Rachel is disgusted when I tell her what had happened. She thinks it is absolutely appalling to pin creativity against each other because creativity is subjective and it isnt for one person to judge what is good and what isnt. I cant say that I dont agree with her. Albeit I dont necessarily like the situation, most of its negativity is clouding the fact that this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity for me - my own fashion line! The Hummel, or the whole nine yards, Kurt Hummel. Ive always thought my name had the potential of becoming an international brand, or I am too egoistical for my own reality.

"Youd think a person who is so passionate about fashion would know that you cant please everyone. Take Gaga for instance," says Rachel. Were at a bridal boutique. Ive had been on my drawing board for 3 whole days and I couldnt pen down a simple blouse let alone an entire original line. I was glad when Rachel called me down to give a few comments on a few of her choices. Most are bad, and I dont hide it.

"Maybe hes the deciding factor in the fashion world as opposed to just...a factor," I say. Hugh Shepard is after all one of New Yorks finest. Might even be the finest.

"Still, everybody had to start somewhere small. I hate when people who have made it to the peak forget their roots," says Rachel. She appears out of the dressing room in a strapless gown with a corset top. It looks like what a stripper would wear for a bridal theme night at the club. I shake my head in disapproval and Rachel retreats back in.

The petite salesgirl stands at the corner, pretending to be invisible. I have a feeling shes making sure Rachel doesnt stuff one of their dresses into her purse. I fight to call out how offended I am by the presumed reasoning of her being here, but I digress. I have far pressing issues in my life. "What am I going to do, Rachel? If i dont get picked, all the time I spent at Hugh Shepard would have been for nothing. I would have wasted 5 years of my life that I cant get back anymore. Not to mention Ill be unemployed."

"Kurt, youre going to get it," says Rachel. She steps out of the dressing room in a voluminous gown that could have hidden an entire village under her skirt. "Youre one of the best designers ever, and they wouldnt have picked you to be one of the five if they didnt believe you stood an equal fighting chance of winning. You just cant stress about it. You need freedom to create, right?"

That was something I said to her once. I smile shyly at my best friend and sigh. "You look like an inflated balloon. Take it off."

We spend the rest of the day going through all sorts of styles and cuttings but nothing really screamed Rachel Berry. By night time, the salesgirl proved to be useful by telling us we needed to leave. Good thing really. If I had to spend another hour in a room full of woman rambling about their upcoming perfect weddings, I would have started to question my priorities in life. We take a stroll in the streets, with Rachel holding tight onto my arm. I reminisce how this used to be us, a few weeks into New York, still so fresh and unwounded from the city. 5 years down the road, one is a semi Broadway star, the other is facing unemployment. Funny how the future only has two real outcomes.

When I get home that night, I manage to pen down one considerable look - a tight corset top with lace detailing paired with a voluminous skirt in neon yellow. I know Hughs taste, and I know this is something he would market. I spend the entire of next morning fixed at my drawing board, looking through last months issue of American Vogue for inspiration. Most people would call this copying, but in a fast paced generation, nothings ever original anymore. Everything is either vintage chic, or carbon inspired. I sigh tiredly at this disgusting notion I believe in.

Later that day, my phone rings. I am thrilled to hear my dad on the other line. Before I left for New York, I promised I would stay in touch with him and it would be like I never left. I even proposed Skype dinners but he couldnt get the computer on much less to Skype me. I ask how hes been but he is more invested in another topic; Finn and Rachel getting married.

"They told us a few days ago. Carols going nuts. Shes already offering to let Rachel wear her wedding dress," tells my dad. Maybe that would solve the issue of the dress then. "I guess now we have a reason to come to New York."

"Youve always had one, dad. Me," I point out. Ive always been very welcoming to my father visiting, at somewhere in my ups and downs of life, Ive even wished he was here with me but sometimes I forget I am not my fathers entire life even though i wish I was - as selfish as that sounds.

"So how are you doing, kid? Havent heard from you in a while," ask my dad. I am all of a sudden very cautious at what I respond. My fathers paternal instincts are as good as they come. I can be silent, sigh or say something - he would always know somethings wrong.

"Ive been good," I lie with the best of my ability. Im hoping for once Im not as bad a liar as Ive been told I am. My father is quiet, not doubt dismantling my words to see the root cause.

"You know the question that comes next, Kurt. Either you tell me whats wrong, or I make the I Am Your Father speech again," he tells me. I sigh heavily. The last thing I need is for my father to be worried about me. The whole point of growing up is that you get to lecture yourself.

"Nothings monumentally wrong, dad. Im just - facing some problems, thats all," I say.

"Boy troubles? Someone not treating you right?"

"No, dad. You know Im not dating anyone," I say.

"Then I can help you. All you have to do is tell me," he says. I sigh again, and at this point i think he receives the message. "Okay, I dont want to pressure you or anything but just - remember what I always taught you."

"Clouds come and go, but the sun stays. I know, dad."

"Good, I have to go. Carols making me go line dancing with her. You make sure you stay good until I see you at their wedding, got that?" I bid him a resistant goodbye and the line goes dead. My father is amazing at a lot of things, solving my problems isnt one of them. Hes good at motivational words and though theyre comforting, they too are like clouds. Come, and then go.

Ive build up quite the hunger by night time. I am about to settle on some Chinese takeaway when my phone rings again. I contemplate on letting it go to voicemail, but then Ill have to deal with returning the call later or tomorrow. Best to always settle things immediately then let them linger. When i answer the phone, I wish I hadnt. I am in a real anti-people mood today.

"Youre bothering me," I say into the phone and Rachel laughs it off as if I was joking. Only a small part of me was.

"Youre funny, but youre going to be glad I called," says Rachel. Her words sound promising so I let her go on. "Okay so you know how Finn and I are getting married?"

"I know youre never going to get tired of saying it," I remark.

She blatantly ignores my words. I wonder exactly how many years must a person spend with me before they build up enough selective indifference like Rachel has for me. "We wanted to do something before our wedding day. You know my dads own a beach house down at Southampton?"

"Now youre just bragging," I say. The absolute silence from the other line tells me Rachel is not impressed with my sarcasm especially when I can taste the excitement in the tone of her voice. I vow not to interrupt her again and she thanks me.

"Well, they decided to gift it to Finn and I as our wedding present!" tells Rachel. I am truly trying to find the excitement in my own voice, but the search leads to absolutely no avail. "I know you must think Im bragging at this point, but here is when this news will excite you.

"Finn and I want to do a little wedding retreat for one whole week," says Rachel. "And were inviting all of our bridesmaids and groomsman along."

"Okay, so am I a bridesmaid or a groomsman?"

"It doesnt matter, silly. Please say yes! Were doing it 3 weeks from now, then well have a buffer week in the city before the wedding. Please say yes."

A whole week by the beach sounds so appealing right about now. I would do well with some sun in my face and the fresh scent of seawater as opposed to always smelling urine right outside my apartment building. "I really want to, Rachel, but you know how swamped I am with work. Plus, 3 weeks from now would be cutting it a little close to my deadline. I dont know if I have the time-"

"Thats the beauty of you getting to work from home, right? You can bring your sewing machines or magic or whatever along with you," says Rachel. She wouldnt be Rachel Berry if she wasnt persistent. "You could use a break, Kurt. I know how stressed out you are and I really think some time away from the city would do you good. Maybe come back with a better perspective? Nothing puts things in focus more than a vacation, right?"

I am torn between two scenarios. One, I stay in the city with the knowledge of my friends partying it up at the beach while I stay in this overbearing town practically blowing my brains out worrying about my career, or worry the same except be by the beach. I sigh wearily, and hating how Im treating this like the most life or death decision to make when I know that people would die to get a vacation. Its funny, people kill to be in the city but count their days for a vacation. Rachel is a true testament. I know she wont back down until I give her the answer that she wants, so with resistance and maybe a little excitement, I say yes. She is ecstatic, and her joy is infectious. I havent smiled the entire day.

When she hangs up, I look down at my drawing board and mock the naked figures waiting to be clothed by me. I get to go to the beach!

The 3 week stretch could not have go by at a more glaciers pace. Partly because I spend the entire time hell bent over my drawing board, and the other time stitching and working on my garments for the Devils approval. I went back to the office on one of the days to pick up a few things I left behind and by then, the whole office had heard of Hughs hasty decision to practically terminate an entire department. I tried to fill the others in as much as I can, but the entire time I was there I felt like I was being monitored through the CCTV cameras and that my presence here is not only inappropriate, but forbidden.

Mendel tells me how the entire office is walking on eggshells, all fearing that the same fate awaits them. I feel awful being the poster child for Hugh to assert his dominance to his subordinates. As if people didnt fear looking into his expensive glasses enough. When I left the office that day, the sinking reminder that I am no longer an employee here hits me like a bus almost did today when I was deep in reverie. I tried calling Rebecca to find out her progress, but all I got was her voice mail instead.

Soon the time for Rachels wedding retreat arrives. I spend the last few days in the city putting finishing touches on my looks. On the last night before taking off for the Hamptons, I stand back and admire what my creative brain has produced and though everything looks amazing, nothing feels me. Like an out of body experience. Can it win, I dont know. Will Hugh love it, I am positive of that fact. That was my driving force after all, for Hughs approval. I couldnt sleep that night, not that Ive been getting much sleep at all really. Most of my nights since being dismissed has been conscious and worried, and filled with heavy sighs.

My things are ready by morning. I did not an unorthodox alarm clock to wake me up this morning because I havent slept. My body feels like somebody attached a 10 pound boulder onto it and my head feels like there is an alien inside trying to break itself free. I receive a call from Rachel telling me to be downstairs in a couple of minutes. She and Finn have offered to drive me there and I am glad. I dont think any car rental facility would rent a car to someone who looks this weary. I make a promise to myself to try and relax as much as I can in this getaway because when I get back, its practically judgement day and I dont know if Ill look right for it.

Rachel and Finn are already waiting by the sidewalk when I emerge out of my building into the sticky, humid atmosphere of the city. My stepbrother hasnt aged a day since high school. His hair still resembles a shark fin and he still wears his signature side smirk, though I think he might have grown even taller which is saying a lot because he was taller than most average high school students back when we were one.

"You do realize youre only going for a week, not moving there forever, right?" intones Rachel though her snarky remark about my luggage does not impress me. Not in the tired mood Im in anyway. She wraps me in a comforting hug and though it should only be a greeting hug, it feels like shes trying to rid all my worries away with affection. Fat chance. Finn is next to embrace me in his damn long arms. Sometimes I think this is how it feels like to be hugged by a giant. I scold him for not letting me know first before he proposed to Rachel and he snickers shyly.

I climb into the car and immediately wished I hadnt. It reeks in here. There are candy wrappers all over the backseat. A colony of ants are grouped at a small piece of chocolate stain on the other end of the seat and I practically jumped out of the sunroof. Rachel explains how this is Finns car and it all make sense again. His room make this car look like the Garden of Eden.

"Are we all ready?" ask Finn. I make a remark about how Im ready, but the state of his car is not. He ignores me. Rachel is practically bouncing in her seat and though I am weary and a little disgusted to be in this car, I am excited for this getaway. A break from reality is just what I need. "Hamptons here we come!" screams Rachel as Finn pulls away from my building.

I stare out the back of the car and watch as the city shrinks into a less intimidating silver monster. It is funny how something that looks so pretty from far, can be so deadly up close. I love New York, but it dehumanizes you. It makes you feel like a robot - like with a systematic program with no element of spontaneity.

As the city grows smaller behind us, so does my worries.

"Im surprised you agreed to come at all," says my brother. "You know, with- Ow! What was that for?" Rachel is practically stabbing Finn with her eyes and all I can do is frown at this little altercation. "He means with the work you have to do," interjects Rachel. She scowls at Finn again but I am far too exhausted to be concerned. The cars rusty motor sounds start to become therapeutic for me and before I can respond anything, the motion rocks me to sleep with my last blur sight of Rachel whispering, "Shut up," to Finn.