the sky is broken

Most of the time, Kurt likes his job. Genuinely. There's little more that pleases his various neuroses and pent-up energy than working in a clothing store that operates on commission. It doesn't matter what shape or background a person has, Kurt Hummel can find something in the store that's a hell of a lot more flattering on their person than whatever they came in wearing.

But for the past couple of weeks, the clothing store's offered very little catharsis for the ache that constantly twists at his heart, dragging down his smile and honestly worrying him when it comes to whether or not they'll even want to keep him around at this rate.

He's not the best salesman these days.

Something about not wearing a smile as soon as people drop in.

Still, he does the best he can, and some loyal customers still seek him out knowing that he can put a good look together even when feeling glum. Chewing on his lower lip, he mills through the store, folding clothes back up and hanging them on the proper racks when the automatic sliding doors open for a familiar face. Glancing over his shoulder, Kurt manages a faint grin, setting down a jacket and making his way on over.

"Haven't seen you in a while," he says, and the smile just feels weighty on his face, but he's trying.