A/N: Thanks to all those who have hung in there with this story. And thank you so much for the reviews, makes my week!
Finn was on the phone listening to Rachel explain the current drama in New York, "Funny Girl is on hold for now, Rupert Campion was directing it, he's had a heart attack…"
Finn wasn't sure what to say to that, "Hope he's okay."
"How very Bob Fosse of him!" Rachel remarked, "it's been pushed back at least six months."
"Sorry to hear that."
"It's so frustrating," Rachel fumed, "I've been practicing night and day, and brushing up on my acting, I've been taking extension classes…"
Finn was determined to find the silver lining, "It'll give you a chance to concentrate on school. This way, you'll be more prepared when the audition happens for real."
But Rachel was having none of it, "Nothing compares to Funny Girl, now everything's just torture by comparison."
Forever dramatic. But he did know what she meant.
"I was so ready to do it, now it just feels like my life is on hold!"
"Well, is there anything else coming up in the mean time?" He wondered aloud.
"Chicago," Rachel said, somewhat excited, "it's been announced, open call in two weeks' time."
"Awesome," Finn reminded her, "you've always wanted to play Roxie."
"Yeah, I've already registered for an audition online."
"Is it still open?"
"Yeah, for a few more days, I think…" Rachel picked up on his sudden interest, "are you thinking of…" But she trailed off sadly.
"No, I can't… contract…" Was all he said by way of explanation.
"Oh," Rachel said as his meaning became clear. "You want to know for her."
Finn didn't see the point of tip toeing around it now, "Velma is a good fit for Santana."
Rachel was silent on the other end.
"Maybe we'll both come to New York for a few days."
"I'd really like to see you," Rachel admitted.
"It would be nice."
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"What would you say to spending three nights in New York."
Santana looked suspicious, "And why would we up and do that?"
They were side by side on Mercedes' couch and Finn couldn't wait to tell her what he'd done.
"Because, Chicago is about to have a revival on Broadway."
"Sounds good," Santana barely reacted to the news, "I've never seen a live show before, I'd love to go."
"No, San, you don't get it, it's not on Broadway yet, they are about to start casting it."
He could see the wheels turning in her head.
"You mean go for the audition?" She deciphered his meaning.
He nodded enthusiastically, "I registered you. You'd be perfect for Velma."
Santana couldn't believe it, "I love that part!"
"Sexy mezzo, former cabaret dancer with a powerful voice," Finn listed, "who don't take no crap from nobody."
Santana's dimple appeared in her cheek, "who murders her sister and cheating husband!"
"Oh, no," Finn corrected, faking his sincerity, "you blacked out and don't remember a thing."
"I didn't do it," Santana sang, channeling Velma's trademark brassiness, "but if I'd done it, how could you tell me that I was wrong!"
"Sounds like it was written for you!"
Santana was still taking it all in.
"I've got a light schedule next week, we could fly out Thursday night and return late on Sunday?"
Santana's whole face lit up, a smile that made flowers bloom, "Are you serious?"
"You're on the call sheet for Friday."
"Finn!" Her voice got so high, because she was excited.
"It's going to be a total cattle call, you might have to stand in line for hours…"
"I don't know what to say…"
"Say yes," Finn simply stated, "and let's work out what song you're gonna sing."
"YES! Oh my… YES!"
Santana was actually jumping, she hadn't looked that excited about anything in ages.
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Finn was beyond nervous. He'd made Santana record his first episode of The Bold and the Beautiful, but had made her promise not to watch until they were together. She had just come out of her room, having showered and changed, and he was on Mercedes' couch waiting.
"I've made popcorn!" Mercedes called from the kitchen, "movie popcorn."
Finn took a big handful from the bowl, he was so jumpy, "that really does taste like the popcorn they sell at the cinema."
"The trick is you do it on the stove with coconut oil," Mercedes beamed at his compliment.
"I know y'all are not startin' without me," Santana came out with her hair still wrapped in a towel, "I am fully prepared…"
"To throw your panties at the hotness of Spencer Mann!" Mercedes finished the sentence, Santana had started, but it had clearly been going to 'Lima Heights Adjacent' territory.
Santana shook her head in jest at Mercedes.
They all sat, throw rug across their knees.
"How did your audition go earlier?" Finn asked Santana.
"For Brothers and Sisters," Santana hung her head, "don't ask."
He sank a little, "That bad?"
"I could have upstaged Meryl Streep in my dramatic monologue about how I'm remaining with my boring husband in the Bridges of Madison County, and they wouldn't have noticed."
"Sorry to hear that," Finn felt bad for her.
Mercedes didn't know the details of how hard it had been most of the time, "Why do you think that was?"
"They took one look at me and decided I didn't look right," Santana fumed, "to play a fucking nanny!"
"Sucks!" Mercedes said shaking her head.
"I can't even get the roles I don't even want," Santana's pain at all the rejection, was hard to watch. She took a deep breath, her way of 'shaking it off' that Finn had noticed, "We're here for Finn."
"Agreed."
The girls drum rolled on their knees.
Finn felt like he was dying of thirst, but he kept stuffy that salty, buttery popcorn in his mouth. The theme song played. Finn's first appearance was in a scene between brothers. Tyler is planning his big party, and Spencer arrives, a single gym bag and his guitar, dressed like he is working folk. And the dysfunction at the heart of their relationship is evident from the first scene.
"Rugged!" Mercedes commented.
"I would definitely fuck you!" Santana commented seeing his scene alter ego.
"Um, hmm," Mercedes agreed, seemingly accidently out loud, until Santana threw popcorn at her.
"He's taken!"
That made him smile.
His was one of four storylines going on in the episode. It was so weird to finally see the scene, Tyler's party, Marisol arriving in the maid outfit, the boys harassing her to strip, and then finally, his big performance, the scene they had auditioned with in his father's study.
"That's Jennifer?" Santana commented, finally seeing the woman who'd gotten Marisol over her.
"You could totally take her in a fight," Mercedes showed her support.
"Definitely!" Santana agreed.
"Is this a bad time to mention we are filming our first sex scene next week?" Finn slipped in.
Santana turned to him, cocking her head to the side.
"I kinda need your help."
Shaking her head, "To help that twig have fake sex with my boyfriend!"
"I'm not in the slightest bit interested in her," Finn reassured her, "she's my co-worker and she has a boyfriend."
"And you have a girlfriend, is the A answer!" Santana reminded him testily.
"You getting all possessive is kinda hot actually," Finn pointed out, "since you wouldn't even admit you were my girlfriend a month ago."
Santana sniped back "A month ago, you still wanted to fuck Berry!"
"Do you two want me to leave?" Mercedes reminded them she was sitting next to Finn.
"All good," said Finn, they weren't really arguing.
Mercedes un-paused it, the part where Spencer was asking Marisol how long she'd been a maid.
Santana began fanning herself in exaggerated motions.
"You just need to ride in on a white horse," Mercedes remarked.
"It's not too… over the top?" Finn asked, his stomach was still knotted that they'd think the whole think was ridiculous.
Santana dialed up her sassy, "I think all the grandmas, crackheads and housewives who watch daytime TV are going to be positively soaking their panties for the hotness that is one, barely legal, piece of Finn Hudson ass!"
"I bet he's gonna start getting fanmail," Mercedes pointed out.
"I'm planting my flag on that johnson," Santana gestured with her hand, "It's mine ladies, hands off!" Santana snarked.
Finn thought they were just trying to make him feel better, "Seriously?"
"Seriously," They both agreed in unison.
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"Hey Britt Britt."
"Santana, hey!"
"Counting down the days until I see you!"
"Did you get the nannying job?"
"Nope," Santana knew she meant, the job as an actor playing a nanny on a TV show.
"That sucks."
"How are you? What's going on in that neck of the woods?"
"How can woods have a neck? It's a collection of trees?"
"How's Glee Club?"
"Lord Tubbington's fishing is threatening to tear the club apart."
What the actual fuck have you been smoking Britt?
"Really?"
"Ryder is mad, because Lord Tubbington was pretending to be some hot, blonde, girl."
Santana actually considered calling Trouty to find out if whatever Britt was talking about was serious. But then again, did she really want to listen to Lips talk? Probably not.
"Have you guys decided on a set list yet?"
"Not yet, or maybe? I can't remember."
"How's Cheerios?"
"It's okay, Quinn is like, even bossier than I remember."
What? Santana reminded herself, she means Kitty!
Trying to decipher Brittany's way of interchanging objects and people she found similar was much easier when Santana was in her day-to-day life.
"Well, call me if anything happens, good or bad, I hate feeling so far away."
"Okay."
"Love you.
"Love you too."
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Desmond Ortega Jr was not what Finn was expecting. He was about 50, and looked a bit like Tony Fernandez, the shortstop from the Toronto Bluejays. Finn wasn't much into baseball, but Burt was a fan. He thought he had the wrong guy at first. Finn didn't know too much about genetics but he thought Santana had made a mistake, but then he noticed his eyes. Similar shape, and really dark, just like hers. His ears and his lips a little.
Orfeu Negra was doing their sound check at Catalina Bar and Grill, and then Finn had convinced them to let him interview the whole band afterward. So, he'd lied. He was pretending to be a film student at UCLA making a documentary on contemporary Latin Jazz. He'd been cram studying Coltrane, Charli Parker Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie and Duke Ellington all week so he wouldn't sound like a total fraud.
Finn had been watching all six of them for nearly an hour. Desmond was focused and he knew his part exactly, but he had a drink, an amber spirit on ice, he was resting on the window sill and would go back to every so often. He was relaxed, and would joke, but he was fussy about his tenor saxophone. He would adjust and readjust everything until the sound was perfect. He had a fedora on, and an open, powder blue shirt, and cream dress pants. stylish but casual.
The acoustic guitarist, Sam, struck a beat, very mellow and bluesy, and it was only a few intro bars before Desmond joined him on the sax. It was a duet of sorts with no singing. The guitar would call and the saxophone would answer with a poignant melody.
The way he blew the instrument, and the crisp, bold sound of the music, the feeling it evoked within him. Finn had never heard this song and he felt incredibly moved by it.
Da-da da-da the acoustic guitar was cool, flirting with the saxophone that replied with heat; bop ba dada da dada and then it repeated.
It made him think of a striking woman strolling across a crowded bar, catching the eye of every man in there. Intriguing. Seductive. Unforgettable.
Finn broke out of his trance once the song ended.
"That was beautiful," Finn commented as Desmond Jr came over and sat down opposite him.
Finn was sitting at a square wooden table with modest chairs, next to a window.
"I've always loved to cover that song," Santana's bio-Dad admitted.
"What's it called?"
Desmond stared back, 'seriously!'
Finn realized he'd probably just blown his cover.
"'Lily was here'," The older man informed him, "Dave Stewart and Candy Dulfer made it famous late '89."
"You're amazing," Finn couldn't help but feel in awe of the man before him, larger than life.
Finn smiled nervously, as he set his cell down on the small wooden table in front of his interviewee, set to voice record. This part of the bar wasn't open yet. They were set to play a show in two hours.
"Thanks for agreeing to let me interview you," Finn was gracious, "Can I get you a drink?" Loosen your tongue.
The older man nodded. And Finn spoke to the wait staff.
"So, Mr Ortega, who are your biggest musical influences?"
He scoffed, "Mr Ortega!" Looking over his shoulder dramatically, "Don't know who you could mean, Scout. They call me Rolls."
"Rawls?"
"No Rolls."
"Why do they call you 'Rolls'?" He was maybe 5'10" and slim, except for a moderate beer gut.
"Think Dylan, Jagger."
Finn wasn't sure what he meant. He'd have to give it more thought later. He clutched his notes, where he'd scrawled useful questions down. But he was feeling flustered.
Finn read from his notes, "Did you name the band?"
"I did."
"Why Black Orpheus?" Finn asked.
Rolls smiled slyly, "Do you know the myth?"
Finn nodded, something else he'd learned in the last few days, "Orpheus was a great poet and musician and he charmed everywhere he went…"
"And then he fell in love with Eurydice," Rolls took over the narrative, "On the day they were wed she was bitten by a snake and died. And Orpheus enchanted the ferryman with his music to allow him to journey across the River Styx, despite being alive, and lulled the hellhounds to sleep with his lyre, so he could enter the gates to the underworld."
Finn had only caught the gist of it, it was interesting to hear Rolls give it such life.
"And then Orpheus sang for Hades and Persephone of his love for Eurydice."
Finn watched his face closely as he spoke, so genuine and sad. Romantic.
"Hades was said to have wept at Orpheus' song of love and devotion, and made a deal that he would allow Eurydice to return to the earth, alive, but only if Orpheus were to walk in front, and Eurydice behind until reaching the surface, he was not to look back at her."
"Yeah, I read about it," Finn was embarrassed, "Why did Hades do that? I didn't really get it."
Rolls watched him closely.
"Well, we all know how it ended, Orpheus couldn't help himself, he looked back right before they reached the surface, so she was sent back, and he got ripped to shreds by some angry women."
Finn couldn't help but laugh in his own discomfort, "That's… wow, they aren't kidding with those Greek tragedies."
"That's the best part," Rolls disagreed confidently, "Love, death, beauty, passion, live hard and regret nothing."
Finn saw an opening, "Did you lose a great love?"
He was kind of hoping Maribel Lopez was the one that got away and he was full of regret, writing albums of the heartache. Thinking on the daughter he'd left behind.
Rolls sipped his drink, "Something like that, a long time ago."
"Did you ever marry?" Finn asked.
"It's just me."
"That sounds… lonely?"
He shrugged, "My sax is my wife and booze is my mistress."
Finn wasn't sure what to say to that. He wanted to know if Rolls at least had regrets, "What got you into jazz?"
The older man was taken aback by the question, unsure how to respond. "Jazz was just all around me as a kid, it just is. It's just life… how we express ourselves. There's never been anything else."
"Where did you grow up?"
"San Juan, Puerto Rico."
Same as Maribel. "Are your parents' musicians?"
"Yes and no," Rolls was further amused by that line of questioning, "My mother was a dancer, and she used to sing, no one paid her to do it though."
"And your father?"
"He'd skipped out when I was pretty young," Rolls shrugged, "I think my mother thought naming me after him would make him proud… it didn't."
The older man was keeping his composure for now, but was becoming increasingly short with this conversation.
He grew up without a father.
"Back to my musical influences," Rolls redirected the conversation now, "You know the folk legend that Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil," Rolls' face was completely sincere.
Finn didn't know who Robert Johnson was. But that sounded insane, he wasn't sure if the jazz musician was about to laugh at him. But Finn wasn't sure, so he didn't let on anything yet.
"I've heard that," Finn responded with another lie.
"The devil bestowed Johnson with his ethereal abilities on the guitar and his voice…." Rolls paused, checking Finn's expression for a tell. "In those days, in Tennessee and Mississippi that meant you wanted to play secular music."
He's not being serious. Relief.
"I don't go in for superstition, myself, but I think hearing Johnson's music… before I even left the womb had some kind of influence on the kind of musician I would become."
Finn took the opportunity to pry on the personal opening Santana's Dad had given him.
"So, your mother was a jazz enthusiast too?"
"That she was," Rolls stated, before going back to his jazz appreciation history, "Do you know Johnson's 'Crossroad Blues' or 'Hellhound on my trail'?"
Finn shook for no.
Rolls continued unconcerned, "Pete Welding once described Robert Johnson to Son House," Rolls no doubt assumed Finn totally knew who he was talking about, "He called a young, Robert Johnson, an abysmal guitar player, but good on the harmonica."
"He was jealous?" Finn asked, hoping he hadn't exposed himself.
Rolls' eyes focused on Finn as if unimpressed for a mere moment, before it was gone. "But two years later Johnson had gone from novice to master."
I am so lost.
"Much more likely 'The Devil's Own' spent the better part of that time learning guitar from Ike Zimmerman."
Finn needed to at least pretend to care about their band, "Who taught you how to play the saxophone?"
"That's a whole 'nother story, doesn't involve a deal with the devil though…" Rolls took a long swig of his bourbon, "I was a bad kid, from mean streets…" The jazz man shook his head in dismay, "I got sent to one of those juvenile reform schools."
"Okay."
"Learned to play there, best thing for me, straightened me out."
Not the answer Finn would have expected. He thought those kinds of places just made kids worse. Was it familiar though? Didn't Louis Armstrong say similar of himself?
"They let you play a saxophone in a juvenile facility?" Finn tried to clarify, because that just didn't sound right.
"No, but I learned about music, I blew a bugle back then."
"So, the system works?"
Rolls shrugged, "Worked for me."
"When did you come to the states?"
"I came for the odd festival or gig for years, but I didn't really move here until much later… '91? '92 maybe?"
That would fit.
"And you write some of the songs, right?" Finn got to some of his more burning questions, "I really like 'Safe Bet'."
"That's not one of our hits," Rolls was impressed Finn knew the song.
"The sax solo is… phenomenal, and you can really feel the anger, the disappointment," Finn fanboyed for a moment, "It's got some real emotion behind it, the guy's so mad at his lover for choosing the boring guy with the 9-5 job, and the stable income, life in suburbia."
"Yeah, you got it."
Finn tried not to sound too interested in the answer, "Was that based on something you really went through?"
Rolls' eyes narrowed, before he measured his words, "I'm a firm believer that art is what you interpret it as."
"And art is informed by life," Finn shot back. Come on.
Rolls knew this was a dance of sorts now. "The creativity exists, some musicians are better able to tap into it." Rolls laid out his philosophy of life, "Pain, life? Who could say what does it?"
"Like Orpheus?" Finn suggested.
Rolls smiled back, "like Orpheus."
"Did you ever regret, not going the family route?" Finn asked.
Rolls studied Finn across the table. No doubt picking up on the oddness of this interview. "Doesn't matter now!"
Finn faked ignorance, "why not?"
"Because it's too late.," He took a long swallow of bourbon.
"Why?"
"It just is… I blew it."
"How so?"
"She chose him, and that's that," Rolls leaned back crossing his arms.
Finn stared at the musician in front of him, and Rolls stared back.
Rolls knitted his brows together, "you're not a film student and you're definitely not into jazz. So, the question is, why are you here corn-fed Iowa boy!"
Finn was relieved not to keep this charade going any longer.
"Ohio, actually," Finn corrected, watching closely as the older man straightened up, "Lima, Ohio to be exact."
He observed Rolls reacting to the mention of the state he no doubt knew his former flame and daughter lived in. And then he just waited.
"What's this really about?"
"I just wanted an excuse to talk to you…" Finn came clean, "I'm Santana's boyfriend."
The jazz man's whole face changed, he flashed anger at being played. "If she needs a kidney, I'm afraid neither of mine are looking too good," He sounded amused more than anything, "drank a bit too much piss these past… 30 years or so. Liver's pretty shot too!"
Finn was completely thrown by his remarks. Like the only reason Santana would want to see him was if she was sick and needed an organ transplant. WTF!
Breathe. He's uncomfortable and trying to be funny?
"No," Finn tried to control his own urge to smack this guy, "after you blew her off junior year, she doesn't want to bother with you."
"So, what the fuck are you doing here?" The older man's irritation began to flare, and he started to get up. Aggressively reaching for his jacket on the back of the chair.
"I wanted to get the measure of you. I don't want to encourage her to make contact with you unless you are actually interested in having some kind of relationship with her, because if you aren't… I don't want her getting hurt."
"Well, aren't you just a prince," The old man mocked.
"Hardly." Finn got up and gathered his jacket and pulled out a twenty to cover his drinks. "I just care about her." Apparently, way more than you do, JERK!
Rolls was already getting up too, but then he stopped, and seemed to think better of it, leaned over and grabbed Finn's wrist. "You got a picture of her?"
"Of course," Finn pulled out his phone.
"I've never had a picture," Her dad admitted, sadly.
Seriously? Are he and her mother on that bad of terms?
Rolls gave him his number and Finn saved it, sending a picture of Santana and Quinn from the non-wedding reception.
"It's from February."
Rolls looked at it, zooming in. "She's beautiful," he commented, as if he was seeing Santana for the first time. "I had it in my head that she looked more like Maribel."
Finn was confused, didn't he see her like two years ago? But said nothing to that.
"When she came to see me, I was so…" Rolls stared at Finn, searching his face for absolution, "I didn't know what to… we hardly talked, I… gave her my number and said I had to go… that was a real dick move."
Santana didn't exactly look like either of them, but her features resembled both of them somewhat, Finn observed.
"She's got your eyes," Finn stated plainly.
Her father looked more closely at the picture, finished his drink slowly, and deliberately. He nodded at the waitress and ordered another double bourbon.
Rolls' whole demeanor had changed by now, his eyes pleaded with Finn, "Tell me about her."
"Santana's awesome," Finn took pride in relaying, "smart, independent, sassy."
Rolls nodded absently, but his eyes kept studying her picture.
Finn couldn't help but fondly relay, "She doesn't take crap from anybody."
Rolls smiled at that description.
"And so talented, you should hear her sing."
Rolls clearly wanted that. Finn was sure he had a video on his phone of Santana singing.
"We were in high school Glee Club together, here she is, singing at one of our sectionals competitions."
He showed the video of Santana singing Valerie. Kurt had shot it on his fancy new phone at the time, and Finn had insisted on a copy.
Rolls took his phone and zoomed on her face. He turned up the volume. He was entirely focused on her performance, and so Finn didn't say anything until her performance had ended.
Rolls only said, "She's really good."
Finn kept telling him, "We were national show choir champions last year in Chicago, Santana was a soloist in our winning performance."
"Is that what she wants to do?" The older man asked, perhaps sounding more engaged, "Be a singer?"
"She's living in L.A., Lincoln Heights," Finn was proud to say, "Santana's trying to make it as an actress, but she's mostly waiting tables for now. She filmed a scene for CSI a few weeks back."
He was blank.
"That crime show, with all the forensics,"
"Oh, okay, I've heard of that."
"She's going to start drama school here in the fall."
"What kind of music is she in to?"
"Lots of stuff, I'm more classic rock," Finn was happy to give details, "but she has more eclectic tastes than me, RnB, soul, hip hop, popular, she wrote this song called 'Trouty Mouth', and it's really jazzy, she sounds like Norah Jones when she sings it."
Rolls' whole face lit up, "Have you got that on your phone?"
"I don't think so."
"So, she's willing to see me?" He asked as if afraid of the answer.
Finn thought on it, "Do you really want this second chance? You'd better not bail."
Rolls was silent then.
To be fair, he hadn't been expecting this conversation when he sat down.
"Think about it, sleep on it," Finn suggested helpfully. "And let me know. You've got my number now."
He seemed hesitant, "But she's keen?"
Finn nodded, "Yeah, she is." Finn wasn't exactly lying, Santana did want to see him, but only if he was prepared to make an effort.
"She asks me where I've been," He shook his head, "What am I gonna say to her?"
"That you're trying now," Finn suggested. My Dad's dead, at least you can still do something.
"Thanks for this," Rolls gestured to the photo Finn had sent, but he probably meant the whole conversation about Santana. It didn't sound like her mother had kept him informed of anything.
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Finn was on the phone to Kurt.
"What did you think?" Finn had already spoken to his Mom, Mr Schue, Burt, Mercedes about their thoughts since his first episode aired.
"My brother's a TV star!" Kurt exclaimed, "I've been bragging in all my classes."
Finn chuckled. In truth, he wanted some honest feedback, whether he looked a fool next to all those real actors.
Kurt was pumped, "I think one, Spencer Mann, is going to be the new B&B heartthrob!"
"Really?" Finn didn't dare hope.
"That scene, after the frat boys think she's stripper and you tell her she can come to you if she has problems working for your dad…" Kurt relayed, "Perfection… it was so sweet! Prince Charming!"
Then Finn really did overflow with relief and gratitude. Santana and Mercedes had agreed he was really good, but of course they would say that.
"How did all your assessments go?"
"I'm proud of how I did," Kurt sounded confident, "It'll be fine."
"Good on you," Finn was proud.
"I'm prepping for a Broadway audition of my own."
"Cool," Finn said absently, "I got Santana an audition slot for the Chicago open call on Friday."
"So, are you coming to the city too?" Kurt was so excited.
"Yeah, I'm not rostered to work on Friday, so Santana and I are flying out on Thursday night."
"Oh, I can't wait!"
"She's so excited!" Finn was so proud, "She's put together such a sexy audition piece, I feel sorry for all the other girls!"
Kurt was happy for him, "Finn, it's Broadway open call, she'll be up against the best of the best."
"We'll see."
"Like a thousand women will audition."
"Woaw!"
Kurt immediately became concerned, "Are you two planning on staying here… because I'm not sure Rachel is coping that well…"
"No," Finn jumped in, "I got us three nights at the Marriott, it's like walking distance to the theater."
"Oh, how fabulous!" Kurt sounded really happy for him.
"It's an early birthday present for both of us," Finn admitted, "We've been talking about it for a while."
"So, I take it, everything is joyeux?"
"Huh?"
"Joyous."
"Yeah, really good," Finn was happy to report. "In two weeks, I will have wrapped for the season."
"Oh congrats!" Kurt could be heard clapping down the phone.
"You know that audition I mentioned," Kurt was chuffed, "There's a progressive reboot of A Chorus Line."
"Really?"
"I'm so excited!"
Finn mentioned, "I love A Chorus Line!"
Finn might not have been able to appreciate all the dancing in it, but he loved the idea of giving stories and character and depth to all the background performers that are forgotten all too easily. He loved how they made you laugh and cry as you related to their struggles and then you rooted for them all to make it.
"Are they changing the script? It was pretty ground breaking at the time," Finn pointed out.
"Yeah, but that was the 1970s, the version they are talking about, as far as I heard," Kurt explained, "Instead of Dance 10 Looks 3, the character is a transwoman singing about how she felt after her gender reassignment surgery."
"Wow," Finn was amazed.
"And there will be more people of color, including an Iraqi Muslim character, who literally has the surname 'Hussein', talking about the racism he faces in America today, a new take on the 'Reggie' character."
"That's… huh?" Finn didn't really give too much thought to that. But, the Muslim kids at school, the few there were, did get slammed into lockers and called 'terrorist', so maybe they did have a point. "Is Rachel going to audition?"
"She's going out for Cassie."
Cassie. The fallen star… Cassie's the best dancer. That isn't really a good fit… Finn stopped himself from being negative, "Well good luck to her. What part do you want?"
"The re-vamped Gregory Gardener character, who is going to talk about bullying and depression in high school before he came out."
"That sounds perfect for you, I really hope you get it!"
"God, I hope I get it, I hope I get it…" Kurt began to sing the famous opening group number, "how many people does he need?"
Finn grinned, "I guess I walked right into that one!"
Kurt was so excited, he kept gushing about the script, "The whole Sheila character will have more depth, explaining about her surviving sexual assault by becoming hard and adopting her 'I don't give a… stuff attitude," Kurt continued to explain the new arrangement, "and the dancing will take on some contemporary, hip hop fusion."
"That's awesome Kurt, it's nice to hear you be so jazzed about something."
Kurt was back to brimming with excitement, "The Diana character is going to be overtly a lesbian."
"That's awesome!" Finn exclaimed. Diana is a good fit for Santana. The Puerto Rican woman from the Bronx who was bullied at drama school. She's a mezzosoprano too.
"Have the open call audition slots gone already?"
"Yep, closed yesterday!"
"Oh, that's… damn."
"How lucky is it, that I registered one Ms Santana Lopez!"
"Oh, Kurt, you're the best!"
"It's two weeks after the first Chicago audition."
"I'll have wrapped by then," Finn was thinking out loud.
"Yep, and right after that is Nationals prep for Glee Club, Mr Schue asked anyone who can, to return to help."
"Yeah, we're both going back for that."
"Yeah, Rachel and I will be too, wouldn't miss it! I swear I'm more excited about it than Blaine is!"
"How is Blaine?"
"Waiting to find out if he got into NYADA, he's a wreck," Kurt sounded amused, "I'm sure he's going to get in."
Finn took a moment to reflect, "It's all really startin' to happen now, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I feel really good… about how everything is going," Kurt agreed.
"Good talk," Finn really meant it, "we should get dinner, Friday night, once the audition is over."
"Me and Rachel?"
"Your call, you know best, where's she's at."
"I'm not sure, maybe, I'll see how she's feeling after the audition," Kurt suggested, "It's just a casual hang right?"
"Yeah, totally low key.
"Cool. I gotta go. Vogue."
"See ya Friday, buddy."
A/N: I highly recommend looking up the jazz songs mentioned in this chapter, it makes for much better reading- Robert Johnson's 'Hellhound on my trail' and 'Crossroad Blues', and 'Lily was here' by Dave Stewert and Candy Dulfer.