"Memories, like the corners of my mind. Misty water-colored memories." Oh, the joy of singing. That little boy that had always loved to make music in any way possible had never really died, not the way the rest of him had after what had happened. It still sent a thrill through his body, a wave of happiness that Kurt had grown unaccustomed to. "Smiles we gave to one another, for the way we were". At the end, Kurt had figured that it was the kind of situation where you went big or you went home. His mind, that part that was always there to remind him of the failure he'd become, had sufficiently stated just how arrogant and naïve it would be to sing a famous Barbra for such an important occasion. But Barbra, and the memories that came with her (memories of himself, making his dad watch Funny Girl; thoughts of Rachel Berry…mostly of Rachel Berry) made him feel safe and—well, less lonely, one would say.

He finished the song with a breathless giggle, a sound that he hadn't allowed himself to make in a long time, and with his eyes closed. He'd been so caught up in the song that he actually jumped when the applause started, his eyes opening as his mouth dropped open in surprise as well.

"Tell me, Mr. Hummel, what made you choose a Barbra song?" Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but he had to clear his throat because it was dry and achy and the rest of his body felt as though he might pass out. Mr. Gross, a medium-height guy with short, dark hair and small brown eyes, lifted an eyebrow, prompting him to answer.

"I—I like Barbra. And she—'The way we were' it's the kind of song one would consider a classic." Dumb Kurt, so dumb. Apparently his speech abilities always left him when he needed them the most. Mr. Gross probably thought he had some sort of mental deficiency, he wouldn't blame him, considering the way he'd stumbled through his answer.

"Do you know more Barbra songs?" Kurt nodded dumbly. "You can speak, child, it's okay" Kurt would have pointed out that Mr. Gross was probably not that much older than Kurt —probably just 8 or 9 years— but he figured he should use what little speech abilities he had left to actually convince Mr. Gross that he had a normal level of intelligence and that he would not embarrass him if for some twist of destiny he chose him.

"I love Barbra. I used to watch her movies all the time with my mom, before she died, and then with my dad. I'm— I know my voice it's not quite right for her songs, but I love them and they make me feel comfortable" He cleared his throat again and shuffled in his place uncomfortably. He blushed when his words made a small smile appear on Mr. Gross face.

"I think you made the right choice. I interviewed three guys before you and they all forgot about my subtle suggestions to sing something more—old fashioned, I guess. I must applaud you for your vocals, the song you chose and your whole performance" Kurt's blush intensified, but he gave the man, and his assistant, a shy smile.

"You broke my heart" The woman, Mr. Gross' wife and Mr. Roberts' sister, said with a small grin. "And Ian is right. We've had guys singing your typical wedding songs and although they were quite lovely and in any other case we would hire them without a second thought, the wide is very—" She hesitated and Kurt completed the sentence without thinking about it.

"Peculiar?" He blushed immediately after, but he figured it mustn't have been the wrong thing to say because Mr. and Mrs. Gross grinned and let out a short laugh.

"You could say that, indeed" Mr. Gross said. "I like you, kid. I really like you and I need a singer and if you're willing to work with our vocal couch I'd be more than happy to have you on board" It took a minute for Kurt to realize what the man just said. He opened his mouth but closed it again when he realized he had nothing to say.

"Really?" He finally whispered; his voice breathy with disbelief.

"Really. I think that the bride will adore you and I think we will be able to do fantastic things with your voice. But—the coach is a pain in the ass and you'd have to leave New York for the next couple of weeks so you can train and then to assist the wedding"

"I'd have no problem taking you back after, of course" Mr. Roberts supplied from his seat next to his sister. Kurt, once again, was left speechless, gaping in what had to be an accurate imitation of a fish and feeling like he hadn't woken up that morning. Mr. Gross leaned over to his wife to whisper something in her ear that made her smile; she pulled a small notebook out of her purse, scribbled something on it and stood up to walk towards him. He took the piece of paper she was offering after a moment of hesitating and then read what she'd written there. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open again as he looked up to stare at Mr. Gross.

"That's—"

"That's what the bride is willing to pay. It's a generous amount of money and you'd have food and anything else you might need throughout the time you spend in LA"

"I—if you think she'd be okay with me" he hated how he made that sound like a question. He did not want to make Mr. Gross think that he was making a mistake, and his insecurities would only make him look like a fool. Mr. Gross, though, did not look put out; instead, he grinned and finally stood up to go over to where Kurt was standing.

"Do we have a deal, Mr. Hummel?" Kurt, once again, was left speechless, and he had to settle for yet another dumb nod as he took the hand Mr. Gross was offering and shook it.

|0|0|0|0|0|0|

It had been a long time since the last time Kurt had been on a plane. Five years, to be precise. Sean, the coach that Mr. Gross had mentioned, was sitting next to him, looking bored with his headphones plugged in his ears and a magazine lying over his lap.

Mr. Gross had been right. Sean Lopez was a fucking nightmare that treated Kurt like shit—but he had learned a lot from him in the two days they had been working together. Sean had been in New York around the time Mr. Gross called him and he had said that he would prefer to work with Kurt there and find out if he was any good before they took him to LA. Apparently he did not enjoy the idea of losing his time on a talentless kid if he could help it, and he would have preferred not to waste any money on someone that wouldn't be worth their time.

He insulted him and made him feel like shit most of the time, but the fact that Kurt was sitting on a plane in that moment was a proof that the man did not really disliked him and he just held a scary resemblance to Sue Sylvester.

"I do think that this could be a huge opportunity for you. For what I've gathered, there're gonna be some big names in both the fashion and the music industry in that wedding and this could be really it for you, Kurt" Mr. Roberts had told him the day he finally quit his job. Kurt had almost protested, but a glare from the man had been enough to simply take the advice and shut up.

Kurt wasn't as sure as Mr. Roberts had been. He had been proved many times in the past that he was not especial and that he shouldn't expect much from his life. It sounded pessimistic and bitter, but he sort of figured he had the right to feel that way after the things he had gone through in the past. The question, though, was why someone would take an interest on him when they were attending a famous' wedding.

Kurt held back a sigh, simply because he knew that noise annoyed Sean and he preferred to have him quiet and slightly polite than insulting him.

"Stop looking like someone kicked your puppy" Sean snapped, pinching him in the arm. Kurt winced, but did not protest. "And those clothes won't do, sweetheart, we're gonna have to go shopping as soon as we get there"

"I don't have the money to buy clothes. I brought three suits for the wedding and the rest of my clothes will have to suffice because I won't waste money unnecessarily" Oh, how much had times changed? Who would have believed that Kurt Hummel would be saying that clothes were a waste of money? His young self would be so angry and disappointed—he smiled at the thought of a younger Kurt yelling at him for the clothes he was wearing. Young Kurt would have been appalled if he'd known that Kurt would eventually start wearing baggy jeans, t-shirts and sweaters from the GAP on a regular basis…he would be appalled indeed. But then again, he would probably be more angry at the fact that he was neither of the things he had said he would be in school and that was enough to wipe the smile off his face.

"Don't be stupid" Sean said with a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand "You wouldn't have to spend any money. Gross told me that the bride would pay for anything we needed to make this work"

"We do not need clothes" Kurt said stubbornly, once again surprising himself.

"Oh, but we do. You are pretty, of course, but with those clothes you look pathetic and the last thing we need is to have the guest pitying you because you look like an starving child from Africa—even though you're white"

"You're rude" Kurt said with a pout, but decided that he would let him think that he'd won that time, simply because he did not want to argue.

"I never said I wasn't, dear, but I'm damn good at what I do, so I think I have the right" He said with a smug smirk. Yeah, Sean was a male version of Sue Sylvester. He was rude and arrogant and a fucking bastard that didn't have a mouth-filter, or at least did not know how or want to use it. He was what Kurt had thought he would be when he reached his age: flamboyant, irreverent, rich and appreciated in spite of all those things.

Kurt closed his eyes, choosing not to grant that comment with an answer, and allowed himself to fall asleep for what was left of the trip.