A prelude to the fic:
When Glee first started its message was that the musical arts were amazing, and it stressed how important it was to believe in show tunes, even if they were not popular and singing them proudly would get a slushy thrown in your face. Not to over analyze, but Glee was about following what was good, not the popular trend. And, just my opinion, but I think it is straying from that path. The show is bending to meet the average viewer's wants and losing the old-fashioned tunes for the modern beat. So this fic brings you, with more or less plot, original show tunes, from the good old musicals.
On one level, Kurt was thankful for the opportunity to go to Dalton. He understood that his parents had given up their honeymoon for him, and he felt physically lighter with the constant worry about Kravosky off his chest. The Glee Club there concerned him, but he was sure he would eventually rise above them with his (in his own opinion) undeniably superior talent. And for the first time the classes were challenging, he actually struggled with homework… which was not all bad. Kurt was working hard just to keep up in pre-calculus, but Blain was very good at math, and willing to tutor. No, the school was all alright. It was the students that gave him the heebie-jeebies.
They all looked alike to him, a sea of black coats with red trim, perfectly combed hair, and fake looking, but most likely real smiles. He had given up on names long ago, and mostly tried to remember them by their ID number, a code the school computers used to charge them for lunch, but was also sewn into the hem of their school jacket. The only name he really knew was Blain, though he partially identified him as 3772.
Blain was sitting to Kurt's left, and both watched as a substitute math teacher drew a graph on the board. Kurt stared at the graph and felt his head turn to the side as he tried to make sense of it.
"Logarithmic," He whispered to Blain, "that's like exponential, right?"
"In one sense," Blain responded smiling, "In another, no, they are complete opposites."
Ms. Grey gave them the rest of the class as work time, and Kurt sighed with relief. He was flipping to "L" in his text book glossary when the two guys that sat in front of him, 2842 and 4625, turned around in their seats and put a notebook in front of Blain.
"Hey," One said under his breath, "we're ranking the sub on a scale from one to hot. Your opinion?"
Blain looked away. "She's not my type." He said quietly.
They laughed "Then you're blind." The other boy said, then they both turned back to question those in front of them.
Waiting until class let out, Kurt cornered Blain in the hall.
"What the fuzzy oven mitt was that?" He interrogated.
"What was what?"
"That, back in the classroom. I thought you had come skipping in a feather boa out of the closet."
"I'm out. I just don't advertise it."
"'Not my type?' A deep understatement, they obviously did not know. I thought they were sorta your friends."
"They are, I just don't like to cause a fuss. Only my closest friends really need to know."
"Then it's still like you are ashamed of it, like you are still hiding. Watch this."
"No, Kurt!" Blain shouted after him, but it was no good.
Kurt walked to the middle of the hallway, and said as loudly as he could without infringing on the no shouting rule. "I AM GAY AND PROUD!"
There was little reaction, 3293 gave a thumbs up, but the rest kept walking. He turned back to face Blain, but his friend was walking away with his hand shielding his face.
"I don't know you." Blain said with a smile. Kurt wheeled him around.
"You do that, go out there." An open gesture indicated a perfect shouting hallway. Blain smiled and kept walking to class. Kurt remained where he was, looking after Blain and refusing to run after him. "You told me to be sure of who I was. I know it is harder to stand up to stranger then an enemy, but I thought you were that strong enough to get above this pit of conformity." He said it loud enough so he knew Blain heard, but 3772 kept walking.
The two did not talk for the rest of the day, but Kurt could not help but start up a conversation the next morning. He stormed up to Blain during the pre-school study hall and slammed, as loudly as he could, a piece of paper down on Blain's desk.
"Really?" Kurt interrogated.
Blain picked up the paper and held it gingerly. "This appears to be this week's lunch performance list." He said in an analyzing tone. "Interesting, interesting, my own name appears to be circled in red."
"Mmm hmm, now what else is circled in red?"
"It appears to be the song I'm singing, Anne on My Arm."
"Now what is that supposed to mean?"
"Probably that I am singing Anne on My Arm during lunch tomorrow."
Kurt rolled his eyes. During lunch at Dalton students would sign up to perform. It nicely provided live acts or music while they ate, and an audience for the many at the school who needed a creative outlet.
"I mean Anne on My Arm. Could you have picked a more macho song?"
"I could have sung Masculinity. Doesn't it count for anything that it is from La Cage aux Folles?"
"A, Masculinity's name is extremely misleading, in that it is hardly more manly, and B, just because a song is from La Cage aux Folles does not mean it is not macho. You managed to pick the only song in the whole play sung by a straight guy."
"Assuming you don't count when Anne's dad sings."
"And I don't"
"Look, are we really still talking about this?" Blain shut his textbook, giving up all pretense of getting work done. "I am gay, and I'm not ashamed of it, it's just that the whole world does not need to know. And you're the one that actually kissed a girl."
"It was a phase, I went through it. And I hope this," Kurt waved his hand in Blains general direction, "is also something you are just going through. You can't keep hiding from strangers, even if it is easier than being you." Throwing down the performance list as angrily as one could throw paper, Kurt stormed off.
"Anne on My Arm is a pretty song!" Blain shouted after him, but other than getting a strange look from other students in study hall, it did no good.
To Kurt's frustration, he found himself avoiding Blain. It seemed to be the only thing he could do, Blain obviously did not want to hear the same lecture again, and Kurt didn't think he could be around Blain without lecturing. So he arrived late to classes and sat in the back. He did not meet up with Blain after school, and did not go to study hall the next day. However, he did go to the cafeteria, no matter how angry he was, he would not miss Blain singing.
Blain had the last time slot for performing at lunch, and followed a terrible rendition of Some Enchanted Evening from South Pacific. He walked confidently onto stage, and appeared completely comfortable standing in front of the school, holding the mic.
"Girls have come and gone, Papa" Blain began singing.
"Angelique and Antoinette
Or did I prefer Leslie or Hélène?
It was all a blur, and yet, Papa,"
Blain made the rookie mistake of looking at the audience, and caught Kurt's eye. He missed a beat and had to rush to catch up.
"When Anne comes running down the street,
I link my arm in hers,
Girls have come and gone,"
Blain's voice faltered and he slowed, the piano player that volunteered to play background music glared at him and attempted to match the singer's beat.
"Girls may come— NO! No, please"
The last was a shout at the piano player. Now Blain had completely stopped singing and was staring at Kurt, and Kurt thought he saw Blain mouth "You're right." The piano player continued awkwardly for a moment, then stopped.
"Sorry." Blain said shortly into the microphone, and then he walked over to the piano and flipped a few pages in the music book. "This song is also from La Cage aux Folles, and I think it is better suited for me. It is also just a better song." The piano started up and Blain walked back to the center of the stage.
"I am what I am
I am my own special creation. So come take a look, Give me the hook of the ovation. It's my world that I want to take a little pride in, My world, and it's not a place I have to hide in. Life's not worth a damn, 'Til you can say, 'Hey world, I am what I am.'"
Blain had started out softly, but his voice grew stronger.
"I am what I am,
I don't want praise, I don't want pity. I bang my own drum, Some think it's noise, I think it's pretty. And so what, if I love each feather and each spangle, Why not try to see things from a diff'rent angle? Your life is a sham 'til you can shout out loud I am what I am! I am what I am And what I am needs no excuses. I deal my own deck Sometimes the ace, sometimes the deuces. There's one life, and there's no return and no deposit; One life, so it's time to open up your closet. Life's not worth a damn 'til you can say, 'Hey world, I am what I am!'"
For those unfamiliar with the songs and curious, here are links. Spaces must be removed from both sides of the word youtube.
Anne on My Arm - www. youtube .com/watch?v=OpRELssPWw0&playnext=1&list=PL7D38D6522635AF4A&index=5
I Am What I Am - www. youtube .com/watch?v=QIieez9FApM&feature=BF&list=PL7D38D6522635AF4A&index=12