Spoiler warning for the Diva episode, this is a reaction drabble to Diva. Apologies to the anon who hadn't seen the episode yet and pointed out the need for a spoiler warning.


Damn, that felt good.

He watched the brown-nosers walk away, almost able to picture their tails between their legs, and amused himself for a moment trying to figure out which animals they'd be and what kind of tails they'd have. That one could be a weasel, and other...a scavenging hyena. He nodded to himself, pleased with his casting.

The very air felt different as he walked through the school today, brushing against his skin lightly like a warm bath, seeping into his body to relax his posture slightly, letting him breathe just that little bit easier. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding himself, till he didn't have to anymore.

The continuous score of hallway conversations had modulated keys overnight. People knew who he was now. He received nods of acknowledgment and hands undulating discreetly in silent applause as he passed. Students who had never bothered to introduce themselves now congratulated him in whispered asides, kept quiet because officially, the NYADA faculty didn't know about the Midnight Madness escapades.

It had been a rough few months since he moved to New York, though he hardly realized it after surviving four years at McKinley and his entire life in Lima. His daily existence since puberty had been one of constant vigilance, meeting threatening eyes with defiant ones of his own, reminding himself each morning as he chose his outfit for the day that he would damn well wear what suited him, and never cower down to the pressure to 'be normal'.

Even Glee Club, which had given him his first taste of belonging to a group, had been a struggle for him most of the time. The chaotic ocean of New Directions, filling the space between the far-apart shores of sophomore year and graduation with the overwrought emotions, petty rivalries, makeups, breakups, loves, friendships, loyalties and competitions of its members, had often left him stranded on a shore, trying to stay upright as the waves came crashing upon him. Only in the rare moments that they came together, usually in performance, did he feel himself bound tightly into the bonds that unified them in all their joyful undisciplined insanity. Only then was he reminded of why he stayed in the Glee Club. In those fleeting, intangible moments, he knew he belonged.

And yet...there had still been that sinking feeling each time he was passed over for a solo, the disappointment in his friends every time they passed by as another jock menaced him. There was still the alienation of being the only boy who wanted to sing with the girls. He still sat by himself at the edge of the choir room while he defended his right to not pray to a God he didn't believe in, while his dad laid in a hospital bed fighting for his life and his friends thought they could solve his problems by singing religious songs.

Aside from moments spent performing, there were only two places he could truly feel safe to relax and be himself, or rather, two people who could make him feel that way. The first was his dad, who'd always been there for him, who knew him even when he didn't understand him. His trust in his dad was felt on a cellular level, far beyond any questioning or doubt.

And then there was Blaine, who understood him in the ways his dad couldn't. Blaine who reached into the frozen core of him and pulled him close to his own heart. While his dad had been there for him for him as far back as he could remember, it was Blaine who had represented his future.

And then he moved to New York. And in the pulse of this restless, on-the-go, ever changing metropolis, he felt more at home than he ever had anywhere else. But he lost his dad as a presence in his everyday life. And just a few weeks later, he lost Blaine entirely. Even the joy of walking down the street in his most fabulous outfit, reveling in the admiring second-takes he'd get in place of the sneers and ridicule he'd always endured, dimmed without those two anchors in his life.

NYADA had been a rough start too. It both was and was not what he expected, hoped for, dreamed of. His classes were amazing—each morning entering a school for the sole purpose of singing, dancing, acting, discussing the finest plays and musicals ever written with like-minded people—it felt like a different planet. This was school? Seriously?

And yet, even here where more people were like him than anywhere else he'd ever been, he'd had trouble finding his place. Entering mid-year hadn't helped any, and starting a semester after Rachel meant that he didn't even share many classes with his roommate and best friend. Although he felt accepted here, he also felt invisible.

Until he stood in front of his classmates, impossible to ignore in the spotlight, as he hit notes that most guys in this school could only dream of singing. Till he countered Rachel's overly-gesticulated performance—he adored the girl, but for love of Sondheim, could she not tone it down—with his own interpretation of a song he'd admired for years. Though he didn't regret the choice he'd made three years ago to lose their first diva-off, it had grated on him ever since that he hadn't shown what he could really do. That once again, he'd had to dampen his own talent and individuality so as not to stand out too much.

But no more. Not here. Not in this city, this school...he could finally let his fire burn as brightly as he'd always wanted. And even if he crashed, even if he burned to messy ashes and this moment was blown away by the winter winds...he'd had this moment. He watched the annoying sycophants walk away, and acknowledged the smile of a girl who winked at him as she passed by. Yeah, they knew who he was now. And damn, it felt good.


Minus the A/Ns, this drabble was exactly 1,000 words long. Couldn't have done it if I'd tried.