“I have an idea for Sectionals, Mr. Schue,” Sam muttered casually, guitar slung over his shoulders.

“Yes?” Mr. Schuester responded, flicking through his notes. “What's your idea?”

“I was thinking… we could sing ‘Carry On Wayward Son'.”

“'Carry On My Wayward Son' is what you mean to say,” he corrected.

“No,” Sam said. “See, that's a common error. The title omits the ‘my'. It would be an awesome group closing number, though, right?”

“It would be interesting, for lack of a better word,” Mr. Schue replied. “I think we should stick with a song that showcases the pure vocal talent of New Directions.”

Sam sighed and nodded, an unsatisfied smile plastered on his face.

“Hey,” Mr. Schue murmured, noticing the displeasure Sam displayed. “Sectionals is going to be a piece of cake.”

Sam grinned, and headed to the choir room, Mr. Schue following closely behind him.

“Right!” He announced to the members, making them quieten down quickly. He grabbed his blackboard marker and wrote ‘SECTIONALS' on the board in capital letters.

“Yes!” Rachel whispered ecstatically. “Mr. Schue, I was thinking Finn and I could open with the wonderful ballad of-“

“Actually, Rachel,” Mr. Schuester interrupted. “I was thinking the winners of our duet competition could lead for this one.”

“You'd jeopardize our chance at winning Sectionals?” Rachel exclaimed in horror. “No, Finn and I must perform. We're the best performers.”

“I don't mind not singing,” Finn announced. “I find focusing on the dance moves kind of difficult. Quinn and Sam were pretty cool at performing.”

“Yes, give them a chance.” Mike spoke up from where he was sat next to Tina.

“I agree.” Kurt announced. “Rachel, while you are undoubtedly a star, if we show your vocal power off immediately we won't have anything to help us win Nationals. Quinn and Sam can perform a sweet duet.”

Rachel opened and closed her mouth a few times, considering how best to respond. “I'm not entirely sure…” she finally uttered.

“Shut it, Berry,” Santana said, rolling her eyes with irritation. “Quinn and Sam should take a duet. Lady Hummel over there should perform something and then a kickass group number featuring me, Asian Number One and Aretha.”

“I was thinking of Sam and Quinn performing a duet of their choice,” Mr. Schue announced, finally getting enough strength to speak up and voice his original idea. “Then, Santana, I think you should have a solo where Mike and Brittany can organize an amazing dance routine. Featuring the dancers will get us an almost definite spot to Nationals. Finishing with a group number with Mercedes and Tina on lead vocals.”

“Loving the idea, Mr. Schue,” Artie said in approval. “But the dance routine sounds kind of hard.”

“I'll make sure to make a routine that goes well with a wheelchair,” Mike reassured him. “Britt and I can be the main focus of the routine while Santana sings. It will be amazing.”

“Sounds it,” Artie agreed, amazed.

“This is going to be amazing, boo,” Mercedes whispered to Kurt, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“I think so too,” Tina said quietly, pleased that she'd been given a part in Sectionals for the first time. It felt nice to be included.

“So, that's sorted,” Mr. Schuester said. “You guys have to get this all sorted out by tomorrow. Quinn and Sam, decide on a duet quickly and, before you ask, it cannot be ‘Carry On My Wayward Son'-“

“-Carry On Wayward Son',” Sam interrupted.

“I was thinking more of a classical duet, one that's well-known to keep the audience involved.”

“We could do (I've Had) The Time of my Life'.” Quinn decided, grinning at Sam. “It's a wonderful duet, and I think Sam and I could do it justice.”

Mr. Schuester nodded. “Yes, that's a brilliant song choice, Quinn. Are you okay with that, Sam?”

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” Sam responded, earning a high five from Mike.

“It's a good film,” Mike defended himself, earning a short laugh from Tina who leaned on his shoulder affectionately.

“Santana, I was thinking you could do ‘Valerie' by the Zutons.” Mr. Schuester said.

“I can do that,” she replied confidently, linking her pinky finger with Brittany's. “We're going to own this competition.”

Brittany nodded. “Of course.”

Puck frowned. “Does that have a major dance number?”

“Yes.” Mr. Schue responded. “Everyone is going to be involved, Noah.”

Lauren frowned. “I don't do dancing.”

“C'mon, just this once,” Puck begged, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

“You owe me five boxes of chocolates for this,” Lauren told him.

“I'll get you anything you want.”

Lauren grinned.

“Okay, you guys can choose a group number. I expect you to have chosen by tomorrow.” Mr. Schue announced.

The Glee club members nodded, stood up and started to leave the room.

“Hey! Kurt!” Sam called, forcing the other boy to slow down and stay in the choir room. “I need to talk to you.”

Mercedes looked between Kurt and Sam with confusion. “What's going on here?”

“Nothing, Mercedes,” Kurt responded. “You go ahead, I can't go on a shopping spree with you today anyway.”

“If you're sure, boo.” Mercedes said, her forehead creased.

“'Cedes, it's only Sam.” Kurt reassured her. “He's just got to ask me something. I'll be fine.”

Mercedes nodded and exited the room, Sam watching her in awe.

“What?” Kurt asked, confused at his expression.

“Has she always been that pretty?”

Kurt grinned. “'Cedes is beautiful. I'm glad I'm not the only one who sees that.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “she's so caring as well. Wow.”

“Sam,” Kurt said, “you're dating Quinn.”

Sam bit his lip. “Am I not allowed to appreciate the beauty in others?”

“As long as you don't end up hurting someone, go ahead. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Right, so, we're going to meet my Tumblr friend at Sectionals ten minutes before the competition. He's going to wear something distinct so we can recognize him.”

“I'm both excited and terrified to meet him,” Kurt responded. “I've got to go home now, but thanks for telling me.”

“No problem, dude.” Sam grinned. “This weekend's going to be incredible.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed. “Yeah, it will be.”

He left the room, picking up his cell to check his Tumblr inbox. To his surprise, only three messages had been sent to his inbox. That was probably a sign telling him to get a move on and upload a new fic for his many followers.

“I'm desperate for a new fic! Please!”

“I'm working on something right now.” He replied, publishing it for all his followers to see.

“Your Destiel is fucking incredible. Have you ever considered writing pure smut?”

“There's always a balance of smut and plot in my fics. I find it grasps the audience. Who can resist smut with a good plot, after all? Or even smut with a bad plot?”

Finally, he found Blaine's message. He braced himself for whatever Blaine had said in response to his rather teary eyed ask.

‘Kurt, please don't say that. You're special. You're talented and smart and beautiful and caring and perfect. There are always options, even if you can't always see them. Trust me, Kurt, things do get better.'

Kurt didn't know what to say.

The word ‘beautiful' stood out, bolded and emblazoned in his brain.

He'd never been called beautiful before. It was reveling, wonderful and he felt invincible.

“You're the best friend I could ever ask for. Also, I'm really, really sorry I haven't been on for a few days, but I got a really bad cold and I couldn't go online… ”

He hit send and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Beautiful.

He, Kurt Hummel, was beautiful.