AN This chapter makes up for the last chapter, big time. I think you'll enjoy . . . please r/r!

"That was a great show, Will . . ." Emma sighed and bit her lip as Will merely nodded, looking straight ahead as the two of them left the crowded theater. He looked positively miserable, she observed, far from what she expected of his attitude having had a sellout crowd for his first endeavor on Broadway. She shook her head.

"Isn't there an after event or something you have to head to now?" Merely shaking his head and raising his hand to hail a cab, he shrugged.

"I promised you coffee and catch up time, remember? I told the crew I wouldn't be making it – that I had a friend from out of town flying in and all . . ." He folded his arms over his chest, almost as if trying to keep himself together. He probably was, Emma guessed . . . she hadn't seen him this upset since the glee club had lost regionals in their first year. What in the world was going on here?

She jumped when he chuckled, a sound that had no cheer to it . . . God, what had happened to him?

"I'd really like someone to talk to, Em, if you don't mind . . . I'll put my coat down on the seat if that's what you're worried about." She shook her head. Now he was mistaking the concern on her face as one of her issues with OCD. . .

"That's not what's wrong Will, I mean thanks for the gesture and all, I appreciate it, but . . ." She sighed. "Are you okay?" He visibly gulped – one of those Adam's apple moving gulps, and Emma's brow furrowed. "Will?"

"Um, no. No, I'm not really." He slipped off his jacket as the cab pulled up to the curb, and opened the door to place it on the seat for Emma. "I'll talk about it when we get to the shop. After you." He motioned for her to sit down, she did, and he shut the door and walked around to the other side.

The ride was silent and uncomfortable. Will looked out the window for most of it, an absent look on his face, and Emma looked at him and tried to figure out just what on earth was troubling him so much. This was one of his dreams, wasn't it? So why was he so utterly despondent? Maybe . . .

"So . . ." she began, and he held a hand out to silence her.

"In a minute, Em, we're pulling up now and I really don't want to have this discussion in a cab." She nodded, and they both got out of the now stopped vehicle to make their way into a cafe. It was a hole-in-the-wall type place, small, clean, but relatively empty of customers. Making her way to the table alongside him and pulling her hand sanitizer out of her purse, she distracted herself for a full minute before finally having to speak up.

"So what's going on?" She asked and when he didn't start speaking, she sighed. He seemed to be deep in thought, and making far too big a deal of shaking the sugar down to the bottom of its packet. She'd had enough.

"Will! What is wrong with you?" Finally, a reaction. He stopped his fidgeting abruptly and looked at her in shock, probably due to the tone of her voice, she supposed. Running his hand through his hair, he found his voice.

"I think I may be . . . depressed." he laughed bitterly, and Emma frowned, waiting for him to continue, hoping that he would. He did. "I mean, when I left Ohio, I knew that this was going to be hard on me. Everyone I know is down there. My parents, you, the . . ." he shook his head, not finishing the sentence, but Emma knew what he was going to say. She really had no gentle way to approach that particular thought.

"Will, the Glee club's gone . . . at least as you knew it. You knew they were going to grow up someday, and they're all over the country now, you know?"

"I do know that. Intellectually at least, I know. It's just that I get to thinking about home and they're all part of it . . . and this whole Broadway thing . . . it's just not the same. It's nothing like what I dreamed of, you know. I always thought it would be this big group of talented people enjoying performance and singing and music . . . but it's not! It's completely depressing – like because they're adults they can't just enjoy what they do. They're just so worried about the money and fame aspect that they completely lose the point. They do everything I taught my kids not to do with their lives, and it's upsetting. It freaks me out actually. I mean, what if Rachel got to LA and lost her love for the arts, just got hung up on becoming a star and stopped enjoying the process . . . and Kurt . . ." At this point, his voice cracked and he had to blink away a few tears. "God, Emma, you have no idea how much I wanted him to walk through the door during open auditions . . . and he never did. Every day since I've been here, I've looked in the paper to see if his name was in there – that he was doing something with all that talent of his, and nothing. Nothing! Not a word. I gave him my goddamned business card before I left and he hasn't even called." Emma sighed.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"Unlisted. I checked . . . it's like he dropped off the planet. I just . . . don't know what to do about the whole thing, you know? I'm worried about him and there's no way to find out if he's okay . . ."

"Have you tried Mercedes?" Will's eyes widened, and Emma nearly gasped with the change that came over his features. Hope. She watched him fumble with his cell phone, punching in 411 with trembling fingers, and then raising the device to his ear.

"Boston, Massachusetts . . . Mercedes Jones."

Mercedes was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. Oh, thank God for Skype . . . she didn't even want to know how much she would have been missing her friend if it weren't for their every other day video chats.

"I mean really, Mercedes, it was worse than Rachel's Gaga outfit . . . at least Berry had the sense to leave out the bunny slippers . . . and the raccoon hat. I don't know how this girl even got into this school!" The young woman shrugged and shook her head.

"We can't all have your fabulous fashion sense." Kurt smirked.

"It's a tragedy." He sighed over dramatically. Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"Speaking about tragedy . . . tell me, please, that you're going to snap out of that fool funk of yours pretty soon and audition. This is getting out of hand!" About to reply, Kurt was interrupted by Mercedes' ringing phone. She scowled, glanced at the caller ID, and frowned.

"What's wrong? Aren't you going to pick it up?" The man on her computer asked, regarding her curiously. Second ring . . .

"Manhattan area code . . ." she murmured. Kurt looked at her in confusion. Third ring . . .

"Who else do you know from NYC?" She shrugged.

"Guess I'm going to find out. . ." Fourth ring, and she picked up the phone . . . and almost dropped it in shock when the voice came in on the other line, her eyes going wide. She noticed Kurt looking like he was going to say something, probably ask who it was, and his look turned to confusion when she shook her head, put her finger to her lips to tell him to stay quiet, and pushed the button for the speakerphone.

"You still there?" Mercedes watched as Kurt's eyes widened in recognition and surprise, and then she replied.

"Y-yeah, Mr. Schue, I'm still here . . . you kind of caught me off guard." She laughed nervously. What the hell was he doing calling her? "What's up? And don't tell me you need a diva for some show of yours, cuz I'm really busy with school right now . . ." He laughed, and she couldn't help but smile.

"No, no . . . that's not it at all – though you are quite the diva . . ." he paused. "I actually have a question for you."

"Really . . . that's different. . . okay, so . . ."

"I'm kind of worried about Kurt." Mercedes looked to the equally shocked young man on her screen. "I kind of expected I would have heard from him by now, and there hasn't been any word from him . . . I just wanted to know if he was alright."

"Um, he's fine, Mr. Schue . . . I was just talking to him, actually." She was surprised by the sound of the relieved sigh that came over the line . . . could practically hear him smiling through the phone.

"That . . . that's great. Could you, maybe ask him to give me a call next time you talk to him? I kind of miss him . . ." Mercedes smirked and bit her lip so as not to burst out laughing at the current shade of Kurt's cheeks. "Not that I don't miss all you guys . . . I just . . ." Will added quickly, obviously trying to make sure her feelings weren't hurt. They weren't, but, she figured it was good of him just the same.

"You just miss me more."

Mercedes had heard the term 'deafening silence' before, but never fully appreciated it before. She looked to her screen, where Kurt was covering his mouth and blushing impossibly redder than he had before . . . and she had a sneaking suspicion that somewhere in Manhattan a particular ex-teacher of hers was doing the same.

"You . . . he . . ." Schuester stuttered. "Kurt's in Boston?" She couldn't help it, maybe it was nerves, but she laughed.

"Uh . . . no, Mr. Schue . . . like I said, I was just talking to him. Um . . . it's a video conferencing thing online." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I'm in Manhattan. I'm fine. I'm just busy with school and I have my reasons for doing what I'm doing . . ." he bit his lip. "Look, if you want, I have to do some trend observation down at Penn station tomorrow . . . it's not my usual cup of tea, but I can meet you at Tim Horton's and we can catch up . . ."

Mercedes blinked in mild surprise . . . she didn't think Kurt could still shock her about anything . . . turned out she'd been wrong. Ugh, looked like she'd gone and pulled that card out of the trash can for nothing. Gross.

"That . . . that would be great. How does two sound?" Kurt smirked mischievously and mouthed the words 'hang up after this' to Mercedes. She smiled and nodded, shaking her head in amusement. He really was a drama queen.

"Sure Will, it's a date."

Click.

Will brought his cell phone from his ear and looked at the screen dumbly. Three minutes, fifty two seconds. Less than four minutes and he was more confused than when he began. Though, he had to admit, definitely feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"So . . . how did it go?" He jumped, startled. Embarrassed, he realized he'd forgotten Emma was there. He smiled.

"Good. Great, actually . . . Mercedes had been talking with Kurt over some video chat thing when I called. He's going to meet me at Penn Station tomorrow." Emma nodded, took a sip of her coffee, and smiled.

"Well good . . . I do have to ask you something though." Will nodded.

"Okay . . ."

"Any particular reason you just sounded like a high school boy with a crush?" He blushed, and stared at her in shock. She laughed. "Well, I do see that look that was just on your face. . . and that tone. . . just about every day, Monday through Friday, at least . . ." Will tried to shake his surprise.

"Emma, I'm 32 years old . . . I think I'd know by now if I liked men. . ." She rolled her eyes, and he narrowed his.

"Please Will. There are married men with children that don't realize they're homosexual or bisexual . . . and really, I've guessed the later about you for years." Will stared at her in disbelief.

"He's 18!" She took another sip of her coffee.

"So?"

"He was my student!"

"And? Was is the operative word there, Will. . ." She sighed. "I think it would do you a world of good to be open minded about this. . . I think you may have feelings for him." Flabbergasted, Will waited for her to stop looking at him and start laughing . . . to say that she was joking. She didn't.

"You're serious."

"Serious as my psychology degree, Will. Look, just think about it. I have to get back to my hotel and get some rest before my flight." She smiled, stood, took his chin and guided him to look at her. "I want you to be happy . . . I don't ever want to see you looking the way you did earlier ever again. . . promise you'll try?" He sighed, frowning slightly.

"I'll try."

"Good. I'll see you soon . . . and please call me?" Will nodded, and Emma left. He shook his head and raised his now cold cup of coffee to his lips to take a sip.

Then he remembered something, and he smiled.

He called me Will.