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All I Do Is Dream Of You (Vogue Verse)

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Step 1 of How to Succeed in the Fashion Industry: Score an interview at Vogue.com.

“Okay, I can do this, I know everything about her,” Kurt murmurs to himself, tightening the grip on his leather satchel. “She double-majored in fashion design and-”

“Miss Wright will see you now,” the bored receptionist announces and Kurt jumps in his seat at the sudden interruption. The receptionist spares him a look, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Not you,” she tells him. “You.”

You is a girl with bright purple hair and a blotchy red face. She has been biting her nails non-stop since she entered the room and she’s quite possibly the only person in the room even more nervous than Kurt. She’s dressed in nice, fashionable clothes, obviously chosen to look cute and edgy, but from the look of everyone else walking around on the floor, she’s a bit too cute to work here.

Oh well, maybe she’s got a chance at Teen Vogue.

Kurt flinches. That was a harsh thought, even for his standards. He doesn’t necessarily want her to go home empty-handed. But… he needs this internship. It’s his dream job and only silver lining in this New York beginner’s funk he’s been in. The “Big Apple Blues”, as Rachel has dubbed it.

The receptionist is still staring at him. Focusing on his one goal of getting this job, whatever the cost, he smiles at her apologetically instead of engaging in wild fantasies of his hippo brooch coming to life to bite her flippant head off.

He watches the carefully-curled purple locks spring up and down as the other applicant walks toward the general direction of where he suspects Miss Wright’s allegedly palatial office is.

Just as he’s about to go back to his fact-listing exercise, a guy with neatly gelled hair steps out of the elevator, looking a bit out of breath and zeroing in on the receptionist immediately.

“Hi,” he says, rushing to get to her desk. “I’m so sorry, I have an interview at ten… Anderson, my name’s first on the list there. I know it said to be here at least fifteen minutes earlier but there was a technical problem on the subway, the crowds were impossible to get through and-”

“Take a seat, please,” the receptionist says, unperturbed by the guy’s apologies.

“So… it’s okay? I can still-”

“Just take a seat.”

Kurt can only see his back but the guy visibly breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thank you!” he calls out cheerfully as he heads towards the waiting area. There’s only a few seats left, and Kurt expects the guy to take the one of the girl who just left, but in a few quick steps, the guy crosses over to the couch Kurt is sitting on and takes a seat right next to him.

Kurt scoots over a bit but doesn’t say anything. He finds it way too awkward to converse with people who could potentially steal his chance at an amazing career opportunity.

“Hi,” the guy says, and when Kurt looks over he’s greeted with a friendly grin. “You here for an audience with the queen as well?”

“Huh?”

“The queen,” the guy repeats. “You know. Isabelle Wright.”

“Oh. Right,” Kurt says inanely. “I am.”

“Cool.” Another smile. “I’m Blaine, by the way.”

Kurt shakes the extended hand hesitantly. This is not going as planned. He was going to remember facts and study his resume in silence, not make conversation with a rival.

Especially not a rival with those looks. Blaine doesn’t look out of place at all, he seems to have stepped out right of an old movie with his big eyes and charming smile, dressed in a simple suit and dress shoes but with an added touch of a more modern, checkered bowtie.

While Kurt knows better than to be arrogant before going into an interview, he has to admit that none of the people coming and going for the past half hour seemed like threatening competition.

This guy, however? Kurt almost sees his resume go down the drain.

“Kurt,” he says with a tight voice.

“Nice to meet you.”

Kurt just nods in response, then lets his eyes wander back to the receptionist who is typing away on her computer.

“Are you nervous?” Blaine asks. “I kinda am. I mean-”

Kurt sighs. “Don’t take this the wrong way… Blaine,” he says sharply, “but I really don’t want to chit-chat right now.”

Blaine frowns for a tiny fraction of a second but his recovery time is pretty impressive.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He opens and clothes his mouth as if he is going to say something else but then he just settles on, “Um, good luck, I guess.”

Kurt swallows around a lump that suddenly sits in his throat. God, he’s being so unnecessarily catty, what is wrong with him?

“Sorry,” he says. “That- I didn’t-“

“Miss Wright will see you now.”

Kurt only blinks as the receptionist looks straight at him this time. Apparently he takes a few seconds longer to process her words because she rolls her eyes and asks, “Or do you not want the interview anymore?”

“No,” Kurt blurts, then hurries to add, “I mean yes! Yes, I want the interview. Of course I do.”

He gets up quickly and awkwardly follows the direction the receptionist’s arm is pointing at. Right before rounding the corner, Kurt remembers he forgot to at least wish Blaine good luck as well but when he turns, a group of employees blocks his line of sight.

Kurt shakes his head to focus. He might not ever see that guy again, anyway.

Because, ideally, Kurt is about to talk to his new boss in 3, 2, 1…

“Columbus!”