Merciful Gaga, he wasn't ready!
Oh, how he wished he could recapture that moment of perfect self-assuredness he had experienced barely 24 hours previously when Rachel had approached him with the outdated notion that he would be singing Music of the Night… Because fast-forward a day and he just felt like throwing up. He was extraordinarily grateful to his fellow NYADA finalist for having joined him behind the black curtains to tell him that… Carmen Tibideaux herself was going across the country, hand-picking students for her inaugural class as dean of Vocal Performance and Song Interpretation at her Alma Mater. But simultaneously, he could have murdered her for the same.
Then, he didn't have the time to be panicking because Madame Tibideaux was there, and he couldn't even fully enjoy the sight of Mr. Schue holding her bag with a bemused look because he was feeling too sick to his stomach. But Tibideaux called his name.
He presented his choice in an almost choked voice. Rachel had gone around and was settling herself next to their teacher with a look that clearly showcased how she would be eating her hands right at that moment if not for the chance to choke on them right before her performance.
Then the music started, and he could only sing. And it all went without a hitch.
The velcro separated with a tug, Brittany, Tina, and Santana sang chorus beautifully, his renewed cheerleading training gave his movements more fluidity, dynamism, and energy, his legs were more flexible and his jumps higher and he danced across the stage like he was born to it…
It was like the closest thing to a trip he would ever experience. He felt heated, far away but deeply conscious of his skin, and he was left panting, with a tingling throat and almost no memory of his actions during the performance. Remained the only surety that he had fucking slayed it.
When Carmen Tibideaux (in person!) congratulated him on his bold choice and expressed with no qualms how impressed she was and Hugh Jackman would be… He bowed, thanked her, and then mentally thanked all the stylists of the last Paris Fashion Week that he hadn't fainted right in front of her.
The applause from Rachel, Mr. Schue, and Finn, who had snuck in sometime before the end, was also greatly appreciated.
Once again behind the curtains, he honest to Gaga squealed with the girls - with Madame Tibideaux far enough that he wouldn't put at risk his not-yet settled reputation at the school of his dreams.
Then he and Rachel exchanged places and it was her turn to shine.
Except… she choked.
And he was there, stuck in golden pants, next to his step-brother and their Show Choir Director as she broke down crying after bombing the most important audition of their teenage years.
And he would have loved to spend the rest of his month commiserating with her, but the very same day he discovered that the reason for which Puck had cut school for a few days in the middle the most traumatizing (?) week of Kurt's young life was that he was flunking European Geography.
European Geography. And he hadn't been called!
Oh no, "the guys" thought they could solve the problem of four years of inconsistency and disregard for the subject in an afternoon session in the choir room with one (1) geography book and two (2) maps.
He could have laughed if the idea of Noah dropping out of high school with only one month of his senior year left to go for one Chanel-be-damned exam didn't rather make him want to scream.
He stormed in, groaned in frustration at the sight and dragged Noah to his Navigator by his shirt.
As they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. Which was exactly what he told Noah as he removed his leg hair with a wax strip.
As it happened, his father returned home just as Puck howled in pain, gripping the cushions of the couch where he had settled in just his t-shirt and underwear, as Kurt sat on the coffee table and rolled up the used strip to throw away later.
Burt stopped in the doorway, surveyed the scene and emphatically sighed,
"Well." Before turning towards the kitchen and choosing to ignore whatever his son and his crazy friends were up to that time.
Kurt went back to his self-appointed task.
It was the work of thirty minutes to wax the inner part of Puck's lower leg and apply a soothing cream for the cry baby, then he got his geography notes and a marker and started writing the most important-to-know info in bullet points, intersected by the other boy's attempts to be useful and Kurt's suave responses, like
"No, Noah, I'm not going to write that stupid song on your leg! This is strictly for the things you do not remember!"
Sooner rather than later his dad abandoned the safety of the kitchen to ask them about dinner, and that was how Kurt, Burt, and Puck, who was still in his underwear, ended up eating warmed-up leftovers on the couch, watching a rerun of Deadliest Catch as Kurt paid lip service to Rachel's bombed audition and Finn's endeavors in trying to comfort her.
In the morning, all Glee guys gathered outside the history classroom, some more anxious than others, as they waited for Puck to pass, or fail, his exam.
The whole thing ended up in a sweaty group hug that blocked the hallway for a good ten minutes, with Puck in the middle of the pile loudly declaring that his shin hitched and it was awful. A hand managed to sneak around and hit him on the back of the head, but no one could tell who had done it.
It was only that evening, finally home again, that he felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. Not everything was going perfectly for everyone (coughRachelBerrycough), but he felt like his life could, maybe, possibly, be on the right track.
He felt exhausted but also satisfied, knowing he had killed it at his Audition and helped a friend graduate. Sat at the dinner table with his dad, Carol and Finn, he allowed himself to celebrate his splendid performance, Madame Tibideaux's words of praise, and the possibility of being accepted in his dream school getting ever closer.