Brittany cocked her head to the side. "What's Marie's Crisis?" she asked. "Is that like somewhere you go to have a mental breakdown? Because my doctor said that I don't need to go somewhere for that. It can all happen up here." She tapped her temple, grinning at her friend.

Kurt opened his mouth to reply to his friend's oddball comment but stopped when he saw the look on Santana's face. They'd barely known one another for an hour, and already there was this look of love and devotion in her eyes as she took in her soulmate. There was also confusion and concern for her, but the love shown through more, making Kurt let out a little, "Aww…" at the sight. I hope I can find my soulmate while I'm here!

"Um, Britt," Santana said, shaking her head to clear out whatever cobwebs had formed at hearing Brittany's suggestion, "we're going to talk about finding you a new doctor later, baby. But for now, no. Marie's isn't a mental hospital. It's a dive bar and a fricking cool one at that." She looked at Kurt, explaining, "I'm a born and bred New Yorker, and I've been to Marie's a few times. It really is as awesome as they say. You have to be into Disney and Broadway, but that's not a problem for me." She shrugged. "That's part of why I love this festival. There's every type of music represented here, and everyone who comes loves it. I've come every year since it was started."

"Oh, that's my dream," Kurt breathed out, getting all starry-eyed at the thought of being able to attend the festival another year. "I'd love that." He sighed, letting his imagination run away with him for a minute. Then, he straightened up. "Anyway, I've heard Marie's is great, and I'd love to go. Do you wanna tag along?"

"More than anything," Santana assured him, pulling Brittany into a side-hug. "How do you want to get there? It's kind of a long walk from here; would take us almost an hour. Uber or Lyft will get us there in about 15 minutes, though."

"Um," Kurt stuttered, wanting to say what he wanted but afraid the true-blood New Yorker would think him crazy, "I, uh-I know it's expensive, but I'd love to take a cab? My goal was to experience everything New York had to offer, and you always hear about New York cabbies, so-"

"Say no more," Santana told him, holding up a hand. "New York cabbies are infamous for a reason; you should definitely have at least one cab experience in your life. Let's go find one." She grabbed Brittany by the hand and led her out of the concert area, the blonde babbling in her ear the whole time.

Kurt trailed behind them, watching the two girls fondly. They really are perfect for one another, he thought. San just took Britt's crazy in stride without question. I really like her. I think we might be pretty good friends.

It didn't take them long to get out of the concert area, and they walked down the street to get to a busier part of town. "There will be more cabs down here," Santana explained as they walked, her tall heels click-clacking loudly on the pavement as she strode.

It didn't take them long to find a waiting cab, and they slid in, Brittany in the middle, Kurt and San on either side of her.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked. He sounded bored, and Kurt assumed he probably was. He had to have asked that question a million times already that day, and there was probably little surprise anymore in anyone's answers.

"Marie's Crisis," Santana said. "My friends have never been before."

"We're soulmates," Brittany piped up, wrapping Santana's arm around her shoulders and leaning into the other girl's side. "We just met at a concert, and now we're going on our first date."

"That so?" the cabbie asked dryly. "Congrats."

"Thanks!" Brittany bounced a little, oblivious to the cabbie's evident sarcasm.

Kurt watched out the window as the cabbie expertly guided them through town. There was so much to look at; New York was such a busy place, and he didn't think he'd ever tire of looking around. There was never a dull moment. The streets, even at almost 10:30 p.m., were still crowded, people bustling about here and there, women in their heels and expensive dresses, men in their suits with the expensive briefcases. Everyone looked important and like they were on a mission.

When they pulled up outside the bar, Kurt was struck by how different the bar looked than he'd imagined. The sign with the bar's name was written in an Old English script, and there were a few red and white striped awnings on the building, one over the door and one over a large window on the next story. The door was wooden with nine glass panels on the top. The whole thing looked very out of place in an up-to-date city, and Kurt was struck by the fact that, had he not known better, he would have thought they were approaching a building at one of those cheesy Renaissance festivals where everyone dressed in old-fashioned clothes and pretended not to know what a toilet or cell phone was.

"Thanks," San told the cabbie, passing him some money before following Brittany out of the cab door, coming to stand next to Kurt on the sidewalk. He was looking up at the building, just taking it all in, and she nudged him lightly. "What do you think?"

Before he'd had a chance to answer, Brittany butted in.

"Why did no one tell me we were going to the circus? I would have brought my stilts so I could be the tallest woman there!" She pouted at Santana, waiting for a response.

The dark-haired girl reached out a soothing hand, running it up and down her soulmate's arm for a moment before leaning over to whisper to Kurt, "I love her already, so it really doesn't matter… But is she always like this?"

Kurt didn't say anything, just nodded his head.

"Are you ready to go in?" Even on the sidewalk, they could hear distinctly that the bar was very crowded. The wooden front door was propped open, and the sounds of someone playing A Whole New World from Aladdin could be heard. The whole bar had to have been singing at the top of their lungs because the three of them could hear every word clearly, just as the passers-by could as they went on their way.

Thankfully, there was no line to get in as Kurt had feared on their way there, but they soon saw that there likely should have been. When they finally managed to push their way into the bar, there was almost nowhere to go. There were bodies pressed together through the entire space, shoulder to shoulder, and everyone was singing at the top of their lungs.

"Oh, my God!" Brittany shouted to be heard over the din of singing and piano playing. "Why hasn't anyone told these people to find their seats so the circus can start? They're all standing in the ring, and there's no room for the elephants!"

Santana just shook her head at her soulmate, wrapping an arm even tighter around her, and pushing her way through the crowd in the direction of the bar, Kurt following along behind them.

Kurt realized, as he followed along behind the two girls, that there was far more to Santana than what originally met the eye. She was a beautiful Latina woman, and the way she wore her hair long and straight coupled with a deep red lipstick on her lips only enhanced her beauty. More than that, though, she had an attitude that Kurt immediately admired. She was a little bit diva, a little bit crazy, and a lot confident, moving people aside with the flick of her wrist and a shake of her head. That is exactly what Brittany needs, Kurt thought to himself. Good job, Fate. Not that I ever doubted you.

Somehow, Santana was able to get them a spot at the bar, and she called the bartender over with a few quick snaps. "I'll take a scotch on the rocks," she informed him. "My friend here will have a small glass of red wine," she said, gesturing to Brittany, pecking her on the lips when Britt cheered at the news, "and I'll get whatever he's having, too," she said, pointing to Kurt.

The bartender nodded, moving down the bar to hear Kurt better. "For you?" he asked.

"Um, I will just have a Diet Coke, please," Kurt said. He didn't want to spend too much of Santana's money, and he wasn't really that big of an alcohol fan. It had never tasted great anyway.

"Is that really what you wanted?" Santana asked him when the bartender walked away to get their drinks. "You could have gotten something else. I don't mind."

Kurt shrugged. "It's fine. I never really liked alcohol."

"Suit yourself," San told him, turning back to Eskimo kiss with Brittany, a huge grin on her face. It was clear to anyone who glanced at the two girls that they were delighted to have found one another.

Rather than watch the girls giggling together, Kurt spent his time looking around the bar, taking in the decor and the atmosphere of the place. He really loved that the interior was done up as an homage to the things that had happened in the building before it had become a bar: the death of Thomas Payne, the writer of Common Sense, and the building's identity as a prostitution den. The decor reflected the French revolution theme that had helped to shape its past, and Kurt was enamored with it.

Besides all of that, there was plenty of Broadway stuff to look at-not to mention listen to-a secret passion of his. Spaced out every so often around the walls were framed photos of people but with so many bodies between himself and the portraits, he couldn't make out who each portrait depicted. There were gay pride flags running around the interior of the place, hung on a little string and draped just below the ceiling, and behind the bar was a giant mirror that was decorated with likenesses of old-fashioned soldiers ready for war and women waving them off, their handkerchiefs fluttering.

To Kurt's left, there was another bar area with a million people standing around it, many of them leaning casually against it. The bar area created a square with the bar on three sides and a wall on the fourth. In the middle was the piano where a man sat, the same man that had played piano at the concert he'd just attended. The man was currently leading the crowd through Sincerely Me from Dear Evan Hansen, and everyone was singing at the top of their lungs.

Across the room from where Kurt was currently sat, there was a small stage. It wasn't set up for a gig, but there were balloons dangling from the ceiling and more pictures that Kurt couldn't see. People were currently milling around on the stage as well. It apparently doubled as extra seating for the bar when Marie's was hopping like it was that night.

"Here's your Diet Coke, sir," the bartender told him, setting down an icy cold glass next to him. "Enjoy."

"Thanks," Kurt murmured, picking up the drink and taking a long sip through the straw. Boy, that really hit the spot. He quickly realized just how thirsty he was, and he slurped down the entire thing in a few gulps, setting the glass back down with a thump and a satisfied sigh. He began to sing along as the pianist switched to Mama Mia, everyone in the bar clapping and singing along.

It was fun, and Kurt was happy to people watch, glancing every once in a while in the direction of the two girls he'd come with, just to be sure they hadn't disappeared on him. Mostly, however, he just enjoyed the environment, reveling in the fact that for the first time in a very long time, he felt like he belonged exactly where he was. He could picture it, coming out to this bar every Saturday night to enjoy show tunes and fellowship with people who were like him, fellow music lovers, Broadway enthusiasts, and, very likely, gay. He could see it, and the idea excited him. Maybe New York was going to be the place that finally changed him into the person he'd always wanted to be.

It wasn't that he'd had a bad life. No. He had grown up as the only gay kid in the middle of Ohio, but his life hadn't been horrible. Yes, he'd been bullied. Yes, he'd been left out of school activities, teased, and banned from his junior prom for trying to bring a boy as his date. Yes, he'd lost his father at an early age and had been raised by a single mother, but that didn't make his life a tragedy as so many believed. It just made him human.

So, it wasn't that he was unhappy in his life. It was just that he wasn't entirely pleased. He'd wanted more, but he'd had duties at home that had required him to stay. Well, required was a strong word. His mother hadn't required anything. He's just felt like he needed to stay so she wasn't lonely. Now that she had a new boyfriend, a really good man who took care of her the way she needed and wanted, who might even be her new soulmate, he was feeling like he might be able to follow his own path, become who he wanted to be.

He let himself daydream for a little while, imagining what his apartment might look like, what job he might get, where he might go to school. He was suddenly broken out of his imaginings, however, when he spotted a mop of dark curls moving through the crowd. Blaine Anderson. Kurt would recognize that hair anywhere, and if that made him a bit of a stalker, well, he'd own that. He watched him walk across the room for a moment, taking in the slight droop of his shoulders beneath his trademark leather jacket, the bright pink sunglasses that had been the other piece of his iconic style since his high school days. My land is he perfect… Kurt thought dreamily to himself. I wish I could talk to him, introduce myself. I'd love to stand by him for just a minute. I'm sure I'd be as tongue-tied as any other fan he's ever met, but I'd love it regardless…

No sooner had he thought that, however, than he lost Blaine in the crowd. Damn his little five-foot-seven frame… he thought, turning back to the bar to find that the bartender had refilled his soda glass.

Kurt took a few drinks from it, watching the crowd around the piano move in closer as the bar continued to fill up. The pianist was playing a ballad from Wicked: For Good, one of Kurt's favorite songs. He sang along with everyone, and as the final notes were sounding, he realized he needed to use the restroom. "Girls?" he said, leaning over and tapping Brittany on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I'm running off to the bathroom. Don't leave without me, please."

"Kay," Brittany agreed, going back to whatever she'd been doing to Santana's ear.

"Thanks," Kurt replied, hopping off his stool and trying to make his way through the crowd back to the far corner where he'd seen the restroom signs. He kept getting jostled and bumped, no one really paying attention to anyone but themselves. Holy crap. Too many people! Kurt thought. Am I ever going to make it back there?