MY FINEST DAY IS YET UNKNOWN

Welcome to my humble corner of the internet. My name is Kurt Anderson and I will be your guide for however long you choose to make my lovely blog your domain. I suppose I should begin by filling up this box with some of the necessary information about me. I am twenty-four years old and a resident of New York City. I graduated from NYADA two years ago and I've finally gotten my big break as the lead in a musical that I'm not yet permitted to reveal to anyone other than close friends and family, but you'll see posts about rehearsals and such sooner or later. Another highly significant aspect of my life is my marriage. I am currently the husband of the one and only Blaine Anderson. He is my sun and stars, the air I breathe; feel free to add other cliches as required. He is the most important person in my life at the moment and always will be. I could not be happier that he is my partner in the journey of life. If you have any questions, requests or comments, feel free to use my ask box to relieve yourself of them. I am more than happy to answer any queries my dear readers may have. But for now, adieu!

[k--anderson]

TEXT MESSAGES → HEVANS

SAM: That doesn't sound good.

SAM: I think we just gotta remind him of how talented he is, y'know? Show him old videos and write him letters and stuff.

SAM: I can talk to him, if you like.

KURT: Maybe we can both speak to him about it when you're here. If he sees someone other than me is concerned, maybe he'll actually listen.

[k--anderson]

LOVERS THAT WENT WRONG → KLAINE

INVOLVED: Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel

LOCATION: Kurt and Blaine’s Apartment

TIMEFRAME: Saturday, 9pm

PLOT: Kurt is repeatedly unable to attend Blaine’s gigs and Blaine has had enough.

[k--anderson]

BLAINE ANDERSON:

Blaine was legitimately a little more excited for this particular gig than he had been for most of his other ones. Not only had he been invited to perform at the small Italian restaurant, he had apparently also been bragged about to the owner about how amazing of a singer he was, as well as how talented he was with a guitar in his hands. He actually remembered meeting the acquaintance of a young man, maybe a year or two younger than himself, who had been lingering around at a coffee shop only a couple days prior. As the son of the owner to Il Bambino Cafe had approached him afterwards, the man only nice things to say about how much he had enjoyed one song in particular that just so happened to partially be in Italian. Blaine would have been lying if he didn’t appreciate the attention, because it had been awhile since he had felt even remotely close to as praised as he felt in that moment. 

Without a doubt he took the man’s invitation, and prepared for over a day in order to have the perfect setlist. He had even told Kurt about it. Well, perhaps not the part about the younger man practically fawning over his abilities with a guitar, because that portion wasn’t exactly important. He had mentioned, however, how he was very much looking forward to playing at the restaurant, and how different it was in comparison to the number of cafes and bars he had frequented in order to make a decent (in his opinion at least) amount of change. So he arrived at Il Bambino Cafe with the kind of spark he hadn’t felt inawhile, the kind of energy that he remembered feeling back when he first started to try and audition for certain Broadway roles years ago, though he attempted to not remind himself of how poorly those all turned out. Nonetheless, he attacked every tune with a fresh and optimistic perspective, and the patrons seemed to love him since they couldn’t help but clap heavily after several of his songs. But the one person he expected to be there the most…the one person he was looking forward to seeing more than anyone never managed to show up.

To say that Blaine was disappointed was an understatement, one that he actually had become quite acquainted with when it came to expecting his husband to show up at his performances. He could not honestly remember the last time he saw Kurt’s beamingly proud face sitting at a small table by himself, and it had always been the one closest to whatever makeshift stage he would be sitting on with his guitar. And at first it didn’t get to him, at first it wouldn’t bother him because he knew that his soulmate was making his way into an industry that he had been working so hard to be a part of for awhile now. He couldn’t have been happier for him, and he was well aware of the fact that his husband sometimes chose to spend his nights with his cast mates rather than at yet another bar, cafe, or restaurant where Blaine was playing some setlist that he usually spent a couple hours perfecting. It’s not that he blamed Kurt for spending time elsewhere… What frustrated him was that it had been awhile now, and it seemed these days as though his other half tried everything in his power to avoid his performances. But maybe that was just him getting unnecessarily frustrated…after all, Kurt would never do that, right?

Once he made his way back to the apartment he had to shift his guitar case so that he could reach into his pant pockets to pull his keys out, managing to get them in the hole a moment later and nudge the door open with his shoulder. As he heads inside he taps the door shut with the heal of his Oxford shoe, and gently sets his guitar on the dining table for the time being in order to shrug his jacket off from his shoulders. It wasn’t until he took a quick meaningless glance around the apartment that he realized his husband was right there, laying on the couch with a book in his hand. Something about the entire sight just added more fuel to the already small fire that was burning inside of him. “No drinks with the cast tonight?” he manages to ask, attempting to not let his voice betray him and show just how displeased he was with him. Blaine hangs his jacket off the backside of a chair, his fingers coming up to mess with his hair that had looked put together at some point in the night, though with the heat of the restaurant and the couple hours he had been playing his curls had sweat through the gel and hung loosely over his forehead. 

KURT HUMMEL:

It was obvious that Blaine was doing his best to appear as though he weren’t disappointed, but Kurt could see it. He had known Blaine long enough to have memorised what every inconsequential gesture meant. That was what came with having a soul mate. The way that Blaine’s eyes bore into him made Kurt unable to do anything but tell the truth. It was something that he had, for a very long time, loved. He had once adored how he had no choice but to be open and honest with the man that he loved, but sometimes he felt that a little white lie was necessary to sustain the relationship. However, with the way Blaine was looking at him now, Kurt knew that a conflict was unavoidable, no matter how much he might have tried to convince himself otherwise.

“No, there were.” Kurt began, carefully. “They just wrapped up a little earlier than usual. I got home maybe five minutes before you.” He had been trying very hard for the tone not to sound defensive. Kurt often found that when he sounded defensive, it was as though he were lying, even if he were telling the plainest truth in the world. The last thing in the world that Kurt wanted was to argue with Blaine. He hated it more than anything in the world. Somehow, perhaps because he had known Kurt for a very long time, Blaine knew exactly what buttons to push either to make Kurt talk; or to make him feel incredibly guilty for whatever indiscretion he may have committed.

But could his actions really be labelled as indiscretions? Kurt had been wondering this for a very long time. Was his disappointment in Blaine and his refusal to admit to this disappointment really terrible enough to be labelled so? He had been, at first unintentionally and later purposefully, been avoiding Blaine’s performances, simply because he knew that Blaine could do better, but did not want to be the one to tell him so. Kurt had been hoping that if Blaine registered his lack of appearance at his performances, he would realise that Kurt did not, could not, settle for mediocrity from anyone he loved, least of all his husband. Kurt was so painfully aware of Blaine’s natural talent. Of how he could command the attention of a room without even uttering a single world. Things came easily to Blaine. He was handsome. He was charming. He was leading man material. Kurt, on the other hand, had to work hard for anything he wanted to achieve for himself. And he had suffered for a very long time by not looking the way a classical leading man would look. By not sounding like a leading man should sound. He had finally achieved his big break, but that had not come without its fair share of work. And now Kurt, who was no stranger to working hard for what he believed he deserved, was married to a man who did not know the true value of hard work by being so talented that he did not need to strive or fight for anything. Perhaps the sentiments were unfair, but that was truly Kurt’s uncensored opinion. The opinion he never believed he would tell Blaine. Until today.

What was a nice way to tell someone that you believed that they had receded from their potential? The answer to that question was that there wasn’t a way. Kurt had mulled it over in his head for such a long time and had come up with no solution to the tight spot that he had suddenly found himself in.

“How was the performance?” he asked nonchalantly, doing his best to steer the conversation away from himself.

[k--anderson]

Happy Birthday, Sam!

It's only fitting that the fourth of May would be the birthday of the biggest Star Wars fan of all time. Although I can't say I'm a big fan of that franchise, I can honestly say that I'm a big fan of you. From the moment we've met, you've been nothing but kind and fair to me, even when I've asked way too much of you. You've been nothing short of an incredible friend over the near decade we've known each other and I can only hope that you'll continue to be as incredible a friend to me as you have been to me. I wish you all the best of everything and I hope that you've had an incredible day and I'm sorry I wasn't there to share it with you. Although, you'll be here in New York soon, so I'll be sure to take you out for a celebratory night on the town. Until that fateful today, look after yourself.

[k--anderson]

TEXT MESSAGES → HEVANS

SAM: That sounds good. I dunno if I'm ready, but -- might as well try.

SAM: What's wrong? Is he dying?

KURT: He's kind of...unmotivated? Setting himself up for failure? I don't even know. I guess I just fell in love with the person that was as high reaching as I was and now that he's had a few setbacks, it's like he's completely given up and retreated into this little shell of what he used to be.

KURT: I don't like it and I don't know what I can do to fix it.

[k--anderson]

TEXT MESSAGES → HEVANS

SAM: Yeah, well, this time round, my fiancée won't be abandoning me, so we might get to be a bit happier.

KURT: We'll have a much better time.

KURT: There's a cute girl in my production. Very cute /and/ very single. Maybe you can come with me when we go for post-rehearsal drinks and work that Southern charm you brag about.

KURT: Speaking of fiancées and such...could I talk to you about something?

KURT: It's Blaine. He's been worrying me a lot lately.

[k--anderson]

LOVERS THAT WENT WRONG → KLAINE

INVOLVED: Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel

LOCATION: Kurt and Blaine's Apartment

TIMEFRAME: Saturday, 9pm

PLOT: Kurt is repeatedly unable to attend Blaine's gigs and Blaine has had enough.

KURT HUMMEL:

The day had been long and tiring, as many others before it had been and the ones following would be; but Kurt loved it. He adored the feeling of being productive, of finally realising his dreams rather than being on the backseat of someone else’s fortune. As he arrived at his and Blaine’s apartment and wrestled the key into the lock for the final time that day, he felt an overwhelming exhaustion that could only be experienced after a day of extreme creativity.

Closing the door behind him, Kurt exhaled contentedly as he collapsed onto their cream coloured couch and began to bury himself under the rug that they always kept nearby. Oddly unnerved by the rare silence that permeated the apartment, Kurt reached for the copy of Coco Chanel’s autobiography that was resting on the glass coffee table. He had been devouring it quickly last he remembered reading it, but it had been a very long time since he had been able to have any time to himself. It had been a long time since he’d been able to be even a little selfish. For a long time, everything he had, everything he was, had been put into the relationship between himself and Blaine.

Blaine was at a gig tonight at a local restaurant. He had been doing that a lot lately and Kurt wasn’t sure how much he liked it. He knew that Blaine enjoyed his little coffee shop gigs, but to put it simply, Kurt was concerned. Back in high school, if he had been able to choose one person who could succeed in the performing arts business…well, it would have been Rachel. But if he could have chosen two, the second place would no doubt be occupied by Blaine. Blaine had been so fearless, so incredibly talented. He had star quality. He could have been so successful had he been less afraid to try and to take risks. He was playing it safe, escaping into his shell of easily scheduled coffee shop performances, making mediocre money for incredible talent. He could have been doing so much more, but instead his potential was being squandered. Wasted. Kurt could never tell him this, of course. He knew how sensitive Blaine was and he did not want to provoke an argument.

At the same time though, Kurt knew that he was not being very supportive. He had been working very hard on the musical for the last couple of months, first on the audition and call backs; and now on the rehearsals themselves. However, he could not pretend that he had been prioritising his husband over them. When his co-stars wanted to go for dinner or drinks or to a club at the end of the day, Kurt went with them. At first, he had told himself that it was because he wanted to become acquainted with his co-workers, but later he realised that he had been avoiding arguing with Blaine by simply not being there, all the while voicing his disapproval of Blaine’s career choice without having to say a word.

As Kurt heard the key jimmying inside the lock, he felt his chest seize up. Somehow he knew that tonight was the night when everything would come out into the open. But it was unavoidable. He had been avoiding the subject for too long. The inevitable had arrived on his doorstep. And Kurt was terrified of the consequences.

[k--anderson]

TEXT MESSAGES → HEVANS

SAM: Hey, dude. Guess which Jedi Master is bringing the Force to New York any day now?

KURT: I should pretend I understand all those references, right?

KURT: But if it's not you, I must say I'll be incredibly disappointed.

KURT: It's been far too long since we last saw each other.

[k--anderson]

TEXT MESSAGE → RACHEL BERRY

KURT: Rachel.

KURT: I need you.

KURT: I have a problem and I think you're the only one who can help me.

KURT: If I can be helped at all.

KURT: I know you're probably busy rehearsing for your big audition. But. Please answer. If you can.

[nosurrendergossip]

“Kurt and Elliott once battled it out for the title of Rachel’s Best Gay.”

[k--anderson]

And I won. Obviously.

[thelittleingenue]

I have amazing news!

The birth of the one and only Ms. Streisand has shone down and afforded me the last minute reprieve I needed to return to my previous status as the star of Manhattan! As I’m sure all of my fans and followers will already know, I was cruelly forced to work during Barbra’s birthday (despite an impeccably organised protest made on my part) and so in order to register my indignation I refused to perform anything that wasn’t from the Streisand oeuvre. It was during a particularly heartfelt and moving rendition of The Way We Were that the Barry Weissler noticed my considerable talents. For those of you who are unfortunately ignorant on all things Broadway, he was the producer behind the most recent Tony award winning production of Pippin alongside his wife Fran, as well as receiving five other Tony awards in their considerably lengthy and successful time on the Great White Way. He loved me so much that he has invited me to audition for the role of Annie in their revival of Annie Get Your Gun! 

Annie Oakley was a role played by both Ethel Merman and Bernadette Peters in their respective illustrious careers so it is only natural that I should be the one to revive her on Broadway after a nearly twenty year hiatus. This does mean that unfortunately I will be slightly less accessible over the upcoming weeks as I prepare for the audition that could make or break my career. I hardly need to stress the honour and prestige that comes with being chosen to lead six times Tony winners’ show and I can only ensure that by making sure my audition is perfect. I would hate to let both my beloved fans down, or Ms. Streisand when she so generously gifted me with such an amazing opportunity on her birthday. You could be reading the post of the next Annie Oakley, and inevitably Tony Award winner, and I can’t wait to tread the boards again. There truly is, after all, no business like show business. 

[k--anderson]

You see, Miss Berry? You should listen to me more often. I told you that your time in the spotlight wasn't over. I told you that your time would come! Break a leg out there, sweetheart. I expect a phone call the instant you get any new information.

[k--anderson]

Text Message → Kurt

Blaine: One that you'll get to deal with when I get home in about...

Blaine: Twenty minutes.

Kurt: Excellent. I love a good challenge.

[k--anderson]

TEXT MESSAGE → ElLIOTT GILBERT

ELLIOTT: You should feel special already, Mr. Hot Shot.

ELLIOTT: Just remember to mention me in that Tony acceptance speech.

KURT: No one's winning any Tonys yet. But I'll keep that in mind.

KURT: So. I just realised that I've selfishly monopolised the conversation and not asked you about yourself.

KURT: What's been going on?

[k--anderson]

Text Message → Kurt

Blaine: Kurt!

Blaine: I'll make sure to pay you back for it next time you're at rehearsals.

Blaine: Work is a terrible place to be sexually frustrated.

Kurt: I suppose that's your problem.

[spreadklaine]

[k--anderson]

TEXT MESSAGE → ELIOTT GILBERT

ELLIOTT: Of course I would. Don't be ridiculous.

ELLIOTT: Kurt, you're one of my good friends, and if that isn't reason enough to leave Jersey for the city for a weekend (not that one ever needs good reason) -- I don't know what is.

KURT: You have no idea how special that makes me feel.

KURT: Thank you.

[k--anderson]

Text Message → Kurt

Blaine: Yes, they do, I completely agree.

Blaine: I'm having trouble focusing at work all of a sudden.

Kurt: Good. That was my intention.

[k--anderson]

Rehearsals are exhausting.

[thelittleingenue]

I didn’t want to ignore the birthday of my greatest idol and inspiration, Kurt, trust me. Unfortunately Gunther claimed Barbra’s birthday was not a viable reason for taking a day off work and I was forced to spend the day serving food instead of indulging in my usual movie marathon. When you consider the deep emotional trauma and stress I am currently going through, you would think that he would let me enjoy my small glimmer of happiness but alas, all I could do to make my voice heard was refuse to sing anything not made famous by Ms. Streisand herself. It was a sad and tragic foreshadowing to my life of anonymity and the fame slipping from my fingers with every intermission I take from handing out napkins instead of from performing Don’t Cry For Me Argentina. That’s easy for you to say, you’re finally becoming the star that you deserve to be but what if that was it for me, Kurt? What if I was just meant to revive Funny Girl and then become a nobody whose talents are wasted and forgotten? This never happened to Barbra and it was embarrassing to remember all her achievements when I’m 24 and I haven’t even recorded my first album yet! Where is my Grammy winning eponymous first album, Kurt? It’s gone, just like the rest of my dreams to feed the pernicious gossip bloggers telling themselves they were all right.

[k--anderson]

Listen to me, Rachel Berry. You are not doing this. Not now and not ever. You are talented. Possibly the most talented person I know. You have star quality. You are going to get there. If there is any justice in the world, your hard work to become the best of the best will all be worth it. You just need to keep working hard and continue seeking out new roles and opportunities. Barbra may have had it all worked out at twenty-four, but that's Barbra. You're you. And the both of you are one in a million. Therefore, your career trajectory could not possibly be the same as hers. You are incredible and you will get another moment to shine. You just have to keep trying.