Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, nor would I care to with the current writing.
AN: This is the final part of this story. However, I'm not going to mark this as complete. There's a follow-up story, "Dance Me to the End of Love", consisting of a string of one-shots featuring other characters' POV. In order to make it easier for you all I'm going to continue posting those as part of this story. The first part will be up during the first week of March.
For all of you who've stayed with me throughout this, I hope you've enjoyed being here as much as I've enjoyed having you. Thank you.
Dance Alone Pt 10/10
He kept staring at the letter in his hand. It still said the same though, no matter how many times he read it. Kurt Hummel had not been accepted at NYADA.
He'd done everything in his power, and he still hadn't gotten in. Rachel had, but not he. She blew the audition, and had to resort to stalking the dean, and somehow that got her a spot? How does that make any sense?
It...was beyond his ability to comprehend. Yes, he knew his application could have, should have been stronger, had know so all year, but surely if that was so important – important enough to negate his audition – then he should never have been picked as a finalist at all. The evidence, however, pointed to exactly that. His audition hadn't mattered. Rachel's audition hadn't mattered.
Because if they had? Then things would be looking very much different, wouldn't they?
So. What the fuck was he going to do now? Breaking down was not an option. Not just because there was school to get back to in, he checked the time, much too soon for that, but because it wasn't productive. Kurt needed to be productive.
Right now was a time for action, not tears. He could cry over his dashed hopes later – it was, after all, what dark rooms, locked doors and pillows late at night were for.
Kurt focused on his breathing first, taking slow, deep breaths that would help him reign in his volatile emotions. Once he had achieved that, he made himself busy, brewing a cup of green tea, while trying to line up and run down his options.
First of all, he needed to decide whether or not to reapply to NYADA. While Blaine had said that Madame Thibedeaux didn't like it when students reapplied, Kurt had no idea if this was true or not. He was certainly not going to take Blaine's word for it. That way lay only disaster, he was sure. Still, there were other options. Other schools for performing arts, or even going the alternate route of not going to college, to try and make it without that safety net – or there was fashion.
But. He wanted this. Wanted NYADA, even though he hadn't even known about the school a year ago. I guess that's question 1 answered then.
He'd read up on the school after Miss Pillsbury had handed over her pamphlets, and knew that while they did admit applicants halfway through the school year in theory, in reality only about 5 percent of the student body had been allowed to start in January.
Still, it was a chance. Reapplying for a January admission would give him roughly six months to pad his resumé, he just needed to figure out how. And to do that he needed to first figure out with what.
It was possible he'd been rejected because Madame Thibedeaux didn't think he'd make it as a performer – he had, after all, been told on multiple occasions that his range and his preferences limited him. If that was the case... Well. Being different was something Kurt was proud of, and not something he was going to even try to change about himself. It was also something he thought could serve him well – he might not be as versatile as some, but he would stand out, and that was not a bad thing when it came to performing arts.
And if Madame Thibedeaux hadn't seen that, had in fact rejected him for it, well, then his esteem of her would plummet.
If, however, she felt he was lacking as a dancer or a singer, that he could – probably – do something about. He knew that he hadn't had even half the formal training most applicants had, both because of money and because he lived in Lima, but that he could fix.
Before he did so he needed to know though, and there was an easy way how. He could call the Madame herself.
It was a slightly terrifying prospect, but. It meant getting the answers to all his questions, and in one place as well, and who knew? Maybe his devotion would impress her, and weigh in his favor next time.
He looked at the time. Thirty seven minutes until class began, ten of which he'd need to actually get to class. That left him roughly 25 minutes for the call. He could do that. And if she needs more time than that to explain why I'm not suited for NYADA, then I really don't think I want or need to hear it all.
While looking up the number for NYADA on his phone Kurt also pulled out a couple of energy bars and sandwich fixings – there likely wouldn't be any time for a proper lunch, and he needed something in order to make it through the afternoon. Oh, and I need a paper for taking notes...
Once he was done he swallowed the last of his tea, took a deep breath, and dialed.
"Carmen Thibedeaux."
"Madame Thibedeaux, good day. This is Kurt Hummel, from Lima, Ohio. I–"
"Mr Hummel. You auditioned for NYADA. 'Not the Boy Next Door', correct?"
"Yes, madame."
"All acceptance letters have been sent out. If you haven't received yours it should arrive in a day or two, no more."
"Yes, madame, I am aware. I did, in fact, receive mine today, which happens to be why I'm calling. I wasn't accepted, and I was hoping you'd be willing to give me a few pointers as to why, so I'll know what to work on."
Because he was going to make it, the Madame's opinion on second chances – and, he assumed, second auditions that aren't Rachel Berry's, be damned. And if he still wasn't accepted into NYADA? He'd make it anyway. Kurt Hummel was getting out of Lima and he was going to shine, and nothing was going to be allowed to stand in his way.
There was a silence at the other end that dragged out and almost made him scream "say something!". Only his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip stopped him.
"Mr Hummel...
"Your grades are good. Your resumé however is, as I'm sure you know, weak. While your audition piece was impressive, I was concerned with the insecurity you showed – I was given your song choice when I arrived, and the fact that you apparently ended up changing your mind about what to perform right before going on stage was...slightly troublesome. It was a bold move, yes, and a very good performance. And while 'The Music of the Night' has been done to death, I have never had anyone audition with 'Not the Boy Next Door' before, making it a much better choice.
"That still doesn't change the fact that in changing your song that close to the actual performance you showed a hesitation I'd rather not see in a performer."
I wonder how she'd feel if she knew that that's how things always are in New Directions. Or that Rachel decided to back out of helping almost as late.
"In the end, however, it came down to character. NYADA is a tough school. We are not just looking for the best and brightest; we are also looking for students who can be trusted to make the most of what we're offering. Who can, shall we say, absorb the learning we provide without letting their egos stand in the way."
Kurt almost choked on air. And you accepted Rachel Berry? He bit down hard on his lip in order to keep the incredulous words from spilling out. Because as tempting as it was to question the sanity of that, that wasn't why he'd called. He'd wanted answers, but so far he'd only gotten more questions.
"I am aware that performers as a whole tend to lean towards diva attitude, and I rarely hold that against them, but there are lines.
"To be brutally honest, Mr Hummel, and since you asked I will be, the truth is that your behavior has crossed that line repeatedly in the past, and in a way that makes it impossible for me to in good conscience give you a place at NYADA."
Kurt was sure he was hallucinating. Or that the Madame was pulling his leg. He was too much of a diva for NYADA? He, but not Rachel? He felt a hysterical laughter rise, and forced it down, drawing instead on the unperturbed persona he'd perfected during years of bullying.
"And exactly what behavior would that be, Madame?"
"I was most worried, and appalled, to hear about your actions during your junior year." What the– "While I commend ambition, and would never stand in the way of a performer fighting for a role, or a solo, there are, as I said, limits to what I find acceptable.
"Transferring schools, leaving your choir hanging, chasing something 'better' is deplorable. I could, perhaps, have had some understanding for doing so once, with Dalton Academy being a clearly superior school, but twice in less than six months? That goes well beyond 'ambitious', crossing into mercenary, and quite frankly? That I am not prepared to have at my school."
Yes, he had to be hallucinating. Had to be. Either that, or...
"The fact that you then walked out on your team again for Nationals this year, for some imagined spite only confirmed that not admitting you was the right decision. NYADA trains its students to be stars, yes, but we also expect everyone to be able to work in the background, and as a part of a whole. Simply put: be it a Broadway show, an in-house concert or a paying job dancing in the background of a movie scene, being a performer means having to be reliable. It means having the kind of work ethic that allows your colleagues to trust that you will show up and do your job, and not make them scramble at the last minute to replace you.
"And you, Mr Hummel, have – on two separate occasions – forced your team to replace you on short notice, with everything that means in terms of finding a new soloist," And now I'm supposed to have been a soloist now? When did that happen, and where was I? "and remaking the set lists. Had this been a student under my care, the first such instance would have resulted in a warning, and the second in a recommendation that said student look over their future – preferably not at NYADA.
"I could have overlooked your lack of experience and training in favor of talent, which I will readily admit you have, but I cannot overlook a pattern of behavior that goes against everything I look for in a student. That, I should think, is not unreasonable."
Kurt shook his head. Oh, it was very reasonable, very understandable. He could agree with everything she was saying – or he would have, had she not been sprouting absolute nonsense.
He wrestled his emotions under control – yes, screaming at the woman and telling her exactly what he thought of her would be very satisfying, but it would also be stupid and contra productive. He needed to be calm, and logical, and set things straight without exploding. He needed to not make an enemy – or more of one, he guessed – of Carmen Thibedeaux, as she was his ticket out of Lima and into NYADA.
She had said she thought he was talented, and had hinted rather strongly that she'd been about to overlook everything else in favor of that. Surely she'd still be willing to do that once she realized the truth?
First of all he needed to confirm his suspicions.
"I assume it was Rachel Berry telling you this?" Oh, he was going to crush her. Exactly which 'her' he meant was uncertain he realized – though he found he was leaning towards both Rachel and Madame Thibedeaux.
"Yes. Now, I am not blind to the rivalry between applicants, nor to the lengths some will go to in order to get in. Even though I've only held this position for a few months I have heard more than a few horror stories and tall tales.
"Normally I would have doubted a student bringing me this kind of information, especially since you and Miss Berry could be seen as being in direct competition with each other. However, she was lucky enough to have your choir director – or should I say your former choir director? – confirm her story."
And that...complicated things. Rachel had been smart, he had to give her that. With Mr Schuester – and dammit, Kurt didn't think much of the man, but this was lower than he would ever have believed him capable of – backing her up, Kurt was at an impasse.
He did have one card left, an ace, but... His brain was much too good at coming up with worst case scenarios, realistic ones, and he knew he couldn't play that one. Looks like I'll have to fold. For now, at least.
"I see." Well. I still have fifteen minutes, so. In for a penny... Ice Queen persona firmly at the front he opened his mouth, readying himself for a large bite of sour apple. "Anything else you feel I should hear?"
Ten minutes later he hung up, and pried the fingers of his left hand open, absentmindedly massaging the marks from his nails. He felt numb, a feeling reminiscent of all those hours waiting at the hospital, hoping that his father would wake up.
All his hopes and dreams pinned on NYADA, all wrecked in the space of less than an hour. And oh god, how it hurt. Not just the rejection, because as bad as that was it was also not quite true, based on lies as it had been. The betrayal hurt more, as did the knowledge of the pleasure his failure to get into college would bring the people that had said he'd never make it.
Blaine knew about this. In the next instant his mind flashed from there to Blaine caused this. And there was no doubt. Blaine had known – his behavior earlier, his entire speech screamed it – and even if he hadn't been involved, even if he'd only known because Rachel had told him, he was still the cause of all this.
Rachel's primary reason for sabotaging his application had to have been to further her own chances, with the same being true for Mr Schue helping her. But, Kurt knew deep in his bones, they'd also done it to punish him. For leaving the New Directions, for not falling in line and doing as they wished, and for breaking up with Blaine.
"Damn them! Damn them all!"
His scream echoed between the walls, his chest heaved and his eyes burned. The people who had claimed to be family had stabbed him in the back. Mr "Teacher of the Year", Mr "I'm here for you" had sold him out. The girl fighting for the position of his best friend had torn him down. And the boy he'd loved, who he'd thought less than six months ago was about to propose – and who he would have had said yes to – who had sworn he loved Kurt... That boy had let them. Had helped them.
The ache inside intensified, and for a moment Kurt worried that he'd inherited his father's heart issues. And then he knew. It was heart related, yes, but not in a way a hospital could do anything about.
It was his heart breaking again. It was the remnants of his friendships burning to ash.
It was everything he'd loved for the past three years breaking beyond salvage, and it was taking everything he had to keep standing.
He picked up his things without thinking and walked out to the Nav. No matter what had happened he needed to go back to school, and act like nothing was wrong. It seemed impossible, but at the same time Kurt knew it wasn't. He'd done exactly that for years, and had managed to fool just about everyone, including family and friends, even on the days he'd been contemplating ending it all. When push came to shove, this was no different. It should be easier, even, with how it was almost over. Five more days of classes, and then graduation. He could keep it together for six days, right?
Except he didn't think he could. Hell, he couldn't even bring himself to start the car.
Going back to McKinley was going back to Hell, and Kurt had lost the strength needed to do so.
His head fell forward, leaning against the steering wheel, and he started shaking. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He couldn't do this. He just couldn't. He'd been able to walk into Hell on Earth day after day because he'd believed that it would, in fact, get better. Not in Lima maybe, but once high school was over and he got out. And now he didn't have that any longer. He had absolutely no idea what to do, no belief and no direction, and without that he also had no strength.
How the hell did I let Rachel talk me into thinking this was a good idea? How could I let myself end up without a backup plan?
A dry sob passed his lips, and he could feel tears welling up. No. He was not going to cry. Not now.
He forced himself to uncurl, forced himself to sit up straight and take deep slow breaths, and tried to gather his scattered thoughts. It was hard, and he ended up pulling out his phone and turning on some music. Music had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, had helped him more times than he could count. Hopefully it could help one more time.
Soon he was moving with the rhythm, humming along, feeling his pulse slow down.
And then his brain caught up with what was playing. Huh. That...could work. One idea lead to another, his thoughts leaping from point to point, coming up with what could actually be a viable plan.
He picked up his phone again, tapped out a message, and then started the car. The time for panic and self-pity was over. Now it was time to fix things.
"Miss Pillsbury? Do you have a minute?"
"Of course. Come in, Kurt."
He walked in, closed the door behind him, and sat down stiffly. It had only been a few weeks since his last visit, since what he'd intended to be his last ever visit, and yet there he was, swallowing his pride.
"You said, if there was something you could help with..." He hadn't intended to take her up on it, but. Circumstances had changed, hadn't they, and he was out of options.
Apparently him asking made Miss Pillsbury happy for some reason, her entire body radiating relief.
"Yes. Definitely. As long as it's in my power, whatever you need."
"Something has come up, and well. Could you see if it'd be possible for me to miss a couple of days of school?"
His request confused her, that much was obvious, and yeah, that was understandable. After all, school was almost over.
"Ye-e-e-s, I can do that. I'm assuming it's important, if it can't wait until after next Friday? How many days are we talking?"
"Uuuuuh, well, all of them actually. I know it's a bit...unorthodox, but it's only six days, others" and they both knew who he meant "has missed almost as much, recently, and I'm done with all of my finals and I've handed in every assignment that we've been given. I can't see anything happening in those days that should have an impact on my grades.
"And to be honest? I need this. I need to leave, now, before–" before someone manages to talk me into staying, before I manage to convince myself that it's a good idea, before I start believing I'll never get out of here, before I get trapped.
Before I start believing I should agree to whatever it is Blaine's planning.
And that, right there, was the reason for his need to run as fast and as far as he could. Blaine, and his own damn tendency to let Blaine talk him into things he should know better than to agree with. What Blaine had done was unforgivable – and yet, Kurt knew that given even half a chance Blaine would twist things around enough that Kurt would forgive him.
Hell, he might even end up blaming himself. He'd done his best to not fall into that trap since the breakup, yes, but after the blow he'd just received... He was strong, but everyone's strength could falter.
He bit down on his lip, stopping the thoughts and trapping the words inside. Miss Pillsbury's wide eyes and understanding expression made it beyond clear she realized at least some of what was running through his head anyway. Chances were she'd seen hundreds of kids in his position, or a version of it at least, so she should get where he was coming from.
He even saw her begin to reach out for him, before stopping halfway. Good. He didn't do too well with touch outside of his loved ones, and the way he was feeling there was a risk he'd freak out – or start crying.
"Okay. I can do that. Now, McKinley does have a policy to not grant extended leave without good reasons, but between your record, the fact that we're so close to graduation – and you're right, nothing happening in class those days should have any impact what so ever on your grades – and my recommendation it shouldn't be a problem.
"Let me talk to your teachers, and get back to me at the end of the day, okay? Good, see you then Kurt. Oh! Are you going to make it to class, or do I need to sign a pass for you?"
He looked at the time. Three minutes. Enough to make it to class, even if there'd be no time to swing by his locker. Not that I really want to. Who knows who's laying in wait for me this time.
"No, I'll be fine. See you later, Miss Pillsbury."
As he walked to class he heard his phone chirp, and pulled it up to check the message. It made his smile, for the first time that day.
From: David
To: Kurt
Anytime.
Weeks of tearing his former Glee mates to pieces when they approached him was finally paying off, Kurt noticed gratefully, as he managed to get through the rest of the day without interruptions. After the final bell he went straight to Miss Pillsbury's office.
She met him with a smile, and he relaxed a little. Surely she wouldn't smile like that had she failed.
"Kurt! Good news. Every one of your teachers agreed to let you be absent for the rest of the semester, meaning that as of now you're free to leave. Your diploma will be sent to you, at the address we have on file, and should you need anything else all you need to do is call me."
"Thank you, Miss Pillsbury. You have no idea how much this means to me. I really, really am grateful to you for doing this for me."
"It was the least I could do, really. And to be honest, we all appreciate that you asked. Most students would have called in sick, with how few days remain."
Kurt just nodded. He'd considered that option, but had discarded it almost as quickly. It would have been easier in some ways, sure, but in the end it would have led to more trouble.
"Well, that leaves me with only one thing to say. Good luck, Kurt. I really do wish you the best."
"Thank you."
As he was about to walk out the door he changed his mind, closed it again, and turned around. What he was about to do was petty, yes, but he was tired of trying to be the better person and getting trampled on as thanks.
"Miss Pillsbury? I was thinking... There is one more thing you could help me with, if it's not too much of a bother..."
"Of course not! I'd be happy to help, any way I can."
"In that case, do you think you could call Madame Thibedeaux, at NYADA, and explain the details regarding my transfer to Dalton to her?"
He saw her flinch a little, and her eyes went sad. He didn't like manipulating her like this, but it was the only way he could see.
"Yes, I can do that. Is it for a scholarship or something? I'll call her at once."
"Something like that. But, ehm, don't call now." Because that would put a wrench in his plans. He needed more time before that particular bomb went off. "Monday or Tuesday would be good, though any day next week will work."
She nodded, and Kurt bit back a triumphant evil grin.
Shots fired.
Finn wasn't home, as was his habit most days now, and Kurt relished in the peace and quiet. He was going to make the most of it, starting with a phone call – one he definitely didn't want anyone to overhear.
"Dad?"
"Kurt! I wasn't expecting a call now. Did something happen? Oh! Did you get your NYADA letter?"
His dad's voice went from worry to obvious excitement, and Kurt felt tears force themselves to the surface. This had been supposed to be a happy moment, damn it.
"Yeah. Yeah, you could say that. I didn't get in."
"What? Are they insane?" And there it was, the Burt Hummel Papa Bear fury (TM). It warmed Kurt's heart, even if it did nothing to erase the hurt he was feeling.
"I should probably tell you how you're not allowed to say that, but yeah, I kind of think they are. Rachel got in, after everything, and I didn't."
"What?"
"Yeah. Oh, and it gets better. Apparently, between stalking the dean and harassing her into attending Nationals, Rachel also took the time to sabotage me. Told Madame Thibedeaux a bunch of lies, got Mr Schuester to back her up, and voilá. One rejection letter, for one Kurt Hummel."
Saying it out loud hurt.
Telling his dad the whole sordid story, while trying to stay as calm and detached as possible, did nothing to ease that hurt. Hearing his dad threaten both Carmen Thibedeaux and Rachel, however, did.
"...and just you wait until I get my hands on that woman, I'll–"
Oh no.
"Dad, no. You can't."
"I can't? She can't, Kurt! You're telling me this lady screwed you over, based on lies, and I'm just supposed to shut up and accept that? No way, kiddo. No one pushes the Hummels around, okay, and I think it's time people start realizing that.
"Now, I might not be some fancy arts person, but I do have some connections, some leverage here, what with being a US senator and all."
"And that's exactly why you can't do anything, dad. Don't you get it?" Because yes, his dad did have some power, and yes, Burt Hummel was that ace in the sleeve that NYADA didn't expect Kurt to have. But, as his luck would have it, it wasn't a card he could play.
"Don't you see, if you do this, if you call NYADA and go all threatening parent on them, pulling rank? That could ruin you. No, listen to me, listen, dad! If you approach them as a US senator, demanding that they take another look at my application, claiming I was treated unfairly... They won't. In fact, I'm pretty sure they'll do the opposite, because really, that's the only option they will have. NYADA – hell, any college really – can't afford to get a reputation for accepting students based on how powerful their parents are."
"That's not what this is about, Kurt. You should have been accepted on your own merits, or didn't you just tell me Thibedeaux said as much? That you weren't, that's because she fucked up, and that has nothing to do with me."
"But that's what it'll look like to everyone else." Oh, he wished it wasn't that way, that he could just go along with what his dad wanted and let someone else shoulder the burden, but he couldn't. His dad was in a position to do some real good, and Kurt getting into college was not a good enough reason to risk that.
"The only way you calling will help is if Madame Thibedeaux admits to what she did, and honestly? That's not very likely. I'm pretty sure she's not allowed to let what amounts to gossip influence the admittance process, and that it's her position on the line if it gets out that she did.
"So it'll be her word against mine, and in my experience? That never goes well for me.
"And even if she does confess? Best case scenario has me getting admitted after all, sure, but also sharing classes with Rachel, because they won't be allowed to withdraw her acceptance." Because that much he'd learned from David. "And since this is Rachel, and my best case scenario has her getting on the dean's shit list? She's going to do her best to punish me, again, since there's no way she'll admit – even to herself – that she brought it on herself. The best way to do that, in Rachel's mind, is bound to be to make college as hellish as high school was.
"She'll tell everyone who wants to listen, and most of the ones who don't, that I got a rejection letter at first, and that I only got in after my dad, the senator, made a call. And it'll be true, in the strictest sense of the word, won't it? Plus, again, there's no way NYADA will want to risk their reputation, meaning the faculty will let her get away with spreading that, since correcting her will make them look bad.
"Not really looking forward to four years of that, dad. Besides, I'm not risking you. Having you as a senator, someone who is LGBT friendly and pro-arts, that's important. Especially from a district like this. NYADA is not worth losing that over."
The silence at the other end told Kurt his dad was thinking over what he'd said, instead of just reacting, and that was good. Every word had been true, after all.
"So now what? You give up on NYADA and do what instead? Because I know you didn't have a back-up plan," and the disapproval of that particular stupidity shone through.
"I want to leave. I know the plan was for me to stay here for the summer and work, but I just...I can't do that now. With what I know, I'll explode, or do something even more stupid. So, I've talked to the school, and as of an hour ago I don't have to attend classes anymore."
"Okay, that's, we can do that. I can arrange for a room for you, and–"
And oh he hadn't even considered that option. Talk about being blind. Stress and despair did that, he guessed.
"I wasn't planning on going to DC, dad. I was thinking I'd go stay with a friend, somewhere I can be left in peace." Somewhere no one will think to look for me.
"Who? I'm sorry, kiddo, but as far as I know all your friends are in Glee. Or did you keep in touch with one of those Dalton kids without me knowing?"
"No, and even if I had I wouldn't choose to stay with one of them. Not when I know they'd probably pick Blaine over me anyway, which would make that a no on the peace. I was thinking of David, actually."
He held his breath. His recent friendship with David was something his dad had been weary about the entire time, thanks to their past history as bully and victim, and chances were this would not go over well.
There was always the "I'm a legal adult" card, but it wasn't one he was eager to use.
"Karofsky? Huh. You two really are getting along better now, eh. Okay. Say I agree to this – and yes, I know I can't really stop you, but I do hope you'll listen to my opinion – what are we talking here?"
Kurt outlined the plan, or what little of one there was, and answered his dad's multiple questions with fingers crossed.
"Fine. I expect you to email me at least twice a week, and at least one actual conversation during the weekends. Put the plane ticket on the emergency card I gave you, and keep that with you. Leave the car in the airport and see if I can pick up the keys there. Otherwise just send them to me.
"Now, what are you – or we, I guess – telling Finn and Carole? And for that matter, where exactly was Finn during all of this?" And that was his dad's menacing voice.
"I wasn't going to tell them anything, though I'm okay with you telling Carole everything as long as she promises not to pas it on.
"As for Finn, well, he was" or so I really hope "staying out of it. Like I asked him to."
"He what? Dammit Kurt, he promised that he was done staying on the sidelines! You two are supposed to be brothers now, and–"
"And he's doing as I asked. Dad, this isn't exactly easy for him either. Rachel is his fiancée. They are getting married next week. Finn hasn't always been the best at being supportive when it comes to Rachel" or me "and I'm not going to act like it's a bad thing that he's finally gotten his act together regarding that. Besides, he is my brother, and he's going to stay my brother for the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.
"This, what's happening now? This'll blow over soon. Hell, considering it's Rachel, chances are his marriage will too. We have the time to fix this, and we will, once the dust settles. I'm just not going to mess things up right now, and I'm not going to let you make me feel guilty about that.
"Now, I'm sure you have a lot more to do today, and I have to pack. I'll call you when I get there, okay?"
"Okay. Let me know when you leave for the airport as well, and you know, that your plane takes off in one piece. Love you, kid."
"Love you too, dad."
That...went over better that I'd hoped.
Feeling relieved he went on to tackle the almost Herculean task of packing for the occasion. He'd only be able to bring one suitcase, and since he had no idea how long he'd end up staying that meant packing for all eventualities. That in turn meant making sure everything could be mixed and matched, and leaving his more 'out there' outfits behind.
The one thing he didn't pack for was cold weather, though he did pack up his winter clothing in a second suitcase. He had no idea where he'd be when winter arrived, or even fall, for that matter, but this way his dad could easily send him what he'd need. Or he could come visit, wherever, and bring it – or Kurt could visit in DC and pick it up there. In this, at least, he had options.
By the time Finn came home Kurt was in bed, packing all done, ticket ordered and nerves dialed up. This is really happening.
The next morning Kurt got up early, giving himself time to eat breakfast and get out of the house before Finn would wake up. That way there would be no way for the other boy to corner him or notice that something was off. It felt a little ridiculous, leaving at 7AM when he didn't need to be at the airport until 11, but he wasn't willing to risk staying.
Sooner or later one of the Gleeks would realize Kurt wasn't in school, and even if the teachers kept his leave of absence to themselves as requested, there would be questions. Someone might go looking for him – Finn, most likely, or maybe Blaine. And he was not subjecting himself to that.
The plan, the one he'd told his dad, had been for him to go straight to the airport and wait for his flight. There were, after all, enough places to wait comfortably with a coffee and a book or a movie. Instead he turned the other way.
Before leaving Ohio behind he had one last stop to make.
Parking at Dalton a sense of familiarity and nostalgia immediately overwhelmed him. There were so many memories connected to the place – and no matter how he'd felt about the uniforms and the conformity, he'd needed Dalton. It had given him a lot of happiness, in the end. Still... He shook it off – he wasn't there to indulge in that.
Getting inside was easy, as was finding his target. The Warblers still ate breakfast together, it seemed, as most of them were gathered at one long table – the same they'd used when Kurt had been one of them – in the dining hall. The look of shock on the other boy's face once he spotted Kurt was priceless, and Kurt soaked it up. (He might be there to do good, but that didn't mean he had to act like a saint.)
"Hummel? What are you doing here?"
I wanted to talk to you. In private, actually, so if we could..."
Walking away Sebastian kept up his jibes about getting Blaine for his own, no matter how prettily Kurt begged, but Kurt let it wash over him. He didn't have the energy to engage in such trivial, petty rivalry or for paying much attention to it. He just wanted to get this over and leave.
"So. You wanted to talk? Or was that a cover for tearing my clothes off and start worshiping my body? Because if it was, then sorry, I–"
"Just stop. I'm not here for that, or your so called witty remarks. I'm actually here to do you a favor."
That caught the meerkat's attention.
"I'm not sure if he told you, but Blaine and I are over. For good. If you really want to be with him, be my guest, go after him, but there are a couple of things I think you should know first."
Because no one deserved to be treated the way Blaine had treated him, and in a way also Jeremiah, not even Sebastian Smythe. Of course, if the smirky little meerkat were to choose it... Kurt still thought he should have all the facts first.
"He had his good sides, obviously, and I'm sure you're pretty aware of them. What you might not know about are the bad ones. He's a hypocrite, and has an unfortunate tendency to shame people for doing things he finds no problem with doing himself.
"If the two of you get together he's likely to bitch about your... Well, your history of having been free with your attention. He might have been okay with your flirting before, but if you're with him? No. He's going to expect you to be okay with him doing all the things you're not supposed to, though.
"Also, he can be really vindictive and impulsive. That's why I wanted to talk to you, really. There's a chance he'll blame you for me breaking up with him, because he'll want to blame someone, and if he does, he'll go after you. And he's got ammo, Sebastian.
"When the two of you were talking, before, you... You sent him a video."
He didn't specify what kind of video, and luckily he didn't have to. Sebastian's facial expression made it obvious he knew exactly what Kurt was talking about, and that he hadn't expected Kurt to know about it.
"I saw it. It's not what broke us up, but it didn't help. Let's say it...highlighted a few of Blaine's character flaws, shall we? The thing is, he has it saved on his computer – or at least he had a few weeks ago. Sebastian, it falls under the label of child pornography."
He paused for a bit, surprisingly worried about the other boy's white face.
"You didn't think he'd keep it, did you? Well, he did, and if he starts thinking that it had anything to do with our breakup, that you had something to do with it? I'm sorry, but he's more than a little unreliable right now. Chances are he'll make sure it goes viral.
"The same goes for if you start dating and you do something he disapproves of, I guess. I thought you should know, so you could do something about it if you wanted to."
Kurt stood up and straightened his clothes.
"That was it, really. Now it's up to you. But, if you do decide you want to try and get rid of that video? Talking to Blaine might not be the best approach. I'd recommend talking to Mrs Anderson. Not Mr Anderson, not unless you want to get in trouble. Good luck," and he started walking towards the door
"Hummel? Why are you doing this? I– I'm not ungrateful, I just don't get it."
At that moment Kurt saw something in Sebastian Smythe, for the first time, that didn't annoy him. It reminded him of how David had looked at the hospital, and it made his heart ache a little. He'd been so angry with Sebastian, had built him up as this villain in his head, and hadn't really let that go even after finding out how innocent Blaine hadn't been.
He'd forgotten that Sebastian was just a high school kid, like him, and was startled by the realization that the other boy most likely was younger than him. It only made him feel better about his decision to warn him. 'Criminal chipmunk' or not, this was just a teenage boy who'd made the same mistake that Kurt himself had made: wanting Blaine Anderson. Sure, they'd gone about it differently, but that didn't mean Kurt had been any smarter than Sebastian.
And the boy didn't deserve to have his future ruined by some stupid mistake. No one did.
Huh. Seemed his protective streak even included the meerkat these days. Surely this has to be a sign that the world's about to end.
"It's the right thing to do. I might not like you very much, but I wouldn't want anyone to risk something like that. Besides, the Sebastian that I saw after what happened to David Karofsky? He deserves a chance. I don't want to be someone who could have given him that, but didn't.
"Goodbye, Sebastian."
He left the quiet boy behind him, and saw himself out. A quick detour took him to Pavarotti's final resting place, for a last goodbye, before getting back in his car.
This was it. He tapped the message icon, chose his pre-written message of "Heading for the airport now" and watched as it flew off to its two recipients. Once that was done he turned his phone off and started driving.
He was done here. Kurt Hummel was getting out, heading towards a new future, and there was nothing holding him back.
The freedom felt amazing.
~The End ~