Not insulted in the slightest, nek0-sama! Hope I kind of fixed it in the last chapter a little? Anyway, glad everyone likes it so far... thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! I love reviews. I could read them all day long. –Sigh–

16: As Long As I'm Singing (Brian Setzer Orchestra)

Kurt donned his Marc Jacobs suit jacket, straightening the sleeves nervously. Meeting Ryan's parents was probably going to be incredibly awkward, but he had committed himself to being pleasant in front of them, whether they were snobby folks or not. He could only hope that Ryan took after his parents, and Sharpay didn't, for while he very much enjoyed Barbie's company because they were two of a kind, he did not want to make the same impression on Ryan's parents as he had on Ryan's sister. It was just different. He had to behave.

The knock on his door startled him from his thoughts, and he took one last glance the mirror (he was perfect, as always) before crossing the room to answer it. Sharpay stood in the hall, her hands occupied by holding a pocket mirror to her face, looking for any imperfections on her pale skin. (There weren't any.) She snapped it closed and looked at him as she slipped it back into her purse, her eyes appreciative.

"You're right," was the first thing she said, "That is a nice suit."

Kurt smiled and modeled it for her, doing a quick spin in the doorway. "It's from Marc Jacobs' new collection, La Sophisticate." He paused, admiring her choice of dress as well. "Nice dress, by the way. You have good taste... you know, for a Barbie."

She made a face, but seemed to appreciate the compliment at any rate. She offered him her arm and he took it like a true gentleman, leading her down the hall. Ryan was already backstage, preparing for his New York debut— Kurt could almost see him freaking out about the lack of hats in his scene, or biting his nails over whether or not Peter and Jackson would remember their steps when it mattered.

The short walk to the auditorium was refreshing; the air was cool, but not cold, and a soft breeze gently ruffled his hair. The night was clear, and the moon shone brightly, the soft crescent giving them light to walk by as they made their way down the path. Sharpay sighed, leaning into him, and Kurt smiled. This was nice. Sharpay wasn't all that awful once you got used to her.

The auditorium was packed with parents and student prospects for the following year, as well as critics and casual viewers. Kurt was glad that Ryan had gotten them reserved seats in the second row, giving them an excellent view of the enormous stage. He led Sharpay to their seats, and she took hers daintily, straightening the hem of her dress as she sat. They settled in, the two seats to Kurt's left suspiciously empty; Kurt felt a slight stirring in the pit of his stomach. The Evans would show up, right?

"Oh, look, there's Mother," Sharpay said suddenly, looking over her shoulder. Kurt recognised her immediately, even though he'd never met her; the blonde hair and facial features betrayed her relation to the twins. He saw her looking confusedly around the large auditorium, her eyes sweeping the seats as she stood alone in the aisle.

"I'll get her," Kurt said as Sharpay moved to get up, waving his hand to tell her to sit. He scooted out of the row and walked to Mrs. Evans, stopping about a foot from her. "Mrs. Evans?" he asked, and she looked at him. "My name's Kurt Hummel. I'm—"

"Oh! Duckie has told me all about you." She shook his hand in a friendly way, and Kurt automatically got the feeling that Ryan mostly resembled his mother. "And please, call me Derby." She smiled beautifully, her eyes sweeping the room again.

"Our seats are this way," Kurt told her, taking her arm like he had taken her daughter's, leading her gently down the aisle to their reserved seats. Mrs. Evans sat beside Sharpay, and Kurt sat down beside her; the open seat on his other side was not left unnoticed by anyone in their small group, but neither Kurt nor Mrs. Evans seemed to want to mention it. Sharpay, however, was not so quiet.

"Where's Daddy?" Sharpay asked, her smile faltering ever so slightly. Her mother sighed, settling her purse in her lap and getting comfortable before answering.

"Something came up, Kitten. He... asked me to videotape it for him." She took a digital camera from her purse, holding it carefully in her small hands. Sharpay's smile was gone completely, her jaw set in a tight line.

"Business, I'm assuming?"

"I'm sorry, Kitten. He tried to cancel, but there was an emergency in Shanghai—"

Sharpay raised her hand to stop her mother's explanation, shaking her head. "I'm not the one that needs apologising to, and you're not the one who should be apologising. Just smile and watch Ryan perform; I don't think Ry was really expecting him to be here, anyway."

The air seemed tense, and Kurt felt as if he was intruding on a private moment. He knew that the fact that Mr. Evans wasn't attending would not be all that much of a surprise to Ryan, though it would hurt him all the same. He wouldn't show it, he might not even mention it, but it would be a major disappointment. He had gotten his hopes up, and his father had— probably not for the first time— let him down. Kurt sighed and shook his head. All this was very confusing.

Once all the seats were filled (well, most of them; the one beside Kurt remained notably empty), the lights dimmed. Sharpay examined the programme she had been handed at the door, looking up when her brother would be making his appearances, since she hadn't yet seen him perform like Kurt had.

The lights were lowered, and the first skit began. Kurt fidgeted in his seat, straightening his collar and smoothing the front of his jacket. When Ryan walked onto the stage in the second scene, his eyes unconsciously shifted to the second row. Derby and Sharpay gave him sympathetic smiles, their eyes apologising for the empty seat. Ryan seemed not to notice the absence, but that was because he was an excellent actor— his lines were delivered perfectly, but his mind was elsewhere.

The moment he hit that first note, his feet moving into that first step of the music number, he seemed to relax; being in his element, Ryan could no longer worry about the stresses of his life outside of that dance. His feet moved of their own accord, his voice flawlessly hitting the notes he and Kurt had been practicing for so long; who cared if his father couldn't see it? This was his moment. Ryan sung and danced his heart out on that stage. When they last note faded, there was a round of applause; Ryan grinned.

Everything went smoothly after that; even Peter and Jackson stayed true to Ryan's choreography, not missing the step that had gone so wrong in the dress rehearsal. When the entire cast came onto the stage to do their final bows, the crowd was on their feet in a thundering standing ovation.

After the crowd had been thanked for attending by Professor DiBucci, they became swarming mass of bodies toward the exit. Kurt, Sharpay and Mrs. Evans stayed put, letting the back of the room file out before they even got up from their seats, content to wait until there was room to breathe in the aisles.

Ryan approached them quite soon after the performance was done and greeted his mother with a finger-kissing ritual that made Kurt raise his eyebrows; no other eighteen-year-old boy he knew would ever do that in public, and it made him admire Ryan more for his bravery.

"You were wonderful, Duckie," Derby told him, hugging her son warmly.

"Yeah, Duck," Sharpay said sarcastically, "Not bad for your first solo gig." By solo, of course, she meant without her; but he took the statement at face value, thanking her for the compliment and hugging her.

"So, I'm assuming Father had a good reason for not being here?" Ryan asked his mother, as soon as they were free of the crowd, standing by the stage with a small group of other performers and their parents. Derby patted her son's arm lovingly, shrugging her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Duckie, something—"

"—important came up," he finished for her, his lips pulled into a thin line. "I'm assuming you taped it for him?" Derby nodded, trying offer comfort.

"He really wanted to be here, Duckie. He really tried—"

"He always does," Ryan commented, and not without a touch of bitterness in his voice. Kurt felt helpless, touching Ryan's arm comfortingly. Ryan put his arm around Kurt's shoulders in an attempt at telling Kurt that he was fine. Kurt knew better.

"I'm sure he'll make the next one, Ryan," Sharpay said briskly, her hands fiddling with her clutch. "You know how he is—"

"Excuse me," an unfamiliar voice said from behind them, startling Sharpay into silence. Ryan turned to look at the speaker, who a man in his late forties, with greying dark hair and an expensive-looking Armani suit. His tie looked a little too tight, leaving a red ring around his thick neck, and his eyes were crinkled in the corners with friendly laugh lines. He smiled and Ryan, then looked down at the programme from the show he had in his hands.

"You're, eh, Ryan Evans, right?"

Ryan looked at the man questioningly, raising his eyebrows and removing his arm from around Kurt. "Yes. And you are...?"

"Roman Coppola." He offered his hand to shake, and Ryan took it, shooting his mother a worried glance. "May I, eh, have a word?" Ryan was led away by Mr. Coppola, leaving his sister and mother looking at each other with matching expressions of surprise.

"Coppola," Mrs. Evans said thoughtfully, "He couldn't be related to Francis Ford Coppola, could he?"

"The guy who directed The Godfather? No way!" Sharpay craned her neck to look over to where her brother was talking with Mr. Coppola by the stage, his smile growing every second. "Why do you think he wants to talk to Ryan?"

Ryan shook the older man's hand excitedly, accepting a business card before ambling back to his family, his expression a mix of shock and surreal bewilderment. They looked at him expectantly, and Ryan glanced at the business card held loosely in his hand before answering.

"Mr. Coppola came to see his nephew perform. He's directing a movie, and they just lost one their leads to another production," Ryan said slowly, licking his lips and looking at his sister with slightly widened eyes. "He... he wants me to call him, so that I can... schedule an audition."

The eruption that was Sharpay's excited scream could be heard all the way across campus, Kurt would later swear. "Ryan!" she yelled, dropping her clutch in her excitement and bouncing up and down on the balls of her heels. "This is... amazing!"