Kurt Hummel, age 19, walked the streets of L.A, searching somewhere that he could audition. Anywhere, anywhere, that he could show off his singing talent. He knew that he had it in him, the only problem was that he needed to find something that wanted him.
He had moved to Los Angeles after a little incident with his job in Iowa.
2 months ago...
"What do you mean you're not going to pay me?" Kurt snapped at his boss, Matt. Sure, he was sexy, but he could be so irratating sometimes.
"I said: You are not going to get paid for washing dishes and waiting tables," Matt answered, while picking up a pen Kurt probably dropped during his shift. "You don't deserve it, I'll put that money into better use, don't worry."
"Are you kidding me?! I bust my ass here, while you just sit around and collect the money. I deserve some of it," Kurt snipped.
"Shut your mouth, boytoy." Kurt rolled his eyes as Matt continued. "I just hired you because you were young and I needed someone to work for me." Matt walked to the back of the counter of the old shop, located in the middle of nowhere. He threw his washcloth down and looked Kurt dead in the eye.
"Your fired."
Those two words stung him like a wasp; just two words.
"Your fired. Get your stuff out of here by 5:30." He called over his shoulder as he slammed the door. Kurt was frozen stiff, his body was numb. It wasn't until his brain caught up with him that he realized that he was at the door, turning the OPEN sign to the CLOSED side.
Why did his life suck? He was stuck in Iowa, the only place he could afford to be at. Working at a shop in the middle of nowhere. It absolutly sucked. Kurt wanted to be in Los Angeles, where his dreams would come true.
So why don't you drop everything and leave for L.A?
Suddenly, the room's environment seemed more dense, more lively, more him.
So, Kurt toed off his boots, dragged a chair onto the small wooden stage, and belted out notes of a sweet, sweet song.
Oh, oh, sometimes, I get a good feeling, yeah.
I get a feelin' that I never, never, never, never had before, no no,
And I just gotta tell you right now that I
I believe, I really do believe that.
His voice was strong, as he belted out the first verse of a song he'd written himself on his own free time.
Something's got a hold on me, yeah (oh, it must be love) Let me tell you now I said, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oohoh, something's got a hold on me right now, child (oh, it must be love)
I got a feeling, I feel so strange
Everything about me seems to have changed
Step by step, I got a brand new walk
I even sound sweeter when I talk
I said baby
Oh, it must be love (you know it must be love)
He suddenly grabbed the microphone that was earlier perched up against a book, and brought it to his lips as he dove into another part of the song. Let me tell you know Let me tell you now
Something's got a hold on me, yeah (oh, it must be love)
Oohoh, something's got a hold on me right now, child (oh, it must be love)
I never felt like this before
Something's got a hold on me that won't let go
I believe I'd die if I only could
I sure feel strange, but it sure feels good
He was dancing around the stage (probably looking like an idiot) but no one was around to judge him. It was all him, no distractions. I said, oh, oh, oh, oh Let me tell you know I shake all over, but I feel alright I said, oh, oh, oh, oh Yeah, he walks like love (you know he walks like love) Na na la la (na na la la)
I said baby
Oh, it must be love (you know it must be love)
I never felt like this before
Something's got a hold on me that won't let go
I never thought it could happen to me
Got me heavy without the misery
I never thought it could be this way
Love's sure gonna put a hurting on me
I said baby
Oh, it must be love (you know it must be love)
He talks like love (you know he talks like love)
Makes me feel alright (makes me feel alright)
In the middle of the night (in the middle of the night)
Na na la la (na na la la)
Ooh yeah yeah (oh oh oh)
Yeah ooh yeah oh (oh oh oh)
Hey, yeah yeah yeah, ah
He belted out the last note and then started to pant hard, that song was a hard song to sing. And he'd written it himself!
Kurt looked over at the clock that read 5:33. He silently packed his things and started up the car. On the way out, he took out his iPhone and searched plane tickets to L.A.
So, here he was, thinking he could just come to L.A and become a star in a blink of an eye. It didn't end up happening like that, though. He just needed somewhere to audition, someone to notice him, even just one person. One person would be all it took to get somewhere in this huge city.
The weirdest thing happened when he rounded the corner of a street in the busy traffic of Los Angeles.
"Show a little more, show a little less..."
The sound of jazz and resque song drifted through the nightly wind. Kurt listened hard, trying to find out where it was coming from. Someone was obviously singing it, someone with a remarkable voice.
"Add a little smoke, welcome to Berlesque."
Oh, jeez. He walked in the direction where the music was coming from until he heard the next line.
"Everything you dream of, but never can posses."
"Nothings what it seems, Welcome to Berlesque."He finds out the direction it's coming from, so he continues to follow it.
"Oh, everyone is buying, so put your money in my hand,"
The singer continued, the voice getting louder every step he took.
"If you got a little extra, well, give it to the band. "
He finds himself standing in front of a Berlesque club. A berlesque club. He wants to turn around, but he just can't. He finds himself walk in.
"You may not be guilty, but you're ready to confess.
Tell me what you need, welcome to Berlesque."
A young, pretty latina is the mystery singer, as she shakes her hips and dances on the stage. There are other ladies up with her, wearing less then a woman probably should. He rolls her hips onto anotherwoman as she sings the next line.
You can dream of Coco, do it at your risk.
The triplets grant you mercy, but not your every wish.
Yes it keeps you guessing, so cool and statuesque.
Behave yourself, says Georgia, welcome to Berlesque.
The ladies continue to grind on the young singer, and Kurt's palms start to get a bit sweaty and he finds himself being led near the stage. He can't help but stare in awe. He suddenly interested himself in the dancing.
Ooh, everyone is buying, put your money in my hand.
If you want a little extra, well, you know where I am.
As the latina continues dancing gracfully on the stage, Kurt just can't tear his eyes away from the stage. In a way, he wants to be up there. He feels like he needs to be up there. But he's better than that. He will not be turned into a whore because he wants the spotlight.
Something very dark, is playing with your mind
It's not the end of days, It's just a bump and grind.
They demonstrated what they said in the last line, which made the bar erupt in hoots and hollars.
Show a little more, show a little less,
Add a little smoke, Welcome to Berlesque!
She hit the note perfectly, and applause roared throughout the place. Not Kurt. For Kurt was frozen in place. He could not believe what he had just seen. He needs to be up there. He wants to be up there, he will be up there. He's snapped out of his trance when a hand is on his shoulder.
"Like what you see?"