Kurt goes home that afternoon and goes straight to his room--he ignores his dad, who comes out from the kitchen and calls his name. He doesn’t want to look at his dad right now, because he knows all he’ll see is his dad’s bright smile when Kurt got his audition, the way he said, you won, Kurt. And it hurts too much now to think about that, because it only reminds him that right now, in this moment, he’s lost everything, everything, he dreamed of.�

Kurt throws himself on his bed with a melodrama worthy of Patti and buries his head in his pillows. He wants to keep burrowing into his bedding until he enters another reality, one where the world didn’t decide to screw him over completely, in every sense of the word. It doesn’t work--every time he closes his eyes, he keeps seeing the Letter: Dear Mr. Hummel, thank you for interest in the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts. We regret to inform you that you will not be joining us for our fall semester . . . . Kurt’s mouth tightens and he bangs his head against his pillow in the futile hope that he’ll get amnesia so he can forget how ruined his life is.�

And then, of course, of course, he keeps hearing Rachel: “I got in.”

It isn’t fair, Kurt laments. It’s so selfish of him to think it, and of course he’s happy for Rachel, especially after--after her audition. But it isn’t fair. Kurt has done everything, tried anything, and he’d been lucky enough to get his audition. And then he’d nailed it, he knows he did, and even Ms. Tibideaux had complimented it. She had seemed so impressed that Kurt had relaxed a little, had even assumed that life would go his way for once.

He should have known better.

He loves Rachel, and he’s so happy for her, he is, but it still stings that she choked and still got into her dream school. It’s like sophomore year all over again where Rachel got the solos and the guy and the attention while Kurt was forced to sing in the background and dream of his days of stardom. Except his stardom is never coming because he didn’t get in, he didn’t get in--

Kurt can’t stop the tears. His chest feels too tight, it’s hard to breathe--

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Kurt rolls over and takes it out, staring at the screen.

Blaine