Author's note: Oh my gosh! I ACTUALLY HAD THE GUTS TO POST THIS. Thanks for the courage, Blaine. Anyway, I hope you like it, and I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the characters. I probably never will.

Day 0: Meeting Blaine Anderson

Kurt Hummel was a god to those in the fashion industry. He was someone to be admired, to be idolized. People from everywhere loved his designs and bought them for high prices.

There was no denying it; Kurt Hummel truly made it to the top. He made it, from a gay kid bullied every day, to a rich and successful man who had his own designer brand. He was famous, and he was talented.

Even though Kurt Hummel was a god to those in the fashion industry, he was the complete opposite to those who worked for him. Those who worked for him absolutely hated him.

"Good morning Mr. Hummel," a girl said.

"What's good about the morning, Ciara?" Kurt asked.

Ciara, used to how Kurt spoke to her, immediately replied. "Well, the fabrics that you ordered are here, Mr. Hummel. Also, Mr. Hart called and confirmed your reservation for your fashion show next month."

"Good."

They reached wooden doors, and without a word, they each pushed a door. Kurt walked in the hallway with a purpose, his boots tapping against the marble floors.

"I'll go now Mr. Hummel," Ciara said. He ignored her as usual and walked to his office where he was shocked to see Mercedes, his manager.

He smiled. "Hello Mercedes. What brings you here?"

"Hello Kurt." She took out a pen and a pad of paper. "I heard that your fashion show next month is a go."

"It is."

"Then how come you haven't come to me and told me about the details?" Mercedes demanded.

"I only knew since this morning!" Kurt defended. "I don't even have any details planned yet. All I know is the location, and the collection I'll be using for the fashion show, nothing more. I don't even have models yet."

Mercedes' eyebrow rose. "You have no models?"

"Not yet. I'll start looking for models today," Kurt said.

"Say no more. I'll bring them to you. How many models do you need?"

"I'll need about ten models," Kurt said.

"Consider it done," Mercedes replied.

"When will I get the list of models you'll have for me?" Kurt asked.

"You'll get it this afternoon. I'll bring the models along so you can meet them, judge them, and determine which clothing's best for them. Also, I'm warning you now that you can't change your models, no matter how much you hate them, or how much their clothing combination sucks, okay? I will not waste my time looking for a model you will ultimately reject."

Kurt laughed. "That was one time, Mercedes. He had bad odor. I'm pretty sure that if I let him go on the runway, people would faint, row by row."

"Well, I'll just be sure to choose guys who don't have bad odor then. Okay?"

Kurt nodded. "Okay."

Mercedes smiled at him one last time before she pushed one of the glass doors and got out. Kurt smiled, and started checking his emails. One email caught his eye, and after he read it, his smile quickly turned into pursed lips. He received an email from his boyfri—sorry, ex boyfriend, who broke up with him using an email. Kurt blinked away tears. He didn't care that much for the guy and true, their relationship was caging him, but he was sad nonetheless. When would he find someone with who he would be happy to be in a relationship with?

His day got worse when, at lunch, his soup spilled on his shirt because of a waiter who knocked onto his table. His day got even worse when his car wouldn't start, and he had to take a taxi back to his office. He hated taxis.

His door opened loudly, and he looked up from his desk to see Mercedes, smiling like she found gold.

"Mercedes, back so soon?"

She sat at one of the two chairs located on the front of his desk. "What can I say? I'm a good model hunter."

Kurt's eyes widened. "You found models already? I wasn't expecting you to make good on your word. I was hell bent on thinking that you wouldn't have models for me until at least tomorrow."

"You hurt me very deeply with your words, Kurt." Mercedes' smile showed that she was joking. "Anyway, yes, I have found your models. I chose those who I liked, and I made sure that they are available on the date of the fashion show."

"Well, where are they?" Kurt asked impatiently.

Mercedes walked to the door, opened it, and five men and five women went inside. She walked to Kurt's desk, got ten folders from her bag, and sat back down.

He opened a folder and saw that they were the models' information. He looked at them, thinking about which clothes would fit best who, when he saw him.

He was smaller than Kurt. He had hazel eyes, and triangular eyebrows which were as thick and as bushy as caterpillars. His hair had so much gel in it; he probably wouldn't get hurt if ever a brick fell on his head.

"Oh my God, Mercedes, how can you pick him?" Kurt asked, not bothering to whisper.

"How can I pick who?" Mercedes asked.

"That guy," Kurt looked at his folder, "Blaine Anderson! He's short, Mercedes. Short."

Said guy let out a shout of "Hey! I'm not that short!" But Kurt ignored him. Instead, Kurt looked at Mercedes expectantly, tapping his shoes in impatience.

"Kurt, he's one of the best models the agencies have to offer. He's one of the best."

"But," Kurt whined, "He's short Mercedes. Shortening some of the pants will require a lot of time, which I don't have! I still have to do some more designs, and I can't allot so much time on one model."

"I thought you were a professional?" the guy—Blaine—challenged.

"Who said you can speak?" Kurt asked, already irritated with the guy. "Did I give you permission to speak?"

"Well no, but it's in my rights-"

"You see? No. I didn't give you any permission to speak. So speak, you shall not." Kurt said. He then turned to Mercedes. "You see? You picked someone who's rude. I thought you picked the best of the best?"

Mercedes stifled a laugh. "You were rude too, Kurt."

"I was not! I was being realistic, not rude."

"Excuses, excuses."

Kurt harrumphed and walked out of the office. Mercedes smiled, and looked at the men and women. "Excuse me, I will be back shortly."

She went out of the office and went to where Kurt was. "What is your problem with him?"

"He's short, he has triangular eyebrows, he has so much gel in his hair, he's short, and, did I mention he's short?" Kurt said sarcastically.

"What is it with you and short people?" Mercedes asked.

"It's not short people I'm annoyed at. It's him."

"Why? You barely know him. You didn't even have a full conversation with him that didn't include you two fighting with each other."

"I don't know," Kurt sighed. "Maybe it's because Anderson reminds me too much of him."

Mercedes hugged him and said, "Honey, you need to move on. He isn't Anderson, and Anderson isn't him. Relax, will you? Besides, you're not in a relationship with Blaine therefore, he can't hurt you. We're not even sure he's gay!"

"You're right, I'm sorry, I just had a bad day," Kurt said.

"Now go back in there and apologize to him," Mercedes said.

"Alright, I will."

Blaine Anderson was annoyed. Who was this man to call him short? He wasn't that short. He was only shorter than the man by an inch or two! Well, maybe four or five, since the man was wearing boots, but still. He couldn't believe that, just mere moments ago, he was attracted to Kurt Hummel. Who wouldn't be attracted to him, with his eyes that turn from blue to green to gray, with his porcelain skin, and his nice figure? He even had a nice voice, and Blaine could imagine just how good their voices might sound if ever they sung a duet, but Blaine didn't think of him the same way now. Sure, he was still attractive to Blaine, but Blaine's crush on him dissolved a little when he saw just how awful Kurt's personality was.

The glass doors opened to reveal Mercedes and Kurt walking inside. Kurt walked to his desk. "I'm sorry Anderson, for my inability to be professional a while ago."

Blaine looked at him in the eye, and said, "So you do have a heart. I thought you were a heartless fool."

Kurt looked at him and saw the fire burning in his eyes. He was taken aback. Did Anderson just insult him? Well, Anderson wanted to play with fire, so he will. And you know what they say, fight fire with fire.

Kurt ignored him and looked at Mercedes. "He'll do, I suppose. Even though he has a mouth that he couldn't keep shut."

"Well, you're one to talk," Blaine said.

Kurt glared at him. "If you value your dignity, and your manhood, you would stop talking right now."

"Well, as you said, I'm short. Maybe with the way you're glaring right now, you would miss your target if ever you wanted to kick me."

"Who said I was going to kick you? What if I wanted to throw a stapler at you?"

"Oh please, I saw your desk, you don't have a stapler."

"You know what? I won't waste my time on you, Anderson." Kurt looked at all the models. "Turn around slowly."

All the models did so, and Kurt started planning their outfits in his head. "Return here tomorrow at nine in the morning, sharp. All latecomers would be jabbed by pins when I adjust the clothing on said latecomers. That is all."

The models left, one by one, until only Mercedes and Kurt were left. Mercedes sat at one of the chairs in front of his desk and said, "Did you really have to do that? Did you really have to threaten them?"

"I didn't want anyone to be late. Most of the time, people don't listen until you threaten them. That's what Sue taught me."

Mercedes laughed. "You don't have to follow everything that crazy woman taught you."

Kurt continued working on some papers. "She taught me all the things I needed to know."

"Whatever. Listen, I won't be here tomorrow, so I'm saying this now," Mercedes said, turning Kurt's chin up so that he would look at her, "be nice. Don't torment the poor guy."

"Do I really need to hire him? Can't you just find someone else?" Kurt whined.

"He's one of the best. I guarantee you that if people saw him wearing your clothes; your sales would go over the roof."

Kurt scoffed. "Please. My sales are already over the roof."

"You're just scared to hire him because he's attractive," Mercedes teased.

"Mercedes, he's short," Kurt deadpanned. Of course, he didn't tell her that he found Blaine's hazel eyes completely gorgeous, and that he wanted twirl his fingers around Blaine's curls, if only Blaine stopped using so much gel.

"Whatever you say, white boy," Mercedes said. She winked at him and opened the door, starting to walk out.

"I do not have a crush on Blaine Anderson!" Kurt shouted.

Mercedes ignored him and just went inside the elevator, waving goodbye to him as the elevator doors closed. As Kurt's office was made of glass, he glared at her, knowing that she would see him. He became annoyed, however, when Mercedes ignored his bitch stare and just waved until the elevator doors closed and he could see her no more.

He huffed. "I am not attracted to Blaine Anderson," he repeated to himself. He found himself looking at Blaine's folder, and looked at his picture. "Just because he has pretty eyes, and he has a nice body doesn't mean I like him," Kurt said to himself.

He ignored the fact that he did find Blaine attractive.

He just told himself that no one needed to know, especially Mercedes.

What she didn't know won't hurt her.

Kurt opened the door to his penthouse suite and took a good look around. His ex boyfriend's things were gone. I guess Sean really did leave me for good, he thought sadly.

He ignored the pang in his heart and kept on walking to his bedroom. A quick look at the closet showed that his boyfriend took all his things, and that he probably won't be coming back for any other things, because he already took them all.

He got out of his clothes and carefully folded them. He put on his pyjamas and started walking to his king sized bed.

The bed was, of course, made of Egyptian cotton. Kurt Hummel deserved only the best, and beds were included in that rule.

He just wished that the bed wasn't quite so empty, or lonely for that matter.

He just shrugged, slipping under the covers, and stopped imagining a certain hazel eyed boy cuddling with him.

If Mercedes found out about what he was imagining, he would never hear the end of it.