Authors' notes: This is a collaboration fic of JWM and deliriumbubbles. (please visit tumblr for our respective blogs)

Sequel to Aftermath

Warnings: mental illness, PTSD triggers, homophobic slurs

Summary: After having survived a brutal gay bashing and the implosion of his engagement, Kurt tries to cope with the aftermath of a traumatizing attack as well as his former terrible taste in men. Now, Kurt finds himself with too many options, in theatre, school, music, and his love life.


Part Nine

KURT

"You're like lesbians," Santana said, fussing with Kurt's collar. "Breaking up and going right back to cuddly handholding support."

Kurt smiled. "You and Dani set a good example," he replied.

"One of these days, Santana, maybe you'll stop using lesbian and lezzie as an insult… since you are one," Clover said with an arched brow. Santana turned her gaze away and pursed her lips. Clover looked to Kurt and changed the topic. "Walk me through it one more time. I always do before rehearsal, just a mental recount, and it makes me feel better."

Kurt ignored the peanut gallery, who had sat down to brush her hair and glare at Clover covertly, and closed his eyes as he talked through the assassination scene he'd been having trouble with. It had been a few weeks since his and Elliott's 'break-up,' and dress rehearsals were upon them. They'd all been told to bring a few friends to act as audience, since the next performance would have reviewers watching, ready and waiting to give them preliminary judgements. Of course, the audience would be experiencing a different show, depending on what night they came. During regular rehearsals, the creative team had decide that on half the nights, Samael would end up with Rosalinde, half with Jasper.

Clover clapped. "You've got it. Don't worry. If the producer were worried about the actors not being ready, he or she would put the brakes on, trust me."

"But the brakes are off on Funny Girl now too, aren't they?" Santana said.

"Oh, God, yes." Clover shook her head. "We're practicing non-stop. Sydney wants us ready to go by New Year's. The show was delayed so much already." She spread her palms. "So I'm glad I get to see you perform now, because pretty soon, my calendar's going to be booked."

"I remember. This is your only night off, isn't it?" Kurt said.

"And I get to see a free up and coming show." She smiled. "How sweet is that?" She rubbed his shoulder. "This is the first time with people watching. Pretty soon, you'll justthrive off them, you know? Their reactions, their surprise, the applause. All that Lady Gaga shit."

"Thanks." Kurt liked having Clover's calm, professional energy around. She'd even dressed 'up' for the occasion, with a pinstriped suit and her hair pulled back to the nape of her neck.

Then Elliott's voice came from down the hallway. "Down here? Do I just- Oh."

He entered Kurt's dressing room and stopped abruptly, his hands fiddling with his powder blue tie.

"Hey. Thanks for coming."

"Yeah, of course." Elliott scrunched up his nose and shook his head.

"So, um…"

"So… Your costume."

Kurt had a number of what might be called 'tricky' costumes. Both to get into, and out of. The designers had let their imaginations run wild with the 'dark elf' theme and somehow they had ended up with a cross between Edward Scissorhands and Alexander McQueen. Each piece was form-fitted with grommeted lace-up panels, hidden zippers that double-serviced as pointed darts, snaps and buckles– some ornamental, some functional. At his first fitting, Kurt had spent a few minutes figuring out which pieces were supposed to come undone and which weren't. And he wasn't exactly a beginner when it came to elaborate outfits.

This was partly also what dress rehearsals were for: to learn how to move in costume, and to train how to change in and out of them between acts. Unfortunately, his costume for the first act was the least flexible of all, and had suffered some during the last move.

"I wouldn't ask, but Mel is trying to help Sofia with her dress made of butterflies, and I don't know if they'll have time to get back around here."

"You're the star. You could just tell them," Elliott drew closer. Kurt's costume was definitely not made of butterflies. Elliott's eyes were suitably wide as he took in Kurt's leather-encased limbs and the chains that snaked up his body.

"I don't want to be that kind of a star. It's not the biggest emergency in the world. Sofia's butterflies are trying to fly away."

Elliott drew nearer and looked more closely at the outfit. Kurt watched his eyes, and after a moment, it was clear that Elliott had managed to stop being enthralled by the outfit on Kurt, and just become enthralled by the outfit itself.

That was a good sign. Kurt needed his expertise right now, not his heart-eyes.

"Let's go get some seats," Clover suggested.

Santana gestured to Kurt and Elliott. "But I wanna watch."

"I didn't know you were into Project Runway," Clover drawled.

Santana laughed and leaned over Elliott to give Kurt a kiss on the cheek. "You go make Auntie Tana proud."

Kurt fluttered his lashes and said in a light tone, "I'll try."

The girls grinned back at him, waving, and Clover took Santana's hand on the way out. Elliott knelt down to look at the waist of the outfit, how it fastened, and the detailing.

"Maybe you do need Mel in here. This needs to be re-fitted."

"It's supposed to be tight," Kurt said, a bit defensively.

Elliott moved his fingers over the fabric. "It's supposed to be form fitting. Part of this needs to be let out-"

"Ugh." Kurt grimaced.

"Hush. I mean up here in the chest and shoulders. You've bulked up a little… and we need to take in the waist. Either that, or we need to feed you."

"I can't eat when I'm this nervous. You'd think it would be the other way around, though. We've all been living off of takeout between school and rehearsals."

"Well, don't worry. It's fixable. Are all your costumes in need of proper fitting? It seems like a bad idea to leave that to the last minute for your lead." Elliott went over to get some pins.

"No, just this one. We've had fittings for the others, but this one kept breaking, so they had to work on it while we were getting everything else ready. Maybe they used the measurement sheets from my first week. The others were all done later."

"Well, fear not, my little elf." Elliott pulled up a stool. "We'll have you ready for showtime."

Kurt took a few deep breaths. "Good thing my dad saw the show costumes for One Three Hill. He probably needed something to brace him for this," he joked, and shimmied his hips, letting the chains that crisscrossed his groin jingle.

"Is he coming?"

"Not for the rehearsal. He's coming for opening night."

"Awesome," Elliott said warmly. He continued to work for another minute. "Who else is showing tonight? Me, Clover, Santana, Mercedes, Sam… I know Dani had to work, and she's pissed about it, but she'll come see the show when it opens. Adam?"

"He couldn't come. He said he had something to do. I told him I'd get him a ticket for opening night, too."

Elliott nodded. "We're all proud of you."

"I'm glad you all came. And don't lecture me on what real friends do, I know. But I'm happy anyway."

Elliott chuckled. "Okay. You can be glad. I'm not stopping you."

"I just appreciate you guys. That's all."

And of course he had to. How many times had his supposed 'friends' in the past let him down? Blaine had straight out skipped Pamela Lansbury's first performance, without phoning him to say he'd missed his flight. Rachel had overshadowed him, deliberately and not, many times. It had been a continuous raincloud on his parade to have these people around him.

Of course he was grateful to have people willing to celebrate his successes now, and to come support him in it as much as he would have supported them.

Elliott finished putting in his pins, then demanded that Kurt strip. It could have been awkward, considering the last time Elliott had seen him naked, but it wasn't. Elliott was already in full costume-saviour mode. Kurt did as he was told, and waited for Elliott to fix up the outfit. Kurt could have done it himself, but truthfully, he didn't think he could get his hands to stop shaking enough to use the sewing machine. This was it– the actual dress rehearsal for his very first real show.

There was a firm rap on the dressing room door, and Kurt grabbed his robe just before Alison came in.

"Hi!" Kurt pointed to Elliott. "See? He's taking care of it."

"What? Oh! The opening costume. Thank god. That butterfly dress is absolutely insane," Alison said with a shake of the head. She was a lot calmer these days than she had been during their beginning rehearsals. Kurt didn't know how to explain it, other than maybe she was the kind of person to flounder when there was less for her to control, and thrive within chaos.

Or maybe it had to do with her lead having fewer panic attacks.

"There are some reporters who would like to talk to you, Sofia, and Marco, if you're up to it, after the show tomorrow. We opted to keep them clear of our first run through," she said, taking a seat next to him.

"Sounds fine." Kurt nodded. He was listening, but also mentally running through everything, one more time.

They spoke for a few more minutes about press and a photo shoot they had planned to send out with the last wave of promotions, involving faux-nude shots of their three leads. Their make-up artist had also suggested using Kurt's scars as a base for his Samael look, exaggerating them so they could be seen from the audience. She had said it made him look even more authentic. Kurt couldn't help but feel a little proud of that. Then Alison rose to leave.

"Let me know if there's anything else we can do for you- Oh. I arranged for some extra security for the first few weeks, just in case," she said.

"Oh. Well, thank you." After some deliberation, he had decided to tell Alison about the online threat upfront, before she found out some other way. Now he was very glad that he had.

"It's not a problem. Especially if it keeps Samael on the stage, right?" She smiled and gave a wave to Elliott.

Elliott raised his brows at Kurt. "Anything for our star."

"I don't want to be like that!"

"It's not you, honey. They're offering. Because like me, they can see how special you are." Elliott rose with the costume. "Try it on. I think that'll do it."

"Thanks." Kurt slipped his robe off and began to pull the costume back on.

"Anyway, extra security actually sounds like a pretty good idea. Have you heard from them again?"

"Whoever it was posted a few other messages after finding my other YouTube videos, but they haven't found my phone number or address or anything like that. So far." Kurt shimmied into the pants, then pulled up the top.

Elliott stood in front of him and zipped him up. "They're trying to scare you."

"Well, if they want to come see me play with weaponry and kill people on stage, I'm not opposed, as long as they pay," Kurt said flippantly.

"Don't." Elliott brushed his hand over Kurt's hair gently, careful not to muss the work that had been put into it. "I don't want to think about those guys coming after my best friend again."

"It's not on the top of my bucket list either, but they're not going to make me stop living my life, or make me regret trying to stop them from hurting Kitt," Kurt said defiantly.

Elliott chuckled and shook his head. "Of course not." He squeezed Kurt's shoulder and bit his lip. "See you out there?"

"I can hardly wait, now. Finally with an audience."

"This night will get passed over in Broadway history. The opening nights of Samael andFunny Girl this year will get written down in textbooks, but tonight is no less legendary," Elliott said.

"Okay, okay." Kurt shooed him toward the door. "I need to finish getting ready. Thank everyone for coming for me?"

"You can do it after!"

"Still." Kurt paused by the mirror. His make-up team would be coming in a minute, pointy ear prosthetics, scars, and all.

"Okay. Break a leg, Shooting Star." Elliott winked at Kurt, and then was gone.


Rachel had once told Kurt, after she'd first been cast as Fanny, how strange it was to move from the stage back to the classroom. For once, she had been right.

Kurt sat in dramaturgy class thinking about how Romy's vision for the script of Samaelhad shifted between concept and execution. He looked at the listing for next semester's registration planning which classes he could take once a week and wondering if he could get into a more advanced acting seminar to push himself forward in that area. He caught Cassandra July out of the corner of his eye and considered whether he'd be up for an upper level dance course, now that he'd done professional choreography.

He wondered if he offered her a ticket, would she give him good feedback on his work.

That probably wasn't what Rachel had meant. She probably meant that it was strange to be a star walking around among the plebs. But Kurt didn't feel like a star. He just felt oddly mercenary about his education.

"Okay, partner up and practice your melees," the stage combat instructor directed. "One of you attacks, one defends. Take it across the room and then switch. And remember: the advancing party is the retreating party's eyes. They're going backwards, and you are responsible for them."

Kurt would definitely be taking the second semester of stage combat. It had been the single most useful class in preparing him for this role, and getting him comfortable enough in his body to attack the role the way he had.

Kurt looked around the stage combat class for available options. He saw several pairs of eyes glancing his way hopefully, but before he could ask anyone, someone had already chosen him. Feeling it would be childish to refuse, Kurt nodded briefly at Nikolas and flicked his wrist, spinning the wooden sword around his hand. Nikolas smiled eagerly. The instructor whistled and Kurt took a firmer stance, raising his shield and signaling to his combat partner he could start.

"So," Nikolas asked as he lunged at Kurt, "have you thought about those extra training sessions I suggested a while ago? Because I have…"

Kurt brought up his shield and warded off Nikolas' sword, grunting a little at the impact. "I thought you were-" He side-stepped to avoid the next blow. "Seeing someone?"

Nikolas paused for a moment, then attacked again. "I was. But now I'm not."

Kurt lowered his shield to look at him. "What happened?" he asked.

Nikolas shrugged and spun his wooden sword over his head before bringing it down. "He broke it off." He drove Kurt further back along the room, leading him around the obstacles with the direction of his blows. "He said he still had feelings for someone from his past, and that it wouldn't be fair to me."

Kurt almost forgot to parry. Adam still had feelings for him?

"He really said that?" he asked.

Nikolas nodded. "I should have known," he replied. "It was clear from the start he'd been through a rough break-up, but he was so hot… I really just wanted to give it a shot and see if I could change his mind." He smiled and swung his sword at Kurt's shield. "And when someone like that calls in the middle of the night, it's really kind of hard to say no, even if you know you're just the rebound, you know?"

Kurt knew, and he caught Nikolas' blow on the edge of his shield, nearly losing his balance. His words were more distracting than his attacks. Kurt thought about Adam. The last time they had spoken, Adam said he didn't plan on getting serious with Nikolas. Clearly Nikolas had managed to change his mind about that, in any case, even if it had just been for a night.

They had reached the end of the room, and Kurt raised his sword. It took all of his patience to wait for Nikolas' signal before attacking. It was unfair and immature, but he fueled all of his frustration into his attacks, bringing down his sword on Nikolas' shield over and over again, barely giving him time to parry. He wasn't exactly sure whom he was punishing; the man before him or himself, but it felt good to feel the clashes of wood on wood jolt through his arm.

Rationally, he knew it wasn't Nikolas' fault for trying to start something with Adam, but it still felt like he had taken something away from him; something that used to be his. But you dumped him, he reminded himself. You can't blame others for wanting to step in. He justified his attacks by focusing on Nikolas' flirty behavior; if he was already looking around for the next guy, clearly he hadn't really cared about Adam anyway, and didn't deserve him.

He didn't let up until their instructor whistled again. Nikolas was on his knees at the end of their lane, having sunk into a crouch at Kurt's last lunge. Both of them were breathing hard.

"I'm sorry," Kurt mumbled, offering him his hand to help him up.

"What for?" Nikolas replied, panting but managing to smile. "I knew what I was getting into when we partnered up." He slipped his hand up Kurt's arm, gripping his elbow. "Just think about it," he said in a low voice. "We make a good team."

Kurt nodded vaguely and pulled away. He was not interested in Nikolas' offer. The other man's words were still spinning around in his mind. Maybe he should go and see Adam. If there was some way to make up for what he had done, if there was still a chance for them, he wanted to try.


Kurt patted the ticket in his coat pocket and reached to his forehead to adjust his hair, his fingers brushing his skin looking for the ghost of the bangs he hadn't worn combed down and partitioned since joining Glee club. He felt more nervous than he probably should. Even though he knew he probably shouldn't read too much into it, his talk with Nikolas had given him hope that Adam might still be interested in getting back together. (That, or it could have been a line to let down Nikolas gently, but somehow Kurt didn't think Adam would do that). Elliott's advice about trying to be alone for a while was still in the back of his mind, but at the same time, a guy like Adam wasn't going to be single for long. If Kurt waited until he had sorted out all of his issues, it might be too late.

He knocked on Adam's door and put on a smile. When the door opened, he immediately started talking.

"Hey! Sorry for turning up without calling first; I know you're probably tired from work, but I wanted to bring you your ticket personally, you know, with compliments from the lead." He winked and pulled out the ticket. "Opening night, front row." He lifted himself up on his toes and dropped down again, feeling a little giddy.

Adam beamed a smile at him. "That is so sweet of you, Kurt! Thank you! I really look forward to it."

Kurt looked at Adam fondly as he watched him accept the ticket, holding it carefully by the edges to read the print. It had Kurt's name on it right under the title and Alison's credits.

"This is amazing," Adam said reverently. "You'll have to sign it afterwards. It'll be my pension fund." He winked.

Kurt grinned, feeling pleased. "Something smells good," he remarked, breathing in deeply from the scent that was wafting through Adam's doorway. "What are you making?"

Adam looked over his shoulder as if he only just remembered what he'd been doing before Kurt came. "Italian," he replied. "Or, well, Max is."

He opened the door a bit.

Kurt saw a tall, dark-haired man standing in Adam's small kitchen, wearing nothing but sweatpants and Adam's apron that said "Kiss the Cook." His biceps bulged out as he grated a large hunk of cheese over a bowl. Kurt swallowed, feeling his giddiness fizz out like fireworks in a puddle.

As usual, Adam was able to read Kurt's emotions right off his face, and he added quietly: "Max is… an old friend from Essex. We used to share a flat together."

Kurt nodded, chewing his lip. It's wasn't hard to fill in the gaps of what else they used to share.

"We broke it off when I left for the States," Adam continued, confirming Kurt's suspicions. "The long distance wouldn't have worked, with both of us studying, never having the time or the money for visits. It seemed like the rational thing to do."

"I guess so," Kurt agreed, thinking of Blaine. There hadn't even been an ocean between them, yet it had been far away enough for Blaine to feel the need to cheat on him. Why hadn't they been able to make a mature decision like that? It would have saved them both a lot of heartache.

"I hadn't seen him in five years when he suddenly showed up here, looking for a place to stay," Adam continued. "He's applying for a job as a chef at some of the larger restaurants in the city. He's quite good."

"Mmm. I can see that," Kurt replied, now watching Max dice vegetables with a speed that would make others lose a finger.

Visitors from England were not a rare occasion at Adam's place. Basically everyone he knew (or his family and friends knew) used his place like a cheap youth hostel. Where else were you going to find an affordable place in New York that even had decent tea? Kurt knew Adam was far too polite to ever turn anyone away, and maybe he enjoyed the company from home, too.

It certainly looked like he was enjoying this company, anyway, judging by the state of undress the man was in. Kurt only now realized Adam's shirt was inside out, like he had just thrown it on before opening the door.

"So… are you two…?" Kurt trailed off.

Adam looked back inside over his shoulder. "Trying to pick up where we left off? Yeah, I suppose. He's applied for a green card. If he's really staying, it wouldn't be a long-distance thing any more." Adam turned to Kurt and smiled. He looked content and hopeful.

"Right."

Kurt was starting to feel numb. Maybe Elliott was really right. Maybe he should just be alone– if nothing else, just to avoid these kind of emotional roller coasters. He watched Max whisk the vegetables into the bowl with his knife. It felt like watching a cooking show.

The man must have noticed his eyes on him, because he suddenly looked up. "Oh, hello," he said, and put the knife down. He quickly wiped his hands on his apron.

The one I gave Adam for Valentine's last year, Kurt's mind supplied as his lips formed a half-mumbled, "Hi."

Adam opened the door the rest of the way and looked from one to the other. "Sorry. Kurt, this is Maximillian Kamal."

"Max, please," the man corrected, walking up to the door with his hand out. "Only my nan ever calls me Maximillian."

He had a deep, warm voice and his accent was undeniably British, and just as irresistible to Kurt as Adam's was. Kurt shook his hand. "Kurt Hummel." His own voice sounded shrill in comparison, his accent flat and dull.

"The Kurt Hummel, who's starring in that musical I keep telling you about," Adam added enthusiastically. He held up his ticket and hopped up and down on his feet a little.

"Wow," Max replied, nodding appreciatively. "I heard you're still in school. Pretty amazing opportunity, this part. Well done, you."

"Thanks." Kurt hesitated. As much as he wanted to dislike the guy, he seemed nice. More mature than Nikolas, anyway. "I, um, could probably get you a ticket too," he offered.

"Really? That would be amazing! I haven't been to any shows in New York yet, though I've been dying to. For years, Adam's been telling me how everything worth seeing starts right here in the Big Apple, and that he was going to be a part of it."

Adam cleared his throat. "So much for that," he mumbled. "Though I suppose bringing stage actors their lattes sort of counts."

"Everyone has to start somewhere. I worked in a coffee shop, too, y'know," Kurt said. "You'll get your chance."

"I keep telling him that," Max agreed. "Say, you want to stay for dinner? I just need to finish stuffing the cannelloni, it'll only take a sec. Oven's already warmed up, and Adam's got this fantastic wine-"

Kurt shook his head. Even if he did sort of like him, watching Max and Adam being this domestic was simply too soon. He didn't want to see Max wear that apron, in Adam's kitchen, stuffing cannelloni. It would inevitably lead to thoughts of him without that apron, in Adam's bed, stuffing other things. And it was definitely too soon for that. "I wish I could, but I have this… thing…"

"Of course," Adam said, stopping Max from insisting so Kurt wouldn't have to specify. "Kurt's always so busy. Well. Thank you, again, Kurt, for the ticket," he held it up, "and good luck with the final rehearsals. I really can't wait."

"Me neither," Max added pleasantly.

Kurt thanked them and left, feeling hollow. He said he still had feelings for someone from his past. Well, that had turned out to be true, Kurt scoffed. He should have known Adam hadn't been talking about him. Why would Adam ever long back to the time where Kurt left him for his lying, cheating ex-boyfriend? Even if they were friends now– maybe especially because they were friends– Adam knew how Kurt had a tendency to make a mess of his relationships. And he didn't even know about Elliott yet. There was no way he'd break up with someone because he felt nostalgic about that.

Maybe, Kurt thought, he just couldn't have it all. Maybe his dad's remission, and Samael, and having this wonderful group of friends who supported him and cared about him, cancelled out his chances of ever being happy in love. "It should be enough," he told himself sternly. "It's more than I deserve."


As it turned out, Kurt didn't have much time to think about Adam and Max and what they might or might not be doing in the weeks that followed. Samael was moments before its premiere night, with several glowing pre-premiere reviews from reputable theatre critics, One Three Hill and Jopez had been approached by a talent scout for a possible collaboration or even a record deal (provided OTH changed their name to make it easier to differentiate from the TV show- they were still talking about that, with Dani suggesting The Nip Slips every opportunity she got), and the police finally seemed to be cracking down on Kitt's case. Despite Kurt's misgivings, they had managed to link the user who had left threatening messages for Kurt to a twitter account that boasted about another case of violence against a member of the LGBTQ community, and it gave them grounds to search the suspects' computers. They wouldn't disclose what they had found, but Kitt's sister had confided in Kurt on the phone that it might be enough to finally bring the case to court. The prospect of facing Kitt's killers again and testifying, reliving his story while they were in the room terrified Kurt, but he knew it was something he had to do. If not for himself, for Kitt and his family, and for all of the community who'd be just that little bit safer with the killers behind bars.

In all, the good, the bad and the scary were distracting enough from his love life to make time fly by.

Now, it was finally opening night, and Kurt knew that for the next several hours, at least, there would be no lovers on his mind except Samael and Rosalinde.


ADAM

Adam made his way to the front row of the crowded theatre, marveling at the grandeur of it all. This theatre was almost twice as big as the one he worked for, and yet it was completely packed. It was a very mixed audience. Some of them had dressed to the nines like they were attending a Broadway premiere or Oscar Night, others were more casual or simply New York City chic. Adam smiled as he saw a group of brightly clad drag queens in the middle section, animatedly discussing something on the playbill. He wondered if they might be acquaintances of Kitt, or if word had simply gotten around about Kurt. He thought he recognized Kitt's family in another row, though it was hard to tell having seen them only once at the memorial service.

As he reached the first row of seats, he was relieved he had chosen to dress up too, otherwise he might have looked very much out of place. He smiled at Santana, who was sitting in between Dani and Clover, looking like a queen with her (suited) ladies in waiting. There was no sign of Rachel, but after what Kurt had told him about the way they had parted, Adam hadn't really expected her to be there. She had never been very good with being happy for anyone else's success. He found his seat next to an older looking couple who was also studying the playbill. He looked at the jackets piled on the chair next to them. He politely cleared his throat.

"Um. Sorry. It's just, um, I think this is my seat?"

The man looked up from the playbill and immediately apologized, picking up the jackets.

"I'm sorry, I was going to put them away but then we got a little distracted– Our son's in here, you know?" He held up the playbill.

Adam smiled and immediately brushed aside their apology. "No problem at all. What part is your son playing?" He settled down next to them and picked up the playbill that was on his seat.

"Samael." The man looked like he might burst with pride.

"You're Kurt's parents!" Adam let out in surprise. Now that he looked at Burt, he did see a vague resemblance. The woman next to him had to be Carole, Kurt's stepmom. He held out his hand to her first. "I'm Adam. I'm a friend of Kurt's."

They shook hands. Adam immediately liked Carole, with her warm smile and friendly greeting. Burt looked like a tough guy to cross, though he seemed quite harmless at the moment.

"So where do you know Kurt from? You're not in his band, right?" Burt asked, and he nodded towards Dani and Santana.

Adam followed his eyes back a row and saw that Mercedes and Elliott had arrived as well. Mercedes was looking extremely glamourous in a tight sequined dress, and Elliott had put on his tux from one of their OTH performances.

"No, I met Kurt at NYADA," Adam explained. "I graduated last semester." He held up the playbill. "Your son is extremely talented, Mr Hummel. I never had a doubt he'd land a leading role like this."

"Call me Burt," Kurt's father replied, looking very pleased. "So, you graduated, huh? What do you do now? Are you, uh- in some kind of show as well?"

Adam smiled and shook his head. "Sadly not. I'm auditioning, but… it's tough out there. In the meanwhile, I got a job as a stage manager assistant. It's alright."

"Well, I'm glad you found something. You know, before Kurt got this part, I was a bit worried about his career opportunities. I mean, I know he's got the talent for it, but that doesn't mean people are gonna give him a job, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Adam agreed. "Casting can be quite arbitrary and nepotistic, and it's a marketplace like any other business. Artists who don't fit the mold are harder to sell. Though in Kurt's case, the director simply decided to fit the mold around him."

The first bell rang, signaling for everyone to find their seats. The seat beside Adam was still empty and he checked his phone.

"Still expecting someone?" Burt asked.

"Yes… a friend," Adam replied, looking at the entrances. The lights in the seating area were being dimmed. Adam shook his head a little and turned his phone off. He was not going to let anything ruin Kurt's big night. Just as he had picked up his conversation with Burt and Carole again, Clementine appeared from behind an usher with a flashlight.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, looking slightly harried. "There were two people fighting on the subway, and someone pulled the emergency break. We had to wait for the police to get there before they could get going again."

"Wow. I'm happy you're okay. You didn't miss anything yet," Adam assured her. "It's usually a few minutes between the first bell and the last before they actually get started." He saw Burt and Carole smiling at her and quickly introduced them. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Clementine excused herself to go and say a quick hi to a few other friends from NYADA who were seated a few rows further back, lighting her way with her cellphone.

"I'm glad your girlfriend made it," Burt offered kindly.

"Girlfriend? You mean Clem? Oh, we're not- she's just…" Adam stuttered, a little surprised. "She's like a little sister to me, really. I'm uh, more inclined to the other gender."

"Oh. Oh," Burt mumbled, his eyes going a little wider as he took in Adam's appearance with a new kind of scrutiny. "Are you sure?"

Carole hit his arm and shot him a warning look.

"Quite sure, yes," Adam replied, smiling. He didn't mind too much when people made assumptions about his sexuality per default, though he did always correct them.

Burt looked like he wanted to say something else, but stopped himself when Clementine returned. They settled into their seats as the lights went down and the first act began.