Episode 3, Chapter 2:

Blaine went home dreamy. Okay, he thought, I don't regret it. Yet. Kurt was actually a lot more real than he thought. Before he'd put him on a pedestal, but now that he was just a guy, he'd started to get to know him better. He wasn't a figment of his imagination, a Kurt puppet in his mind, but a living, breathing person who was witty and intelligent. He was still what Blaine would consider guarded but that made him more of a puzzle to solve, and he wanted that.

Inside his home, Burt and Rachel were getting nowhere in their discussion of the Upper East Side philosophy. Their dad was in a world all his own. He didn't understand the pressures. Burt only knew that he'd made the sacrifice to send them to private school because he knew they'd get a good education out of it, maybe even get into an Ivy, which would make him Father of the Century back in small town Ohio.

"Dad, I can't wear hand-me-downs that belonged to Blaine! On the weekends when I'm at home I can wear them, but not in the city where I can be seen!" she said it like it was the most horrendous thing she ever heard. Her face said enough, but her throwing the article of clothing cemented how strongly she felt.

"Hey that once belonged to me! Show some respect," Blaine told her.

"Explain to dad why I'm already an outsider enough and do not need anything else to prove that I don't belong there."

Blaine took a good long look at her. His sister was bursting with a need to be loved. She'd been in dance classes since she could walk and had an unbelievable singing talent. She needed to be in the spotlight or she might explode. He often had to calm down his sister because her energy was overwhelming for some. Rachel tried hard to be noticed in a school of rich socialites who glanced right over her. As her big brother, the least he could do was talk to his father.

"She's right. None of us belong there. We lay low, and if we're lucky, we get picked up from the ashes, and they take us in. I've been there long enough to know," he said, rolling up the shirt off the floor and taking it into his room. Burt was again left alone with his daughter.

"So, being an Anderson, my daughter, isn't good enough?"

"It is good enough, but I want better," she said silently following Blaine's lead and going to her room.


Puck gave Quinn a strange code over the phone to tell her that he'd cracked the motherlode. She had to see for herself. She waited until Sam had left her apartment before telling Puck to come over. He commandeered her computer to open up a file of pictures he'd taken when trailing Kurt after school. He'd gotten him going in and coming out of the rehab facility without Kurt knowing any better. Quinn covered her mouth in shock when she read the name of the building.

"What was he doing in there?"

"Why else would he be stopping by a psych ward? He must have some mental issue or be an addict, and we both know he can party better than all of us."

"Our poor little Kurt, how far you have fallen. I wonder what Sam will think when he hears the news," she said evilly.

"You plan on showing him."

"This isn't show-or-tell, Puck. This is the big leagues, and when you have news like this you have to make it bigger than the story' I'm thinking utter public humiliation."

"I like that you can be ruthless. It's a good look on you. Very sexy," if she was less of a lady, she would have flipped him off, but as she was, she sent him death stares.

"I think it's time for you to go."

"One day you'll change your mind and be begging for some quality time with me," he smiled knowingly.

"When pigs fly Puckerman," she laughed and started escorting him out of her room with a slight smile. He could be entertaining in small doses.


"Family therapy." Two words Kurt never thought he'd hear spoken are introduced by Finn's physician. There was a lot of tension between his mother and him in the last few days that might have heeded Finn's continuing development. He still had a hard time dealing with upsetting information and being put in between his mother and brother was not helping. The therapy would help clear up the issues Kurt had with his mom and vice versa, while also giving Finn a time to speak out truthfully.

He had never considered that Finn wasn't ready to leave the facility because Kurt never let Finn speak. Hearing him speak his mind actually took Kurt by surprise. He never considered he was so wrong in his evaluation of his brother's mental state. He thought he'd gotten better at being a brother by letting go and reciprocating the openness by telling Finn all of his problems, but he still had some interesting things to learn.

Carole wasn't off the hook completely though. Her lame excuse for where Finn had gone was paper thin and more transparent than ever since Kurt returned home.

"If she's not so embarrassed, then tell me why she hasn't just come clean with Finn's condition? Why keep it secret like we're hiding some monster? He had a low spot. People might look at Finn differently, but for the most part no one would bother him after they find out. Things might spread, but no one would leak anything to Gossip Girl."

"I do want to leave soon Kurt, but I'd rather take some oversized baby steps first."

"Well, we could always go to the school mixer. That would be a safe and comfortable environment. You know most of the people there and they'll be happy to see you. I'm thinking you may even see Blaine so I could introduce you," Kurt couldn't help adding. It seemed pretty good to Finn who nodded. It would be his first time out and socializing in a while.

Kurt meant the best, but he couldn't have known what else Quinn had in store.


Burt entered the apartment more excited than usual. Blaine, who was lounging on the sofa reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire for the 5th time, immediately noticed him. Rachel came into the kitchen sweaty with a water bottle and a pink work-out outfit when she heard the commotion by the door and her dance mix turned off.

"So, you think being from here makes you uncool. Well, take a look at what your father managed to do. You know that Ivy mixer? You both are now in the program."

"The mixer?" Blaine cocked his head. "Dad, did you miraculously switch me in as the Dartmouth usher or something? Because those are basically the only roles in that thing."

"No, I couldn't get you a spot as an usher," Burt tried to hide his disappointment. He didn't even know what that was or what he would have to do, "you are both in the refreshment committee."

"Don't tell me that's an official thing!" Rachel croaked.

"It wasn't before today, but now it is! I've got some strings to pull, you know."

"Thanks for sticking your head out, but you really didn't—" Blaine said.

"I know I didn't, but I wanted to. I don't want to be an embarrassment for you. I want you to have the same opportunities as anyone else at your school."

"People at our school won't be handing out soft drinks. This actually couldn't be a w— "

"A better idea," Blaine finished for his sister who was about to be ungrateful and break Burt's heart. He was trying and somewhat understanding the obstacles they faced.

Blaine had no interest of going to an Ivy, maybe before when he was younger, but he wasn't a name queen like some. He'd learn anywhere and he had more interests at a theater school in the city. Still, he might meet someone important and that was kind of the point of going to these things.

"I'm not too sure how these things go, but I think you should get dressed up for this."

"Dad, please don't give a style talk. We'll be okay," Rachel said running into her room to find something. She didn't want to wear the dress Quinn had given her just yet so she searched until she found a hot pink sleeveless lightweight Betsey Johnson dress with ruffles. [joey run] Blaine settled for something more dapper: a Tallia Orange Navy-Burgundy Plaid Slim-Fit Blazer over a green button-down shirt and Dries Van Noten bow tie. [wedding end]


Carole smothered her son most of the car ride. Kurt had to pry him from her arms. She could be touchy when she wanted to be. Today was extra because she was nervous.

"I'm sorry honey. Just swear to me that if anything makes you uncomfortable you tell me, and we'll be out of there before you know it. That goes for you too Kurt. Something's going on with you, and this is not the place to deal with drama. We want this to be a drama-free environment for all our sakes."

"Trust me, I don't plan to stay here very long," Kurt said, and in truth, he hadn't dressed up as much as Finn, who only owned one suit. Kurt wore a Vivienne Westwood MAN Gold Label kitten sweater with Cole Haan boots. [a wedding end]

"We're all in this together," she said.

"Oh, please don't start singing mom," Kurt aimed at her and then said to Finn, "It's show time." He had unfinished business with Quinn, and if she wanted to play hardball, then so be it.


Quinn was in a lovely black with white spots Anthropologie Nikola dress and brown Tabby belt with brown Miz Mooz 'Sharon' Pumps, talking to the Yale usher, of course, but he was about to put an end to that. [Don't stop believing S5]

"Quinn! How are you? Is this the rep from Yale? How nice to meet you! My name is Kurt Hummel; maybe you heard of me?"

"Yes, Kurt Hummel, pleasure to meet you. My name is Cooter Menkins."

"Mr. Menkins, an honor. My mother has told me so much about your university. She regrets not attending."

"Your mother is Carole?"

"Yes. You know her? …I'd love to introduce you to her. Quinn, do you mind?"

"Actually—," before words can come out of her mouth, Kurt's taking him away.

"Thank you so much! She's just a doll," he leaned into Mr. Menkins. "Great student. She's interested in joining the Peace Corp after college; she's crazy about Harvard. I tried to talk her out of its hundreds of times," he smiled back at her as Kurt took him to his mother. She played along to not ruin her image.

"What are you up to? Doesn't Quinn want to go to Yale?" his mom whispered in his ear.

"I didn't know that," he said sarcastically drinking from his cup and continued to make conversation with the man. Though they had nothing in common to talk about, he was more of the sports type, he seemed very interested in Kurt after being introduced to his mother. Everyone knew who she was and how much influence she had on the Upper East Side.


Puck went solely for the drinks and entertainment. The band sucked. What he liked was watching the socialites of Manhattan ass-kiss. They were a new level of pathetic. He lived with them all year, but when it came to university arrogance, they were particularly sad, pretending to be something they were not. He never pretended to be anything other than the badass he was. Puck had nothing to hide. He was an open book with no interest being there aside from the hot older ladies who were loose and flirty.

Then, he saw Quinn, and his lack of concern changed. She looked upset. Her pouty face was what she almost always wore these days, and he wanted to change that.

"What's bothering you?" he asked her.

"Kurt had the nerve to steal that Yale rep right out of my fingers. I literally had him on my arm, and then he melted to talk to him. Why can't I win? I'm better."

"Trust me, I know that. He makes friends with all the wrong types. Maybe I can turn your day around," Puck said brushing her hair off her shoulder. She didn't reel from his touch as she was bit distracted. "Look who else just walked in."

Quinn tracked his gaze to other side of the room where Dr. LeRoy stood with his partner Dr. Hiriam from the rehabilitation center. The blonde straightened her back, smiled at Puck and went to go break in the guests.

Interesting choice of guests Q. Coincidence? I think not.


Rachel could not be more unhappy pouring drinks. Blaine, meanwhile, had gotten into it. He could adjust to almost anything, but she could tell by the way Quinn looked at her that she had just dropped in her estimation. Rachel grinned when someone thanked her, but on the inside, she felt like she was dying.

"Try to smile," Blaine said while smiling. He could take classes as a bartender. It would be a good way to make money in Brooklyn with so many bars and clubs to work at. Rachel gave him a nasty look while Blaine pocketed a hefty tip from some lady who smiled at him.

"I haven't gotten one tip!" Rachel snapped.

"Yeah, because you aren't smiling," he said while holding his grin in place. He understood he was the alpha gay type, so most women didn't assume he was gay, and for now, that was working for him. He could keep the money he'd been pocketing, but he knew he'd end up giving half to his sister. Most times she was a brat, yet he could understand why she wasn't being pleasant today.

"Well if it isn't Blaine and Rachel, nice to see you hard at work," Puck sneered.

"Don't make me jump over the table because I will."

"I'm sure of that, but I don't want the trouble. I just want a drink. Maybe you won't mess it up: A Rum & Coke without the coke."

"I can't give you straight rum Puck. You're underage," Blaine retorted.

"I knew you wouldn't get it right. Maybe Rachel could give me what I want this time."

Blaine moved to pounce, taking everything he said to heart with little filter. He would have made another blow to Puck's face, but Rachel held him back. She gave him the drink he wanted angrily.

"Just go!" she said, and he took his drink.

"With pleasure," he said stalking away.

"I really hate it here," Rachel sighed. She looked at her bright shoes before something possessed her to look up. Finn had just given up acting normal around Mr. Puckerman, who had stopped by to talk to him and Carole. He excused himself before pushing through the people of the outdoor party to get inside. Rachel had never seen him before. She let go of Blaine, whose back she'd been stroking to calm him down and relax herself and stepped inside after Finn.

They latched eyes, but before Rachel could talk to him, Sandy stepped in her path and began talking to him. She walked closer as she listened to him weakly explain where he'd been the last few months. The man bought it, but she didn't. When he finally left, she took up his place shocking Finn with how close she'd gotten.

"Hi, I'm Rachel Berry Corcoran-Anderson!"

"You're, um, Blaine's sister? Yeah, Kurt's my brother. I'm Finn Hudson-Hummel."

"You're his brother," she repeated, understanding now why they were together, and how everyone knew his name. "You're kind of the star of the show. People look very happy that you're 'back'. So where have you been?"

"Honestly, it's a long story."

"I've got time," she said losing her chipper-ness and looking back at her "job" she really didn't want to get back to.

"You might not want to hear it. It's kind of a bummer."

"I'm a big girl," she smiled at him. Finn felt an excited sort of scared.


Kurt got tired of Cooter Menkins after another ten minutes of talking. The guy really wanted him to go to Yale. He should have been a football recruiter rather than Ivy League delegate. He shrugged him off eventually and jetted to the refreshment table.

"You need something?" Blaine said busily organizing the cups from under the table.

Kurt, not having seen him, ordered, "I could go for a Vodka soda."

"I need to see ID," he said finally coming up. Blaine drew back suddenly. Damn! He should have recognized the voice.

"Blaine?! What are you doing here?" Kurt was just as surprised to see him.

"My dad's idea. It's the only way I would have made it here. I really do need an ID," he muttered secretly. Kurt smiled. Blaine continued to surprise him with how cute he could be.

"I have a fake one; will you take it?" Kurt whispered in his ear cheekily.

"I could get fired," he played back.

"I'll take care of you," Kurt smiled. Blaine poured him the drink.

"So what school are you talking to?"

"I was talking to Yale, but he's kind of a brute, and I only did it to get back at Quinn."

"Do you really blame her for messing us up?" Blaine started confidently then uncertainly backpedaled. "Never mind." Maybe he shouldn't have asked that.

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked. Blaine exhaled and stopped working.

"I overheard you talking with her. You asked if you were even, and then you said that by her telling me what you did before with Sam that she had messed us up."

"What she did, telling you the truth, wasn't something I was going to do only because I don't want people to find out, and I especially didn't want you to find out because of what you might think of me."

"I think you're amazing Kurt. My feelings haven't changed, and I don't think they will," he blushed red, not pink.

Sam walked over to the table. Kurt hadn't seen him yet. He must have been hiding. Sam didn't like these event things. He especially hated that his dad was here wanting him to talk to Princeton when he wanted to be anywhere else. Quinn didn't even want to talk to him because she was busy chasing down her dream school, and Puck was chasing every other woman. The last friendly face he saw was Kurt, and he was talking to Blaine.

Sam took a glass off the table and slugged its contents.

"Hi Sam," Kurt said to him with a smile still on his face from flirting with Blaine. The blonde didn't respond and grabbed another cup. Blaine looked at him curiously. Kurt didn't get it for a minute, and then his eyes lit with understanding.

"You can stand next to me, but you literally won't talk to me?"

"Hi," Sam said reluctantly, still not looking directly at him.

"We can't do this. Quinn might have said it, but that doesn't mean you need to listen to her literally. She doesn't want us talking anywhere she can't see us or we're not watched. There's a bunch of people here," he spread his arm out to point out the crowd.

"I really can't," he said, and with that, Sam knew he couldn't stand next to him either. He had no reason being there. He threw away both cups and walked to the exit.

"Where are you headed Sam?" his father blocked him swiftly. "Sam!"

"I'm not going to any of these fancy schools. I'm going home. Just leave me alone!"

Sandy could have grabbed his son, but that would have caused a scene, and he only liked scenes that he could direct. He shook his head at the people standing around, nothing to see there. He debated chasing after him but knew he couldn't go anywhere fast in his lifts.