"Oh what about this one! It has a balcony," Rachel says excitedly, turning her laptop to show Kurt several images of a nice looking apartment in New York City.

"Rachel, that's way too expensive for us," Kurt says, a little annoyed. She's been shooting down all of his suggestions for one reason or another, but everything she suggests costs far too much money for the two of them to afford, even with a bit of help from Rachel's dads.

"My dads will help pay for it," Rachel says, predictably.

"With rent that high, it's more like we'd be helping your dads pay for it," Kurt counters.

"So?" she asks, pulling the laptop back to her side of the table. "They won't mind."

"I mind. I don't want to be living somewhere that your parents are paying for."

"Why not? If we pay for it ourselves we won't find somewhere nearly as nice."

"Maybe not, but at least it will be ours," Kurt insists.

"Fine, whatever," she grumbles, but she doesn't argue any more.

They sit in silence for a long while, each scrolling through apartment listings on their laptops.

"What about this one?" Kurt asks, spinning his laptop around and flipping through some photos of a modest 3-bedroom apartment. "There's a couple that rents one room already, so we would have roommates, but they'll still split the rent four ways so we'll get a good deal."

Rachel pulls the laptop closer and flips through some of the photos herself. Her brow furrows.

"I don't know, Kurt. I'm not sure how I feel about sharing an apartment with someone we don't know."

"Well we're going to have to compromise on something. I don't love the idea either, but we're not going to able to afford an apartment with everything else you want by ourselves."

She stares at the screen a while longer, contemplating, before finally, "Fine, but I want the bigger bedroom."

"Deal," Kurt agrees. The smaller bedroom has a larger closet anyway.

Kurt makes his way around the room, collecting the paper plates strewn about the Hummel-Hudson living room. The last of his and Finn's friends have just trickled out from their grad party, and he doesn't want to go to bed with the house still looking like a disaster. He piles another plate precariously on top of the pile he's carrying.

"Kurt, really, you can leave all that," Carole says, walking into the room and giving him a small smile.

"I just don't want to have to deal with it in the morning," Kurt replies, not stopping to look at her as he adds another plate to the pile.

"Kurt, honey, it was your party, you don't need to clean up. We'll take care of it." She makes her way over to him and takes the stack of plates from his arms. "Go to bed."

"Fine," he says with a sigh, "thanks, Carole."

"Goodnight, sweetie," she says, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He makes his way to his room, strips down to his underwear then slips into his pajamas. He turns back the blankets on his perfectly made bed, slides under them, and sits up against his head board, head propped back, and stares at the ceiling. He didn't really care all that much about getting the cleaning done; he knows whatever he didn't do, Carole would take care of before he was up the next morning. He just doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts right now. The party had been great, he loved being around his friends, and they almost made him forget about all of the shit going on in his life that he, well, wanted to forget about. But in their absence, everything is just clearer, harder. He'd have Rachel in New York, but that was it. He should have had Blaine; he was always supposed to have Blaine in New York. But that was ruined and broken and it hurts his heart to think about it. He pulls his knees up to his chin, hugging them and rocking slightly on the bed. Why is this so hard? He's still going to New York. He didn't get into NYADA, but he did get into Parsons, and maybe it's for the best that he won't have to see Blaine everywhere at school but, god, for as much as he should just be over this by now he is still so not over it.

It's like he can't breathe, the weight of rejection after rejection is suffocating and all he wants to do is talk to him. He grabs his phone from the bedside table, unlocks it and scrolls to Blaine's contact, hovering over the call button. But he can't. He can't call Blaine anymore, Blaine isn't his. He talked to Blaine once, on the phone the week after they'd broken up, and Kurt stayed firm that he was done. Blaine tried after that, for a while, to convince Kurt to take him back, but Kurt ignored every call and text. So he couldn't call Blaine now. Instead he scrolls a bit further, to Chandler's name, and hits the call button.

A couple rings later, and Chandler's sleepy voice is on the other side of the line. "Kurt, hi."

Shit. Of course he was already in bed asleep.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't- I'll hang up, you can go back to sleep."

"No, that's- is everything okay?" Chandler sounds a little more alert now, concerned.

"Yeah, it um... it's fine," he says, but he know he doesn't sound sincere. And Chandler notices.

"What's wrong, Kurt?"

Kurt sighs. Chandler has always been good to talk to. Maybe this will help. "Just... everything."

He can practically hear the confused frown in Chandler's voice. "What do you mean by everything?"

"First Blaine, and then NYADA, and I just feel like... like a failure. Like nobody wants me." Normally he's not able to be this open, this vulnerable with someone. But this is Chandler, and there's just something about the darkness that the night brings that makes it easier to say the things you can't bring yourself to say in the light of day. "I always thought that once I could just get out of here, this stupid place, that things would be okay, but I just... don't feel like that anymore. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Chandler insists. "You're not a failure. I can't believe you would ever think that. Not that you're stupid for thinking that, I just mean that, like, Kurt, you're so great. You are one of the kindest and bravest and most talented people I know, just, the fact that you could even think that nobody would want you, the idea is just so... ridiculous. Have you seen yourself, Kurt? Like, do you even see who you are?"

"That's nice of you to say, Chandler, but reality seems to contradict you."

"Kurt... can I be honest with you?"

"Yeah," Kurt says, straightening up a little. Chandler isn't usually asking to be honest, so this can't be good.

"Don't take this the wrong way, please don't, because I don't mean it in a bad way, at all, it's nothing to do with you, so I really don't-"

"Chandler," Kurt interrupts softly, "just say it."

"Okay." Kurt hears a deep inhale on the other end of the line before Chandler continues. "I think you're taking NYADA too seriously. Just because they didn't accept you doesn't mean you're not incredibly talented. They're just, like, really picky, and that's why I applied to so many places. Not getting in doesn't mean you're bad. And besides, you got into Parsons, and I really think that you would like that better anyway. Fashion is your thing Kurt, and I know you think performing is too, and you are amazing at it, but... I don't think it's you."

A heavy silence hangs in the air between them. This is new. Chandler was the one to suggest fashion and Parsons, sure, but he'd never come out and said that Kurt shouldn't be a performer. Never even implied it, really. He's not sure what to make of it.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I just think that... oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but um... are you sure you don't mind?"

"Mind what, Chandler?"

"I just... I don't want... Never mind," he says anxiously.

"No, just... tell me. It's fine."

Chandler is silent for a few moments, the only sound Kurt can hear is their breathing, until finally he speaks again. "I um... You're really great, Kurt, honestly, but it's just that... Performing always seemed like Blaine's thing. Or Rachel's. Or Mercedes, even, maybe not musical theatre for her, but music for sure. And you are good, so good at it, too, but it just never seemed like... you."

"Of course it's me," Kurt argues defensively, because where is this coming from? Everything he is, everything he has built himself around since he started high school, since he joined the Glee club, has been performing. Without that, who is he?

Chandler takes in another deep breath. "I just think that maybe, you know, you think that's what you want because everyone around you wants that, and you want to fit in with them. And I mean, Blaine and Rachel are both really kind of pushy, no offense, and I think that maybe it was just... easier?"

"I don't want to be a performer because it's easy, if that's what you're saying," he says, narrowing his eyes reflexively despite Chandler being several miles away.

"No, no, of course not!" Chandler sputters out quickly. "Gosh, I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. That's not what I mean. Um, of course not, it's hard, you put a lot of work in and I think that's really really admirable, and you could totally be a performer, I don't mean you couldn't. You would be so great! But it's just that I think maybe because you're always surrounded by people who want to be performers that it seems like that's the right thing? Like that's what you should do? But you don't have to do that if you don't want, you know? Like you could do fashion and you'd be amazing at it, and I remember you telling me about doing fashion shows with your mom's clothes as a kid and just, from everything you've told me it just seems like music and performing is so much newer but clothes and fashion have always been there, you know? Does that make any sense? Gosh, I'm sorry, I'm just... I'll shut up."

Kurt takes a moment to process the things Chandler is saying. He does love performing, but is Chandler right? Is it really him, or does he just think it's him? Does he even know himself? And Chandler is right, fashion has always been there, and even now it's still there, still just as important to him as ever. One of his top priorities for his NYADA audition was the gold lamé pants, for god's sake. When he really thinks about it, he could see himself doing fashion in the future. Forever. He could imagine himself in an office with a notebook, sketching out new designs. And the thought makes him happy. When he'd thought of performing, he always thought of himself as being happy, but he also thought of himself as being happy with Blaine or with Rachel, not just with himself. But with fashion, he can... sort of see that. And it's like a switch has been flipped.

"How long have you thought this?"

"Um... a while?" Chandler sound apologetic. "I just didn't want to... well, you know..."

Kurt's brow furrows. "Didn't want to what?"

Chandler is quiet for a moment before he's speaking again, quickly, as though he needs to rush to get all the words out before he changes his mind. "Well it's just that, you had it in your head that you were going to NYADA with Blaine and you were going to be happy there together with him and I knew that if I said something to you about it then you would argue with me and you'd tell Blaine and Blaine would hate me more and he already didn't like me and honestly I didn't really like him that much either, I mean he was okay but he was a jerk to me and he was kind of a jerk to you, too, Kurt, but of course I would never say that to you except now I'm saying it to you and oh gosh what am I doing."

Kurt's head thumps back against the headboard and he stares back up at the ceiling. That is... a lot to take in. Chandler has never said a word about not liking Blaine; if anything, Chandler was the most supportive of their relationship of all his friends. Nothing is making sense.

"You didn't... I don't understand. You never said anything before."

"Well of course I didn't, I mean, you're my friend, Kurt, and I wanted you to be able to talk to me, and I knew that if I said that you wouldn't feel like you could talk to me anymore, and I felt like you needed someone to talk to, you know? And I mean it's not like you would have listened to me anyway if I said something, you're very stubborn so you probably would have just gotten mad at me and left and then not talked to me about it anymore and I just like talking to you."

Kurt actually laughs. "Yeah, you're probably right. I just... I wasn't expecting this, I guess."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, of course not," Kurt reassures him, "it's just... a lot to think about."

There's a silence between them again, but this time it's not heavy or awkward, it's comfortable.

"I think I might try to get some sleep," Kurt says quietly.

"Right, yeah of course, it's late, that's a good idea."

"Thank you. For talking to me tonight."

"Of course! You can call me any time. That's what friends are for, right?" Chandler asks, some of the cheer back in his voice.

"Yeah. That's what friends are for," Kurt agrees.