Skin On Skin

Chapter 22

They were late, arriving at the Warner Bros. Studios flushed, out of breath but high on the happy, sex endorphins that were racing through their bodies. Santana met them at the entrance, and even though Kurt had only met her the day before and had no idea how she worked with Blaine, she was a welcoming face in the chaos that was suddenly whirring around him. He was more than happy that at least when Blaine was busy, he would have someone to talk to. She did however make him blush when she enquired straight out as to whether they had put her gift box to good use.

"Of course we did," Blaine told her merrily. "Except page 68 proved to be a challenge because I couldn't quite get my leg..."

"Blaine!" Kurt interrupted sharply.

Santana gave the pair a sadistic, but happy smile. "Good for you guys, good for you."

Fortunately for Kurt's embarrassment, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Ellen's staff member who had been assigned to be Blaine's personal assistant for the day. She introduced herself as Betty, Betty with big, red curly hair. Blaine immediately crossed his arms over his chest and struck a defensive pose while Kurt hid fearfully behind him unsure of why the ambience around them had suddenly taken a dive for the worst.

Completely aware of just how much trouble Blaine could be (his reputation more than preceded him), Betty decided to give him the rundown as quickly as possible, "You've missed your chance of having a couple of run throughs of your song before they start filming and you've also missed being able to discuss your part in Ellen's hidden camera celebrity pranks for the day. You've seen the final list of approved questions?" she asked.

For the first time ever, Blaine sensed someone else's discomfort and displeasure at being in his presence. He had been about to unleash a rude comment along the lines that he didn't care about any list, he would answer whatever he wanted, when he had realized that Betty had been waiting for it, preparing herself for any onslaught of uncouth comments. Blaine was suddenly overcome with guilt and shame. Just how many producers, interviewers and other various workers that he had met and dealt with over the past couple of years had felt the same way? What was he doing? He didn't have to play that obnoxious rock star any longer.

Blaine took a step back, relaxed his stance, and gave Betty a soft smile. "It's absolutely fine," he told her, "I can perform anywhere, anytime. I don't need any run throughs, and in regards to the pranks, I'll do whatever Ellen tells me, and the first list of questions was fine."

Betty tilted her head to the side obviously surprised by Blaine's polite response, but she wasn't quite ready to relax just yet. "Okay, well that's good to know because once we start filming, it's going to get quite hectic," she explained. Betty looked past Blaine and to his small group, "Follow me. I'll guide you to your dressing room."

Kurt sat awkwardly on the sofa, his back straight and knees uncomfortably together. He was too afraid to make any sudden or significant movements. He was going to act invisible and pretend that he didn't exist. Santana was on his right and was already flicking through a magazine that had been under the coffee table in front of them. He tried to act as calm and relaxed as her, but he was finding it difficult. How could he when he was at The Ellen Studio for goodness sake?

It was as if he had stepped into another dimension. He had seen Ellen's dressing rooms on TV before on many occasions. There was the flat screen TV on the wall, the simple wooden TV cabinet below, the green sofa along the opposite wall that he was currently sitting on and the bathroom just to his right. Kurt was also aware of the very fact that they had a tendency to put cameras in the rooms, and he glanced nervously around hoping to spy if there had been any secret cameras hidden. He gazed even more warily at the restroom. There would be no way that he was going to use the toilet in there. He had seen what had happened to Taylor Swift.