Rachel tapped her foot on the floor. She sat on her bed starring at her phone. She hadn't seen her brother since last Christmas. She hadn't contacted him since his birthday in March. Even then she only sent a simple text. However, she loved him and wanted him to share this with her.

"Okay, Rachel," She said aloud to herself. "Just call him. You can do this." So she tapped the call button and took a deep breath before putting the phone to her ear.

Blaine Anderberry is a simple man. He simply wants order. Every morning he wakes at the same time, six sharp. Every night he goes to bed at the same time, eleven sharp. He keeps a strict schedule. After waking he irons first his socks, then pants, then shirt, and finally his vest. He always wears black ankle socks with Ted Baker's Aeolians in black leather. His pants are well-fitting black jeans. He always wears a button up long sleeved shirt and a vest. The colours and patterns vary, as is socially expected. He refuses to wear accessories of any kind such as ties and jewelry.

He does carry with him a black messenger bag in which he carries all kind of necessities. Shoe polish is kept within the bag in case of unforeseen shoe scuffing. Hand sanitizer is kept to be used after shaking hands and before eating. Lint rollers are to keep his pants and vest free of unsightly hairs and dust. The notebook is in case of a sudden idea or to keep track of important information. The small pocket watch doesn't need explanation.

Blaine has no qualms admitting to his disorders. He is a hoarder with severe OCD. Each room in his four-bedroom house has a specific purpose. Each container in each room has an even more specific purpose. Every detail of his life is controlled and neat. After all, Blaine is a simple man. He simply wants order.

He sat at his desk overlooking some documents sent to him by people at the History channel. They were doing a two-hour in-depth documentary on the ruling system of ancient Greece. As a historian he was often contacted by various television programs for his factual input.

Suddenly, his home phone rang. He stopped what he was doing and looked up in contemplation. It was no one's birthday. His editor didn't schedule an appointment. Neither parent was in ill health. Who could be calling? He stood and walked to the phone on his wall. He picked up the device and spoke into it, "Blaine Anderberry."

"Blaine. Hi. It's Rachel." She spoke quickly.

'Rachel.' He thought to himself. He hadn't been in contact with his sister since his birthday four months ago. "Rachel," he said in acknowledgement. "What do you need?"

With her brother it was better to get straight to the point rather than attempt to initiate any sort of small talk. "I've recently earned the lead in West Side Story." She was a Broadway actress, you see. While Blaine had left their childhood home in Washington to receive his History degree in California Rachel had gone to New York to seek her dreams.

"Maria." Blaine stated.

"Yes." She confirmed. "And I want you to be there opening night."

"I have work." Blaine answered. He was slightly confused. He and his sister did not stay in regular contact. The only time they even saw each other was during holidays. The same goes for the rest of his family. Why would she suddenly want him to watch her perform?

"I know. I was hoping you could get a week or so off to come up here." Rachel stated. Sensing that he would protest again, she continued. "I know that we don't speak often. But this is a major turning point in my career and in my life. I want you to be a part of it. I would really appreciate you being there, Blaine."

He was silent for a moment. "I suppose I could talk to my editor and to the museum director. I never take time off so a week shouldn't be a problem."

"Great!" She exclaimed. "You can stay with me."

He immediately declined the offer. "Thank you but I would rather not. You know how I am about order. I'll just stay in a hotel."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Of course I know. I lived with you for close to eighteen years, which is why I know that no hotel will be up to your standards. The towel rack will no doubt be off to the side of the wall. The one desk will be pushed in a corner. The three lamps will be in random corners." She laughed a little. "You couldn't handle that. I may not be as bad as you, but your habits did rub off on me a tad. I'll make sure that everything is nice and ordered for you when you get here. There will be a bottle of sanitizer centered on every surface, I promise."

He hesitated. "Fine."

"Good. I've already gotten you a ticket to the opening show. All you have to do is show up at the airport two weeks from now and I'll come get you."

"I'll be there."

"Thank you, Blaine. This really means a lot to me. And I can introduce you to my friend Kurt! He's playing Tony." She sounded especially excited after mentioning her Tony.

"I look forward to it." Blaine was surprised to find that he actually meant that. "I'll see you in two weeks."

"Okay, bye!" And with that, they both hung up.

The next day Blaine awoke promptly at seven and after taking an hour to assemble his clothes he called his editor.

"Wes Montgomery, talk to me."

"Wes. I'm going to New York for a week." As stated earlier, direct was his way.

"What?" An angry editor was not a happy editor. "No. You are not going to New York for a week. You're staying right here in LA until you finish your sequel. Or did you forget that you're on schedule? That book is set to release in February. That means that you have to have it finished by December at the latest. How do you expect to get it done along with your daily job and your TV consultations if you suddenly decide to take a vacation? And why have you, by the way. You're Mister Schedule."

Blaine took everything Wes said in before replying. "My sister is the lead in West Side Story. She wants me to be there opening night. I can take time off from the museum and my interview for the History Channel isn't until September. As for the sequel, I can write anywhere."

"Look, Blaine, this isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but Broadway doesn't work around my schedule. I'll just have to write a little faster the next two weeks to make up for any slack while I'm in New York. I wasn't asking for your permission, Wes. I just wanted to let you know."

Wes sighed. Blaine was so difficult to work with. Usually his condition was the problem. However, his stubbornness occasionally reared its ugly head as well. "Fine. Fine," He sighed again. "But you had better get two chapters in to me before you leave.

"Done," Blaine stated before hanging up.

The museum was just as easy to deal with. He had plenty of vacation time saved up and he merely had to inform the director. The History Channel was barely a factor. He compiled the necessary information and sent it to them.