"La, la, la, la, la, la, laaaa!"

Rachel's loud—yet undeniably beautiful—voice sang right through the walls of her bedroom until they reached the ears of Kurt and Blaine who were lounging on the futon. The slender brunette glanced sideways at his boyfriend from over the top of his Vogue magazine just as Rachel's voice soared over her highest of pitch-perfect notes.

"If she keeps this up for another hour, then I swear…"

Blaine chuckled as his fingers gently danced across the strings of his guitar, creating a soft melody that was unfairly trampled over by Rachel's vocal warm-ups. "Give her a break for once—she has her big audition today, remember?"

"Oh, how could I forget?" Kurt muttered rather sarcastically. "For the past few mornings I've had to wake up to the ear-splitting wailings of Rachel Berry in lieu of an alarm clock."

The singing finally ceased and Rachel's bedroom door creaked open. The small brunette appeared in the doorway gripping a half-empty water bottle and a thick binder of sheet music. She wore a blue dress that—much to Kurt's approval—had no animals on it. White tights covered her toned legs and her favorite pair of black flats completed the signature Berry look.

"Sounding great, Rachel," Blaine complimented with a supportive grin. Rachel reciprocated the gesture with a much more brazen smile.

"I know," She flipped her shiny brown hair over her shoulder. "I've been practicing every day this week for hours—"

"We know," Kurt chimed in darkly, earning him a playful shove from Blaine.

Rachel didn't seem to hear Kurt's jibe. She simply turned up the wattage of her smile at the boys and pranced into the kitchen. Blaine and Kurt's eyes immediately met once the petite singer had left the room.

"Be nice," Blaine reprimanded with mock-sternness.

Kurt merely shrugged. "I'll consider it if she finally heeds my superior fashion advice."

"Kurt,"

"Fine, you win," The slender brunette gave in and returned to his magazine. "At least the constant screeching will be over after today."

Blaine laughed again as he placed his guitar down on the floor, giving his full attention to Kurt. The taller boy stuck a sticky note on one of the magazine pages as Blaine's head lowered onto his shoulder.

"You're awful," Blaine purred playfully into Kurt's ear, looking up at him through thick lashes. "You know that?"

Kurt stuck his nose into the air and pursed his lips flippantly. "Why, yes, I do."

Blaine pressed his lips against Kurt's porcelain cheek and the taller boy couldn't suppress his giggles no matter how hard he attempted to act indifferent.

"Gentlemen," Rachel announced, signaling her reappearance in the doorway. She stared pointedly at her friends, but seemed entirely unfazed by their display of affection—one of the many pros of living with a girl who has two gay dads. She motioned grandly to her figure. "I want you to take a good, hard look at what you see before you."

Kurt and Blaine turned their heads around to face Rachel and blinked.

"Because that dress makes you look like a fashion-depraved first grader?"

"No," Rachel sneered. She straightened her back and stood—poised—with her hands on her hips. "Because this very well may be the last time you see Rachel Berry as nothing more than a struggling artist. After today, my life could quickly change from 'humble mid-western schoolgirl' to 'unequivocal Broadway star'."

Blaine smiled appreciatively while Kurt was busy scoffing at a few of Rachel's word choices—namely, words like 'humble' used in the same sentence as 'Rachel Berry'. The petite singer began posing for her imaginary paparazzi just as Blaine spoke up. "We have faith in you, Rachel."

Much to Blaine's surprise, Kurt jumped up from his seat and abandoned his magazine on the futon. The slender brunette flounced toward Rachel with the widest and—surprisingly enough—most genuine of smiles. He took Rachel's hand in his. "You'll be amazing—you always are. Those casting directors won't know what hit them."

Rachel's grin morphed from something rather smug to something more warm and grateful as she pulled her best friend into a hug. "Thank you, Kurt."

"Now go show them what Rachel Berry can do," Kurt encouraged, separating their bodies. The brunette nodded and reached for her striped coat.

"Do you know where you're going?" Blaine's more sensible side spoke up concernedly from the futon. "It'll be dark when you get back—you should take a cab."

Rachel waved him off as she hugged her music binder to her chest. "Don't worry—my dads made me take a self-defense class before I moved here. And I have pepper spray." She nodded definitively at her roommates while they hid their amusement. "Mr. Meyers emailed me directions to the audition location. It's not terribly far—it won't be a problem if I walk. Besides, cabs are so expensive."

"As long as you're safe," Blaine got up from the futon as well and moved toward Rachel, giving her a tight hug. "Knock 'em dead, superstar."

With a quick squeal of excitement, Rachel jumped toward the door. "Thanks, you guys! See you tonight!" She closed the door behind her and swift footsteps could be heard tapping down the stairs of their apartment building until silence overcame the room. A beat passed before Blaine turned to Kurt, smirking a bit teasingly.

"Well, look who decided to be nice,"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "She's my best friend, Blaine…even if she is hard to handle sometimes."

"So," Blaine began pleasantly. "Any plans for this afternoon? I don't have to be at the restaurant 'til nine."

"Actually," A strange—almost suspicious—smile crept onto Kurt's face, leaving Blaine with an uncertain sensation. The slender brunette swayed gently back and forth aimlessly. "I was hoping you'd like to accompany me to the coffee shop…to meet a friend of mine."

Blaine's eyebrows came together in thought while Kurt continued to look positively wary. The slight glimmer of apprehension in Kurt's cerulean eyes was a bit disheartening. That's when realization dawned on Blaine and his eyes snapped to attention. "Oh, your friend from work?"

"Yes. His name is Ren—he's partly to thank for getting me the internship," Kurt nodded rhythmically. "He's been wanting to meet you for a while now."

In his usual polite manner, Blaine grinned. "Let's get going, then."

Kurt fumbled nervously through the coffee shop door as the pair arrived later that afternoon. Perhaps it was the way he smiled a bit too unconvincingly or the way he giggled a bit too frequently whenever Blaine spouted a remotely amusing comment. Regardless, it didn't give Blaine any peace of mind. Kurt had mentioned Ren before while he recounted particularly interesting stories from his day at work, but nothing more was ever said about the coworker. Blaine didn't understand why Kurt was acting so strange about simply meeting his friend—

And then Blaine's heart sank when a tall, gorgeous man with auburn hair approached them in the coffee shop.

"Ren!" Kurt called once their eyes met. Blaine followed a bit hesitantly behind.

"Nice to see you, Kurt," Ren greeted with a piercingly white smile. His eyes immediately flickered to Blaine, lighting up with eagerness. "And you must be Blaine. I've heard so much about you."

Blaine took this opportunity to inspect Ren even further. He was a good bit taller than Kurt, making him tower over Blaine with ease. His face was chiseled and sculpted to perfection with a light splattering of freckles across his nose. Ren wore a crisp button-down shirt tucked into his designer jeans that were so high-end that Blaine couldn't even recognize the brand. A black pea coat draped over his muscular frame.

He was slim, charming, and handsome—shit.

"Is that right?" Blaine laughed as he reached for Ren's hand to shake. As a performer, Blaine was akin to putting on a smiling face despite his inner thoughts. Neither Kurt nor Ren suspected a thing.

"Absolutely," Ren shook Blaine's hand with vigor before wrapping an arm around Kurt's shoulders. "You should hear this guy talk about his 'wonderful and talented boyfriend'."

Kurt squirmed with embarrassment despite the grin that spread across his face. "Ren—"

Blaine's eyes flashed with outrage for a brief moment as he watched Ren wink playfully at his boyfriend and even more so when Kurt began giggling and breaking into a blush. The curly haired boy returned to his fa�ade and not-so-subtly wrapped Kurt's hand in his own, leading him toward the front counter. "Well, let's hope I live up to the expectations."

The trio ordered their drinks once they reached the cashier. Blaine began to reach for his wallet when Ren stopped him, cheerfully handing the cashier a shiny credit card. Kurt smiled graciously at Ren while Blaine attempted to mask his scorn behind a cordial grin.

"So, Blaine," Ren chirped conversationally when they sat down at a table, stirring his coffee gingerly. "Kurt tells me you're quite the musician."

Blaine looked at Kurt who was sipping his non-fat mocha with mock-innocence. "I mean—yeah, I guess so. You could say that."

"Oh, don't be modest," Ren smirked. "Anyone who's willing to drop out of college to pursue a music career must be pretty confident in his abilities…"

Kurt nearly choked on his coffee when he felt Blaine's gaze snap back to him forcefully. The slender brunette tentatively met his boyfriend's steely eyes. "Blaine, I didn't mean—"

"It's nothing to be ashamed about," Ren stated plainly. If Blaine didn't know any better, he could have sworn he saw something similar to smugness cross Ren's expression—almost as if he were pleased about striking one of Blaine's nerves. "It's actually quite honorable of you to attempt to show the world that you don't need a college degree to be successful in life—good for you, Blaine."

Blaine's hazel eyes narrowed as Ren took a sip of his drink, an oblivious expression on his face. Perhaps it was Blaine's bubbling jealousy distorting his mind, but he felt as if Ren wasn't as innocent as he was pretending to be. Blaine noticed the way Ren's lips twitched upward whenever he said something unintentionally condescending or the way his eyebrows subtly came together whenever Blaine reached for Kurt's hand. And, most importantly, Blaine noticed the way Ren looked at Kurt…

"What about you, Ren?" Blaine asked politely, leaning his elbows against the tabletop. "What's your educational journey?"

Ren scoffed as if it weren't all that important, but replied anyway. "It's still going, actually. I completed my undergrad at Princeton with a degree in Finance and I recently started my graduate studies at NYU."

"Oh…that's great," Blaine attempted to sound indifferent. "That's very…impressive."

"Thank you, Blaine," Ren flashed a smile that failed to convince Blaine. "I enjoy the work."

A brief stare-down commenced between Ren and Blaine before Kurt felt the need to chime in. He nudged Blaine with a genuinely intrigued look on his face. "Blaine, Ren lives in that apartment complex a block down from your restaurant…"

"You own a restaurant?" Ren wondered, raising a brow.

"Oh, no, no," Kurt corrected, placing his hand over Blaine's on top of the table. Ren couldn't seem to break his gaze away from the sight. "Blaine works there—he performs a couple nights a week."

Ren nodded slowly, smiling with what appeared to be pity. Kurt didn't pick up on the subtleness of his action, but Blaine did. "Ah, I see."

Another stare-down.

A bit awkwardly, Kurt cleared his throat and lit up with forced cheerfulness. "So who's excited for Vogue's February issue?"

Rachel strutted confidently down the street despite how drab and ominous it appeared. She imagined Dean's casting company to be located somewhere a bit closer to the ritzier parts of town, but perhaps this dark neighborhood was merely a short cut. The streetlights didn't appear to be operational and many of the windows on the buildings she passed were either cracked or boarded up—in all honesty, Rachel was terrified. The small brunette put on a brave face, however, and kept her head held high as she marched down the sidewalk at a hurried pace, keeping her music binder clutched to her chest.

She paused when she finally reached the building labeled '56 130th Street' and glanced back down at her sheet of paper. The same address was written down on her paper—the address that she had copied from Dean's email. The building before her was old and quite obviously unoccupied. The door had a wooden board nailed across it and the large glass window on the front was taped over with outdated newspapers.

Was this a mistake? Or some sort of joke?

Rachel studied her paper again, rereading the address over and over in her mind. The number 56 was painted on the doorframe—albeit very lightly and worn away. A cold tingling sensation welled up in Rachel's chest as she looked desperately back and forth between the building and her sheet of paper. She reached into her purse to retrieve her cell phone, hoping Dean could provide some sort of explanation. With a shaky hand, Rachel scrolled through her contacts until she came upon Dean Meyers. The phone only rang once before a chipper female voice entered her ear.

"I'm sorry. The number you're trying to reach has been disconnected. Please try again."

The sensation in Rachel's chest intensified. She had called Dean dozens of times before—never before has that message come up. Rachel could feel her heart beating relentlessly inside of her as she attempted to call again.

"I'm sorry. The number you're trying to reach has been disconnected—"

She tried again.

"I'm sorry. The number you're trying to reach—"

Again.

"I'm sorry. The number—"

And again.

"I'm sorry—"

Rachel threw her phone to the ground in frustration, letting it slam against the concrete surface below her. She froze, breathing heavily, not quite knowing what to do next. A familiar feeling tickled her eyes—the feeling she often got whenever she sang an emotional solo—the feeling of tears. That's when everything seemed to click into place inside Rachel's mind. The stalling, the disconnected phone number, the fake address, the money… Rachel had been scammed.

Slowly, she sat down on the cold stoop of the boarded up building, bringing her knees toward her chest. Rachel's lip began to quiver so she quickly buried her face in her hands, crying so hard that her body shook.

"So how'd you like Ren?" Kurt wondered innocently as soon as he and Blaine returned to the apartment that evening. The slender brunette removed his scarf, coat and gloves before bouncing over toward the futon, patting the seat beside him in a silent request for his boyfriend to join him.

Blaine bit the inside of his cheek uncertainly. The dark haired boy had spent the entire walk home contemplating the best way to answer such an inevitable question. The perfect response had yet to come to mind, but Blaine was smart enough to know that telling the blatant truth would only result in an upset Kurt. However, Blaine couldn't lie to Kurt's face—such a sweet and unknowing smile tugging at his pink lips. He couldn't keep Kurt waiting either, which is exactly what was happening. Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He tried again.

"He's very…nice,"

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, he's smart, rich, and handsome," Blaine shrugged rather violently. "What else is there to say?"

A knowing smile crept onto Kurt's face, his blue eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Ah. I thought you'd do this."

Blaine's face contorted into confusion. "Do what?"

"Honestly, Blaine, I never pegged you as the jealous type,"

"I'm not jealous," Blaine corrected with as much composure as he could muster. "I'm just…"

"Jealous?" Kurt giggled. He patted the futon again and, this time, Blaine obeyed. He took a seat beside his boyfriend, frowning lightly. Kurt snuggled into Blaine's side. "There's absolutely no need for that."

Blaine exhaled loudly and contorted his face into a kind of scowl. "I know, but…"

Kurt glanced upward at his boyfriend and poked him gently on the tricep. "Spit it out, Anderson."

The words began to pour out of Blaine's mouth before he could stop himself. "He's just so successful and charming and he looks at you like you're—I don't know—like he's claimed you or something…I sound ridiculous, don't I?"

"No more than usual," Kurt giggled again, inching himself closer to Blaine's warm body. "Seriously, honey, you're reading too much into this. Ren is my coworker, alright? That's all. I think you're just as successful and charming as he is."

Blaine looked at Kurt.

"And, for the record, no one's allowed to claim me," Kurt added with plenty of sass. "I'm a person, not the last slice of pizza."

The subtle beginnings of a smile flashed across Blaine's face. "You could have fooled Ren."

"Hey," Kurt chided forcefully, issuing a gentle jab to Blaine's side with his elbow. "Stop that. Don't be jealous."

Blaine cast his gaze downward, away from Kurt. "I'm not…"

"Blaine Anderson. Look at me right now."

Kurt's tone suggested that he was not in the mood to play games. Blaine's hazel eyes carefully lifted until they met Kurt's stern, ocean ones. The slender brunette took Blaine's hand in his, meeting his gaze with the utmost seriousness. "Do you honestly believe that there's anyone I could possibly love more than you?"

This time, a grin finally reached Blaine's lips as he stared adoringly into his boyfriend's sincere eyes. The two boys were so completely lost in each other's gazes that they didn't even hear footsteps approaching their door until it swung open viciously.

Hard, painful sobs erupted through the apartment as Rachel stood in the doorway, covering her tear-stained face with her hands and curling forward until she was practically in the fetal position. Kurt and Blaine immediately broke away from each other and rushed toward their hysterical friend.

"Rachel? Rachel, what's wrong, honey?" Kurt demanded as he knelt beside the singer, attempting to push her chestnut locks out of her face.

"Are you hurt?" Blaine asked frantically, rubbing his hand across her back in a fast, sporadic rhythm. "Rachel, talk to us—what happened?"

The petite brunette looked up, thin strands of hair falling over her red, irritated eyes as she blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear away persistent tears. Her lips were swollen and trembling as she inhaled brokenly, gasping for air while the sobs continued to control her body. She merely cried harder at the sight of Kurt and Blaine's concerned expressions. "I—it was—I didn't—"

"Blaine," Kurt spoke softly but urgently. "Let's get her on the futon."

The dark haired boy nodded and took one of Rachel's limp arms, draping it over his shoulder. Kurt did the same on the other side and, together, they lifted the young girl off of the floor. Carefully, they carried her toward the futon, laying her down upon the stiff upholstery. Rachel continued to sputter and sob as she curled up on the futon, hugging her knees to her chest. Kurt and Blaine shared a quick look—neither one knew quite what to do. They waited silently by Rachel's side until the small brunette had calmed down enough to speak relatively coherently.

"Rachel," Kurt tried again, his voice quiet, soothing and musical. "You need to tell us what happened."

With another shuddering breath, Rachel swallowed. "It…was a scam."

Kurt gasped and Blaine's eyebrows came together. "What? The audition?"

"Everything," Rachel practically growled, eyes glistening with tears and hurt. "I didn't get to audition—I was never supposed to. There was no audition—it was all a lie."

"But why?" Kurt wondered in a voice no louder than a whisper. "Why would somebody do that—"

"To take my money!" Rachel cried out, cheeks reddening as she became more worked up.

Blaine held out a hand. "Wait…what money, Rachel?"

The brunette blinked up at her friend, speechless. She hadn't mentioned the money to Kurt or Blaine for fear that they would convince her not to go through with it. Now, however, hiding the fact any longer would prove to be foolish. She swallowed again and avoided eye contact. "Mr. Meyers asked for $10,000 in order for me to audition… I gave him the check back in September—"

"Oh, God, Rachel," Blaine shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose while Kurt looked on wordlessly. "And you didn't think that was unreasonable?"

"I wanted to be on Broadway, Blaine!" Rachel snapped, a few stray tears travelling down her rosy cheeks. "I was prepared to do anything it took to be a star!"

Blaine sighed and continued a bit more calmly. "That shouldn't mean handing some stranger all of your money."

"Okay! I'm sorry! I was stupid—I messed up. Is that what you want to hear?" Rachel blubbered. "His phone number is disconnected, the address was fake, and I doubt he's going to respond to any of my emails. It's done—it's over."

Kurt watched his best friend crumble before him and his heart twitched with uncomfortable pain. Rachel was a young girl with so much talent and promise—the fact that someone was heartless enough to betray her like this was just cruel and did not speak well for humanity, Kurt thought.

"He knew that Broadway was my dream," Rachel whispered, lips quivering once again. "And he used it against me…"

"Don't let this ruin you, Rachel," Kurt told her. "There are going to be so many other opportunities—"

Rachel's eyes narrowed harshly. "No."

Both Kurt and Blaine froze, taken aback by the force and certainty behind Rachel's response. The brunette frowned and her eyebrows furrowed like they usually did whenever she fought for a solo in Glee club. More tears escaped her eyes and slid down her face as she stared ruthlessly at her two friends.

"I'm never singing again."