Carson sat in his seat waiting for glee club to start, eavesdropping on Quinn and Finn having an argument. Quinn was apparently none too pleased with the fact that Finn wasn't helping her pay her numerous doctor's bills related to her pregnancy.

"We have to start paying these doctor's bills, Finn, or they're going to go to a collection agency, and my parents will find out that I'm with child. YOUR child," she said irritably. Carson wondered how stupid Quinn thought her parents were that they wouldn't start noticing eventually, anyway. Not everybody was blessed with the stupidity of Finn Hudson, after all.

"Alright, guys, we're doing a new number for sectionals," said Mr. Schue as he entered the choir room. What a fucking shock, thought Carson sarcastically. They were always doing a new number for sectionals. At this rate, they would still be picking numbers for sectionals long after sectionals was over.

"I know that pop songs have sort of been our signature pieces," continued Mr. Schue, passing out copies of the sheet music, "but I did a little research on past winners, and it turns out that the judges like songs that are more accessible. Stuff they know. Standards, Broadway..."

"Defying Gravity?" Kurt said eagerly, as he and Carson received their sheet music. "I have an iPod Shuffle dedicated exclusively to selections from Wicked. This is amazing." Carson smiled at him. It was true, he did. Carson had asked him once why he didn't just make a playlist for Wicked on his regular iPod, and Kurt had replied that Wicked was too special to be grouped in with all the other, common music on his other player. 

Mr. Schue gave Kurt a tight smile. "Think you can handle it, Rachel?" he asked, looking at her. What the fuck? Carson thought, looking at Kurt. Kurt's face was rapidly falling and Carson could practically feel the disappointment and pain radiating off of him. Kurt loved that song. LOVED IT. And here was Mr. Schue just giving it to Rachel without even asking if anyone else would want it.

"It's my go-to shower song. It's also my ringtone," Rachel bragged. Carson wanted to slap her.

"Great place for you to sing it, since nobody is able to hear you over the running water," said Carson. He heard several students giggle at his words. Ah, so he wasn't the only person who couldn't stand Rachel. Rachel herself just glared at him.

"Why does she automatically get the song?" Carson asked Mr. Schue. "How is that fair? Shouldn't anyone else who might want it get a chance?"

Mr. Schue sighed. "Carson, there isn't enough time to rearrange the song for-"

"There would BE enough time if we weren't always wasting time doing stupid assignments that don't help our progress toward sectionals one bit," Carson retorted. "And Rachel is NOT the only person who can sing that song."

"It's in my range," Rachel said, as if that settled the problem.

"It's in my range, too," Kurt said quietly. So quietly that Carson was sure he was the only one who heard.

The topic of discussion turned to the fact that the school wouldn't pay for a handicapable bus for Artie for the trip to sectionals, the issue of who was singing "Defying Gravity" completely forgotten. Carson had never wanted to kick Will Schuester in the balls more.

*****************************

"What if he says no?" Kurt asked nervously for what felt like the hundredth time, as he and Carson made their way toward the choir room for glee club.

"Then he's an asshole and we get Figgins involved," Carson replied. "They can't NOT let you audition for the song. That's completely unfair."

Kurt nodded. He knew Carson was right. He had to be. Carson was always right. They settled in their seats and waited for the meeting to begin.

"Go on," Carson whispered encouragingly as Mr. Schue entered the room. "Now's the best time, before he gives us yet another number to do for sectionals."

Kurt took a deep breath and raised his finger in the air. "I have something I'd like to say," he said as boldly as he could manage through his nerves. "I want to audition for the Wicked solo," he said, standing up for emphasis.

"Kurt, there's a high F in it," Mr. Schue protested.

"That's well within my range," Kurt said, trying his best to ignore the chorus of giggles that sounded behind him. They could laugh all they wanted, but he knew he could sing that song. He'd been doing since he was a kid.

"Well, I think Rachel is gonna be fine for the female lead," Mr. Schue said. "But I'm happy to have you try out something else, Kurt. We'll make sure you get a killer high note." His tone of voice indicated quite clearly that the subject was closed.

But I don't want anything else. I want "Defying Gravity." Or at least the chance to try out for it. 

Knowing he was defeated and that, as usual, it didn't matter what he wanted, he sat back down. He didn't have to look at Carson to know that his twin was probably blind with rage right now. Carson's hand brushed his and he took it, feeling him squeeze it reassuringly.

Mr. Schue went on to say something about how everyone was selfish for not caring whether or not they could get a handicapable bus for sectionals, and that as a learning tool they were all hereby ordered to spend three hours a day in wheelchairs that had been obtained from a tag sale at a nursing home. Kurt momentarily forgot his depression over "Defying Gravity" and exchanged a look with Carson. He knew they were both thinking the same thing. Namely, that the money spent on the wheelchairs could have just gone toward the bus.

"Wait, there's twelve of us who need chairs and only eleven chairs," said Rachel, counting the chairs as they were wheeled in.

Mr. Schue counted them himself, sighing. "You're right." He turned to where Kurt and Carson sat, looking between the two of them. "How about you guys share, ok?"

They shrugged in unison. It was probably easier just to go with it then to argue. "I'll wheel you," Carson said, gesturing for Kurt to sit in the chair. Kurt smiled and sat.

"My own personal chauffer," he said brightly, trying to act like he'd forgotten all about the song he wasn't allowed to try out for. 

"And I do it happily," said Carson.

****************************

"Dad? I have to talk to you about something," Carson said later that day as he entered his father's garage and looked around. "Where's Kurt?" Kurt usually helped out at the garage in the afternoons, working on whatever needed doing. Carson didn't want him around for this conversation, though.

"He went to change his clothes," Burt answered, taking a seat at a table piled high with junk. "What's up, kid?"

"Well, it's about Kurt," Carson began, sitting across from him.

"Is this about what happened in glee club today?" Burt asked.

Carson nodded. "How did you know?"

"Kurt told me all about it today. Said that you guys were doing some song for a competition and he wasn't allowed to sing it 'cause it's a girl's song."

"Right," Carson said, "and I think it's complete bullshit."

"Hey! Language," Burt warned.

"Sorry, but really, it's completely unfair. Mr. Schue just gave the song to Rachel automatically without even asking if anyone else wanted to try for it. He does this kind of sh...crap all the time, and it's getting ridiculous," said Carson. "Kurt has every right to audition for that song. There's got to be something we can do. Maybe you could talk to Principal Figgins. I'd do it myself, but they'd never listen to me. Although they should, because the entire school would be run way better if they did."

Burt nodded. "Know what? You're right."

"I know. It's favoritism and it needs to stop," said Carson.

"I'll go to that school tomorrow and have a little chat with your principal," Burt said, his mind made up. "This is discrimination. Sexism or something. They can't do that."

Carson smiled. "Good."

****************************

Kurt couldn't believe his ears at the next glee club meeting when Mr. Schue announced out of the blue that he had decided to give Kurt a chance to audition against Rachel for "Defying Gravity." 

"Is this some sort of joke?" he asked incredulously.

"No, Kurt," replied Mr. Schue. "It's not. After a long discussion with your father and Principal Figgins, I've realized that it isn't fair at all for everyone not to get a chance to audition for songs they're interested in." Kurt smiled and exchanged a happy look with Carson, who was sitting on his lap due to the lack of his own wheelchair. Carson looked just as ecstatic as Kurt felt at the moment as he hugged him around the neck.

"But, wait," Rachel protested. "This isn't fair!"

"I know this is gonna be hard on you, Rachel, but I can't in good conscience preach about the importance of helping Artie and reject Kurt's request out of hand," Mr. Schue replied.

"Damn right you can't," Carson muttered under his breath. Kurt wished he would stop moving around so much in his lap. He had been doing it for the entire club meeting, and Kurt was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be enjoying it as much as he was. Thankfully, the prospect of possibly getting his very own solo was giving him something else to think about besides Carson's warm, pleasant weight in his lap. 

"So you're giving him my part?" Rachel complained. "This is totally unfair! You gave me the part!"

'And I will give it to you again if you can sing the song better than Kurt," replied Mr. Schue.

"And she won't," Carson whispered in Kurt's ear. "Because she can't." He shifted in Kurt's lap again, and Kurt tried not to concentrate on that.

"Now, all of you are gonna judge," Mr. Schue said, addressing the entire club. "And in the spirit of full access, each  of you is going to get a vote. Whatever singer has the most votes gets the part."

"This isn't going to be about talent, Mr. Schuester," Rachel whined. "It's gonna be a popularity contest!"

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. "Stop right there," he said to Rachel. "Mr. Schue? If I may?" He carefully wheeled himself and Carson into the center of the room and faced the rest of the club members as Carson crossed his arms and glared at them.

"We all know I'm more popular than Rachel, and I dress better than her," Kurt began, full of bravado now that he may possibly be earning something he wanted for a change. "But, I want you all to promise me that you're going to vote for whoever sings the song better. Raise your right hand."

Everyone except Brittany raised their right hands in obedience. "Your right hand, Brittany," Kurt said patiently. "Repeat after me. I promise to vote for whoever sings the song better."

"I promise to vote for whoever sings the song better," everyone repeated in bored voices. Kurt smiled and wheeled himself back into place. "It's ON," he informed Rachel as he passed by her. Carson nodded and intensified his glare in her direction.

And it certainly was on. There was no way, Kurt decided, that Rachel was going to win this thing. If he had to practice day and night to get the song perfect, he would do it. Kurt Hummel was finally going to get something he wanted if it killed him.

**************************

"Your audition is tomorrow, Kurtsie," Carson said cheerfully, watching Kurt through the mirror as Kurt went through his nightly facial routine. "I, for one, am gleefully anticipating watching you metaphorically kick Trollberry's ass and wipe the floor with her."

Kurt forced himself to smile at his twin. "Yeah, it's...it's gonna be so much fun," he said, trying desperately to pretend everything was fine.

But it wasn't. It wasn't fine. Carson didn't know that there would be no victory over Rachel tomorrow. He didn't know that there wouldn't be one because Kurt just couldn't go through with it. He didn't know about the harassing phone call their dad had received at work about Kurt. It was probably best if Carson never knew. He would just flip out and get angry, and what good would that do? 

Unfortunately, Carson was nothing if not psychic when it came to sensing Kurt's moods. "What's wrong?" he asked, frowning. 

"Nothing," Kurt said, plastering a smile on his face. "Just....nerves. I'm nervous about the audition tomorrow."

Carson was silent for a minute, as though he knew there was more that Kurt was't telling him, but he only smiled back. "Oh, well...you'll do fine. You're a better singer than Rachel by far. Plus, nobody likes her."

"Right," Kurt mumbled, putting away all his creams and getting into bed.

"Of course I'm right," Carson said, putting his notebook away and turning out the light. "You're going to stun everybody when they hear you sing."

He was right, as always. Unfortunately, it wasn't for the reason he should have been. Kurt had made his decision.

He was standing in front of the entire glee club, his posture perfectly straight as he closed his eyes and concentrated on the song. The song he had been singing for years. He knew that song like the back of his hand. He knew every line, every rise and dip of a note, everything. It felt wrong. It felt WRONG to intentionally screw up that high note that he knew he could reach. It felt like a knife through his soul, actually. But he had to do it. He had to. He couldn't get this part and perform it at sectionals knowing that it would open his dad up to all kinds of harassment he never signed up for. That was why he was throwing this audition. 

The faces of his peers were a mixture of shock and disappointment and confusion as he flubbed the note. He looked for Carson's face among them. He wasn't there. Where was he? He needed him now more than ever.

"Carson?" he called out, forgetting to finish the song. "Carson, where are you? CARSON?"

And then there were arms around him. Comforting arms. And a familiar voice telling him "Shhh" and "I've got you" and "It will be ok." Kurt nestled into the arms, Carson's arms, he knew, and sighed as peace washed over him and everything faded to black.

When he woke up in the morning still in Carson's arms, he wasn't sure at first which parts had been a dream and which had been real.

*****************************

"Now remember," Carson said, rubbing circles on Kurt's back as they waited for the auditions to start. "We give Trollberry two whole minutes to cry like a toddler before we start rubbing it in her face."

Kurt nodded, not cracking a smile like he usually would have whenever Carson made a joke at Rachel's expense. Something was bothering him, and Carson wasn't sure it was just nerves. It was something bigger. It had to be. He could sense it.

"All right, welcome to the glee club's first official Diva-Off," said Mr. Schue. "Let's get this party started!" he said, as everyone applauded.

Kurt was up first. Carson sat up straight in his chair and gave him an enthusiastic smile and a thumbs up. You can do it, Kurtsie. I know you can.

And he sang it just as beautifully as he always had. That voice was truly a gift, Carson thought. Angels only wished they sounded like Kurt. He didn't understand why Mr. Schue didn't recognize this and hardly ever gave Kurt opportunities to shine. It was truly a travesty. Carson waited, antipating the glory high note that Kurt had worked so hard on. The one he had been so excited to hit, because it meant he would win.

So when Kurt went shockingly off-key and blew the note, Carson thought there must be some sort of mistake at first. He had misheard. He had to have. There was no way Kurt had blown that note. He looked around at everyone else, expecting their faces to be full of awe, because even if he had misheard, surely they had not. They must have heard him hit that note, right?

But no. Everyone looked either surprised or sad, even Rachel. What the fuck had just happened? How had Kurt blown that note? There was no way he could have. Carson himself had heard him practicing it for days, hitting it over and over again. Not only in the past week, but for years. Which meant that Kurt must have done it on purpose.

And Carson thought he had a pretty good idea why. Everyone who had been giving him shit for it being a girl's song was to blame, especially fucking Will Schuester and his blatant favoritism toward Rachel. Carson was, to say the least, furious.

Kurt finished singing and sat down quickly, looking down at his shoes. Carson reached for his hand, but Kurt pulled it away as Mr. Schue gestured for Rachel to take her turn. She had barely gotten past the first line of the song when Kurt quietly got up and left the room. Carson watched him go, wanting badly to follow him and make everything ok. He wasn't sure he could. He knew how badly Kurt had wanted that song. He decided he was going to give everyone a piece of his mind first.

He seethed throughout Rachel's audition, refusing to clap when she finished. Fuck her.

"Where's Kurt?" she asked as she sat down, noticing Kurt's absence.

"He's not here, Rachel. He left," said Carson. "If I had to make a guess, I'd say he's somewhere feeling like shit about himself, and before I go after him, I have something I have to say." He got up and turned around to face them.

"You know that he blew that note on purpose, right?" he said angrily, glaring around the room. "He can sing "Defying Gravity" like NOBODY can fucking sing it, because he's been singing it for years. Not to mention the fact that he spent HOURS practicing it for the past week, and he hit that high F every time. But apparently, he felt like he needed to screw it up on purpose, because he didn't want people judging him like his supposed "friends" do. Like his own TEACHER did," he said pointedly, glaring in Mr. Schue's direction. "You all laughed at him when he dared to ask for a chance to audition. You LAUGHED. Every last one of you LAUGHED. I hope you're happy being assholes, because that's what you all are." 

Finished, he stalked out of the choir room to go find Kurt. He didn't even glance behind him to see how his speech had been received. Probably not well, if he had to guess. But fuck them.

****************************

Kurt had left the school without even bothering to collect his books from his locker. It was times like these he appreciated living only a twelve minute walk from the high school. He let himself inside the house and leaned against the door, his face in his hands. What he wouldn't give for his mother to be here right now. 

He took a deep breath and headed down the hall, straight for his father's bedroom. He needed his mom right now, even if it was in the smallest of ways, and this was the only way he was going to get that. Silently, he crossed over to the broken, empty dresser across from the bed, running his fingers lightly over the dull wood that hadn't been polished in years. He hooked his fingers into the handles of the top drawer and gently pulled it open, trying not to break it any further. The familiar scent of his mother's perfume instantly hit his nose, and he breathed in deeply one time, allowing all of the comforting memories he associated with that perfume to wash over him. He opened each drawer, one by one, until they were all pulled out, the smell wafting out into the room in waves. Kurt sank down onto the floor until he was leaning up against the bed, wrapping his arms around his knees and closing his eyes. He let out a shuddering breath and imagined that his arms were his mother's, that it was her who was holding him as he started to cry. That she was rocking him like she used to do when he was little and came crying to her about how he couldn't understand why some of the kids at school were so mean to him. That she was whispering in his ear that no matter what anyone said, she loved him and was proud of him and he was perfect just the way he was. He tried to imagine what she would say now, if she knew why he had flubbed his audition on purpose.

The sound of footsteps entering the room broke into his thoughts. Kurt didn't look up or open his eyes. He didn't have to in order to know whose footsteps they were. The overwhelming feeling of safety and comfort he felt as Carson sank down beside him and pulled him into an embrace was so strong it almost broke him. 

Neither of them said anything for a long time. Kurt just melted into Carson's arms and cried, letting himself fall completely apart and knowing it was ok, because his brother would put him back together again, just like he always did. Just like Kurt would never hesitate to do for him. Just like they both had promised their mother they would do.

"I wanted it so much," Kurt whispered as his crying finally tapered off into sniffles. "So much, but I...I couldn't..." He wasn't sure what to say. Carson still didn't know about the phone call to the garage, and Kurt didn't want him to. He didn't want Carson worrying about him even more than he already did.

"Shhh," Carson soothed, his fingers stroking gently through Kurt's hair. It was something Kurt would go off on anyone else for, but it felt really nice when Carson did it. "It's ok. Rachel may have gotten it, but we both know you're the only one in that club who can sing that song the way it was meant to be heard. And that's all that matters right now." Kurt nodded, holding on to Carson for dear life.

"Just one more thing, and then I'll shut up," Carson said quietly. Kurt looked up at him through his eyelashes.

"You shouldn't have done that. I mean, I understand why you did it, but...you think too much about everyone else instead of yourself, Kurt. You can't just never do what you want because of what other people might think. You'll never be able to enjoy your life if you hold yourself back because of them."

Kurt nodded, breathing in deep. Carson didn't smell like their mother's perfume, of course, but he still smelled wonderful and familiar. Like home. He felt Carson's embrace become ever so slightly tighter. He said nothing else, but Kurt could feel the unspoken "I love you" just the same.

**************************

"Ballad," said Mr. Schue, as he wrote the word on the white board. "From Middle English "balade." Who knows what this word means?"

"It's a male duck!" said Brittany proudly. Carson resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If he kept doing that, they might stay that way, and that would be terrible. 

Kurt raised his hand. 

"Kurt?" asked Mr. Schue.

"A ballad is a love song," answered Kurt knowledgeably. 

"Sometimes," said Mr. Schue, "but they don't always have to express love. Ballads are stories set to music, which is why they are the perfect storm of self expression. Stories and music are the way we express feelings that we can't get out any other way.."

Carson yawned, wondering where Curls was going with this boring ballad shit.

"Ok, now sectionals are in a few weeks," said Mr. Schue, "and there's a new rule this year. We have to perform a ballad."

"Looks like my weekly letter to the Ohio Show Choir committee finally paid off," said Rachel happily. Carson forgot his vow to stop rolling his eyes.

"Ok, so here's our assignment for the week," said Mr. Schue. Fucking hell, why do we always have assignments? Is this a class? No, this is a club. A CLUB.

"I'm going to pair you off, and I want you to pick a ballad to sing to your partner," Mr. Schue said.

Fuuuuuuck. I don't want to do this. Maybe if I get paired with Kurt, but there's no way in fuck i'm singing to anyone else here.

"Your partners will be chosen by fate," he continued. "I put all your names in this hat. Whoever you choose is your partner."

One by one, the students came up to the hat that Mr. Schue had placed on top of the piano. Carson very nearly groaned out loud when fucking Finn reached into the hat and pulled out Kurt's name.

"Mr. Schue, I don't think I can do this with another guy," he heard Finn complain. Great, then don't. I'll take Kurt. Um..I mean...yeah...whatever.

"The fates have spoken, Finn," replied Mr. Schue. Fuck you, no they haven't.

Unfortunately, Kurt and Finn being paired up wasn't even the worst part. No, the worst part was when he realized that everyone else had already been paired off except for him and Rachel.

Yes. Not only was he expected to sing a stupid ballad, but he was expected to sing it with Rachel Fucking Berry. 

No. NO. NO, NO, NO.

"Looks like I get you, Carson," Rachel said, sounding even less happy about this than Carson was. He crossed his arms and glared down at his sneakers. There was no fucking way that he was singing with Rachel. He would die first. On the list of things he would rather do than sing with Rachel Berry, diving into a pool full of poisonous tarantulas and boa constrictors was right up there in neon ink with hearts and smiley faces drawn around it. 

He heard her say something about meeting her in the choir room the next afternoon to start rehearsing, but he barely paid attention. Because he wasn't planning on showing up. He actually, honestly forgot all about it until the morning after he failed to appear for rehearsal, when the door to the journalism classroom flew open and there stood Rachel, her face a cloud of irritation.

"Carson," she said angrily, stomping her way over to the desk where he sat with his laptop and placing her hands firmly on her hips. "We were supposed to start rehearsing our ballad yesterday afternoon. I had already made a list of ballads which perfectly show off my vocal range, since, no offense, I highly doubt that you have the musical know-how to make any useful suggestions for this assignment. All you had to do was show up. Where WERE you?"

Carson looked at her, amused, and removed his glasses slowly. He put on what he hoped looked like a sincere, sorrowful expression and clasped his hands together on the desk. He was going to have some fun and screw with her a little.

"Berry," he said, "Don't get your hideous knee socks in a knot. I'm really very sorry that I didn't show up for what I'm sure would have been a riveting hour of pretending to care while you screeched your way through the Great American Songbook while wearing an expression on your face not unlike that of a person trying to give birth to a fully grown elephant. Really, there's nothing I would have rather been doing, especially since I had just purchased a fancy new set of earplugs for the occasion. But, you see, I actually had a terrible case of the runs."

Rachel glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "The runs?"

"Yes, Berry, the runs. The trots. The green apple splatters. Diarrhea," he said calmly, thoroughly enjoying the disgusted look on her face that only contorted more the longer he talked. "It was awful. Shit everywhere. Kind of like glee club, now that I think about it. Anyway," he said seriously, as Rachel's nauseated expression slowly turned back into a glare, "I'm sorry. Kind of. Not really. Actually, since this ballad assignment isn't related to sectionals, it's a waste of my and everyone else's time."

"It IS related to sectionals, Carson," Rachel fired back. "Mr. Schue said that we have to sing a ballad at the competition, and-"

"Right, well, he should probably choose one for us to sing, then, instead of wasting a week having us sing to each other. And you should probably find yourself a new partner if you want to participate, because I don't think I will." He gave her a dismissive hand wave and put his glasses back on. "You may feel free to leave my classroom."

Rachel looked like she wanted to say something, but she only shook her head and turned around, stalking out of the classroom. Carson rolled his eyes. He would have to work on breaking that habit.

***********************

Thankfully, Rachel somehow managed to partner herself up with Mr. Schue for the rest of the week. He had no idea what she said to him, but Mr. Schue didn't say a thing to Carson, so he figured she had made up some excuse for not working with him. Whatever. It worked for him. He was getting free entertainment over the fact that Rachel was apparently crushing on Mr. Schue, if the extremely embarrassing rendition of "Endless Love" that she made him sing with her in glee club the next day was any indication. He almost felt sorry for the poor bastard. Almost.

It was an amusing distraction from the fact that Kurt was spending so much time with Finn because of the stupid assignment. Carson did not approve of this arrangement at all, and made it a point to stick around school on the days when Kurt and Finn were using the auditorium so that he could catch Kurt as he was leaving, thereby cutting down on his time with Finn as much as possible. 

"I think the club should do something for Finn and Quinn," Kurt said one night as he and Carson settled into bed. "Sing them something."

"Uuum, why would we want to do that?" asked Carson.

"To show them that they've got us to depend on," answered Kurt sleepily. "They're going through such a tough time right now, especially with Quinn being kicked out of her house and all."

"Maybe I'm just a jerk, but why should I give a shit about either one of them?" asked Carson. "Neither of them have ever been particularly wonderful to me in the past. Or to you, for that matter. So why should we waste our time singing songs of encouragement to them?"

"It would just be a nice thing to do," Kurt said. 

"Well, you and the rest of the club do what you want, but I think I'll pass," replied Carson. The very thought of having to even pretend to be nice to Finn almost made him break out in hives. Besides, his sympathy for either him was basically non-existent. Quinn was a lying, scheming bitch, and Finn was just a dumbass who deserved whatever he got if he was stupid enough to believe Quinn's "pregnancy by hot tub" story. 

"Yeah, you're right. You're kind of a jerk. Doesn't mean I don't love you anyway," said Kurt with a yawn.

Carson smiled and held his arms out so that he could wrap them around Kurt as they settled against each other. "Go to sleep, Kurtsie."

**********************************

"Alright, guys, I did some thinking last night. I think I've found our new number for sectionals!" exclaimed Mr. Schue, his face glowing with excitement. Carson caught Kurt looking over at him with an amused grin, and Carson shook his head and rolled his eyes. He really was going to have to start a drinking game or something for every time the glee club director said this phrase, because it was getting fucking ridiculous.

"We're gonna do the title song from Hair," Mr. Schue continued, holding up the sheet music and looking proud of himself. 

"Wait, what happened to the ballad thing?" asked Carson. "Are we just forgetting about that, or...what's the deal there? Nobody ever even performed theirs. What was the point of pairing off and choosing songs?" Not to mention that Kurt spent all that time alone with Finn for nothing.

"Now, this show started a revolution," Mr. Schue said, ignoring Carson's questions as usual. Carson sighed. Why the fuck did he even bother?

"Wait, did they have mohawks back then? Like, in the '20s or whatever?" Puck asked. 

"Yeah, Mr. Schue," said Finn, "If we're going to do a song about hair, shouldn't we have more hair?"

"I'm one step ahead of you," replied Mr. Schue, giving Carson a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whenever Schuester was that cocky, nothing good ever came of it. "Here are your wigs!" he said triumphantly, brandishing the bag he was holding in one hand and tossing it to Finn, who opened it to reveal the ugliest collection of wigs Carson had ever seen in his life. 

It's no wonder this club is always short on funding for things we need, like busses, he thought as the guys in the club started pawing through the wigs, trying to decide which one to take. Mr. Schue is always wasting the budget we do get on stupid shit like wigs. He watched as Kurt carefully placed a long, blonde wig on his head and ran his fingers through the fake hair. Wow, Kurt is adorably precious in his wig, though. Good thing people can't hear my thoughts, because I would probably never live down using the phrase "adorably precious," but yeah. He's so cute. He's the ONLY one who looks cute.

"Looking great, guys!" Mr. Schue chuckled when all the guys (except Carson, who absolutely refused) were donning a wig. He gave Carson a side-eye, but Carson knew by now that he wouldn't say a damn thing to him about it because he didn't want to risk losing any members again before sectionals. Carson would do the stupid song with everyone, but there was no way he was going to put on one of those hideous wigs.

Not that it really mattered, since he ended up missing the next day's glee meeting anyway due to staying behind in English class to argue with his teacher over the grade on his latest paper (he managed to talk his way from a C to a B, to he considered it a small victory). He caught up with Kurt afterwards just as he was finishing a conversation with Quinn.

"What did she want?" Carson asked as Quinn walked away looking pleased with herself. "I don't think she's ever actually spoken to either of us except to call us losers."

"Yeah, I know. It was so weird. She wants me to give Rachel a makeover for the good of the club," Kurt replied, stopping at his locker. "I said I'd do it."

"What? Why?" Carson asked. "I mean, I know you like giving makeovers and everything, but you hate Rachel!"

"I have my reasons," said Kurt, a small smile playing on his lips as he collected the books he would need for the night and slammed his locker shut. 

"Are you going to share them with me?" Carson asked eagerly. Kurt had mischief on his mind, he could tell. 

"No. Well...not right now. Later. Once I've had time to...heeeey, Rachel!" he exclaimed as Rachel passed by them. "Can I talk to you for just a minute? I have a proposition for you." He gave Carson a wave that clearly said "Go, I'm working here." Carson obeyed, but he was extremely curious. 

What are you planning in that adorable brain of yours, Kurt Hummel? he thought as he took one last glance over to where Kurt was eagerly saying something to Rachel, who looked absolutely bewildered. He hoped that he wouldn't have to wait too long to find out.

He didn't have to wait long, as it turned out. Kurt disappeared off to Rachel's house for several hours that night, looking extremely pleased with himself when he returned home. Carson was dying of curiosity. He was dying of something else entirely when Rachel showed up at school the next day wearing a short, black dress with a fucking corset top that showed off everything that Carson definitely did not want to see. 

"Ugh, put that shit AWAY!" he exclaimed as she passed by him in the hallway. "What are you trying to do, make people sick?" Rachel only glared at him as she headed toward her locker. Carson shook his head in disbelief. Had Kurt gone absolutely insane?

"Kurt, what the hell?" he asked as he entered homeroom and slipped into the seat beside his twin. "When I came to school this morning, I was definitely NOT expecting to get an eye full of Trollberry's boobage. There is literally nothing that can ever prepare a person for such a horrible, awful sight. What did you DO?"

Kurt shrugged. "I gave her a makeover."

"Yeah, and in the process you gave me a terrible case of nausea," Carson replied. "It's going to take me forever to erase the mental images!"

"I have a plan, though," said Kurt. "This is just phase one of the makeover."

"Oh?" Carson asked, intrigued. "Do I get to know what phase two is, or are you going to be mean and leave me out of the loop?" He tried giving Kurt the pouty look that Kurt always gave him, but he had a feeling that it probably didn't look even remotely the same. Plus, he felt ridiculous doing it.

"That only works when I do it," said Kurt seriously, looking around dramatically before leaning in and whispering into Carson's ear. "What if I told you that, thanks to me, she's going to end up making a complete fool of herself in front of Finn on Friday night?"

"I'd say that sounds suspiciously like something you're only doing because you have the hots for Finn, which kind of isn't helping my nausea," answered Carson.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Do you want to hear my plan or not?"

"Yes," Carson grumbled.

"Ok, well, do you remember that time I made you watch Grease with me?"

Carson listened, fascinated, as Kurt outlined his plan, which involved setting Rachel up to fully embarrass herself in skintight black lycra. Which, admittedly, was the last mental image of her that Carson really wanted to add to the already disgusting ones he already had, but still. Kurt's plan was so deliciously evil. Carson just tried not to focus on why he was doing it. Because honestly, Rachel kind of had it coming.

"Just please tell me there will be photos," he said. "They might come in handy for blackmail purposes in the future."

***************************

SLAM!

The sound of his locker slamming shut startled Kurt out of his thoughts, and he looked up in a panic, only to discover Rachel standing there. And she looked pissed.

"You set me up with Finn," she said accusingly.

"Looks like someone is running for drama queen again," he spat back at her, adjusting his bag over his shoulder and giving her his best haughty look.

"How could you do that? I thought we were friends," she said.

Friends? Oh, Rachel. That's adorable. We've never been friends, sweetheart.

"And what made you think that?" he asked. "You should be thanking me. All I did was help you realize that your schoolgirl fantasy of running off with Finn was nothing but a fairy tale."

Rachel looked at him carefully, realization slowly dawning on her face. "You like him. Yeah....that's what this is. And you were just trying to eliminate the competition!" 

"I was just helping him realize that you are not a viable second choice!" he retorted. He turned and walked away from her, entirely finished with this conversation. Rachel, however, was apparently not finished, because she stalked right after him.

"You think I'm a second choice?" she asked incredulously as he turned back around to face her. 

"A distant second," he said dryly. He was not going to let her get to him.

"You think I'm living in a fairy tale? If I were second, or if I were fiftieth, I'd still be ahead of you because I'M A GIRL," she said angrily. 

Kurt felt rather than saw Carson step up next to him at that moment. He held up a hand to silence his twin before he could go off on Rachel, because Kurt had a few things he wanted to say to her himself. Thankfully, Carson kept quiet, settling for crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Rachel icily.

"Ok, here's the dope, princess," Kurt began. "There's no hope for either of us. He loves Quinn. They're having a baby together." He heard Carson let out a snort beside him, which he ignored. "We're nothing but distractions," he continued. "The sooner we realize that, the better." He nodded to Carson, giving him permission to speak now if he wanted.

"Shockingly, I have nothing to add to that," said Carson. "Well, except maybe to say that I don't understand what either one of you see in Finn. Like, at all. He's like an extremely tall toddler."

Kurt rolled his eyes and slipped his arm through Carson's, leading them away. If he was being honest with himself, his motivation for humiliating Rachel didn't have anything to do with Finn. Well...not entirely, anyway. It actually had a lot more to do with his residual anger over the "Defying Gravity" incident. And the fact that he couldn't stand her entitled attitude in general. Maybe he was just a jerk. He wondered, then, why he was making it all about Finn if it mostly wasn't. 

"You ok?" Carson asked, squeezing him close. Kurt smiled and nodded. 

"Yeah. Fine. We'll both get over it," he said. He tried not to notice how good it felt, as it always did, to have Carson holding him so close. Tried not to notice how his heartbeat got ever so slightly faster, or the way his stomach did flips. Precisely the way he wished they would do when he was with Finn. 

Well...precisely the way they once did, kind of, when he was around Finn, but didn't anymore.

Maybe he was just sick.