Thank you all for the wonderful feedback! And Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it. :)
Rory's eyes widened as she nearly squeezed him to death, but after recovering from a moment of shock, he hugged her back, a small smile on his face.
She turned her head sideways so that she wouldn't be crying right into his ear, unknowingly shoving her crocheted beret into his face.
"Your hat is soft," he said after moving his head to get the beret out of his face. "And it's a nice color, too," he said a bit loudly so that she would hear him over herself.
"Thanks!" she replied with forced enthusiasm. "Cinderella-blue is my favorite color! It matches my eyes!"
He raised his eyebrows and then just patted her hair lightly in an attempt to calm her down. He didn't like it when people were unhappy.
When she finally let go of him, she swiftly turned away and set to searching for tissues in her purse so that he wouldn't see how screwed up her face was.
"Better?" he asked.
She picked the envelope out of her purse, threw it on the ground, and kept looking for her tissues.
"Not much," she said hoarsely.
"A little is better than nothing," he said happily. "Well, since you don't seem to be going anywhere soon, and since I have somewhere to go but no way to get there, and since I've done so much talking about myself, and you've done so much crying over something that must be rather horrible, I wouldn't mind it if you told me about this crisis that you're having, you know, when you can speak normally again."
Harmony found a package of tissues between her bottle of hairspray and her Mini BeDazzler. After ripping the package open, using up half of its contents, and taking a deep breath, Harmony said miserably, "I didn't get into NYADA."
She bit her lip after saying it, trying her hardest to somewhat contain herself.
Rory looked from her to the envelope on the sidewalk and then picked it up, slipping the letter out of it while Harmony tried not to pay attention.
"NYADA?" he asked, scanning the rejection letter. "That's the school that Rachel and Kurt are trying to get into."
"Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel? You know them?" Harmony asked with malice that would be obvious to just about anyone besides Rory.
"Yes, I'm in the glee club with them at McKinley High. They're both incredibly talented, and they're right nice people when they're not being all competitive and frightening. Are you friends with them?"
"No!" she snapped, not able to help herself. "I mean… I just met them once at a mixer for prospective NYADA students… Did they get in?" she asked bitterly, crossing her arms.
"I don't rightly know. I'm supposing they got their letters after school today. If you don't mind me saying, you seem kind of young to be graduating from high school."
"I skipped a few grades in elementary school," she said softly, trying to let a little bit of her pride come inching back from the dark place that the NYADA rejection had sent it to. "I just kept belting songs from the musical "Cats" in the middle of class until they bumped me up to the next grade. That didn't work for third grade, though, because the teacher was deaf. I did get over it eventually, because third grade is when we started music classes, and that's where I had the chance to sing to my peers and outshine them on a bi-weekly basis. Of course, I had singing lessons and theater classes outside of school long before I even got to kindergarten. But hey, an audience is an audience. I'll take one whenever I can get one… which is why I should have gotten into freaking NYADA!" she exclaimed, her voice escalating again. "I've been acting since I was a fetus! I learned to sing before I learned to breathe!"
"Isn't that impossible?" Rory asked, putting the letter back in the envelope and setting it down on the bench beside him.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But it's not, not for me! I'm Harmony. Performing is what I do. It's who I am."
"Well, what about the other schools you applied to? Did none of them accept you either?"
Harmony looked down at her Cinderella-blue shoes and said, "I didn't apply to any other schools."
"Oh," Rory said awkwardly. "You must be pretty confident, then."
"Just confident?" Harmony said as a string of memories ran through her mind. "You mean conceited? Narcissistic? Self-absorbed? Overzealous? Big-headed? Delusional? Go ahead, just say it! It won't be the first time I've been called those things!"
"No, I meant just what I said," he said calmly. "You're just… confident. I think that's a good thing for a person to be. Overconfidence could turn out to be an issue, but I reckon it's better than having no self-confidence at all. And now, I just really want to hear you sing."
"What? No. I…" Harmony paused, once again thrown off by his sudden turning of the conversation. "I need to get you home. I live close. We can get my car, I can look up directions to McKinley, and-"
"Please?" he interrupted. "And if you could, I'd love it if you didn't sing one of those popular American radio songs. I still don't understand what a super bass is."
"No! I am not going to sing for you right now, Rory Flanagan," Harmony told him firmly as she tried not to look at him. "I can barely breathe, let alone sing!"
Rory replied, "I thought you learned to sing before you learned to breathe…"
"I am dying inside, okay?" Harmony said, on the verge of throwing an Oscar-worthy fit. "I can't sing right now!"
"Sing a sad song. It'll be a really authentic performance," he said, smiling.
"Your positivity is gross," she stated, glancing at him to see if he was serious. "Why are you so simple?"
"Why are you so complicated?" he countered. "You said an audience was an audience, didn't you? Well, I'm right here, and the people on this street are here. If your life is performing, then live it."
Harmony just stared open-mouthed at Rory, having just experienced a weird pang in her heart at hearing his words. He just stared back with a soft little grin on his face, all innocence and naïveté.
"You said you're in the McKinley glee club, right?" she asked, taking a few last dabs at her eyes with a tissue.
"Yes, I am."
Harmony stood up purposefully.
"Sing backup," she ordered him as she shed her coat.
I smell a song coming on. ;)
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-Skye
