In retrospect, I could have done things a bit differently. After all, this was my ex-boyfriend we're considering. Isn't that what everyone wishes for? To see their ex-boyfriend after so many years and prove to them how much more capable and successful you are without them? Instead, I was caught mumbling my way through conversation and cradling a carrier of lattes that basically screamed intern.

How pathetic.

"You're acting a little strange tonight, Kurt," Rachel announced plainly as she joined me on the sofa in our apartment.

Rachel and I's apartment. It's located in the Upper West Side and costs far more than anyone should ever have to pay for a place to live. It's lovely, though, and far more perfect than either of us could have ever imagined. I distinctly recall my hellhole of an apartment during freshman year. The plumbing barely worked and it constantly smelled like something died no matter how many cans of Fabreeze I invested in. After Rachel's career launched and I nailed down my internship, we decided to move somewhere more fitting for the divas we rightfully are.

"It's nothing," I told her, turning my attention back to the sketchpad that rested in my lap. "Stop worrying about me. Don't you have lines to memorize?"

Rachel pouted. "This is more important."

"My less-than-stellar love life is more important than opening night of a Broadway show?"

A gasp escaped Rachel's mouth, followed by some sort of high-pitched squeal while I simply rolled my eyes at my own stupidity for letting such a coveted piece of information unwillingly slip out.

"You met someone!" She was grinning like a fool and honestly appeared as if she may burst with excitement at any moment. Oh, how I hated her.

"Not exactly," I answered carefully. It wasn't exactly a lie. Technically, I've met Blaine before--I just happened to bump into him.

Rachel narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Kurt Hummel, when are you going to finally realize that you can't hide anything from me? You--"

"I ran into Blaine today,"

It fell silent. Too silent. The kind of silence that tugged relentlessly at your nerves until you were practically begging for something--anything--to be said. Luckily, with Rachel, I never had to wait very long.

"But," The expression that befell Rachel's face was a bit undetectable, caught somewhere between shock and confusion. "Where... what is he doing in New York?"

"Apparently getting coffee in the Starbucks on 5th Avenue," I shrugged and tapped my pencil gently on my forgotten sketchpad. "Honestly, I was a bit too shell-shocked to think to interrogate him."

Rachel blinked mindlessly before sinking back into the sofa cushion. "Wow... It's been--"

"Four years," I finished quietly, my voice sounding unnecessarily solemn. "I know."

More silence. I continued to tap quietly on my sketchpad while Rachel stared aimlessly at the sofa cushion below her.

"So," She finally spoke up cautiously as if her voice were too loud for the silence in the apartment. "Are you ever going to talk to him? Maybe you could find out the reason for him being here to distill your curiosity."

"You mean your curiosity," I accused. I placed my pencil down on the coffee table in front of us and sighed, a hand reaching up to my temples. "I don't know... Perhaps if our paths ever cross again. Honestly, Rachel, I don't know why this would change anything. Sure, it'd be fun to catch up over coffee or lunch one day, but... We're still different people than we were back then. I'm going to treat him like I would any other acquaintance."

"Well, I, for one, have certainly missed him," Rachel butted in, loud and boisterous all over again. "I may just have to invite myself along on your little get-together."

A smirk tugged on my lips as I released a breath of laughter. "Of course you will."

My charade of indifference didn't last long at all. In fact, it hardly survived a whole 24 hours before my mind was plagued with dozens of questions: What was Blaine doing in New York? To be honest, we completely lost touch after our breakup. I don't even know where he attended college, but I would assume I would have seen him around sooner if it had been somewhere in the city. On the other hand, it is a large place and running into someone you know is more than a tad serendipitous.

Or perhaps... This is fate. Destiny or something of that sort. Perhaps this is the universe's way of telling me that Blaine and I have unfinished business. But that just seems illogical. Who am I kidding? If the universe wanted Blaine and I to be together, our paths would have crossed a long time ago. Besides, my life isn't a Meg Ryan movie. It's not even close.

However, my over analysis didn't stop me from wanting to know. It's all I could think about the next day at work so I requested an early lunch break and headed over to the 5th Avenue Starbucks. It was a stretch, thinking he'd be there again, but if there was one thing I remember about Blaine Anderson it's that the boy loves his coffee.

I stepped into the shop, glancing around and ever grateful that I wouldn't be caught this time with an inordinate amount of coffee in my hands. I removed my sunglasses and tucked them away in my bag to get a better look around. This wasn't my usual Starbucks so I didn't recognize many of the faces sitting around the store. There was a man by the window with an unnecessary amount of facial piercings, an older woman on her laptop, and, finally, a young man sitting by himself, sipping on a coffee and flipping through a magazine. A smile crept onto my lips upon seeing him. I suppose some reactions never change. I took a breath and walked up to his table from behind.

"Blaine Anderson," I greeted when I was finally within earshot. Blaine's head shot up so fast that his coffee nearly toppled over. He looked over his shoulder in time to see my eyebrow rise at his reaction and he speedily closed the magazine and slipped it into his bag.

"Kurt!" He replied enthusiastically, jumping to his feet. His lips seemed to be permanently turned upward into a grin. "Hi! You... Wow, you came back."

I shrugged my shoulders and allowed a few peals of breathless laughter escape my lips. "Well, I'm just taking a lunch break."

Blaine was shuffling a little uncomfortably from one foot to the other, but his wide, goofy smile still remained. I assumed that he was having a similar concern as myself--the greeting. I wasn't burdened with four steaming lattes this time around so we couldn't necessarily ignore the possibility of a hug. Yet there was something about a handshake that seemed offensively formal given our history. To put both of us out of our misery, I quickly slid my bag off my shoulder and walked toward the vacant seat across from him.

"May I...?"

"Yes! Of course. Yeah, please join me," Blaine was still on his feet when I settled into the chair. He was looking at me as if I'd just hung the moon, but I pretended to busy myself with taking my phone out of my pocket to avoid his insistent gaze.

"So how..."

"Do you..."

We both stopped and stuttered over our words awkwardly.

"I'm sorry,"

"No, no, I'm sorry,"

"What were you saying?"

"I was going to ask if you'd like anything to drink," Blaine motioned back toward the front counter.

I nodded. "Yes, that'd be lovely, but you don't have to--"

"It's fine, Kurt, it's on me," He removed his wallet from the pocket of his jeans, but paused before he walked away, grinning at me playfully. "Grande non-fat latte, right?"

A giggle escaped my mouth. "Close. Grande non-fat mocha. But still impressive."

Blaine wasn't gone for long and when he returned, he was holding two cups of coffee--one for me and a second for him, I assumed. I thanked him graciously for paying, but he waved it off with a nonchalant smile. Always the gentleman.

"No important meetings today?" He asked cheekily.

I struggled for words while trying to appear unfazed. "None, I'm afraid. I'm not nearly as important as I think I am."

"Oh, I find that hard to believe," He told me with a wink. "So what exactly are these meetings for?"

"My internship," I answered after taking a gulp of my mocha. "I'm working at Exquisite Fashion Magazine as a design and management intern."

Blaine looked surprised. "You're not performing anymore?"

I heaved a sigh that I'm sure spoke volumes. "I transferred after my first year at NYADA. Turns out that theatre was never my true calling. I studied fashion design at NYU."

"I knew it," Blaine hided his amusement behind his coffee cup. "You've always been extremely talented, but I always had a feeling you'd end up in fashion."

I shrugged again. "I suppose life is funny that way."

"Are you still living with Rachel?" Blaine wondered.

"Yes, we share an apartment,"

"And please tell me that she's still performing,"

"Of course," I smiled. "In fact, she couldn't even wait until graduation. She got offered a role in a new Broadway show."

Blaine shook his head affectionately. "Typical Rachel."

"She hasn't changed much," I informed him. "Loud and dramatic as ever."

"Is she still dating Finn?" Blaine asked.

I nodded and finished swallowing before responding. "She is, indeed. Finn just graduated from U-Cal and now he's making plans to take over my dad's shop in Lima."

Blaine nodded appreciatively. "And what about your dad? How's he?"

I narrowed my eyes as the corner of my lip twitched upward gently. "You're nosier than I remember."

"Sorry," Blaine laughed heartily. "Philosophy major."

My eyes widened and I'm certain Blaine noticed the surprise etched all over my features. "I would not have guessed that," I tell him truthfully. "What do you even do with a degree in Philosophy?"

"Pretend it means something and write music instead," Blaine offered.

That seems more like it. For as long as I'd known Blaine, music had always been his lifeline. He often told me that singing was the only way he knew how to truly express himself and--good god--the boy could sing. I had always assumed he'd pursue music in his future.

"You needed to pay for a college education to do that?" I ventured politely.

A sigh fell past Blaine's lips and, for the first time all afternoon, I watched his smile falter. "My parents did. A degree makes them think whatever I'm doing is more legitimate."

I nodded slowly. Blaine had always been on thin ice with his parents, it seemed. They've always had such high expectations for him, but they didn't always coincide with the dreams Blaine had planned. "And where did you earn this degree?"

"Duke University in North Carolina," Blaine answered as he aimlessly twirled his coffee cup in place.

"North Carolina," I repeated. "That's an awfully long journey from New York."

Blaine chuckled and I could have sworn it sounded a bit nervous. "Well, like you said, life is funny that way."

He reached for his cup and took a long swig of his drink while I studied his face carefully. Was he ashamed that he didn't have enough courage to stand up to his parents? I couldn't quite tell, to be honest.

"I suppose New York is a wonderful place to break out into the business," I supplied helpfully, hoping to take the focus off of his family. "There are agencies all over the city and record labels, too--"

"I'm engaged,"

It was a good thing I was sitting down because as soon as those words left Blaine's mouth, I could feel the room spinning. All I could do was blink and stare and let my jaw drop open gracelessly.

"To... be married?" I squeaked out, my mocha forgotten. Blaine nodded with a smile and guzzled more coffee down his throat while I took a moment to gather my wits--unsuccessfully, of course.

It wasn't that I was surprised--not really. Blaine is a sweet, attractive, and wonderful man who would make anyone happy to spend his or her life with. And I knew we had both moved on. I knew that years ago. Out of all the possible scenarios that I contemplated in my mind, this one was certainly unexpected. Blaine was just so young... I wasn't even aware he was seeing anyone and his left hand looked strangely unadorned for an engaged man.

"Blaine," I muttered breathlessly. I let my lips curl upward into a supportive smile and--out of habit, I suppose--reached out a hand to cover one of Blaine's on top of the table. "That's wonderful. Truly. Congratulations."

Blaine seemed fixated on our hands, but finally looked up at me long enough to smile back. "Thank you, Kurt... Yeah. It's... sudden."

"What's his name?" I blurted out, retracting my hand to rest it over my heart. "How did you two meet? Tell me everything. You know I adore a good love story."

Blaine was laughing, which I presumed to be a good sign. At least it seemed as if his nerves were subsiding. "His name is Malory. We met at Duke during my sophomore year, his junior year. He's originally from New York and he moved back here after he graduated to take up a great job offer."

"And you're here visiting him?" I assumed.

"Actually," Blaine laughed and glanced out the window as if he were sharing some sort of private joke with himself. "I just moved here because I transferred to Columbia to finish up my senior year."

Blaine must've taken in my perplexed expression because he immediately started backtracking and explaining himself. "We knew we wanted to stay together for the long haul, but with him moving back to New York... I think he was worried. So it was either come with me and get married or goodbye."

My nose wrinkled in disdain even though I tried not to. "That's perhaps the most unromantic proposal story I've ever heard."

"It's really not like that," Blaine tried to reason. "He just wanted some stability--I don't blame him--some sort of guarantee that I wouldn't stray."

"You? Stray?" I raised a single, disbelieving eyebrow. "Does he even know you?"

Blaine laughed. "That's what I said, too."

Our laughter mingled together and we shared smiles, but when the amusement dwindled down to nothing and we were left gazing happily into each other's eyes, I decided I had heard enough. I came for answers and I got them.

"I should probably go," I told him in a rush, reaching for my bag and standing from the table. Blaine immediately joined me and I assumed this was the moment of truth--to hug or not to hug. I didn't have much time to think about it before I could feel Blaine's strong arms wrap around me in an all-too familiar embrace.

I don't know why it took me so long to reciprocate the hug. It took me by surprise, I suppose. I was fully expecting a quick exchange of goodbyes to suffice, but Blaine had always been touchier than I am. Finally, my body responded and my arms found their way around his waist in an alarmingly powerful example of muscle memory.

"Is your number the same?" Blaine asked as he pulled away, his hands lingering on my shoulders before dropping them to his sides.

"Hm?" I responded daftly.

"Your phone number," He clarified with a hopeful smile. "It hasn't changed, has it?"

I blinked. "Oh... No. It's the same,"

"Good," Blaine rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at the floor. "I'd like us to be friends, Kurt... I mean, if that's alright with you."

I blinked again. Poor Blaine was probably going to think that's all I know how to do now. "Yes, I'd like... I, well... It's alright with me, of course..."

"I've missed you,"

It was so sincere and, there he was, staring at me like I hung the moon again.

"I've missed you, too, Blaine," I replied with a smile.

"I'll call you soon. We should have dinner sometime. I'll bring Malory and you can bring Rachel," He stopped himself and shot me a slightly panicked and apologetic expression. "Unless you're seeing someone, too...?"

The corner of my mouth twitched. "Not at the moment."

"Right," Blaine was nodding quickly, hoping to oust some of the lingering awkwardness. "Okay, well, great. I'll see you around, Kurt."

"See you around,"

I left the Starbucks and headed down the street, taking peace in the fact that, for the first time in four years, I really would be seeing him around again.