(an apologetic and incredibly long) [A/N]: Oh my god it's been a freaking long time since I last updated. I am SO unbelievably sorry. School completely took over my life. Around the time I posted the last chapter I was smack in the middle of SAT testing, state testing, AP testing, and finals and I was completely burnt out. I kept telling myself that I'd get it done once summer began and then when I finally started writing again I kept deleting what I wrote because I had this idea in my head that everything I thought of sucked and wasn't good enough for the wait you guys had to do so I put off writing the second half of the chapter for ages, then I had to travel to visit relatives so I lost that time, THEN school started again and swamped me with work again, and I was staying up so late doing homework that all my brain could handle in my free time was trying to catch up on rest. Then my uncle passed away REALLY unexpectedly and it put me in a horrible funk for quite a while and by that point I figured I had waited so long that nobody was gonna read this anyway and it was just a bad chain of events. I'm not trying to excuse myself but just explain my situation. Anyways, this chapter is tad shorter than usual because I knew I had to get my act together and just post already so that I could break through whatever's holding me back... Hopefully there are still people reading this...

I am so sorry it has been so long because you guys have always been incredibly kind to me and you deserve better.I hope this chapter isn't too shabby.

(Also, I know I've been planning to write a longer list of thank you's forthe readerswho have helped me with this story, and I am gonna try to put that together for the next update, AND THERE WILL BE A NEXT UPDATE. But I just can't wait any longer to post this.)

Sorry this A/N was so damn long. Cheers to getting back in the swing of things!

Chapter 14

(BLAINE'S POV)

We're speed walking toward my class and I've still got my hand on Kurt's shoulder-- why I have no idea-- and in the hallway toward my studio we run into Wes, who's just walking out of his classroom.

"Hey." He greets me, nodding toward Kurt.

"Hey, man. Kurt, this is my best friend Wes. Wes, this is Rachel's fiancé's brother Kurt." I say, chuckling at the long title.

"Fiancé?" He smiles, and I realize that I have yet to tell him about Finn's proposal.

"Yeah, he popped the question just the other day."

"Good, good. Tell Rachel I'm really happy for her." He grins and then he turns toward the person next to me. "Oh, and it's nice to meet you, Kurt." He reaches out and they shake hands, a smile on Kurt's face as he nods back at him.

"Kurt's gonna sit in on one of my classes. Are you heading out?" I ask, a little confused because he has his own class next period.

"Just going on a coffee run. You want your usual?" Wes asks.

"Yeah, thanks. That'd be great."

"What about you, Kurt? You want anything?" Wes asks, ever polite.

"No, no, I'm good." Kurt replies, pleasantly surprised. "Thank you."

"Alright, see you guys later." Wes says, continuing his path down the hall, as do we in the opposite direction.

"Wes teaches vocal classes a few doors down." I inform Kurt.

"Ah." He nods.

We head in the room where students are already getting ready and stretching.

Kurt's eyes widen a bit.

"You good?" I check in, leading him toward the benches on the other side of the spacious studio.

He nods jerkily. "Blaine, I'm not sure if this is exactly what I'd had in mind--"

"Relax, relax. Today's just about rehearsal, not about teaching new moves. That was more at the beginning of the semester... Just, you know, sit down, get a feel for the whole class environment thing and if you don't like it you don't have to stay. But I can promise you right now my summer classes aren't nearly as intensive."

Kurt bites his lips nervously, hands in his pockets, for a few moments. Then, wordlessly, he plops directly down onto the bench behind him, looking up at me. It would have been a lot cuter if he didn't look so concerned for his wellbeing. I carefully sit down next to him and beginning changing my loafers for a pair of sneakers.

"Kurt, seriously, you don't have to be here if you don't want to, I was just being pushy 'cause I got excited." I explain more seriously, suddenly feeling a bit like an jerk for physically steering this person into what is clearly an uncomfortable environment for him. I'm also confused about why this is so apparently nerve-wracking.

Kurt thinks things over for a few moments before answering, "I'm fine. I'm just being irrational." He smiles apologetically.

"I wouldn't say irrational--"

"Mr. Anderson?" A student asks, and then I remember that yes, I am a teacher who has students to attend to and one pupil in particular with a question and I should really start my class now.

"No pressure." I say to Kurt, finishing up tying my laces, before standing and heading over to the other side of the room.

(KURT'S POV)

The class looks to have around thirty to forty people in it, small enough for my presence to be noticed but big enough for it not to be awkward. Could be worse.

"Alright guys, this is Kurt. He's auditing the class." Blain announces. "At least for today."

I could laugh. As though I'd be able to keep up in a class like this. Ha.

A few people smile politely before facing Blaine again and surprisingly I manage to smile in return.

As Blaine starts warming the class up, I start to feel apprehension creeping its way into my stomach.

And as Blaine turns on the music and the routine begins, I realize I'm in a bit over my head.

What am I even doing here? Why am I always getting myself into these kinds of situations?

If my dad could see me now... asking the "queer" for dance lessons not half an hour after his call...

I transfer the Swiss Army knife from my pants pocket to my more spacious hoodie pocket and flip the blade out, running my thumb back and forth across it.

He's finally proud of you, why can't you just accept that? You're always looking for problems. Maybe this is the best he can do.

My shoulders droop as a wave of sadness crashes over me. A sadness that is soon replaced by rage. I look up at the students, suddenly, unexplainably angry at them all for not sharing my problems. For thinking they can slap on tights or jazz shoes or whatever the fuck dancers wear and not face any consequences. Why do they get to have fun and perform for people while I get to sit here and squeeze a piece of metal in my pocket as though it has some sort of power over me... which it does, I suppose...

They must be what, nineteen? Twenty? What was I doing when I was their age?

Oh, right. The same exact thing I'm doing now, only in a small office, waiting for a stack of paperwork to land on my desk so my eyes would have something to look at other than the cracked white paint on the walls.

I'm in my mid-twenties now. And my birthday isn't even that far away.

So much wasted time that I'll never get back. And for what? For a stupid old man who doesn't--

I gasp as the blade snags on the skin of my thumb. I snap the knife shut and withdraw my hand, checking for any sign of blood. The cut is pretty small, fortunately, but it stings enough to snap me out of whatever path my thoughts were taking me.

And when I look back at Blaine's students, my mind now sharper, I find that I don't hate them anymore. I'm still jealous, but I don't hate them.

I need to get a grip. I take a few deep breaths to steady myself.

I force myself to think about something-- anything-- else and for a few irrational moments, my brain supplies the image of my dad doing the dancers' choreography instead, pirouetting and leaping and swinging his hips around with a tutu on and I find myself working hard to stifle my laugh, lucky that the practice music is loud enough to drown me out.

Still Blaine manages to look up right at that moment, like he somehow knows. And maybe he does. Or maybe this isn't the first time he's looked in my direction since I sat down..?

Upon seeing whatever look is on my face, Blaine smiles a toothy grin in my direction, one that crinkles his eyes as he looks away and reduces me to a puddle on the floor. And for once, I don't really mind.

Riding this momentary high, I pull out my phone and click on Mercedes' number.

U still think u can hook me up at Starbucks?

I press send before I can chicken out... I just need to take baby steps if I want to start fixing my life. Any job is better than no job, right?

My phone buzzes in reply.

Of course

When can u come in?

Whenever they'll have me.

Alright

I'll ask tomorrow and let you know

Thank you so much.

No problem, boo :)

My lips twitch at the term of endearment.

I pocket my phone and look up to see Blaine wiping sweat off his brow, and my brain short-circuits for a moment.

Okay he needs to not do that...

"So what'd you think?" Blaine asks once all the students have cleared out.

I watch him start putting on his shoes as I say, "There is absolutely no way I can do... any of that..."

"Okay well first of all, yes you can. With some practice, of course." He replies, confident. "And second, this is a rehearsal, remember? I didn't invite you up here to scare you, Kurt. Just to... give you an idea of what I do, I guess." He shrugs.

"Right, right." I say, still uneasy with nerves.

"The look on your face right now..." Blaine chuckles. "Was this counterproductive, then?"

I shake my head to avoid dealing with the knots in my stomach.

"Alright." He says skeptically. He pulls a small towel out of his bag and takes a minute to rub the sweat and gel out of his hair.

Blaine's head is full of flyaway curls when he pulls the towel away, and it's so unbelievably cute. He's so fucking endearing I could just punch myself... I've never seen him without his hair gel and I can't stop staring. But before I can admire it for too long he crams it all into a beanie, cutting off my view.

"Why would you do that?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"What?" Blaine glances around for the source of distress.

"The beanie." I point at his head and he looks at me for a moment.

"...'Cause my hair's a mess?"

"I know."

"Exactly."

"Yeah." I say, as if he should understand.

"What are we even arguing about here?" He asks, looking as confused as I feel.

"Nothing-- just--you don't need it."

"There is no way I'm leaving this place without it." He chuckles but as he reaches over to grab his bag, I petulantly pull the beanie off of his head. Blaine gasps and his hands fly to his hair.

I feel a laugh burst out of my mouth at his reaction because I know he's not acting.

"What are you doing? It's even worse now!" He cries, reaching for his hat. I lift it over my head so that he can't get to it. He begins to jump for it and I can't stop laughing because he still can't reach it.

Jesus Christ, he's so tiny, it's making me feel warm all over just how compact he is.

"This isn't--" Jump. "--funny, Kurt!" Jump.

I quickly discover that frazzled Blaine is my favorite Blaine and I am more than willing to make it last as long as I can, so I take off out the door.

"Dammit!" I hear his shout, quickly followed by the sound of his feet hitting the floor as he trails behind.

I pass by people in hallway, Blaine hot on my heels, and I hear quite a few students cheering Blaine on before I push the door open and make it outside.

It isn't long before I feel a body crash into my back and an arm snake around to try to grab the offending item out my hand.

"Asshole!" Blaine yells, out of breath and laughing.

"I'm helping you!" I yell back as I manage to break free of his hold. I tuck the beanie under my arm and start walking.

"How the hell was that helping?" Blaine asks, coming up next to me, hands smoothing his now windblown hair in a desperate attempt to redeem his composure.

"Look, if you're gonna help me with my dance insecurities then I'm gonna help you with your hair insecurities." I declare, joking.

"That's not even sort of the same thing. And I don't have hair insecurities."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you gasped when I took this." I laugh.

"I did not gasp--"

"--loudly--"

"It was not loud--"

"And you're still trying to fix your hair--"

"Whatever, Kurt."

We walk together for a moment.

"Why do you freak out so much about it?"

"'Cause I look like Medusa right now."

"Blaine, you could shave your head and still look adorable."

"I'm not adorable. I'm a manly man."

"The manliest." I humor him.

"You're making fun of me." He points out.

"Wait, were you serious?"

"Kurt! I'm, like, really manly!"

"Okay the fact that you just said 'like' in the middle of your sentence just crushed your argument." I laugh.

"This is ridiculous."

"Don't worry, I still like you." I kid.

"Do you? 'Cause I'm still not sure." His tone sounds joking but his eyes look kind of curious.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"No." I answer too quickly, not sounding firm enough. A smile spreads on Blaine's face.

"You do. You like me. You like me a lot." He says jovially.

"What, are you five years old?" I ask sardonically.

Blaine's eyes are full of mirth now and his smile only widens, but before he can open his mouth I cut him off, "Oh, shut up." I shove his hat at him and continue walking.

He clutches it tightly but doesn't put it back on and it makes my chest feel light and airy the entire walk home.

"So what exactly is this? Is it a play or--" Finn begins.

"It's the summer showcase. There are a few performances that some of the classes put on and then there's a competition between the individuals who excel above and beyond their peers." Rachel answers, her tone reverential.

"I'm assuming you won this competition when you went to NYADA?" I ask with as little irritation as I can manage.

"I may or may not have snagged first place two out of the four years I went there." She says smugly.

I smile for her because this seems to be way more important to her than it is to me.

I'm decidedly in an unpleasant mood on our way to watch Blaine's students' recital/showcase thing and I'm not entirely sure why.

I may have felt fine earlier in the week during his class' rehearsal but the closer we get to NYADA the more I hate the school. Why would I want to sit through two hours of talented students being talented together and showing off in front all of us less talented people? Why can't they just be young and happy locked up in their door rooms and leave us all alone?

I sigh internally and swallow my jealousy.

I mean I know that I can't even sing alone in the bathroom of our empty apartment without my untrained voice cracking to exponential levels but I was a damn good singer in my younger years and if I hadn't been so afraid maybe I could have used it. Maybe I could have used it to bring in glee club trophies and I could have used it to get me into a school like NYADA and maybe even to win their damn showcase and now I'll never know.

But, once again, this isn't about me.

This is about Blaine and I need to be supportive and not sulk when we get to our seats.

(BLAINE'S POV)

There's no backstage. We're in this goddamn room with no corners and no platform to perform on. I know that I've been choreographing these showcases for a few years now but every time I do this I'm always floored by the fact that there is no backstage. Everyone either knows what their doing or they don't. I'm not allowed to cue them in or even organize them, and it's terrifying.

Suddenly the words of Dean Carmen Tibideaux float through my mind.

There's nowhere to hide...

I know she likes to intimidate freshmen with those words but to be honest they're still just as scary as a teacher now because this isn't my room. This is the room for the singers. And of course it makes sense to have a "Round Room" for them-- I understand the importance of acoustics and whatnot-- but the point is we're not singers. My students need more space to move and a place to go offstage to make transitions look smoother and it's not fair to throw them in this room with everyone else when we have very different performance needs, no matter how real or gritty it may appear to Carmen.

I've saved the three seats next to me for Rachel, Finn, and Kurt's arrival. For as nutty and self-absorbed Rachel can be, she's always been here for every one of my shows and I must give her props for that. Although... with the addition of both Finn and Kurt I'm definitely a lot more anxious than I normally am. Usually I have those under-the-surface jitters for the success of my students but I'm feeling rather nervous for myself right now because this is the first time that either of those two have really seen my work. Sure Kurt sat in on a class earlier this week but that was just a rehearsal. This is the real deal.

Or... as real a deal as it can be in a controlled school environment in front of people we all know...

I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder and turn to see Rachel there with Kurt and Finn behind her.

"Are you excited?" Rachel asks as the three of them move to their seats and get settled.

"I'm nervous." I laugh.

"It'll be great, Blaine, it's always great." She smiles and I return it.

"Thanks for coming guys." I turn to Kurt and Finn.

Kurt grins at me and Finn says "No problem, man. Rachel's always talking about this show every year and how awesome it is, so I'm glad I finally get to see it." He laughs.

I turn to Rachel, touched, but as soon as I do, the lights dim and the show begins.