the strap of his Prada messenger bag. He’d been told any position with the Disney Wedding Groups team was highly competitive, he just hadn’t quite realized how much truth there had been to that statement. Somehow, they’d chosen him over two hundred and seventy-three other applicants. The nervousness he is feeling over his first day on the job suddenly triples.

“Well, here’s your office.” Janelle leans around the doorframe to switch on the light as Kurt steps in.

It’s not much different from the décor of the rest of the Wedding Pavilion; delicate oak furniture, all tastefully matching, with granite countertops in a mixture of warm and cool colors. The walls are papered in intricate peach designs on ivory background in between the white moldings. The desk is beautiful, and behind it built-in shelving covers the entire wall. There’s a table and four chairs beside a double-window with delicate ivory lace curtains. The chairs covered are in peach and green floral silk damask. Kurt is pretty certain he could live in this office; all it needs is some tasteful artwork and a few plants for greenery.

“Do you like?” Janelle asks with a smile that says she already knows the answer.

“It’ll do,” Kurt replies, his smirk giving him away as he steps inside and sets his bag down on the desk.

“If you need a new computer, let us know. Your laptop and Blackberry should be in tomorrow. If you have any problems, the numbers for our Disney techs are in the drawer beneath the phone. Also, check with our administrative assistant, Marilyn, and she’ll assign a company credit card to you.”

Kurt looks up and smiles at his coworker. “You know this is just like Christmas morning, right?”

Janelle laughs. “Welcome to Disney, Mr. Hummel.”



Kurt’s beginning to worry that he’s never going to completely catch up on and understand everything there is to know about his new employer. There’s just so much, and even the week-long orientation doesn’t seem as if it were enough to prepare him for everything he’s expected to know. Janelle assures him that it just takes time, but he’s gotten lost almost every time he’s stepped outside the pavilion doors, and don’t even get him started on the size of the property. The other night he drove around for more than an hour looking for one of the gas stations, and kept getting stuck in the Caribbean Beach resort parking lot.

Kurt has been given the clients from the previous planner whose position he was brought in to fill. They include two weddings coming up in the next week that he need only be on hand for, six weddings over the next three weeks that require coordination with the various departments to have everything in place and ready for the bridal party and guests, and a total of ten weddings that still require quite a bit of planning, and leave him feeling just a little nauseous as he stares at the files. The worst of the bunch is the McCafferty wedding; Lenore McCafferty is the daughter of Florida’s Republican senator, and currently the price tag for the wedding is set at over $100,000. She wants to be married in Cinderella’s castle after the close of the park, complete with carriage and white horses and the entire package. When Janelle had explained it to him, Kurt had turned a little paler than usual. She’d handed him a bottle of water and told him diving in head first was really the best way to experience what working for Disney Wedding’s was all about.

Kurt isn’t so certain about that.

Currently he is making his way around Magic Kingdom to meet one of the Disney photographers near the carousel behind Cinderella’s Castle, pausing occasionally to stare at the map in his hands. He really has no idea where he is going or what the best way is to get there. Glancing up, he notes that he’s currently facing toward the castle; there’s a large crowd in front of him, watching the current performance on stage. He looks back down at the map, thinking how he probably should have just taken the tunnels as suggested. But no, Kurt feels the need to learn his way around the parks without helpful employee shortcuts for those moments when he is showing clients around, hence why he’s stuck out here right now, a tad bit lost.

Tucking the map back into the pocket of his Dolce and Gabanna pinstriped blazer, Kurt skirts the edge of the crowd, glancing briefly over the thousands of heads toward the stage where the performers look like tiny figures from a music box, spinning and dancing to the slightly garbled music coming from the speakers. He feels a momentary pang of envy; he misses performing, he can admit that much. For all that he loves planning weddings, from the choice of the fabrics to the design of the cakes right down to occasionally helping with attire, he misses the stage. He misses singing out his emotions, something a little beyond just doing it in the shower or the privacy of his car. There’s something about having an audience, having someone to understand what you’re saying…

He gave it up right around the point he realized he had reverted to singing songs from Jagged Little Pill more often than not.



Mentally shaking the unwanted memories from his thoughts, Kurt smiles a brief apology as he steps between the crowd, slipping down a path toward the right of the stage, and that’s when he hears it:

“Sing to me of right and wrong, of love’s lament, of summer’s swan…”

It’s not the words. He knows the words. Everyone does. The Swan Prince is Disney’s recent blockbuster. Not even a year old and still breaking records through DVD sales, merchandising and album sales. There’s a cartoon in the works for the Disney channel, and a Broadway musical and -

“Lift me up on your wings, and together we’ll soar-”

Oh god.

Kurt turns toward the stage and stares. He’d know that voice anywhere. That amazing, breathtaking voice that had sang to him just once and caused him to fall completely and totally in love.

That voice he now hates with every fiber of his being.

The voice of Blaine Anderson.

“Excuse me,” Kurt says, pushing his way toward the stage, trying to get a closer look at the figure standing near the edge, the one in the now famous Swan Prince costume with the beautiful white wing extended over the left arm.

He can clearly see black hair still tamed with too-much pomade (of course, the Swan Prince doesn’t have ridiculous curls that used to wrap themselves greedily around Kurt’s fingers) and a slight, slim figure that is honestly too short to be hired as one of the princely performers for Disney (but Blaine would because they’d hear his voice and gaze into his eyes, and then he’d freaking smile at them and they’d be sold, heart and soul) but Kurt just has to be certain. In his heart, he already knows it’s him, because he knows that voice and that step and that twirl, but it’s been so long, and maybe he’s wrong, maybe…

He’s only three people back from the stage now, and Prince Ardwin chooses that moment to spin toward him, holding out his feathered wing in supplication as he sings the last haunting notes of love’s lament, and ridiculously beautiful hazel eyes, more molten gold than anything else and fringed in stupidly thick lashes, drop down to meet his in instant recognition.

Shit.

Kurt glares, because there is not much else he can do, even as a bright smile appears on Blaine’s stupid face, and he spins on his heels, pushing his way through the crowd in an attempt to get away from that stage and Blaine Anderson’s stupid, happy smile as quickly as possible.

Six years.

Six years and Kurt has finally moved on from that time in his life, has finally gotten over his first love. Well, mostly. Or at least, partially. After all, it isn’t as if he spends his nights anymore curled up on the sofa eating far too much ice cream and sobbing through Bridget Jones’ Diary. Those initial months through the last semester of high school had been horrible, especially when they’d been forced to go to Nationals together, to sing together, and to accept the award and praises from their friends. Then there had been prom-Kurt refuses to allow himself to even think of that night.

He had gotten past it, though. He’d moved on. He had dated guys in college-pretty amazing guys, too. Artists and designers and musicians and even a computer science major, who Kurt finally had to break it off with because there was only so much original series Star Trek he could sit through repeatedly. (He would not, on the threat of death, admit there were a few scifi shows he’d been exposed to and actually enjoy, such as Babylon Five and Firefly… Simon Tam was hot, okay?) For the most part, Blaine had been an afterthought over the last four years or so, hovering in the back of his mind like an annoying mosquito that refused to go away. Whenever Kurt had a relationship, there always seemed to be something missing-either his partner was too romantic, or not romantic enough, or he didn’t like the clothes they wore, or how they styled their hair. Sometimes their eyes were the wrong color, or their hair was too straight, and then when the whole relationship went to hell, Kurt would spend the next week cursing Blaine Anderson for ever being born.

Why couldn’t the memory of him just go the hell away?

“Kurt!”

But this? This is a million times worse. This isn’t Kurt’s active imagination or memories of what could have been or should have been. This is Blaine Anderson, in the flesh, apparently chasing after him, and maybe Kurt speeds up just a little bit, pretending not to hear.

“Hey, Kurt! Wait up, please?”

It’s the please that causes Kurt to utter a sigh of frustration as he comes to a stop, turning and waiting for his ex-his ex everything to catch up. Blaine stops a few feet in front of him, and for a moment, they’re just kind of looking at each other. His ex is still in Prince Ardwin’s ridiculous costume- pure white from head to toe. The tail coat is trimmed in red and gold braid, with intricate gold designs over the chest. The cravat is red silk-and damn if red hasn’t always been Blaine’s best color-and it looks smashing against the red and gold vest revealed beneath the coat. The white breeches are almost obscenely tight, and the knee-high black boots are, of course, shined to perfection.

Blaine looks every part the prince, and it doesn’t surprise Kurt in the least.

“Wow,” Blaine says about sixty seconds in to their combined silence. “You’re honestly the last person I ever expected to see here.”

Six years? And those are the first words you say to me? is what Kurt really wants to say, but instead he says, “Yeah. Same here.”

When he finally allows himself to look at Blaine’s face, Kurt mentally curses himself for giving in. He hasn’t changed much, at all. Sure, there’s maturity there, the softness of youth slowly giving way to sharper angles, more prominent cheekbones, a wider smile, and if possible, larger eyes. Blaine’s eyes have always been a bit of a weakness for Kurt, and apparently that hasn’t changed because he finds himself staring at them for just a moment too long, and he realizes Blaine is smiling at him, with all that happy exuberance he’d had when they were teenagers, from the moment they’d first met.

Kurt firmly focuses his gaze just past Blaine’s shoulder. The last thing he really wants is for his ex to realize he still finds him undeniably attractive.

“Gosh, you look good,” Blaine is saying, as always just as open and honest as ever, clearly not even bothering to think through his own words. “Love the shoes.”

Kurt glances down at his Fluevog black and white Lucianos.

“Did you grow some more? That’s unfair, Kurt. You really need to stop.”

Kurt doesn’t appreciate his teasing, or how easily he can just… fall back into this. But then, why not? Blaine was, after all, the one to walk away.

“What are you even doing here?” Blaine glances around, as if searching for someone. “Are you here with family or… someone special?”

Not even bothering to respond verbally, Kurt holds up his employee badge.

Blaine leans in slightly, reading it over, eyes widening along with his smile. “Disney Weddings group! Putting those amazing skills of yours to work, then. That’s fantastic, Kurt. You know, I work with them all the time. Janelle and Holly and Aiden and Todd-great bunch of people. Ever since The Swan Prince got so popular, brides tend to want the characters at their weddings.”

Of course. Because, you see, Kurt is just now beginning to learn he has the worst luck in the entire screwed up universe. He makes a quick, silent note not to tell Lenore McCafferty a single thing about the character option.

“Aren’t you breaking the cardinal rule or something?” Kurt asks, ignoring Blaine’s comments, and he knows he sounds like a complete snot at the moment, but he really doesn’t care. He can’t help but notice a few guests across the way beginning to pause and point toward the Swan Prince, readying their cameras. “By breaking character and speaking to me, or whatever.”

Blaine’s eyes widen slightly as if he’s just now realized Kurt has a point-and that is so Blaine that Kurt isn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry-but then Blaine is grabbing his elbow and pulling him across the street. “You have a point. Come with me.”

“No. Wait.” Kurt bats at his hand even as he’s dragged near the First Aid station, past a large row of hedges toward a gate marked “Cast Members Only”. “I’m late for a meeting!”

“So, since you’re already late,” Blaine replies logically, pushing the gate open and stepping inside, where the magic of the Magic Kingdom instantly falls away, much like the back lot of a movie studio. “There. Now I can’t get in trouble for not being in character. Gosh, Kurt! Have I mentioned how good it is to see you?”

And then he does it. Just wraps his arms around Kurt, pulling him in to a tight hug, and Kurt can do little but stand there stiffly, wondering if maybe Blaine hit his head at some point in the last six years and doesn’t remember the fact that they were never going to speak to one another again. Kurt hates that the man holding him smells incredibly good, or that the cheek pressed against Kurt’s neck is warm, the arms holding him strong and well-defined.

When Blaine finally lets go and steps back, Kurt makes a big show of smoothing the wrinkles from his own clothing.

“We have so much catching up to do,” Blaine continues, as if he doesn’t even notice Kurt’s obvious aloofness. “Do you want to get together for coffee or maybe grab lunch tomorrow or something? I don’t work until late afternoon tomorrow so-“

“I’m not entirely certain what gave you the impression I have any desire to get reacquainted,” Kurt finally says, quietly pleased with the cool and steady tone of his voice.

Blaine had always had this amazing ability to look like a kicked puppy when he didn’t get what he wanted. Apparently, that hasn’t changed by the wide-eyed, injured expression focused in Kurt’s direction. “But, Kurt, why wouldn’t-“ He stops then, brows furrowing slightly as realization seems to hit him. He shakes his head, looking slightly shocked. “You can’t be serious, Kurt? That was six years ago. Surely, you’re not still angry?”

“Angry?” Kurt laughs a little because, yes, he is angry, thank you very much, but it would be a bit pathetic to admit that, now wouldn’t it? “Hardly. But I honestly don’t see the necessity in our getting to know one another again. What happened was for the best, and I suggest we leave it that way. We said we’d never speak to one another again-“

“You said you’d never speak to me again.”

“And I think, in the end, the mutual dissolution of our relationship benefited the both of us.” Kurt looks up at the end of his speech to find Blaine with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the fence beside the gate, watching Kurt with an expression bordering somewhere between amusement and horror.

“You honestly believe every word you just said, don’t you?”

“Are you implying that my facts regarding the end of our relationship are distorted?”

“No. I’m flat out telling you. If that’s how you remember it, you’ve apparently lost your mind sometime in the last six years.”

Kurt bristles at the insult, lifting his chin to direct one of his haughtiest looks in Blaine’s direction. “I remember it all quite well, Blaine Anderson. You made promises to me that you never planned on keeping. Everything about you turned out to be a lie. I ask you, in what reality would I ever want to let someone like that back into my life again?”

Blaine rolls his eyes-actually rolls his eyes-at Kurt and waves a hand toward him. “Possibly the same reality you’ve created for yourself in which I’m still depicted as the monster in this relationship.” He pushes away from the fence, dropping his arms to smooth out his jacket. “The way I see it? I’m the prince here. And you? The bitchy old spinster.”

Kurt realizes he’s sputtering as Blaine yanks the gate open and disappears back into the Magic Kingdom.



“Out of all the places, why here? Why him? I mean, really, Finn. Did I do something horrible in my past that I’m now paying for?” Kurt paces across the living room of his condo, pausing to cross an arm over his chest and stare out the doors onto the terrace. “I can think of a hundred other people I’d rather be stuck working with, and that includes both Sue Sylvester and Jacob Ben Israel.”

Finn laughs on the other end of the line. “Don’t you think you’re being just a little bit dramatic, Kurt? I mean, Jacob, really?”

“I know drama, Finn. And this? Is not me being dramatic. Oh, why did I take this job?” Okay, maybe he said that a tad bit dramatically.

“Because it was the ‘opportunity of a lifetime’? Or at least, that’s what you said last time you were out here.”

“You’re not helping right now…”

Another laugh, though this one sounds slightly exasperated. “What do you want me to say, dude? I mean, honestly, if it were me and I suddenly found out I was working with Rachel, I’d be excited. It’d be cool to be able to renew our friendship.”

“Yes, I’m completely certain Quinn would be totally okay with that,” Kurt replies with sarcasm.

“Dude, hypothesis situation here-“

“I think you mean hypothetical.”

“Whatever. It’s not real. I’m just saying, even though Rachel and I haven’t been together in forever doesn’t mean I wouldn’t welcome the opportunity to see her again.”

“The two of you broke up under far better circumstances,” Kurt points out, pinching the bridge of his nose as he moves away from the window and flops onto the couch. “It was amicable. You’re still friends on Facebook.”

“Well, amic… amia… that aside, I don’t see why you can’t be friends again. The two of you were close, man.”

“Obviously we weren’t that close considering how easily he ended it,” Kurt mutters, picking at a cuticle.

There’s silence on the other end of the line; a heavy, telling silence that makes Kurt uncomfortable. He sits up straighter on the couch, settling his hand on his thigh. “Is there something you want to say, Finn?”

Some more silence and then, “It’s just… I was there that afternoon. When you kind of, well… you flipped out a little bit, dude.”

“Are you saying I didn’t have the right to do so?”

The resulting silence from that question pretty much answers it for him.

“I see. Maybe you should have alerted me six years ago to the fact that you’ve been on Blaine’s side all this time.”

“Dude! I’m not choosing sides here. And if I did, you know I’d choose yours. You’re my brother, and nothing changes that. It’s just that, you didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. You know how you are, Kurt. And yeah, I get that you were upset, and I don’t know what went down later that made it all so much worse, but I do know that day? You were being… a little bit unreasonable.”

Kurt gets to his feet to resume his pacing. “He lied to me, Finn.”

“He left out some info,” Finn corrects. “This is Blaine we’re talking about, man. Did the dude ever lie to you? Like ever, really?”

Kurt pulls a face that he knows Finn can’t see. He only does this because he knows, on this point, Finn is correct. Their relationship had never been built on lies-at least not until Blaine had begun making promises to him that he had never planned on keeping.

All right, so maybe that didn’t exactly equal lying.

“Kurt? You still there?”

“Yes, sorry.” Kurt pauses again, rubbing at his temple. He’d been looking forward to this job so much, and now he finds himself dreading it in a way. He knows he can’t spend however long he plans on working here-years-avoiding Blaine. It would be ridiculous to even try. This means that somehow, he has to try to come to terms with how things ended between them.

Six years, and Kurt still struggles to figure out how to make that happen.

“The past is the past, I guess,” he continues after a moment, not believing his own words. “What I need to focus on now is how to deal with the present. I mean, is it possible to ask him, out of professional courtesy, to never speak to me again?”

Kurt frowns when he hears Finn laughing on the other end of the line. “Dude, seriously?”

“I don’t see how any of this is even remotely amusing.”

“Maybe you just have to be on the outside to see how ridiculous you’re being. Considering it’s been six years, I’d think you’d be a little more open to putting the past behind you and that kinda stuff?” When Finn pauses, Kurt can almost feel the dread moving through him. Sure enough, his stepbrother doesn’t let him down when he says, “Oh, wow. Wait. You’re still hung up on him, aren’t you?”

Twenty-four hours ago and Kurt would have unequivocally said no to such a question. He would have said it quickly, and with conviction, and the conversation would have proceeded onward to something else. Now though, Kurt finds himself hesitating; not because he thinks he’s still in love with Blaine Anderson in any way shape or form--it’s been six years, and he can’t still be in love with Blaine--but he can’t deny that there had been something. If there is any one thing Kurt can admit about his chance encounter with his ex, it’s that Blaine still affects him, at least. There is no denying how Kurt had felt when Blaine had chased after him, how his heart had beat a bit too rapidly when Blaine had taken him in his arms, how hazel eyes and a too-easy, too-bright smile had made his legs feel a little like rubber.

“You’re still in love with him!” Finn accuses, a little too delightedly, like he can’t wait to share this news with Quinn and Burt and Carole and every single person in Lima.

“No, I’m not.”

And he isn’t. Kurt can honestly say he doesn’t know Blaine anymore, and you can’t love someone you don’t know. He had loved a boy once that very much resembled the man who’d called him a bitchy old spinster before storming back off into the land of make-believe. Not to be cliché, that was then and this is now, and Kurt isn’t lying when he says he isn’t in love with Blaine.

He’s not.



Between trying to get used to his new job, and spending the majority of his days doing whatever it takes to avoid going anywhere near Magic Kingdom (which isn’t all that easy considering every bride wants to get married there, or at least have their photo session by the castle), Kurt is exhausted, stressed and in desperate need of a spa day by the end of his first two weeks. His coworkers seem concerned, but he refuses to tell them the truth, muttering about having trouble keeping up with all of this new information, and a leftover childhood fear of giant mice wearing clothes. Janelle had giggled at that, not believing him for a second, so Kurt had quickly changed his story to include Goofy.

Seriously, why would a dog own a dog anyway? He’d asked. It’s just weird.

Kurt is, if nothing else, spectacular at distracting people.

To wind down from his first few weeks, his coworkers have invited him to meet up with them at Rising Star, a karaoke bar located at the Universal City Walk. Normally, Kurt can’t be dragged to a karaoke bar--he suffered through one too many of them during his first two years of college in New York with Rachel. She’d repeatedly dragged him to one after another, attempting to get him to sing with her, and the evenings usually ended with both sulking over their alcoholic beverages while listening to horrible singers belt out horrible songs. Around his junior year, Kurt swore to never enter a karaoke bar again.

“I take it supporting the competition is encouraged?” Kurt remarks with a smile as he meets up with Janelle and Holly next to the silver men statues and they make their way toward the Rising Star.



The thing is, though, Kurt likes what he knows of his coworkers so far. They’re an entertaining and slightly eclectic group of individuals. There’s Janelle, who’s sweet and responsible and good at what she does, and there’s just something about her that has a calming affect when he’s around her. They’ve taken to having lunch with one another and texting a lot throughout the days. She’s a ridiculously adorable size fourteen with the prettiest chestnut-colored hair Kurt’s ever seen, and there’s something about her laughter that reminds him of Rachel, and something about her sweetness that reminds him of Mercedes, and it makes Kurt alternately sad and grateful that he may have found a new close friend.

“Considering our employer doesn’t exactly encourage us lowly employees to take advantage of their own facilities…” Holly rolls her eyes and waves a small hand in dismissal. “Besides, this place is great. A lot of the cast members come here to blow off steam.”

Holly, who while certainly nice and welcoming, doesn’t appear to really want to be close to any of her coworkers. She’s friendly when she needs to be, a stone-cold bitch when she wants to be left alone, and one of the cattiest people Kurt’s met since... well, himself, honestly. He’d seen a funny little picture once of a cat sharpening its claws, and that’s what Holly reminds him of when he looks at her. She’s almost the complete opposite of Janelle--tall, reed thin, pale blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. She has a soft smile, though, and oddly enough, Kurt knows that she genuinely seems to like him. She’s been nothing but helpful since the day he arrived.

Kurt understands Holly’s comment the moment they enter. The ambiance of the bar can almost be called classy, in a drag queen’s dream kind of way, all pinks and purples and greens with the stage being the main focus, set up high above the various tables and booths. There are lights all over the stage in garish colors, and Kurt can see how anyone standing up there would end up feeling like they were truly a rock star performing for their audience. He gets a slight pang at the thought, gaze turning a bit wistful as he stares ahead before pushing thoughts of what might have been from his mind and following Holly and Janelle over to one of the bigger booths.

Aidan and Todd are already there, waving their arms above the crowd to get their attention. Kurt trails behind as they make their way over, eyes drawn once more toward the stage as a woman walks up to the mic and the strains of Britney Spears latest hit begins pouring through the speakers. Kurt’s not a big fan of her latest album-he finds it flat and uninspired. Honestly, he thinks the girl should have retired about two tours ago.

Aidan is the one coworker Kurt cannot quite put his finger on. It’s not that Kurt necessarily thinks the guy doesn’t like him; Aidan honestly doesn’t seem to like anyone. There’s something about his manner that makes him the quintessential salesman--he’s all smiles and cordial platitudes. He dresses to the nines from head to foot in Armani and Marc Jacobs. He’s handsome in a very metro-sexual way--slim, fastidiously neat, perfectly coiffed hair and manicured nails. Kurt could almost bring himself to admire the guy if it wasn’t for that certain something beneath his exterior that makes Kurt wonder what deep, dark secrets Aidan is hiding. He’s sure he’ll turn on the television one day to find out Aidan has been murdering tourists all along and burying them in his back yard. Kurt met Aidan’s trophy wife last week; he’s fairly certain she’s probably assisting her husband in their victims’ demise.

At the furthest end of the spectrum is Todd. Kurt can whole-heartedly say there’s something about the guy that reminds Kurt of Sandy Ryerson, except that Todd is generally affable and easy to get along with, even though he tends to be a bit of a gossip and ridiculously dramatic. Kurt knows Rachel Berry, and this man can teach her a thing or two about drama. Mostly, Kurt thinks, Todd reminds him of Sandy with regards to his wardrobe, which is to say it’s appropriately hideous. The brides apparently love him though; Janelle said Todd is the most requested coordinator among the group, and that his sales quota each year is ridiculous. When she’d said it, she’d given him a little wink, saying she had no doubt that by this time next year, Kurt would be giving Todd a run for his money. To be honest, Kurt isn’t entirely certain of that. For as campy as Todd appears on the surface, he’s very good at what he does. Kurt’s glanced through his portfolio, and can admit to waves of jealousy over the creative eye and flare for the visual that Todd has when it comes to coordinating Disney weddings. If Kurt were to put a style to it, he’d have to say Todd’s vision is a cross between Tim Burton and Martha Stewart--a frightening combination at the onset, but Todd makes it work.

“I see you brought the new guy,” Aidan calls out, sliding over to make room in the booth for the others.

Kurt lets Janelle and Holly crowd in ahead of him before he takes the end seat. Todd is directly across from him, drinking something decidedly pink that actually perfectly matches the scarf around his neck. For some reason, the very sight of it amuses Kurt to no end.

“So new guy,” Aidan begins, leaning past the girls and yelling over the top of the very bad singer on the stage. She’s actually screeching at times, and Kurt winces reflexively. “How goes the wedding biz so far?”

“There’s a lot to learn,” Kurt replies just as loudly, pausing to order a Cosmopolitan when the waitress stopped by, before turning back to his coworker. “I’ve got a meeting set up with the McCaffertys on Monday, and the very idea makes me nauseous.”

“Kurt’s afraid he’s going to get lost while showing them around the property,” Janelle points out, waving at someone on the other side of the bar.

Aidan shakes his head. “We’ve all been there. Just keep our numbers handy in your phone, and if something begins to go wrong, send out a 9-1-1. One of us will be there to help you get past it.”

“If nothing else, Melinda can set off the fire alarm from the front desk,” Todd offers helpfully.

“One of our interns totally did that last summer,” Holly adds.

Janelle reaches out and lays her hand on Kurt’s arm. “You’ll be fine, really. Just ask the standard questions I’ve gone over with you, and let the bride-to-be do the talking. Take plenty of notes. This one will be easy because the sky is pretty much the limit. There won’t be a need for you to sit there and watch the reaction of her parents to figure out how much you’ll be able to get away with it. If she can imagine it, you can make it happen.”

“Except for making Pluto talk,” Todd remarks dryly, lifting an eyebrow when Kurt glances over at him. “No, seriously. I had this bride two years ago who said Pluto was her favorite, and she wanted the character to come to her reception and make a comment as to how beautiful the bride was. And I was like, but Pluto doesn’t talk, and how can he possibly be your favorite if you don’t know that?”

“What happened?” Kurt asks.

“Luckily her dad said he wasn’t paying the extra seven hundred dollars for a character appearance and that was that.” Todd takes a sip of his ridiculously pink beverage. “Saved by a tightwad of a father. It happens a lot, you know.”

“Yes, that’s something to remember,” Aidan says with a nod. “If the demands start to get a little bit over the top, just start adding a price tag to everything - like if she says ‘I want this’, you nod and write it down and say it will cost this, and so on and so forth. Eventually every father’s-including Senator McCafferty’s-eyes bug out of their heads, they shift uncomfortably in their chair, and begin with the ‘now, honey, I know this wedding is important to you, but…’. It works like a charm.”

Kurt’s head swims a little as his coworkers begin discussing the worst weddings they’d ever had to deal with through Disney. Most of them are the typical bridezilla type horror stories, except with a lot more money attached to the package. Kurt shares a few from his time spent in New York-from the weddings he planned while in college to those in the proceeding time after. He even tells them a little bit about his dad’s wedding, and the fact that his friend Rachel had threatened to call PETA on him for wanting to feed the doves glitter. That story sent his coworkers into tears from laughter for the next five minutes.

Soon they’ve ordered their second round of drinks, and Kurt isn’t certain if it’s just him or the karaoke is actually getting worse. Maybe he just spent far too much time participating in such activities with actual singers, as opposed to drunk tourists tired after having spent a day drinking Butterbeer at Wizarding World. Janelle and Holly both seem quite happy to join in on his snark with him as Kurt proceeds to criticize every person who steps up to the mic. His diatribe only comes to an end when Aidan interrupts.

“Hey look, it’s the Pretty People,” Aidan remarks as he takes a sip of his rum and coke.

Kurt turns slightly in his seat, trying to see what Aidan is referring to, but doesn’t see too much in the crowd. The door to the bar has clearly opened, and he can see a group of about a half dozen or more people enter. More patrons end up getting in the way, though, so Kurt turns away.

Todd sits, patting frantically at his hair. “Oh, god. Is my boy with them? Please tell me my boy is with them. I think tonight is the night! I will get him drunk enough to forget his own name! And then I will throw him into my trunk, take him home, tie him up and do all kinds of unspeakable things to that delectable body of his.”

“Jesus, Todd. TMI.” Holly rolls her eyes as she finishes off her drink.

“Todd’s completely crazy about one of the princes,” Janelle leans in to tell Kurt. “Well, we all are. But Todd is at that point of borderline obsession. I’m a little worried honestly.”

“Oh, hush, Janny,” Todd berates with a pout. “It’s not like I’ve purchased any Roofies or anything. A boy can hope, can’t he?”

“Well, start hoping,” Aidan breaks in as Kurt takes a sip of his Cosmo, “because there’s our beloved Swan Prince now.”

Kurt spits half the mouthful of his drink back into his glass at Aidan’s words. Wait, wait. There’s more than one Swan Prince, right? He turns wide eyes upwards just as the group that recently entered the bar appears at their table, and sure enough, right in the front center-as if he’s naturally drawn to that spot-is Blaine, smiling down at Kurt like he’d planned this or something.

“Hello, Disney Wedding group,” Blaine greets with a broad smile, gaze sweeping over the table.

Across from Kurt, Todd appears to actually be swooning. Kurt pulls a face as he watches him.

“Hello yourself, Pretty People,” Holly replies.

Kurt finds himself understanding why his coworkers refer to the group as such-it’s not just Blaine, it’s all of the performers standing before them. He recognizes Princes Charming and Naveen, Aladdin and a taller guy in the back he figures probably hides under the Beast costume. Cinderella, Ariel, Tiana and Belle are scattered among them, Ariel far prettier out of her obviously fake wig. They’re all gorgeous people, with perfect complexions, bright smiles and large eyes, and it’s almost disgusting to Kurt how well Blaine seems to fit among them, the only outstanding feature seeming to be that he’s closer to the height of the women than he is the men. Kurt tries to ignore the fact that he’d always kind of adored that about him. No matter how small Blaine was in stature compared to most, he always seemed to stand out. Even with this group that aspect obviously hasn’t changed at all, especially considering the way Kurt’s very own coworkers seem to be fawning over him.

Kurt is pulled from his thoughts as Tiana immediately makes herself right at home, shoving at him to move inward so she can sit beside him. “I’m Angel,” she greets, holding out her hand. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I’m-“

“Kurt Hummel,” Blaine introduces for him, flashing a quick smile.

Kurt instantly feels the eyes of his four coworkers swing toward him. He ignores Blaine as he takes Angel’s hand-though he thinks she’ll always be Tiana to him-and shakes it.

“So wait, you two know each other?” Of course it’s Todd who’s asking. Todd, who Kurt can already feel leveling an accessing gaze in his direction.

Just as Kurt begins to shake his head and reply with some kind of answer that makes it sound as if they’re barely acquaintances, Blaine replies, “Since high school, actually-“

“We haven’t seen each other in years,” Kurt cuts in.

“We were best friends-“

“We were both in glee.”

Kurt’s almost certain Blaine is about to up the ante-perhaps by expressing the fact that they were once boyfriends-when Janelle blessedly (or less than so) asks, “You sing, Kurt?”

“He’s a countertenor,” Blaine answers for him, and if they were closer Kurt is quite certain he would have kicked his ex by now. Blaine is looking at the other performers around him. “Amazingly beautiful voice. The first time I heard him sing he did Don’t Cry for Me Argentina. Almost brought me to tears.”

Kurt doesn’t know what Blaine is playing at, but he certainly doesn’t like it. What right does he have to bring up the very distant past that way? The last thing Kurt ever wants to remember is his time at Dalton, or their time together. His coworkers are still watching him, like he’s some new kind of mystery for them to solve. He gives them all a forced smile.

“It was a very long time ago,” he says. “I haven’t sung in years.”

“Oh! You need to do karaoke!” Tiana claps beside him suddenly.

“Yeah, Kurt,” Todd comments from across the table, a smirk appearing. “You should do karaoke. In fact, you and Blaine should do a duet, since you used to sing together.”

The others begin to chime in, and Blaine, damn him all to hell is nodding enthusiastically, and smiling down at Kurt, eyes glittering in challenge.

Kurt wants to say no. It’s on the tip of his tongue to say no. He hasn’t sung in years in front of another person. Sometimes in the shower or the car, sure, but on stage? In front of a couple hundred people? No. He can’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it, and he certainly doesn’t want to do it with Blaine, of all people.

He’d say no, too, if Blaine didn’t look so damn smug about it; like he is just expecting Kurt to not do it.

Drumming his fingers on the table for a moment, Kurt says finally, “I get to choose the song.”

Blaine looks ridiculously pleased, the bastard. “Of course.” He steps back, extending an arm forward as Tiana quickly scrambles out of her seat to let Kurt get up.

His coworkers are all clapping and hollering encouragement as Kurt gets to his feet and steps past Blaine, pointedly not looking at him as he makes his way toward the stage. He can feel Blaine following though, the sounds of their coworkers’ enthusiasm fading only slightly behind. There’s a group of three drunken frat boys on the stage currently, badly belting out Friends in Low Places. Kurt pauses at the catalogue, glancing through the song choices as he feels Blaine hovering at his side.

“I didn’t think it possible to hate you more, you know,” Kurt remarks without looking up. “But apparently I was wrong.”

“You’re still sore because I called you a spinster.”

“No, Blaine,” Kurt replies as he glances up at him. “I’m still sore because you exist. I’m still sore because you didn’t blink into oblivion the moment you walked out of my life.”

“Ouch.” Blaine lays a hand over his heart and pouts, achieving both adorableness and obnoxiousness all at once.

He hasn’t changed at all.

“The kitten still has claws, I see.”

Sighing and shaking his head, Kurt chooses his song, typing in the number so that it will be the next to play before turning and facing Blaine. He crosses his arms over his chest and smiles. “Look, you’re free to flaunt that charming act around the cast members all you want to, but let’s at least be honest with one another and acknowledge that that’s all it is-an act. Not for one moment do I believe you’re any different from the boy I knew in Lima, and I’m not buying the bullshit that you’re Mr. Sunshine and Rainbows, Disney’s most perfect prince, or whatever it is our coworkers over there seem to believe.” Kurt leans in close and tells him, “You seem to forget that I know you, no matter how many years it’s been.”

Blaine stares up at him silently for a long moment, his expression mostly unreadable, other than the slight furrowing of his brow. Finally, he smiles just a little bit. “I’m counting on it, actually.”

Kurt doesn’t even know what to think of that response. Flashing his ex a glare, he turns and makes his way over to the steps that lead on to the stage as the previous performers take their final bows and exit the opposite direction. Grabbing the nearest mic, Kurt takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and forces a bright smile out toward his coworkers as he hears them cheering. He can see Janelle and Holly sitting up on the back of the booth, waving their hands in the air.

“I think a lot of you already know me,” Blaine is speaking into the mic, having already neatly slid into what Kurt used to refer to as his ‘game show host’ persona. If Kurt had a bat, he’d currently be beating him over the head with it. “I’d like to introduce you all to an old friend of mine from high school, Kurt Hummel.” There are applause, and more cheering from the booth toward the back. “I believe he’s chosen a song for us to perform for you tonight….”

Kurt can feel Blaine looking at him curiously, and he continues to ignore him, smiling out at the crowd as he waits for the song to begin playing. As soon as the first notes can be heard, Kurt finally glances over at his ex; there’s a momentary widening of his eyes, and then Blaine is grinning and shaking his head, and flushing slightly as the crowd erupts into cheers of recognition.

“At first I was afraid, I was petrified,” Kurt sings, putting every ounce of rage he is feeling at the man standing beside him into the song. “Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side. But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong, and I learned how to get along.

“And so you’re back. From outer space. I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face. I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key, if I’d have known for just one second you’d be back to bother me.”

Kurt points a finger toward Blaine, really getting into the song now as the audience begins clapping along. “ Go on now go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, 'cause you're not welcome anymore! Weren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbye? Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I! I will survive! Oh as long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive. I've got all my life to live and I've got all my love to give, and I'll survive! I will survive! Hey! Hey!”

As the audience continues clapping and shouting out words of encouragement, Kurt finds himself moving to the music, somewhat throwing down his own challenge as he looks over at Blaine, shaking his hips. Blaine rolls his eyes playfully and dances right into the spotlight as he takes up the next verse.

“It took all the strength I had not to fall apart. Kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart. And I spent oh so many nights just feeling sorry for myself, I used to cry… But now I hold my head up high! And you see me! Somebody new! I'm not that chained up little person still in love with you. And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free, but now I'm saving all my loving for someone who's loving me!”

Kurt continues dancing off to the side, unable to stop watching as Blaine slides into the chorus, adding in the little spins and hops that had always seemed to be his trademark. Blaine had always had a way of emoting through a song only matched by one Rachel Berry, and it is both comforting and annoying to see that part of him hasn’t changed. If Kurt has just affected the audience with the emotion in his voice, Blaine is currently doing it with his expressions and dramatic gestures.

And as always, the crowd is eating it up.

As the bridge begins, Kurt finds Blaine looking at him, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement, and Kurt nods his head only slightly as they both step into the spotlight and finish up the last chorus together.

“Go on now go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, 'cause you're not welcome anymore! Weren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbye? Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I! I will survive! Oh as long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive. I've got all my life to live and I've got all my love to give, and I'll survive! I will survive! I will survive!”

Kurt isn’t surprised that by the end of their song, the entire place is on its feet. He and Blaine had always been an incredible match vocally, and apparently the years haven’t changed that. As they take their bows, Kurt hears Blaine ask, “So, did you get all of your rage out?”

Smiling as he curtsies, Kurt responds, “If you believe that, you don’t know me very well at all.”



“You look like you could use these.”

Kurt glances up to find Todd standing over him in an eye-popping outfit of bright yellow from head to toe. It causes Kurt’s eyes to ache even more than they already do, and he winces slightly, snatching the bottle of Tylenol from his co-worker's hand as Todd laughs and drops into the chair across from his desk.

“Interesting night last night, wouldn’t you say?” Todd asks, examining his nails as Kurt pops the bottle open and swallows down three pills with some of his bottled water. “Although,” Todd holds his hand out, fingers splayed in front of him as he seems to critically regard his cuticles, “I get the feeling the most interesting pieces were left unsaid.”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “You do realize that you’re dressed like Big Bird, don’t you?”

“Rowr!” Todd replies, curling his fingers. “Kitten’s got claws.”

“I’ve got work to do,” Kurt dismisses him, turning his gaze to his monitor, which he just realizes he hasn’t even turned on yet.

“I want the scoop, Hummel,” Todd says, cutting right to the chase as he leans forward in his chair. “So stop playing around. You and Blaine weren’t just friends in high school. If that wasn’t obvious from the rather tortuous cover of Miss Gaynor’s classic by the two of you, then it certainly was from the moon-eyes my future sex slave was sending in your direction while he sang songs of lover’s lament the rest of the night.”

Honestly, that isn’t much of an exaggeration. Blaine had sung four more songs solo throughout the night, in between shots of Tequila that they had all been doing together, and truthfully, Kurt is far more embarrassed now that he thinks about it than he had been the night before. He blames it on how drunk he had allowed himself to get, and that maybe a little teensy, weensy part of him had missed Blaine Anderson singing to him. Luckily, even Blaine seemed to have realized at some point that he’d been overdoing it, and ended the night on a high note, leading the entire bar in a rather ridiculous rendition of Hakuna Matata.

When they’d left the Rising Star, sometime after two in the morning, Kurt had caught Blaine staring at him from across the parking lot. He’d tried to ignore him, especially when Aidan had walked up beside him on his way to his car and commented, “Going home alone, Hummel? How tragic.”

By the time he’d made it back to his condo, he had over fourteen texts from Janelle and Todd, demanding to know the scoop. Kurt had turned off his phone, ignoring every single one of their questions, and fallen into bed, fully clothed. It had been one of those nights.

So dealing with Todd and his questions this morning, on top of the fact that Todd apparently thinks Blaine is all that and two dozen bags of chips, has Kurt in a worse mood than he initially had been on waking. Which is to say, fairly rotten considering he hasn’t suffered a hang-over like this since his first semester in college.

“You’re not planning on sharing, are you?” Todd is eying him a bit dangerously now, as if he’s quite prepared to steal Kurt’s phone away, rummage through his contact list, and begin questioning every person Kurt has ever known.

Kurt wonders if he’s quite hung over enough to puke all over the atrocity that is Todd’s ensemble. “There’s nothing to share,” Kurt reiterates, pulling a desk drawer open to grab a file-any file-and stand, swaying just a little as the room spins to march over to his file cabinet. He doesn’t know what he’s holding in his hand or what section he’s currently shoving in to, he just wants to look busy, and avoid this discussion as long as possible.

When he turns back around, Todd is facing him, expression all assessing, plotting, well-manicured nails tapping against the back of the chair. He stands, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his yellow trousers. “Very well. If you’re not going to share with me, I’m just going to have to gather my troops and begin a full frontal assault. Let’s see how well you withstand direct attacks from Janelle and Holly, hmmm?”

Luckily, Holly seems rather uninterested. Or it could be some form of a plan of attack she’s staging. Kurt isn’t entirely certain. She mentions in passing as she pauses in the doorway to his office later that morning how Blaine is rather good-looking, and everyone who works at the property is in love with him. She doesn’t say much else, just stares at Kurt as he stares back at her, hoping he’s affecting the proper withering gaze he wishes to get across, but he’s fairly certain he’s failed when she flashes him a small, bright smile and continues on her way.

Unfortunately, it’s Janelle who Kurt has trouble withstanding. Janelle who takes him to lunch at off-property at Panera, where Kurt orders the strawberry poppyseed and chicken salad, and sits with his salad and tea next to the window while Janelle slides into the chair across from him, a steaming bowl of French onion soup and half a turkey artichoke sandwich on her tray. As she doesn’t say anything at first, taking a sip of her diet coke and pulling off a piece of her baguette to dip into her soup, Kurt relaxes somewhat and begins eating his salad. After spending the majority of the morning feeling dreadful, the fresh blueberries and flavorful chicken are ridiculously refreshing.

“Small world.”

“Hmm?” Kurt glances up from his salad to find Janelle with her elbows on the table, taking a small bite of her sandwich.

She chews and licks and her lips and says again, “Small world. You running into your high school sweetheart and all that.”

Well, hell. Making a face, Kurt stabs at a strawberry a little harder than necessary. “Yes... well. Whatever.”

Janelle looks like she’s talking about the rising humidity in the air over the last few days as she comments, “He’s very popular around here. Blaine. They call him ‘Mouseketeer’.”

“They?” Kurt arches a brow, but keeps his gaze focused on the rather large salad in front of him. He shouldn’t be asking; he shouldn’t even be curious. But then, Kurt Hummel’s done rather stupid stuff in the past.

“Everyone.” Janelle sets her sandwich down and picks up her spoon, dipping it into the cheese-covered broth. “From the floral department to any one of our many Mickey’s. I honestly don’t think I’ve ran into anyone who doesn’t at least know of Blaine Anderson.”

Quietly setting his fork to the side of the bowl, Kurt crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his seat. He eyes Janelle with one of his most fierce glares. Sadly, he sees amusement dance in her dark eyes before she focuses on her lunch. Sighing, Kurt looks away, pursing his lips just slightly as he wonders what it is he can tell her that will appease her curiosity without giving her the full scoop on a relationship he’d rather pretend never existed.

“I’m not entirely surprised to hear that,” Kurt says after a moment, reaching up to smooth a hair in his bangs back into place. “Blaine claims he spent most of his life unpopular. I never had the chance to see such a thing.”

He sighs, the words coming a little bit easier as he glances back over at Janelle. “When I met him, he referred to himself and the a Capella group he was in as ‘rock stars’. I’d thought he was exaggerating a bit, but he wasn’t. After I joined, I quickly realized that it wasn’t so much the Warblers as it was Blaine that the other students flocked to see perform. I was... jealous. Envious. Who wouldn’t be? I spent most of my life doing the most outrageous things to get the attention that people just seemed inclined to throw at Blaine. When he walked into a room, people looked at him. Really looked. Even when he was trying not to be noticed. Knowing that hasn’t changed?” Kurt shrugs. “I wish I could say I was shocked.”

He examines his nails for a moment, hoping it appears to Janelle that he’s far more interested in the need for a manicure than talking about the boy who had changed his life more than once. “It wasn’t just Dalton. He transferred to McKinley with me our senior year and he,” Kurt shook his head, smiling slightly, “actually worried about not making friends. Admittedly, I found myself suffering from random bouts of jealousy all over again. And pride. I loved that my friends loved him. That he made friends with people who hadn’t said a word to me in my four years at McKinley. After all, I was the one who’s hand he held walking down the halls. I was the one he sang to and laughed with and learned with and--”

Kurt abruptly cuts himself off as the memories begin assailing him. He hasn’t thought about Blaine, and him and Blaine, like this in years. It’s so overwhelming his chest feels tight, and he has to stop and just breathe because it hurts, because it hasn’t hurt this much in a long time. Kurt reaches out for his fork once more, picking it up and playing with the brightly colored salad, poking at a piece of pineapple that he knows is juicy and sweet but can’t quite bring himself to eat at the moment.

“I’m sorry.”

When Kurt looks at Janelle, her eyes are huge and round, and just a little bit shinier than they should be. His resolve remains steely, and he looks back down at his lunch, catching some chicken, lettuce and an orange slice between the tongs and shoving it into his mouth. It’s somehow blander than the earlier bites.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice too soft and too caring. “I hadn’t realized. I thought... well, high school romances and all, I wouldn’t have pried if... well, if I had realized you were so in love.”

Kurt has trouble not choking on the bite as he swallows, fingers tightening around the stem of his fork. He forces a smile as he glances over at her. “It was a long time ago,” he tells her. “How is your sandwich? Normally I’m not a fan of the empty calories sandwiches tend to provide, but that artichoke spread looks heavenly.”

Kurt’s favorite thing about Janelle: she’s a smart woman. She takes the hint for what it is, and Blaine isn’t mentioned again the rest of the day.