All-Encompassing Disclaimer: I do not own Glee (unfortunately). I do not own the songs that will be incorporated into this story (which is not a songfic). All characters and lyrics belong to their respective owners, and I'm not making any money from this (again, unfortunately). This disclaimer is in effect for the length of this fanfiction. Enjoy!
"You can't have it both ways."
He stared back into the hardened expression, trying not to flinch. Once upon a time he would never have allowed himself to be intimidated, especially when it came to his future. His name in lights, his voice on stage – oh yes, he still wanted those. But once upon a time seemed so long ago, now. Where had the time gone, before he had to face this? The obvious ultimatum, the challenge, hung in the air between them. He couldn't give it all up. The thought was unfathomable, even in his mind. It would be a betrayal to his very self if he walked away.
Those eyes, though. Those damnable eyes.
He tried to think straight, be rational about all of this. His head had always been the victor over his heart – no contest. Surely a compromise could be found within this mess. He could sense his logic losing, though. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what he really wanted.
"Why not?" The question burst from his lips unwillingly. It sounded childish, he knew, but he couldn't help himself.
Damnable eyes fixed him with an indignant stare. "Because the world doesn't work like that."
His world did. All his life, he could have whatever he wanted – sometimes he worked for it, sometimes he didn't – but in the end he would have it. No questions asked. If he wanted it both ways, he could have it both ways. Gazing back into that stare, though, he knew that it wouldn't happen this time. When he took the time to think about it, he found it funny how a single factor could send his life into a tailspin.
"This isn't fair." That too sounded childish, maybe even more so, and exceptionally unoriginal.
"No. It isn't."
He opened his mouth to retort, maybe even plead his case, but at that moment –
Worst timing in the world, anyone?
– an impeccably well-dressed man emerged from a side door, carrying a clipboard and an air of importance.
"Jesse St. James?"
Jesse looked over his shoulder and caught the man's eye, nodding. He turned back and those damnable eyes met his, again. He sighed.
"I'm up."
"I heard."
"We'll talk about this later, right?"
"That depends."
Jesse's breath caught in his throat. "Depends on what?"
"On whether I'm still here when you come back."
He closed his eyes briefly. "Please don't do this."
An all-too-familiar jerk of the head was his only reply. "You're up, Jesse."