Kurt was really dreading going to school the next day. It wasn't that he didn't think he'd be able to join a club. It was mostly that he didn't want to. Most kids his age didn't understand him. They would give him funny looks when he talked about his favorite musical, no one ever understood his movie references, and any comment he made about someone's fashion sense was met with a disgusted sneer. He had found, over the last year and a half, that being around other kids just made everything harder, and he'd rather just avoid it. But he couldn't avoid it any more. Not with a threat like that from his father.

So, that afternoon, after grabbing his lunch, he scanned the lunchroom for somewhere to sit. Maybe if he could sit at the right table, he'd find a club he liked without having to look too hard. He spotted a table on the other side of the room that was mostly empty save for one girl and the posters she had spread out everywhere. Someone with a lot of posters must be involved in a lot of things, right? So, he made his way toward her.

"May I sit here?" he asked, studying what lay on the table.

"Be careful with the posters," she said. "They take 20 minutes each to make."

"Okay." What an odd thing to say. Think of something to reply. His brain fumbled. "I see you're in the Speech Club," he finally said lamely.

"Speech Club, Renaissance Club, the Muslim Students Club, Black Student Union. It's important for me to be immersed in all cultures. I'm an actress."

Kurt furrowed his brow as he listened to the strange girl talk. What is she doing in the Muslim Students Club and the Black Student Union? I'm positive she's neither of those things. At her mention of being an actress, however, he perked up. He knew he'd seen her somewhere before, and now, he knew where. "Oh, I know. I've seen your videos on MySpace," he said happily. "You're very talented."

The girl stuck out her hand. "I'm Rachel Berry." She didn't meet his eyes, however. Instead, she stared with just a hint of disgust at his lunch tray sitting atop her posters.

Kurt took her hand, shaking it lightly. "Kurt Hummel." He paused. Think of something to say. Anything! Just think. Glancing down at the poster she was currently applying colorful dots to, he said, "Well, perhaps I should join the Speech Club." When she snapped her head up to give him a strange look, he hurried to add, "My-my dad's making me join something. And, to be honest, I've also been toying around with a career in acting." He had never told anyone that before, but, of course, he'd never really had a friend before. Maybe Rachel could be his friend?

"I'm not toying around with anything." The look on Rachel's face made Kurt lean away from her just slightly. She looked deathly serious and just the tiniest bit crazy, like if he said the wrong thing to her, she might snap and scratch his face like a cat. He didn't need anyone messing up his perfect skin that he worked so hard to maintain. "The minute I graduate, I'm going directly to Broadway, and I'm never looking back." She looked away from him, returning to dotting her poster. "Besides, you can't join the Speech Club. It's full."

"Oh…" Kurt's heart dropped. So much for that idea. Oh well. He'd just have to look somewhere else.

Just as he was thinking about picking up his tray and searching for a new, more isolated table, Rachel's head snapped up, and she looked at him almost conspiratorially. "Can you carry a tune?"

"Yes." Kurt felt his heart jump in his chest.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Because I don't know if you've heard the good news, but the Glee Club is starting up again. It was really awful when that perv, Mr. Ryerson, was in charge, but Mr. Schue is taking it over now."

She was talking so fast that it was difficult for Kurt to follow exactly what she was saying, and he concentrated very hard on listening, his eyes fixed on her face.

"He's that really cool Spanish teacher who looks like an old Justin Timberlake. When he was in this school and he was in the Glee Club, they won nationals. Do you know how hard that is?"

She switched gears so fast that Kurt was sure he was going to get whiplash.

"I'm assuming you're a contralto or a mezzo-soprano. We'll explore your vocal range tomorrow after school. I'll reserve the auditorium."

The next few days were a whirlwind for Kurt. He went to sing with Rachel in the auditorium, and they performed one of his favorite songs from his favorite shows: Popular from Wicked. For a moment, while he was singing with her, he'd thought there was a chance that they could be friends. Yes, she was singing about making him better, and she obviously had some very lofty goals for a high school sophomore, but maybe being around her and her confidence would rub off on him. However, when the song had ended, and he'd suggested they audition together, her response had shattered every one of his hopes.

"Together?" she'd squawked. "I'm sorry, Kurt, it-it doesn't work that way. When you look at the sky at night, what do you see?"

"Um...stars?" he'd mumbled, confused as to where she was going with this.

"Exactly. Some shine brighter than others, but they all shine on their own. I enjoyed singing with you today, and I look forward to doing it again. But when it comes to auditions, it's every man for himself on this stage. Eat or be eaten. This is show choir." Then, she'd flounced away, leaving Kurt to feel sad and as alone as always next to the piano on the empty auditorium stage.

He'd gone home that night feeling defeated. Why even bother to join a club when he couldn't even make any friends before it had started. He even shared several interests with Rachel, but she'd refused to even consider auditioning with him. Was he really that bad? Those thoughts wouldn't leave him alone that night as he worked on his sewing project, eager to get it finished before his dad inevitably took away his sewing machine. He was still thinking about it as he cooked dinner and before bed as he worked on Pip, Pip, Hooray! He considered signing in to the chat room Ms. Pillsbury had shown him, but he didn't know what to post. So, in the end, he shut his light off and went to bed feeling discouraged.

The feeling still hadn't really left at school the next day. Rachel stopped him in the hallway long enough to tell him that the auditions were that afternoon, and he definitely needed to sign up. When he went to check the sign-up sheet, he found only Rachel's name with a massive gold star sticker next to it. He quickly signed his name below it and walked away before anyone caught him doing it. He didn't want his name on the sign-up sheet to scare anyone else away.

Kurt had a rare moment of bravado after his third period English class when he saw Mercedes Jones walking out of class just a few feet in front of him. He'd heard stories about her singing, about how she'd broken a window at her church when she'd hit a particularly high note. She was legendary, and it would be great for the tiny show choir if she'd join. "Miss Jones?" he called out to her hesitantly, hoping she wouldn't just ignore him.

"That's me," she said, not turning around.

"I-I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Mm-hmm. Kurt Hummel. And, what do you want?" She didn't stop as she spoke, and she encouraged him to walk faster beside her. "We're walking. We're talking."

He explained what he'd heard about her, about his desire to be like here. And, where did that come from, Kurt? You've never thought that before. Brown-noser. Then, he had to explain to her that he did not want to join her church choir. Instead, he wanted her to join the Glee Club. For some extra spice, he added in a little plea, mentioning some names he knew she'd fall for. "Why wait for Sundays to be Aretha Franklin and Beyoncé and Donna Summer when you can do it every day, right here at William McKinley High School."

That seemed to get her attention. "Miss Jones is listening," she said.

Then, out of nowhere, Kurt found himself confessing. "I-I want to audition, I'm a-a nobody, you know? I don't know what song to sing. I don't know what to do with my hands when I'm singing." He chuckled dryly at himself. "I don't know how to move all cool, like...like you do, because...because you're you, and, well, I'm-I'm...this." He shrugged. He knew he wasn't anything spectacular, but he had to try, he supposed. His dad had asked him to. "Inside, I'm-I'm more," he ended lamely.

"Okay. I will help," Mercedes told him. Again, Kurt's heart skipped in his chest. Maybe Mercedes was the friend he'd been waiting for.

"First tip: you have an incredibly loud fashion sense," she said, making Kurt wince.

He'd always been proud of his clothes. They gave him a sense of self-worth, and he loved that they were a way for him to express himself without really expressing. Now she was going to tell him that he needed to stop, that he'd never fit in with the Glee Club unless he fit in with his peers, too. To his surprise, she didn't say that. Instead, she came at it from a new angle.

"It's time for your attitude to match your outfits."

"I guess I just feel safer if I let all the clothes do the talking. In a way, it lets me feel invisible." Probably not something you should mention to a potential new friend, Kurt, he chided himself, completely missing the end of what Mercedes said. The next thing he knew, she was passing him a slip of paper.

"That's the song you're going to sing."

When he unfolded it and read the title she'd written down, his smile grew wide. Mr. Cellophane from Chicago. "It's perfect."

That afternoon, after school, with very little practice time under his belt, Kurt took the stage to audition for Glee Club. Despite being completely nervous to the point that his hands trembled as he took the stage, his voice was loud and strong when he spoke. "Hello. I'm Kurt Hummel, and I'll be singing Mr. Cellophane." The notes floated out of his mouth perfectly, and by the time he was finished, he felt an overwhelming surge of pride. He'd done it. He'd auditioned. He'd sung in front of people, an idea that had seemed terrifying not that many days before. He got an even bigger rush when Mr. Schue said that he was accepted and they'd start practice the next day. He bounced off the stage, grabbed his backpack, and headed straight for the doors. He had to tell his dad.

When he flounced into the shop, Hummel Tires and Lube, his dad was busy changing a tire. "Hey, Dad!" he said anyway, skipping over. "I did it!"

"Huh?"

"I joined a team." He beamed, hoping his dad would be proud.

"Hey, hey! All right! There we go, Kurt! Which one?"

He sighed, a dreamy look on his face. "The Glee Club."

"What's Glee Club?"

"It's amazing! We-we sing and dance and-"

"Look, uh, Kurt…" Burt Hummel said, watching as his son's smile instantly fell. "It's not like I got a problem with it. I'm all for singing and dancing, but the point of this was for you to feel what it's like to bond over a shared goal." He didn't want to mention the nasty "d" word, depression, when any one of his employees could over here, and he was pretty sure that Kurt knew what he meant.

"Well, Glee Club is-is kinda like that," Kurt said, hoping to defend his choice at least a little. "At the end of the term, we-we perform at this big competition in front of an audience. Against other schools, you know?"

Burt raised an eyebrow. "So, it really is like a sports team?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Uh, kind of." Kurt considered not finishing his thought. It was only going to lead to more explanation, but when his dad opened his mouth to question what he meant, he hurried to add, "E-except with choreography and Beyoncé."

Furrowing his brow, Burt asked, "Who's Beyoncé? She one of the girls on the team?"

Kurt sighed. "No, Dad. She's, like, the biggest pop star in the world."

"Oh." Burt wasn't sure what to say. It was obvious Kurt was excited about this new club; it just wasn't what he'd imagined.

"I mean, we-we could use a-a strong male lead…" Kurt added, thinking about the sign-up sheet. If it was truly only him, Rachel, and Mercedes, they would definitely need someone who could sing bass notes. "But, I really think it's-it's gonna be something special." At least I hope, he thought but didn't add.

"Okay," Burt said, nodding. "Okay. Good. Good." It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "This is good. I still think it'd do you good to be part of a real sports team, but...well, you seem happy."

"Honestly, Dad, I don't think I've ever been this genuinely excited to go to school," he admitted, realizing that he really did feel that way. He had no idea what Glee Club was going to be like, but he was excited to find out. "Thanks for pushing me to do this."

Burt smiled at his son, going back to what he was doing. "Thanks for showing up for yourself."

For a moment, Kurt considered coming out as gay to his dad right then and there. They were being so open and honest with one another; there was a connection that hadn't been there much since his mom passed away. But just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, someone called for Burt's attention, ending the moment.

"We good?" Burt asked, turning to deal with whatever situation had just come up.

"Yeah...yeah. We're good. I'll go home and get started on dinner."

"Okay," Burt said, walking away.

Kurt's excitement for Glee Club was short-lived. In a matter of a few days, Rachel and Mercedes were at each other's throats, there was fighting over whether or not Finn, one of the most popular (and attractive) boys on the football team who occasionally joined his friends in harassing and bullying Kurt, should be allowed to stay in the Club, and Rachel made herself into the self-appointed Queen Bee very quickly, demanding that she be given all the solos to "set a precedent." On top of all that, Mr. Schue was stuck in the past, itching to relive his glory days in the Glee Club and was trying to force them to sing songs that were popular when he was performing. With only six kids in the club, nothing sounded good. By the end of his first week, Kurt was beginning to question whether or not he'd made the right choice when he joined Glee Club. At least his dad hadn't taken his sewing machine away.

On Friday night, Kurt again logged into the bullying support group page that Ms. Pillsbury had given him. The bullying hadn't been any worse that week than before. There were still daily locker checks, nearly daily slushie facials, and there were gay slurs and all other manner of names thrown in his direction whenever he walked down the halls. But, that stress on top of the Glee Club stress made him feel like he needed to talk to someone. And, since he still hadn't really made a friend, he had nowhere to turn but the website.

He spent the first several minutes looking at some of the other posts. There were several accounts making posts, asking questions about how to deal with a bully that was harassing them, the best place to get homework help when they didn't feel comfortable talking to a teacher, or how to tell their parents they were feeling depressed. It seemed that there was one account that was really active, someone going by the name C.O.U.R.A.G.E. This person had answered almost every post made, and they seemed to have good advice. At least, it was advice that Kurt could see himself taking if he was in the poster's position.

Finally, after several minutes of arguing with himself over whether or not he should post or not, Kurt finally clicked on the blue words at the top of the page, "New Post." A little box popped up on his screen. There were two boxes, one indicating his username, .Hooray!, and one where he could type his message.

With trembling fingers, began to type his message.

"Hi. I'm a sophomore, and I just joined our school's Glee Club. I only joined because my dad said I had to join a club, but I was really hoping to make some friends. However, I'm finding the other kids in the club very difficult to get along with, and I'm tired of feeling lonely. I'm pretty shy and nervous. What should I do?"

He quickly pressed the "Submit" button before he could lose his nerve. Then, he immediately logged out of the program and shut down his computer. That was enough for today. Maybe he'd see if anyone responded tomorrow.