Chapter One

Kurt's POV

Today is guaranteed to be dreadful. It's the one day I've been hoping wouldn't happen since I left McKinley: returning there. See, today's the day of the McKinley high school reunion. I mean, why would anyone want to go back to the place where they we tortured for years? I'll get to see my friends from New Directions again, which should be nice. I do miss them: especially Mercedes. We promised each other that we'd stay in touch after high school; but in truth, I haven't seen her since graduation. It's strange, isn't it, how even the closest of friends can drift apart. And then there's...him.

"Kurt? You okay, buddy?" I broke out of my daze and saw James staring straight at me inquisitively.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" I replied with a feeble attempt at nonchalance.

"You kind of seem a bit...distracted today. You were excited about decorating this jacket yesterday!"

James is shadowing me for a while, until he finds his feet in the fashion industry. He's a nice kid: eager. I had to tell him that coming home with me wasn't part of his job description. His warm chocolate eyes show his excitement every second. He usually does this thing with his hair that fluffs it up at the front, but today his ashy blond hair lies flat and neat. He dresses immaculately – well, he does now, after my intense training on 'how to wear a cravat appropriately' along with my other conversations and subtle hints.

"I'm just...thinking." Please don't ask, please. I knew I'd made a mistake as I said this.

"About what?" Damn. Now I have to think of something, fast.

"About..." he could see my desperation, "...whether cobalt is the right shade for this jacket." Of course it is, cobalt jackets are genius. I signal for James to hand me the silver ribbon and walk to the mannequin where my latest masterpiece stood. After placing the pins in the iridescent blue sleeve, I turned to face James: his usually calm eyes still analysing me through the silence.

I smiled, "Right, how about a coffee?"

Blaine's POV

Why am I still in bed? My alarm went off like 15 minutes ago. I just don't want to move today. I just watch the hazy morning sun dance through my window and silently curse how optimistic it is. I bury my face in my soft pillow and exhale. I hate mornings.

"Blaine!"

I groan as my usual wake-up call knocked on my door. "What?" I say, muffled by the pillow.

I heard the creek of the door opening followed by the sound of it clicking shut. The strong footsteps moving in some kind of direction, hard to tell, seemed to thud against the floorboards. The heat between my pillow and face was almost unbearable, but even that is better than facing the morning.

"Is this what you're going to wear?"

"To what?" I mumbled into the soft cotton case underneath me. The breath from those words caused my face to overheat: still so not worth moving though.

"You're joking right? It's all you've been talking about for days. You practically begged for me to come with you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I swear my face is breaking out into tiny beads of sweat. All I got in response was a sigh. After deliberating for a moment I decided to look up and as I did the hazy sunlight offended me. My eyes then fixed on the tall male figure staring at me in loveable astonishment.