BLAINE AT MCKINLEY! BLAINE AT MCKINLEY! IT'S CONFIRMED! NO MORE UNIFORM! NO MORE UNIFORM! BLAINE AT MCKINLEY! MOVE OVER, FINN HUDSON! BLAINE FREAKING ANDERSON IS TAKING OVER NEW DIRECTIONS! AND KLAINE ISN'T BREAKING UP! BUT THEY WILL HAVE PROBLEMS! BLAINE AT MCKINLEY! NO MORE UNIFORM!
Anyway...
So I just rewatched "Funeral" (makes me cry every time) and I HATE the part where Jesse St. Douchebag... I mean James... tears Kurt down for singing a girl's song, even though he totally killed it. And I wasn't too fond of the way Mr. Schue didn't really stop Jesse from insulting Santana, Kurt, or Mercedes (especially my boy, Kurt). Which got me thinking - what if Kurt had someone (namely his boyfriend) there to defend him? And, since I have yet to go to bed (my mom's gonna kill me, so if I disappear y'all know what happened haha), this is what my semi-delusional mind came up with.
I should warn you - it's AU. Don't like AU? Don't read this. Simple as that :) Also, major Jesse-bashing. I hate him so much it's not even funny
So here's Chapter Twenty-Five: Audition
"Okay, I'm still a little confused," Jesse St. James said to Mr. Schuester. "Who is he again? I mean, does he even go to McKinley?" I sighed. We'd only gone over this five times. You'd think he would've gotten it by now. Kurt was right - this guy was an idiot.
"For the last time, Jesse. His name is Blaine Anderson and, no, he doesn't go to McKinley. He goes to Dalton Academy over in Westerville," Mr. Schue explained, sounding as annoyed with the guy as I felt. Seriously, he made me want to bang my head against the table in front of me. "And, before you ask," he continued when Jesse opened his mouth. "He's here because I asked him to be. I figured three opinions were better than two. Besides, Blaine knows a thing or two about what it takes to be the star of a glee club." Yeah, but only because two thirds of the Warbler Council were my best friends.
Jesse turned to me. "Do you have any personal connections to any of those who are trying out?"
Well, obviously I did, but I didn't think I needed to tell him that. "Do you?" I countered, knowing his history with Rachel.
He hesitated and I inwardly smiled at having tripped him up. "I asked you first," he siad finally.
I rolled my eyes. "If you must know, yes, I do. Kurt's my boyfriend."
Jesse looked at me for a minute longer before turning back to Mr. Schue. "I hardly think this is fair, Mr. Schuester. How do we know he's not just going to pick Kurt?"
"Because I, unlike you, can put aside my feelings and judge on pure talent. Yeah," I added when he gave me a look. "I know all about you and Rachel. And it sounds like you seem to think that she's the only one in this glee club with any talent."
"I'm nothing if not honest."
"We'll see," I said.
"Whatever." He turned his back on me and said into the microphone, "We're ready for the first contestant," as if he were a judge on a reality show. Then again, he did that class... I literally had to hold back laughter of the absurdity of the thought.
"My name is Santana Lopez and I will be singing Amy Winehouse's 'Back to Black'." I smiled because I knew that Santana would kill the song. Most people didn't have the voice to pull off Amy Winehouse. But, then again, most people weren't Santana Lopez.
He left no time to regret
Kept his lips wet
With his same old safe bet
Me and my head high
And my tears dry
Get on without my guy
And I tread a troubled track
My odds are stacked
I'll go back to black
She finished the song and I applauded her, earning me another look from Mr. I'm-better-than-you St. James. I ignored him. "That was great, Santana," I complimented her.
She seemed shocked to hear my voice, but then smiled. "Oh, hey, hobbit!" I groaned at the nickname. Yes, I was short - could we just drop it already? "I didn't know you were gonna be here."
Mr. Schue brought us back to why we were there in the first place by saying, "Fantastic, Santana."
Next to me, Jesse mumbled something so low that I couldn't make it out, though I'm sure it was less than kind. "Thanks so much for coming in," was all he said. I wanted to hit him. Was that really all he had to say?
Santana seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Wait. That - that's all you have to say? You spent the entire performance scribbling notes." I looked over at the notepad in front of Jesse. There was a drawing of a cat on the page. Oh, God, this guy was going to give me a headache.
"Well, if you must know, I was simply writing down that I don't think your performance went very deep into the emotional truth of the song."
"Oh, is that so?" she asked and I could tell she was starting to get pissed off. "Well, I happen to have some feedback for you." I opened my mouth to intervene before Santana went off on him, but Mr. Schue beat me to the punch.
"Thanks, Santana. That - that's all we'll need," he said quickly.
"I am about to go all Lima Heights," Santana said, as if Mr. Schue hadn't spoken at all.
"Okay. Thank you," Mr. Schue said as Santana stormed off stage.
"Do you not have ears?" I demanded of Jesse.
"Excuse me?" he said, feigning innocence.
"You heard me. Santana was amazing down there and you're going to sit there and tell me that you didn't think so?"
"Exactly," he answered. "Like I said. I tell it like it is. Even if it's not what the person wants to hear."
"No, I think Blaine has a point, Jesse. Constructive criticism is one thing, but I don't want you making the kids feel like they're worthless."
"I thought the whole point is to win, not make everyone feel special. Trust me, Mr. Schue, they'll never get anywhere in life unless they understand that not everyone is going to handle them with kids gloves." He glared at me when he said that. Under the table, my hands balled into fists and I swear to God I would have punched him had Kurt not walked on stage.
"Hello, I'm Kurt Hummel and I'll be singing 'Some People' from Gypsy."
"Ah, great selection, Kurt. Hit it."
He caught my eye and I smiled and mouthed 'good luck' before he turned around. I glanced over at Jesse and smirked at him, having way too much fun torturing him. Oh, God. I was turning into Wes and David. Someone please kill me now.
Jesse was about to say something, but I shushed him as Kurt started to sing. Kurt singing was one of my favorite sounds in the whole world and no one - especially Jesse St. James - was going to ruin that for me.
Some people can get a thrill
Knitting sweaters and sitting still.
That's okay for some people
Who don't know they're alive.
Some people can thrive and bloom
Living life in the living room.
That's perfect for some people
Of one hundred and five.
But I at least gotta try
When I think of all the sights that I gotta see
And all the places I gotta play,
All the things that I gotta be at.
Come on, papa, what do you say?
Some people can be content
Playing bingo and paying rent.
That's peachy for some people,
For some hum-drum people to be,
But some people ain't me!
I had a dream, a wonderful dream, papa
Goodbye to blueberry pie.
Good riddance to all the socials I had to go to,
All the lodges I had to play,
All the shriners I said hello to.
Hey, L.A., I'm comin' your way!
Some people sit on their butts;
Got the dream, yeah, but not the guts.
That's living for some people,
For some hum-drum people I suppose.
Well, they can stay and rot!
But not Rose!
He finished and I clapped extra loud, just to annoy Jesse. I didn't know any other guy in the world who could sing a Broadway classic - let alone a girl's song - quite the way Kurt did. It was magical and mind-blowing and... amazing. Kurt Hummel was one-of-a-kind amazing.
"All right," Mr. Schue said. "Good job, buddy." Good job didn't even begin to describe Kurt's performance.
But leave it to Jesse to completely obliterate such a magical moment. "Kurt, you do know that song was meant to be sung by a woman, right?" Really? Because the fact that it says Rose isn't a dead giveaway. I bet Jesse was just jealous because he wasn't as good as Kurt. Granted, I'd never heard him before, but no one was as good as Kurt.
"Yes, I'm aware," he said, slipping to Diva (or as Mercedes liked to call it sometimes, Bitchy) Kurt Mode. "And the glee club sort of dealt with that whole 'boys singing songs that were meant for girls'." Beside me, Jesse softly said "Oh" as if he actually cared what Kurt was saying. My fists balled tighter under the table, and I had to remind myself that punching Jesse in the face - while satisfying - probably wouldn't do a whole lot of good in the long run. "It's kind of old news."
Jesse wasn't relenting and the urge to punch his face off was becoming increasingly harder to resist. "Then you must know that that song was done to great fanfare by such Broadway legends as Merman, LuPone, Bernadette..." You didn't have to school Kurt on the history of who played which role on Broadway - he knew those things backwards and forwards. "Those are some awfully big heels to fill and I'm not quite sure that you nailed it." Okay, yeah. This guy was 100%, without a shadow of a doubt deaf. Then again, Kurt wasn't Rachel, so Jesse most likely hadn't even been paying attention.
I could tell when Kurt was getting upset, even if he wouldn't openly show it. To try to diffuse the situation, I said, "Kurt, don't listen to him. You were amazing. Probably one of the best performances you've ever given." Well, besides 'Blackbird', but that was sort of in a league of its own. "And I'm not just saying that," I added quickly so Mr. Schue didn't think that I was playing favorites. But when I glanced over, he smiled and nodded, in total agreement with me.
"Thanks, Blaine. Mr. Schue." He glared at Jesse before storming off the stage.
I turned to Jesse, almost as angry as I had been at the Night of Neglect when I'd shoved Karofsky. "Where do you get off?"
"I told you that your bias would affect your abililty to judge this competition," he stated calmly in a tone that suggested he was superior to me. But I didn't care that he was the former star of Vocal Adrenaline or had won four national championships. Right now, he was just a douchebag who'd hurt my Kurt and I was going to let him have it.
"Oh, I'm biased?" I scoffed. "Were you even listening to Kurt or Santana?"
"Of course I was," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Oh, really?" I said skeptically. "What songs did they sing, then?"
"Santana did Amy Winehouse and Kurt did a Broadway song."
"That's not really an answer, St. James," I practically spat at him.
"Okay, calm down, guys," Mr. Schue said from the other side of Jesse. I glared at Jesse until he slumped back in his chair with a huff, defeated. I then stood and grabbed my bag from the ground, slinging it over my shoulder.
"Mr. Schue, thank you for asking me to do this, but I have to go. I didn't think it would be quite this... difficult."
He nodded. "I understand. I think Jesse and I can handle it from here." Yeah, good luck with that.
I turned and made my way out of the auditorium. I started walking towards where I thought the choir room was. But before I got there, I saw Kurt coming out of a bathroom, dressed in a different outfit. He didn't see me, so I called his name. He turned around at the sound of my voice and stopped so I could catch up to him. "So um..." I started to say, but the words wouldn't come. I wasn't the most eloquent of people and tended to say the wrong thing.
"Jesse St. James totally Jesse St. Sucks," Kurt complained, sparing me the hassle of trying to think of something to say. "Who does he think he is, telling me that I can't sing girls' songs? I make my living singing girls' songs." He was getting really worked up so I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him close to me.
"Ssh, calm down," I murmured in his ear. "Jesse St. James is a douchebag." He giggled slightly because I never swore. "He doesn't know anything about you, Kurt. Because if he did, you'd win in a heartbeat."
"You really mean that?" His voice was thick with tears and I smiled at how sensitive and emotional he was. With Kurt, there was no guesswork. What you saw was what you got and I greatly admired him for that.
"Of course I do. Jesse St. James is just a guy who hates himself so much that he has to tear other people down to make himself feel good. Nothing he says matters, so don't listen to him, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed, pressing his forehead to mine. "Scale of one to ten?" he asked softly, playing the game we'd made up to rate each other's performances.
"Ten," I said, same as always.
"You always say that," he pointed out with a laugh.
"It's always true," I replied, closing the distance between us.
We stood there, kissing, for what seemed like forever until we heard shouting coming from the auditorium (shocking since we were kind of far away from it). Kurt pulled away. "Mercedes," he saif with a laugh. "Wanna go watch her chew out Jesse?"
"Of course."
STUPID, STUPID GODDAMN ENDINGS! They make me want to shoot people (Jesse St. James is a good target). But other than that, I liked this one :)
I apologize to any Jesse fans out there - I love Jonathan's voice (I have all Vocal Adrenaline songs from Season One on my iPod, as well as Hello and Rolling in the Deep) but Jesse St. James makes me want to shoot small children.
And, once again, in case you didn't catch it:
BLAINE AT MCKINLEY! BLAINE AT MCKINLEY! IT'S CONFIRMED! NO MORE UNIFORM! NO MORE UNIFORM! BLAINE AT MCKINLEY! MOVE OVER, FINN HUDSON! BLAINE FREAKING ANDERSON IS TAKING OVER NEW DIRECTIONS! AND KLAINE ISN'T BREAKING UP! BUT THEY WILL HAVE PROBLEMS! BLAINE AT MCKINLEY! NO MORE UNIFORM!
Sorry, this excites me (especially the NO UNIFORM part).
Review!