Back at the hotel, the kids gather in Aphasia's suite while their parents meet downstairs.
"What do you think they'll decide?" Rory asks worriedly. Worst case scenario, his father will decide one thing and Sugar's moms will decide another, separating him from his crush.
Beth's not entirely sure why her mother looks as Ms. Berry that way, but she does know it's different than the way she looks at Beth's father. She looks over at Harmony. "My mom will just agree with your mom."
"I don't want to leave Lima. I'd miss my friends," Harmony reasons.
"You have friends besides us?" Sugar asks her, but doesn't wait for a reply. "Anyway, I vote Chicago so I don't have to exclusively shop online. Plus with my perfect credit score we could all share an apartment of our own."
Aphasia's adaptable; she'll be fine anywhere she goes. It's Sam she's worried about. In her mind, stripping is an addiction that he could easily fall back into if they move here. "This place ain't all it's cracked up to be," she says.
"I'm not above blackmailing my moms into bribing you," Sugar warns.
"Everyone in favor of staying in Lima, raise your hand," Harmony says.
Three hands go up immediately.
Rory counts them. "Looks like we're outnumbered, Sug."
"Un-freaking-believable," Sugar mutters under her breath.
Downstairs in the hotel bar, the adults are having a difficult time accomplishing anything.
"We'd like another round," Quinn tells Dave the bartender. "Put 'em on Santana's tab."
Well, they have accomplished one thing… getting tipsy.
"Coming right up," he says. "Hey, is your friend single?"
"Who? Rachel?" Quinn asks defensively. "She's — taken."
Dave leans in closer. "I was actually talking about your guy friend. Not the one you're avoiding and not the one who looks like a gym rat. The fashionable one."
"Kurt?" Quinn laughs. "Yeah, he's available. You should ask him for his number."
He smiles. "I think I will. No risk, no reward. Right?"
"Right," she says. Normally she's an angry drunk, but whatever Dave the bartender poured her is giving her liquid courage. She feels bold so she pulls Rachel aside. "I have to tell you something," she says, "I lo—"
"Alright, bitches," a slurring Santana interrupts, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders, "time to get this meeting started."
"Is this how you conduct all your business meetings?" Quinn asks, seething.
"No, we have different vices," Santana says with a wink, leading them over to the rest of the group. "Let's get this over with. Opening statements?"
Sam raises his hand.
"Yeah?" Santana calls on him.
"Shouldn't we wait until Mercedes can be here? I haven't been able to reach her on her phone and—"
"This is an emergency!" Santana says.
Sam swallows. He doesn't want anything to jeopardize his relatively new relationship with his stepdaughter, but he knows he has her best interests at heart. Besides, Mercedes trusted him to bring Aphasia on this trip. He raises his hand again. "Where's the bathroom? I have to pee."
They all decide to take a bathroom break — that way their bladders won't interfere with the meeting. For a few minutes, at least.
"As the only person who's been on Broadway, I'd like to start by saying that the kids need an instructor who is going to push them," Kurt says. "Sue pushed us when we were growing up."
"Yeah, literally pushed us," Santana adds. "She also yanked my earlobes."
"I don't want to subject Harmony to that kind of abuse ever again," Rachel says.
"Roz would never lay a hand on her students," Brittany points out. "She's strict, but fair. She'll make them work, but she won't overwork them."
"I think we can all agree we're not moving to Chicago, Britt," Quinn says. "Right, Rachel?"
"Right," Rachel chimes in.
"Then we should convince her to move to Lima," Brittany shrugs. It's such a simple solution and between her and Santana they have enough money to make it worth Roz's while.
"Text her," Santana suggests.
Brittany gets out her phone and types out a message.
I got a way u can make lots of $$$$$$.
Whatever it is, Brittany Susan Pierce, my answer is hellllll no, Roz replies moments later.
"She's not interested," Brittany sighs.
"Then I propose we open our own dance studio," Santana says. "Besides, I could use a legit business."
"What does she mean by legit?" Rachel whispers in Quinn's ear.
"She's a crack dealer," Quinn jokes.
Rachel shakes her head. "That explains so much."
Brittany glares at Rachel. "Aren't you a prostitute?" she asks.
Rachel is shocked. "I'm a nurse! Brittany, I was wearing my scrubs when I first saw you this morning."
Brittany shrugs. "So?"
"Can we please get back to my idea?" Santana says. "Sam in all his infinite stripper wisdom can teach pole dancing classes."
"I can?"
"You will," Santana insists. "Kurt can teach a theatre class since he knows about that Broadway bullshit. Quinn, you were better than most of us at ballet."
"What can I do?" Rachel asks.
"Not much. You probably can't even afford a decent portion of the company. Britt and I will own 51%, Kurt 19%, Quinn 19%, Mercedes and Sam 19%, Jesse 7%, and you can have whatever is left."
Rachel does the math in her head. "I don't think there's anything left. That adds up to more than 100."
"Whatever. We'll figure it out later," Santana says. "Meeting adjourned."
Kurt wanders over to the bar where Dave is giving him the eye. "Sam, do you mind if Rory stays in your suite tonight?" he asks.
Sam wraps an arm around a drunk Jesse's waist, helping him stand upright. "Don't worry, Kurt. I got ya," he says to Kurt, who nods in appreciation. Sam takes a step toward the door, struggling a little under Jesse's wait. "When did you get so drunk, bro?"
"The second I realized my wife doesn't love me anymore," Jesse admits.
Sam looks over at Quinn, who is leaning close towards Rachel. "Maybe all she wants is someone to be there for her."
"I don't think that's the case," Jesse says sadly.
"What am I going to do, Quinn? Harmony will know I'm drunk!" Rachel panics. She's never even had a sip of alcohol around her daughter who will definitely know something's amiss.
"Relax," Quinn comforts her, "it'll be okay. Take this key upstairs to room 321 and take a shower. I'll get the girls from Sam's." She doesn't relish the thought of helping Sam take Jesse back to the suite, but it's the least she can do for her estranged husband. After all, he's great with Beth.
"Let me help," Quinn says to Sam, supporting Jesse from the other side.
"Thanks," Sam grunts as they make their way over to the elevator.
Jesse's head bobbles around to face her. "Quinn?"
"I'm here," she says.
Jesse hiccups. "Yeah, but I never was."
"Okay, now's not the time for drunken confessions and apologies," she says, giving Sam a helpless look. The elevator door opens and they drag Jesse inside.
"Who said anything about confessions? Do you have something to confess?" he asks.
"You two can talk about it tomorrow," says Sam, pushing the button for his floor.
"There you are," Santana says once they step off the elevator. She's an impatient woman and she and Brittany have been waiting outside Sam's suite for a few minutes now. They must've caught the first elevator upstairs.
Sam ignores her, takes his key card out of his pocket, and opens the door. He dumps Jesse onto the pullout couch, not even bothering to pull it out since Jesse's already drooling.
Hand in hand, Santana and Brittany open the door to Aphasia's room where they are met with the sweetest sight — all four girls asleep on the bed and Rory curled up on the floor.
"Why is Sugar clutching a stack of hundred dollar bills?" Brittany asks her wife.
"That little thief! She must've snagged it from my purse," Santana says. It's hard to be angry with her when she looks so sweet, however. "C'mon, let's go. We have our room to ourselves."
"Sam, you sure you're okay with all of them sleeping in here?" Quinn asks.
He smiles. "It's fine. Enjoy the rest of your night. I'm going to try calling Mercedes again."
Quinn walks into room 321 just as Rachel is making her way out of the bathroom in just a towel. "They—the girls—were already asleep," she stammers.
"At least we don't have to share beds," Rachel jokes. She tugs at her towel, making sure it's still secure around her body. "Or... we could."
"Pardon?" Quinn coughs.
"I'm just saying... I hate not sharing a bed." Rachel looks at the ground. "Being a single parent is lonely."
Quinn frowns. "Yeah, I'm starting to realize that. Rachel—"
Rachel is quick to cut her off. "I feel like I have this connection with you that I don't with the other parents. You're the only one who actually listens to me when I speak. Please, Quinn. I just need some kind of closeness tonight."
"Okay," Quinn says against her better judgment, "we can share a bed."
"April, it's that time again."
"Happy hour?" April guesses.
"No," Sandy singsongs. "It's time for the individual competition!"
"And then it's happy hour!" April adds enthusiastically, ignoring the cue cards in favor of her own dialogue.
Sandy smacks his hand to his forehead. "Let's just get this over with."
"Does that guy look familiar to you?" Brittany asks Santana in the audience.
Santana squints, trying to remember. "That's totally the guy we bought weed from when we lived here," she says.
"Righteous," Brittany replies.
"First up in the age 8 to 10 category, we have Little Miss Harrrrrrrrmony!" Sandy steps aside so that Harmony can take the stage, but April remains firmly rooted to her spot.
"Just go around me," she tells Harmony. "I don't trust myself to walk in a straight line and my PO's itchin' to send me back to the slammer."
"This trip keeps getting better and better," Santana laughs as Harmony begins her routine.
"Get off the stage!" Rachel yells.
Harmony gives her mother an incredulous look.
"Not you, honey, that crazy woman!" Rachel clarifies. She leans forward in her seat. "The judges better not take off points for that," she says to Santana. Then she gestures wildly for Harmony to smile.
Brittany rolls her eyes.
"April, why are you on the ground?" Sandy asks as Harmony's performance ends.
"I'm doin' the worm!" April says.
Sandy watches for a moment. "You're not even moving. Oh, now you're just face planting."
"This is what I miss when I'm backstage?" Aphasia asks Sam, thankful she chose not to compete today.
"I guess so," he whispers.
Sandy sighs. "Let's bring on the next contestant." He looks at his note cards. "Everybody, please welcome Little Miss Rory!"
Rory peeks his head from the wings. "I think there's been some mistake," he tells Sandy. "I'm no little miss."
"Hey, who says you can't be?" Sandy says, placing a hand on Rory's shoulder.
Rory contemplates what Sandy just said. "If I dance now, do I have to dance again later when the other boys compete?"
"I won't subject you to that humiliation twice, Tiny Dancer," Sandy says. He points to April. "Now watch out for Speed Bump over there."
Rory takes a deep breath and reminds himself why he's doing this in the first place: his father, who is… Nowhere to be found. "This goes out to my dad," he says before he begins, just in case Kurt is somewhere in the audience.
Santana scans the audience as well. "It's not like Kurt to miss Rory's Irish step dance."
"I know. He's the biggest stage parent of us all," says Brittany. She side eyes Rachel. "Well, second biggest."
Quinn turns around in her seat. "Bet you ten bucks he's still in his hotel room with the bartender."
"Double or nothing he's hungover," Santana wagers. "The boys' individuals don't start until 2. He's probably getting coffee now. I hope Sugar likes hers."
Brittany nods. "Did you make it like she likes it?"
"They ran out of non-dairy creamer so I had to use half-and-half. What was I supposed to do?"
Brittany bites her nails. "She's gonna be so pissed! Now we'll have to buy her more stuff."
"Have you ever tried telling her no?" Quinn asks.
Brittany and Santana shake their heads.
"Maybe you should start."
Rory's performance ends and Sandy claps. "Thank you, Little Mr. Rory! Before you go, can you make sure April still has a pulse?"
April burps in her sleep.
Sandy winces. "Never mind."
"Holy shit," Aphasia says.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage… Little Miss Sugar!"
"Ha! What name of a kind is Sugar?" April mumbles into her microphone. Apparently now awake, she manages to sit up. "Either the room is spinnin' or I am."
Sugar barges over to her and pulls a bill out of her costume. "Here's a Benji. Now get the hell off my stage. You're ruining my moment!"
April snatches the money and scrambles off the stage as fast as her tired, weary legs can take her.
"I'm feeling a bit faint myself. Got any more C notes?" Sandy asks.
Sugar wrinkles her nose.
"It was worth a shot," Sandy says. "Right. Once again, please give a round of applause to... Little Miss Sugar!"
The audience cheers wildly, much to Quinn's surprise. Little does she know that Santana paid a few dozen people to give Sugar some encouragement.
In the wings, Roz Washington laughs at the lengths Santana and Brittany go to just to make their daughter happy.
A/N: Only two more chapters left!