Author's Note: Hey everyone, I recently moved and some real life stuff has made it harder for me to write as quickly as I used to. But I finally got an idea that I just couldn't let go. I really enjoyed writing this story. Being in an 'alternate universe' gave me the freedom to make so many little references to the world we know. I hope you enjoy them all! And this should come across, but just to be clear: this story takes place a few years in the future, in a world where Kurt never spied on the Warblers and he and Blaine never really met. At least until now. As always, please feel free to be my friend at ridgelessridgeback. tumblr .com :)

The metal pin jabbed through the fabric. Kurt winced, even though it hadn't physically pricked them.

"Can you be a little more careful?" he whispered. "This is vintage McQueen."

"I'm so sorry." The assistant trembled as she spoke, undoing the damage and smoothing the microphone to his chest with tape instead. "I'm a little nervous, to be honest. I'm a big fan of The Kurtsies."

Well. Suddenly he felt more forgiving. "Why thank you! Say, would you like an autograph?"

She turned pink. "Oh no. I just couldn't, Mr. Hummel!"

"Nonsense." Kurt plucked a silver sharpie out of his back jeans pocket. "Lauren!"

A headshot appeared from over his shoulder. "You're the best, Lauren," he called out as he signed it with a flourish.

"I know, Sweetcheeks," she replied, her voice fading as she sauntered back offstage.

"M-my name is Suzy Pepper," the assistant stammered. Kurt wrote her name in large, flowing letters. To Suzy Pepper, much love! As an afterthought, he scribbled a small chili pepper as well. Autographs were all about the personal touches.

She took the picture from him, tenderly holding it only by the edges to avoid smudging. "Thank you so much, Mr. Hummel. thank you! I'll treasure it forever!" Just then, the sound system sprang to life, indicating that they were about to begin. Suzy fled the stage, holding the autograph high in front of her as she ran.

He leaned back in the unstable folding chair they had given him to sit in. He looked over at three of his favorite people, the other members of the band he had formed once they graduated from high school. And then he looked down at the reporters who were flooding into the auditorium. Rolling Stone. Vibe. Billboard. Time. All the magazines he grew up quoting, and now they were gathered here to quote him.

Kurt Hummel loved being famous.

It was still at least another thirty minutes before the press session got underway. Considering how long journalism had existed, it was almost impressive to Kurt that these things still never started on time. He was able to kick a dozing Finn back awake at least four more times before a mild-mannered man tapped at the podium and the crowd settled down. The moderator began to recite from a note card.

"Greetings to all. Welcome to The Kurtsies Q & A, brought to you by Chevrolet and Fox Records. The Kurtsies are still new to the music scene, but in three short years they have already become a worldwide pop sensation. Many compare the vocals of Kurt Hummel to that of a young Freddie Mercury, and the group's poignant yet catchy songwriting has kept their singles on the top of the charts. Now that their third album, Losers Like Us, has hit multi-platinum, we have gathered them here to discuss their success and future with members of the media. Please welcome: Finn Hudson, drummer, Sam Evans, guitarist, Tina Cohen-Chang, keyboardist, and Kurt Hummel, lead vocalist and songwriter for The Kurtsies!"

They stood and accepted the soaring applause. Kurt was pleased with the intro. After all, he wrote it. There could have been a little more enthusiasm, but not everyone was born with a flair for the dramatic. Kurt counted to twenty, careful not to stand too long else they think him self-absorbed. Which he was, but he didn't want them to know that..

The interrogation always began easily enough: When was the tour starting (Fall), were there any upcoming collaborations (Mika and P!nk), what does Kurt do to protect his voice (warm milk before bed), is it true Sam's little sister and brother are forming a band (yes they practice after school), are Kurt and Finn's parents proud of their success (very much so).

But they always saved one awkward question per person to deliver right at the end, and this time was no different.

"Sam, Dakota Stanley here from PlayGirl. We'd like to feature you as a centerfold. What do you say?"

"Um, sure?" he replied, a bit taken back by the instantaneous cheer from the crowd. He whispered to Kurt, "I can keep my underwear on, right?" Kurt patted his leg. They'd have a conversation about this later.

"Tina! How do you feel about your fiance touring in Europe with Miley Cyrus? Do you trust him in such close quarters with her and her female dancers?"

She snorted. "Of course I do! He's going to be too tired to cheat." The crowd chuckled quietly as they recorded her answer in their notebooks and cell phones. "Besides, one of my best friends is touring with him so I know they'll look out for each other."

"Finn Hudson, now that The Kurtsies have proven themselves, will you once again be rekindling your romance with legendary songstress Rachel Berry?"

Now that was just harsh; everyone in the room knew that Rachel was currently dating Jesse St. James. Again. Kurt wondered how many more years she was going to bounce between the two of them. Finn's emotional walls were well practiced at this point, but he still wasn't the greatest actor.

"I haven't spoken to Rachel in awhile," he answered. "So I have no further comments on that issue." At least, not any that he'd make publicly, but the band was sure to get an earful back in the limo now that it had been brought up yet again.

"Kurt Hummel!" It was Jacob, an internet blogger who had become notoriously famous despite being obnoxious and having wild hair. Kurt sat up eagerly. Finally! He hoped the question would be about his fashion sense, or his latest donation to charity. Or maybe they would ask him what inspired their hit single "Pavarotti." Nobody had asked him about that one yet.

"What do you think about Blaine and the Pips?" Jacob asked.

A less professional man might have shown his disgust immediately, but not Kurt Hummel. He had been practicing his interview faces in the mirror since high school. And besides, he was good at getting most of his aggression out in private. Usually by throwing chairs around hotel rooms while buzzed on white wine.

"I'm okay with Blaine and the Pips." Okay with them prancing off of a very high cliff, in fact.

"Their debut album has been heavily compared with your most recent," the afro man was saying. As if Kurt didn't already know that. "How do you feel about another gay man coming onto the pop music scene just as The Kurtsies are taking off?"

"I don't see why the success of one band has anything to do with another," Kurt said airily. Don't throw a fit on camera, he thought. He just had to pretend he didn't care. Just until he could go home and scream what he really felt into his down-filled pillows.

Besides, to admit how much Blaine Anderson pissed him off would be admitting that he was worth Kurt's time. And he absolutely wasn't. That shallow copycat, with his cheesy lyrics and basic dance moves was not worth a single second of it.

"Seventeen Magazine has pitted you and Blaine Anderson against each other in their latest online poll for favorite singer. Currently he's leading by two percent! So do you feel threatened by him, Kurt?"

Threatened? Threatened by someone who was barely 5' 7"? Who danced like a ten year old suffering a sugar seizure? And he was actually leading the polls? That was just going too far. Kurt would have to deal with the consequences later, because there were some things in life worth fighting for.

"My honest opinion, if I may?" Out of the corner of his eye Finn was shaking his head, but there was no going back now. "Boy bands are so last decade. I'm not one who will argue against attractive men dancing together provocatively on camera. But what they do isn't true art."

"So what would make Blaine Anderson a true artist in your eyes?" a woman asked.

"To start off with, he and his boys should learn to play a few instruments," Kurt said, disdainfully examining his own nails. "Singing without playing your own songs is for glee choirs. Every member of The Kurtsies can play an instrument and sing."

"Now that seems a little hypocritical, don't you think?" Dakota asked. "What instrument do you play, then?" The crowd looked up from their media, intensely anticipating an answer.

"I'm actually quite dangerous on the clarinet," Kurt replied. "But our music has feeling behind it; my voice and my words are all I need to play with the hearts of our audience."

They oohed in appreciation as they jotted down his response. Flashes burned Kurt's eyes as every photographer hurried to snap the smug look he had forgotten to repress. In that moment, he felt extremely proud of himself for stating how he really felt. But that feeling didn't last for long.

"You shouldn't have done that," Tina lightly chided as they walked back to the limo.

"They're lucky that's all I said about that talentless hack!" Kurt took a deep breath, relaxing his face in case the paparazzi was following. "Seriously. How could they compare them to us? Those Pips are positively sophomoric."

"They probably don't like our band much either," Finn said. "After all, the press isn't letting anyone forget that as kids we beat them in high school Glee Sectionals."

"And who would have thought they'd ever be famous? They didn't make any impression on me at the time." That wasn't entirely true. Actually, Kurt had thought the lead singer of the Warblers was kind of cute. He had spent a few weeks after the competition stalking him online, but besides his name he wasn't able to find much. And since New Directions had won, he had no legitimate excuse to pursue a friendship (or anything else). So it was that Kurt forgot all about Blaine Anderson until last year, when the punk and his little back up dancers had arrived on the scene with suspiciously similar tunes and much inferior stage performance.

"I'm gonna say 'I told you so' right now," Tina said. "You're going to regret sassing about Blaine and the Pips. Anything they do to get back at you is only going to make this whole thing worse."

Kurt whined and pressed his head into the back of Sam's hoodie. Sam would take his side, at least.

"I thought it was cool," Sam said. "Like Iron Man. You guys remember that movie? At the end, Tony Stark is supposed to be politically correct and not tell everyone that he's a superhero, but he just says fuck you to the press: 'I'm Iron Man.' Totally badass. Just like Kurt."

Kurt smiled. See? So reliable. "Well, it wasn't that extreme," Kurt said. "But if they keep getting in my face, I'll gladly tell the press to fuck off. And Blaine Anderson too, while I'm at it!"

Next Chapter: Tina gets to say "I told you so." Kurt gets drunk. Blaine gets even. (And while I know I'm notoriously slow at updating some fics, it might comfort you to know this one is already 10k. Updates should be coming faster ;p )