As I walk along a random sidewalk on campus on my way back to my dorm, I reflect a bit on the past semester. It's mid-December now and I have just a few more days until I'm halfway done with my first year of college. It's been almost four months since I left my little hometown and everyone in it for the bright lights and big names in the city. And even though it's been a while, I have been doing my best to let it all go. Yes, loving and being loved by him was one of the best feelings in the world, but I know that playing for a packed house filled with adorers will feel even better. Yes, I still love him, but I understand now that I have to focus and I can't let anyone or anything stand in my way. I hear my phone buzz so I take a quick look at the number, answer it and walk and talk.
"Hey there cutie!" I exclaim as Kurt laughs on the other end.
"Well, someone's in a great mood."
"You know, I really am."
"And, it's about to get better, because I can currently see you."
"What?!" I exclaim as I approach my dorm building and see him standing out front. Before I know it I'm wrapped up in a huge hug and being spun around. I laugh and place my phone back into my bag.
"Have you had lunch yet?" He asks. Classic boy, only worried about the food.
"No, but I know just where to go." I take his arm and start to walk toward a restaurant just a few blocks from my dorm.
"So, what are you doing here?" I begin the endless list of questions in my head.
"Well, the project is ahead of schedule, so boss gave us a little extra Christmas break." Kurt isn't in school, he's interning for this crazy secret film project that he's not even allowed to talk about, but he's working with these two huge filmmakers so he'll be able to go to any film school he wants next year. "So, I just had to come visit my favorite future piano star."
"Aren't we a pair, a future famous filmmaker and pianist?" He laughs.
"Don't worry, you can write all the music for all my movies." That throws me way off. And my face must instantly fall because Kurt can automatically tell.
"What?" he asks. I'm not looking at him, staring at my shoes instead.
"I don't write my own stuff, I mean, I'm just not that great at it." It's the most embarrassing to admit because pretty much everyone at school or any other music school writes their own stuff.
"But, didn't you have to write a piece for as part of your audition, and it was pretty great, I mean, they let you in, right?" I sigh, and answer in a voice barely louder than a mummer
"Finn wrote it." I sit down on a bench on the sidewalk, as the tears silently roll, trying not to be noticed. "I'm a fraud, he wrote it, and I can't write. I shouldn't even be here." I choke out. He leans against the back of the bench and stares into the trees behind us.
"Well, I must say that I'm impressed, that was a gorgeous score. I mean I knew he wrote some tunes sometimes, but that was next level." Then he turns his head to me, "And you, Rachel, little-miss-perfect, lied to the best music school in the country. I'm awestruck, yet impressed." He smiles.
"I've tried, it's just…nothing good comes out. Everyone says they get inspired from personal experiences, and you think with all the hell he put me through, I could write something…"
"The hell he put you through?!" he asks, taken aback and sounding suddenly bitter.
"Well, yeah I thought we were going to go to school together and have the whole happily ever after bit, but he-"
"He made you go to the best music school in the country which he helped you get into, what a terrible guy. Oh, no, he wanted you to live your dreams what a disgrace of a person."
"What are you saying; you're supposed to be on my side. You're my best friend. And you avoid him in public." I'm yelling at him.
"Well, if you didn't notice, he was my best friend long before he or I knew you, and I don't avoid him, I avoid you both whenever you're together!" That stops me.
"Wait, what?" By now I'm standing as we're both leaning over in each other's faces, only the bench keeping us apart. But I lean back at this statement and he comes around front to sit.
"Finn and I were inseparable for years, but then sophomore year comes around and suddenly he's got a new girlfriend, and don't get me wrong Rachel, I like you, I really do, but he wants to spend every waking moment with you and that didn't leave any time for me. So, yeah I hated you at first, super jealous that some girl took my best friend. Then he got all excited because he just knew me and you would be great friends, so I did it for him. I became friends with you only to try to spend more time with him and to get my best friend back." Now, I'm really crying.
"So, you're not really my friend."
"I didn't say that."
"Actually Kurt, you did, that's exactly what you said." I take off back to my dorm not daring to turn around. The tears gone and the anger setting in.
"And you know what?" I scream after him, "I have all the anger in the world to write with now!"
All the confidence it took so long to get back once again shattered. I've lost everything. My best friend, my boyfriend; I have no friends in New York, everything I had worked so hard for, gone. Well at least I finally have something to fuel my writing fire…maybe. As I enter my dorm building I pass a bulletin board filled with an array of colored flyers. Usually I can just pass by without a glance, but one white paper typed in elegant script catches my eye. I rip the flyer off the board.
"Perfect" I announce to the empty hallway with a smirk. This is just what I need.