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Come as You Are, Go as You Want to Be

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Kurt's eyes were about to bug out of his head.

Attempting to maintain his façade of confident worldliness was no longer an option. The talent with which he was surrounded at Parsons every single day was overwhelming.

He felt like a hick from Lima: a Lima Loser, and he absolutely could not stand the feeling.

Turning, he left the room.

A mixer from the fashion department had bombarded Kurt's senses and he needed to find somewhere he could breathe.

Standing on the smoker's balcony, all the way to one side away from the two women who were producing clouds of noxiousness, Kurt focused out on the city. It was his dream, to come to New York and succeed. He'd imagined sweeping in and having all his ambitions fulfilled when people saw his designs.

Oh, naïveté.

"You'll get used to it."

The voice was gentle and masculine, two things Kurt had normally experienced as a dichotomy. He looked over his shoulder.

The man was handsome but casually dressed in a denim button down and jeans.

"And you are?"

The man smiled and he was suddenly adorable as well as handsome.

"Yeah, I'm mostly used to it. I'm a senior."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Okay. I'm Kurt Hummel. What's your name?" Kurt asked with a saccharine tone.

"I'm Sam Donovan," he said, moving up to stand beside Kurt at the railing.

"I feel kind of...lost," Kurt confessed.

"Where are you from?"

"Ohio."

"Fuck."

Kurt arched an eyebrow.

"Just...really conservative, right?"

"Understatement."

"But you're here now."

"Yes. But it's not... It's not what I thought," Kurt admitted. The city was amazing and the only looks he got on the street or subway seemed to be appreciative of his clothes or maybe even himself. But it was also dirty and noisy and here at Parsons he suddenly knew what it was to be ordinary because most of the boys he saw around him wore fabulous things and were obviously gay.

"You'll find your way."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. Sam gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"It's not like you're going to go running back to Ohio, right? So you just have to keep going."

Sighing, Kurt looked out onto the New York evening.

"Are you an art student or something? You don't look like..."

Sam chuckled. "I design for women. I don't usually wear my own stuff."

"...usually?"

Sam laughed out loud. "Sometimes it's fun!"

Kurt shook his head. He couldn't imagine wearing women's clothes... Well, not completely cross dressing anyway.

"Fashion has no gender."

Sam shimmied lightly. "That's the spirit!"

They stood together quietly for a minute.

"So, you've made it through to your last year. Any advice?"

"I'm probably not the best person to ask. But... Be yourself. Don't let anyone deter you. You know what they say: those who can, do, and those who can't, teach. There's a lot to learn here, but don't lose your voice."

Kurt faced away from Sam and rolled his eyes again. It seemed so cliché. But clichés and stereotypes existed for a reason, so Kurt tried to strip away his judgement and take the advice he'd asked for.

"Thank you. There is only one Kurt Hummel, and I won't forget that."