Tiniest bit AU in that Kurt and Ryan are both the same age, and the tiniest bit FUTUREFIC because Kurt has graduated from high school. Other than that, I'll try to keep to canon, all right? Also, you might notice that chapter titles are after well-known songs (and I even give you the artist)... I just thought it was appropriate. :)
New York Minuet
1: Welcome to New York (Tim Mahoney)
The envelope that held the answer to Kurt's prayers was tossed casually aside by his father, into the tiny pile that was Kurt's private mail. He obviously had no idea of the value of that envelope, in all its manila glory. It was stamped Julliard School, Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, New York City, USA.
When Kurt saw it on top of the small stack of letters, his heart felt as though it had risen into his throat. He made an undignified squeak, scooping the envelope into his arms and hugging it to his chest. "Please, please, please," he chanted, his usually nimble fingers fumbling with it. Burt walked into the foyer from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishtowel.
"What's going on?" he asked gruffly as Kurt ripped out the paper inside and unfolded it quickly. He didn't answer immediately, his eyes desperately skimming the page, looking for one precious word.
Accepted.
"Yes!" He jumped wildly into the air, pumping his fists in delight. Burt gave an amused smile, watching his son dance around the room hugging the letter of acceptance to his chest. "I'm in! I'm in!" He was finally getting out. It was finally over. He was finally leaving Lima.
The school was even bigger than Ryan had imagined, and he gazed at it from across the expanse of lawn wistfully. He had a backpack full of necessities slung over one shoulder, and a pull-along suitcase beside him. His other clothes would be flown in next week, as he wasn't allowed to bring eight suitcases with him on the plane from Albuquerque. The sun was high and glinted magically off the windows, making the whole campus seem to sparkle. He was breathless. It was stunning.
Ryan joined the throngs of people walking towards the dorm sign-ups, and eventually made it to the right table. He was given his room key, and made his way down winding hallways to find his room. The whole place had a musical feel to it; he could hear people singing from other rooms and practicing their instruments. People ran by dressed in costumes covered in feathers or sequins, and Ryan raised a hand in greeting as he passed. When he found his room, he sat down delicately on the edge of his bed and grinned as he heard the person in the next room begin to play a clarinet.
After a moment, he sighed and took off his hat, placing it beside him on the bed. He looked around his room, already envisioning what it would look like once he had his decorator in to see it.
He felt at home.
Kurt's eyes were wet when he gave his father that last hug before boarding his train. He'd made his last good-byes to everyone else long before, at graduation, and had heard little from anyone since, besides a postcard from Rachel who had gone Broadway immediately after she got her certificate. But this was different. As much as he loved his father, he loved his freedom more, and that meant leaving Lima, perhaps forever.
"I guess I don't have to remind you to change your underwear and brush your teeth, huh?" his father said gruffly, obviously trying hard not to look emotional about his the change in his son's geography. Kurt chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.
"No dad, you don't."
"And I guess I don't have to tell you not to party too hard, right?" He fixed a stern gaze on his son.
"I know, dad." Under his breath he muttered, "As if I'd risk blowing my only shot."
They embraced for a quick moment, Kurt burrowing his face into his father's shoulder and inhaling his scent one more time. He wanted to remember the oil and coffee smell, just in case he never came back to Lima. The last warnings were called, and Kurt was forced to board the train, wiping a tear from his cheek onto his expense designer jacket's sleeve. His father raised a hand in good-bye. Kurt mirrored him, resisting the urge to jump up and down waving like an excited child. Even though he was excited, very much so.
The train ride was bumpy and he shared a car with a dozen strangers, all of whom were older than he was. He kept smiling at them, but no one said a word to him, and eventually he gave up on trying to socialize. It was going to be a long ride, he decided, so he got out a book on the theory of composition and settled down in his seat against the window to set about reading it.
He finished that book and two others before the train shuttered to a halt at his stop. He bounded out of the train as soon as the doors were open, savouring his first breath of New York air as though he had been drowning all his life. He swung himself around in a circle with his arms spread wide, not caring about the odd looks he was getting from the people around him. "Hello, New York," he said quite loudly before running to gather his luggage.
This, right here, was his city, his moment. Welcome to New York.