Kurt groaned as he felt a hand press firmly on his shoulder. “I'm sleeping!” he muttered softly.

“Dude,” Finn said hesitantly, eyeing Rachel who was observing the scene with a raised eyebrow. “You have to wake up! It's Sectionals!”

“Sectionals?” Kurt asked, suddenly alarmed. Quickly he shot up, his pajamas wrinkled from the restless sleep he'd had. He looked at his bedside clock. “And you didn't wake me up earlier?”

“Rachel said you'd wake up.” Finn said, as if it was all that simple. “She said you'd be up at the crack of dawn.”

“My alarm didn't go off,” he murmured, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Thanks for waking me up, anyway.”

“Get changed, Kurt,” Rachel said, looking sharp and awake. Kurt almost felt envious of her natural perkiness. “We'll be waiting outside. The coach will be here in quarter of an hour!”

Kurt flopped his head back on his pillow, irritated at himself for oversleeping. It was typical of him to spoil everything. He closed his eyes for a second as Finn and Rachel left his bedroom and then forced himself out of bed.

He picked up the outfit Carole had told him to leave out the night before and placed it on as quickly and neatly as he was able. The simple red polo shirt and neat black jeans complemented his skin tone nicely, and Kurt was actually pretty satisfied with the casual but formal competition wear that Mr. Schuester had decided on this year.

“Kurt!” He heard Rachel shout and, quickly styling his hair with a can of hairspray and his fingers, ran down the stairs, smiling as he noticed Rachel and Finn just walking out the door.

Rushing after them, he made it into the bus, smiling at Mercedes. She delicately patted her hand on the bus seat beside her. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief and hurried over to her, Finn and Rachel sitting in the two empty spaces behind them.

“Are you ready, boo?” Mercedes asked, genuine enthusiasm on her face.

Kurt nodded. “I think so. I stayed up all night thinking of different ways to showcase my talent. Oh god, I sound like Rachel.”

“Hey!” Rachel said from behind them, evidently eavesdropping on the conversation.

Kurt glared at her. “Rachel, has no one ever taught you manners?”

Rachel crossed her arms with a small noise of indignity. “Has no one told you that it's rude to talk badly of others?”

Kurt stared and then let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine,” he said, waving his hands into the air. “You raise a valid point.”

Rachel beamed, glad to have won their little argument. She shook her head and glanced at Mercedes, reaching her hand forward to lean on the back of the chair. “Are you nervous?” she finally asked them excitably.

“Petrified,” Kurt admitted.

Mercedes, Finn and Rachel stared at him as if he'd grown another head. “You're scared?” Finn eventually asked.

Kurt took a deep breath. “I haven't told anyone this before,” he exhaled. “But I suffer from stage fright.”

“That's ludicrous!” Rachel exclaimed. “You've performed on stage before.”

Mercedes frowned. “He's never had a solo, thinking about it.”

Kurt nodded. “It's the reason I turned down Mr. Schuester's offer.”

“But your voice is almost as good as mine!” Rachel proclaimed in astonishment.

Kurt smiled at the short brunette. “That's high praise from you, Miss Berry.”

The coach came to a standstill and the four friends exited, hurrying hastily to the choir room. Mr. Schuester stood proudly in the middle, clasping his hands together with excitement.

“We're going to kick some Warbler's ass!” Puck announced. “And the elderly hipsters. But in a nicer way.”

Mr. Schuester nodded, and led them all outside to another bus.

The competition hall was dark as they entered. Kurt's eyes flickered over to Santana, who was clutching Brittany tightly. He'd never have guessed Santana was afraid of the dark.

Finn was hugging Rachel closely, who was beaming at the competition hall and searching for their singing opponents.

Mercedes and Sam were standing suspiciously close and Kurt resisted the urge to stifle his fingers in his mouth, a happy sigh escaping him and causing Artie to raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?” he said defensively. “I'm excited.”

“Me too, yo.” Artie agreed, running a hand through his rather messy hair. “Let's get this show on the road!”

Tina and Mike were too busy smiling at each other to hear him.

“Guys, guys!” Mr. Schuester called out, gaining their attention. “We need to get changed into our competition clothes.”

“I just need to take this jacket off,” Kurt whispered to the nearest person to him, who happened to be Tina. “My competition outfit is already on underneath.”

Tina frowned at him. “It's not like you to not have a spare change of clothes.”

“I know,” Kurt admitted, with a soft exhale. “It's also not like me to sleep over my alarm.”

“Oh, you woke up late?” Tina asked, her voice sympathetic. “That's a shame.”

Kurt grinned.

Mr. Schuester led them into a spare room, where there were several conveniently placed tables and chairs. No mirrors, Kurt noticed with a slight annoyance. He couldn't check how dreadful his appearance was at this current point.

“All the boys are getting changed in here,” Mr. Schuester announced and the boys all started to remove their shirts.

Kurt frowned at the still present female members. “Shoo,” he said to them in a joking tone as he began to undo the zip on his jacket.

Santana cat called and Puck laughed, undoing his jeans to reveal plain boxers underneath, that did nothing to hide his huge package.

Kurt gulped. “Out!” he shouted at the girls, who looked at him with disappointment and then left the room, following Mr. Schuester, who had become red in the face.

“I need to go to the restroom,” Kurt murmured, feeling dizzy. “Did Mr. Schue tell us where it is?”

“Yes,” Mike said. “Down the hall and to the left. It's the first door.”

Kurt smiled gratefully at Mike, holding his head.

He undid his jacket, leaving him in his Sectionals performing clothes and stumbled down the hall, feeling even more light-headed. Reaching the restroom, he entered and gripped the sink, staring in the mirror with a heavy breath.

Kurt glanced up, disliking the image he saw. He looked dreadful. His hair was sticking up in places it shouldn't have been and he had dark shadows under his eyes. His red shirt was crumpled in places, and he saw that his jeans were still unzipped. Flushing red, he quickly did it up and glanced up at the mirror once more.

He held a breath as someone exited a cubicle.

I'm not alone, he remembered. This is a public restroom.
He peeped at the boy who walked to the sink, gelled black hair and hazel eyes.

Kurt clasped a hand to his mouth. No, he thought. It's not possible.

But it was, Kurt reasoned. He had seen that boy every day for the past couple of weeks on his laptop screen.

“Blaine?” he asked in disbelief.

The boy turned around, turning off the faucet, a frown on his face. “Oh my god,” the boy said. “You're… You're Kurt! Amazing Fanfiction writer Kurt. Gorgeous Kurt. Oh my god. I can't breathe.”

Kurt blushed, flustered at the praise. “That's me.”