Love and Fame: A Klaine Story

Chapter Twenty

"I seriously need this caffeine right now," I groan as Rachel and I wait in slow moving line at the Lima Bean.

"Same. I was up late last night studying for that test I have with Ms. Short," Rachel says. I wince when I hear her teacher's name. Ms. Short is notorious throughout the school for being the shittiest teacher everybody knows about. Either you have horror stories of her classes, or you know someone who has horror stories.

"That sucks. Makes me glad I never got her," I say, stepping up and ordering my coffee.

"Enough about that. Are you excited for next week?" Rachel asks after she orders her own coffee. I smile as thoughts of Blaine and the Grammys fill my mind.

"You know it. I'm honestly surprised my dad is still letting me go, even after I told him what it means for our relationship," I tell her. It turns out going public isn't just saying "oh hey, this is my boyfriend Kurt." No, it actually means that we will probably become one of the top stories because Blaine is famous, as well as a fan favorite to win in his category. That means interviews galore, and Blaine has sadly been asked by Julie to coach me on what to say and want not to say in front of cameras. It sucks because I'm a naturally sarcastic person, and I have to bite back most of the comments I want to make so I don't seem like a complete bitch.

"Are you seriously going to have to deal with photographers?" Rachel asks. I smile nervously.

"Maybe. Blaine told me it will probably happen, but you never know," I explain. She laughs, clearly just a little jealous that she won't be in the spotlight. I have a feeling she won't be leaving me alone for a while after the Grammys.

"Hey, I'll be right back, I have to go to the restroom. If they call my name, grab my coffee will you?" Rachel asks, heading off the the bathroom before I can even respond. I sigh, turning to face the counter when a semi-familiar face suddenly stops before me.

"Holy shit. You're Blaine Anderson's boy toy aren't you?" A tall, lean boy in a blazer says. I look at him, surprised, before I recognize the Dalton crest on his blazer.

"You go to Dalton, don't you?" I ask, ignoring the previous question.

"And you're on the New Directions, McKinley's glee club. I'm sure you recognize me. I'm Sebastian Smythe, lead singer for the Warblers," he doesn't hold out his hand for me to shake, like you normally do when introducing yourself. Instead, he stares at me up and down, seeming to judge me based on my body, and my latest Marc Jacobs sweater and skinny jeans.

"Kurt," I hear the barista call my name, and I have to brush past Sebastian (who refuses to move) to get my drink.

"You're avoiding my question. You're sex-on-a-stick Blaine Anderson's boy toy, aren't you?" He asks again. I fight the jealousy that rises in me when I hear him refer to my boyfriend as sex-on-a-stick. I mean, it's true, but I'm the only one allowed to call him that. Not like I would call him that, I don't think I ever would call him that. Not that he's not sexy, oh god I should just shut my awkward thoughts up and get this guy off my back.

"No, I'm not. You have me confused with someone else," I give him my bitch glare, wishing he would actually shrink away. But he just leans closer to me, his face way too close for comfort.

"Darling, photographers just took pictures of your ass at first, and I don't forget a view as lovely as that. Although the thing is, the camera doesn't do that vision justice," he whispers, his breath washing over my neck causing shivers to roll down my spine. And not the good ones that Blaine gives me.

"Hey, Kurt. You ready?" Rachel's voice says, causing Sebastian to lean back and grab his own coffee.

"Nice meeting you, Kurt. If you get tired of Anderson, give me a call," he winks before leaving. Rachel looks up at me, surprised.