“Just open it you two!” Finn sighed.

Okay, so I’ll admit: leave it to me and Rachel to have a big dinner to see if our dreams were going to soar or be killed prematurely like an aborted fetus. We were gathered together at Breadstix with the Berry and Hudson-Hummel family. This wasn’t the first time we’ve gotten together –the Finchel movement had brought us together throughout the year, as well as Rachel’s and mine rocky friendship, which needed much mediating – though no one will ever know that we reconnected because of Rachel finally stopped being the prude she was – but nonetheless, I’m ranting in my head and I still need to snap at Finn.

“A letter from New York Academy of Dramatic Arts is a lot more nerve-racking than Ohio State!” I pursed my lips and glared at him.

“Hey!” Finn gaped.

“Boys,” one of Rachel’s fathers hushed. “Just open it kids.”

Me and Rachel took deep breaths, placing our thumbs under the envelope flap. “One,” I started. “ … Two… Three!”

“Oh my God!” I squealed as we stepped out of JFK and I breathed in that New York air. I pulled on one of my many suitcases.

“Calm down Kurt you’re only in Queens,” my dad laughed. He, Finn, and Carole all had pieces of my luggage with them, Finn and my dad carrying the most.

“I know and we have to get going! Rachel said to meet her at the apartment!” I said, hailing a cab. Oh look at me hailing a cab.

“I still wish you two could have roomed together,” My dad frowned.

“Burt, honey, it’s like a college dorm. No rooms are co-ed. Trust me, it’s better that way,” Carole laughed, having dormed in college as well. Except for me it wasn’t really dorming; it was more of having my own apartment with three other boys from all around New York and were going to various schools in the city. I did my facebook research. They were all from the boroughs surrounding Manhattan. Wellington, the Julliard musician, was from the Bronx, Nick, the journalist from Hunter, was from Staten Island, and Blaine, the artist at New York School of Visual Arts, was from Brooklyn. I had friended all of them, and all accepted but Blaine. A little rude, but I had hoped he had a good reason. I had to be frank, the boys laughing eyes and curly mop of hair was just too adorable for him to be a hooligan.

The cab pulled up slowly to the apartment, a high building with what looked like thousands of windows. I couldn’t wipe that smile off my face. I was here. I was here, to go to school, for theatre. I was in New York City. My home my calling my – Wah!

“Kurt! Thank goodness you’re here!” Rachel had tackled me in a hug, spinning around my body. “It’s too huge! Are we even on the same floor?”

“Floor thirteen, apartment 7,” I retorted.

“Floor twelve, apartment 9. Close enough!” She laughed. “C’mon!” she grabbed my hand. “Let’s go guys!”

We helped each other into the elevator, and then helped Rachel move her bags to her apartment door.

“We’ll be up later to help you!” Rachel grinned.

We nodded and continued on to my apartment, stopping at the door.

“This is it,” I whispered as I made it to the room first, practically running there. I pushed the door opened, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

When I first walked in all I saw was Wellington sitting on the floor with these big headphones on. He was screwing together a keyboard on the floor, rocking out to whatever was on his headphones. There were other bags piled in the room and I wondered whether Nick or Blaine was here.

Speak of the devil! Nick walked out of one of the bedrooms, grabbing a suitcase, and pushing past us.

“Um hi?” I waved, making a face.

“Yea whatever,” he grabbed another bag and started out. “I’ll be back for my other things.”

At this point the door opened again and Blaine walked in, nearly bouncing with energy and carrying a duffel bag and a canvas, and was followed by what I assumed to be his parents. “Heeeeey everyone!” He wave with his free hand.

“Back for your other things?” I asked.

“Huh?” Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Who is? You?” he asked me. I shook my head. “You?” he asked Wellington, but he was in his own little world.

“I am,” Nick tightened his lips.

“Why?” Blaine asked, putting down his things. His parents stood behind.

“Because – Okay truthfully, I’m not rooming with that,” he pointed to me.

“Excuse me!?” I quipped, narrowing my eyes. Oh no no no. This was New York City. The place that just legalized gay marriage and had a drag show on every corner. At this point my father, Carole, and Finn finally caught with me, but were silenced by the scene of three very intense boys. But what shocked me were Blaine’s and his father’s stares.

It was Blaine who spoke first. “Do you have a problem with it?” he glared, his own arms crossed and flexed. “Cause then us ‘that’s’,” he wagged a finger from me to him. “Don’t want to be rooming with this,” he wagged his finger up and down Nick.

“Hard to tell with your profile on private,” Nick mocked him.

“Then it’s best that you do leave,” it was Blaine’s father who spoke, eyeing the boy with venom. Nick glared and grabbed the rest of his bags in one final handful, slamming the door on the way out. At this Wellington jumped, looking up at everyone.

He pulled off the headphones and looked around. “Uh what did I miss?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing besides that dirty little ska – WHOA.” Blaine staggered. “You!” He pointed to me. “Oooooh my God you’re the kid from Ohio!” He grabbed my shoulders. “Oh no no no of course your first time in New York – “ “Second – “ I managed to squeeze in. “- Second! Still your second time here and you already witnessed the New Yorker rudeness! Oh no! This will not do!” Blaine talked rapidly and excitedly, as if a small puppy. I was sure he was wagging a tail.

“Uh it’s alright it’s fine,” I smiled at his eagerness.

“Ya sure? – “ “Blaine let him go.” “Okay! Good!” Blaine grinned. “I’m Blaine. Anderson,” he addressed everyone. “Sorry if I been MIA on facebook and all, but me and a bunch of friends went camping this last week, and there wasn’t any service anywhere.”

“It’s alright, I’m Kurt Hummel.”

“And I’m Wellington Salisbury James. But please for the love of Orchestral Goddesses, call me Wells,” he laughed. “It’s a family bloodline name, which is also the name of a steak.”

“Fine by me,” Blaine laughed, shrugging. “Looks like you got a whole room to yourself.” He nodded towards the empty room. Me and Blaine’s father’s had started talking and unloading everything into our room. Carole and Blaine’s mother had started talking as well, while Finn and stood there awkwardly.

“Um, I’m going to go help Rachel …” He said, pointing to the door.

“Oh alright Finn meet us later,” I said. “That’s my step brother. Carole is my stepmom.”

“Oh that’s just my mom and dad. My little sister’s with my Nana,” Blaine laughed.

“My aunt was here earlier, I lived with her and my grandma,” Wells said, picking up his keyboard, satisfied with it. “I needed to get away from all that estrogen,” he joked.

“Kurt!” I heard my dad call. “C’mon start unpacking stuff.”

“You too Blaine!” Blaine’s father called.

Later that night the Hudson-Hummels and the Berrys went out to dinner. The city was full of wonderful places to eat all of ethnicities, which was unfortunate for my dad and Finn who only knew Italian Pizza, Chinese food, and tacos.

“Look you two,” Rachel’s father said. “No fighting this year, got it? No one is going be there to help you guys make up,” he teased.

“Oh we won’t! We have only one class together, and its writing. No competition there,” Rachel pointed out.

I nodded in agreement. “And any play we do we will never fight for the same part. I hope to expand my range and actually get casted for male leads,” I sighed.

“You will!” Rachel reassured me.

They were gone. I was in New York City in an apartment, officially, by myself. Well, with two other boys but still. We were in the living room, filled with a trashy floral couch and a big flat screen TV, a gift from Blaine’s father.

“So do you guys visit here often?” I asked.

“Yes and no,” Wells shrugged. “It’s too long of a train ride for me.”

“Me and my buds would come here every weekend,” Blaine grinned. “The D train takes us right to the core, and it’s on the corner of my house.”

“Oh, you guys are lucky,” I smirked.

“Awe c’mon Ohio has to have some redeeming qualities,” Blaine laughed.

“Nope. Zero. Zilch. Zip. Nada. Nunca. Non,” I listed off.

Both of the boys laughed, with Blaine shaking his head. Wells was the one who spoke. “I could imagine. Isn’t Ohio one of those small town kind of states?”

I nodded. “We even have our own case of16 and Pregnant,” I joked. Hey, it wasn’t like they knew Quinn, so it was okay.

“We do too, instead it’s in the Bronx and no one cares,” Wells rolled his eyes.

“Hey we had pregger girls in Brooklyn too. They were a little too overjoyed about it though …” Blaine shrugged. It got quiet for a bit before Blaine blinked and jumped up like he was struck by lightning. “Oh!”

“Oh?” me and Wells raised an eyebrow.

“Kurt! He needs a proper tour of the city!” Blaine grinned.

“Blaine, it’s eleven at night,” I rolled my eyes.

“So? It’s the city. There’s always something open, all the time,” he just kept grinning. “C’mon Wells!”

“It’s late …” Wells shrugged.

“C’mon ya wimps!” Blaine egged. “The city doesn’t come alive until at least a quarter to ten!”

“Fine, I’ll go,” I stood up.

“Yes!” Blaine jumped. “C’mon Wells! Join us?”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “I guess it won’t hurt.”

Blaine bounced like a puppy again, hyperactive and excited. “Alright, first stop the candy store. We’re gonna need coffee, pixie stix’s, and cheap wine!” And with that he grabbed our arms and ran off.