Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

A/N: Title stolen from For Good from Wicked. Belated fills for Hummelberry Week on tumblr. Today's theme: cisgirl!Kurt and cisboy!Rachel.


"I want to be Maria," Claire said quietly.

Ray's head snapped up, abandoning their pre-audition screening of West Side Story. They'd both been estatic when the musical choice had been announced, but other than Ray declaring that he was going to be the best Tony to grace the stage since Larry Kert, they hadn't discussed casting. Pausing the movie and turning to face his best friend, Ray looked Claire over.

"I thought you wanted to be Anybodys," he said cautiously.

Once, towards the tail end of sophomore year, they'd discussed their dream roles. Ray, always confident in his own ability, picked the male leads every time. For the most part, Claire liked characters that were interesting, even if they were second string. That's why Ray didn't understand why she picked Anybodys when they got down to West Side Story. Now, Claire was curled into herself on the bed, staring at her own knees.

"It will look good on my NYADA application," Claire said slowly, "And it would show everyone our stupid school that I'm not just some weirdo with short hair."

"I like your short hair," Ray supplied automatically, then added, "And you'll make a wonderful opposite to my Tony."

Claire smiled and hugged him tightly. "I love you, Raymond Berry."

"Love you, too," he replied. They cuddled for the rest of the movie.


He was flipping through a wedding magazine, trying to pick out tuxedo for the upcoming wedding. Just as he started to debate the merits of bow ties versus neck ties, someone slammed their hands down on the table. Looking up, Ray found himself nose to nose with an enraged looking Claire.

"Are you insane?" she snarled, voice so high it made the hairs on Ray's arms stand up.

Taking a deep breath, he slid the magazine under his English textbook and smiled. "How are you today, Claire?"

"I'm terrific despite the fact you're getting ready to elope with my sister!"

Well. Clearly, Fiona didn't understand that the main point of eloping meant avoiding the confrontations with their respective families. They would have to have a talk about it, Ray decided. The few stragglers in the library we're staring at them, so he started to pack up his bag and head for the door. Claire was hot on his heels, demanding to know where he was going.

"I think this is a conversation best saved for the choir room," Ray said diplomatically, only to have his arm nearly pulled out of its socket. Claire had stopped them in the middle of the hallway and her voice was dangerously quiet.

"I know you love Fiona, but you can't just marry her like it doesn't mean anything!"

Ray recoiled, because between the look in Claire's eyes and the tone of her voice, the accusation hurt. How could she think that getting married didn't mean anything to him? He'd loved Fiona for years and marrying her only made sense now that it was time for them to think about their future. Even when he told Claire this, her expression didn't soften.

"It's a bad idea, Ray. You know it is and you've probably known since you asked her."

"Fiona asked me."

That didn't make Claire apologize, but it did seem to stun her long enough that Ray could escape to his next class.


Principal Figgins was opening the envelope for prom king and calling his name. Ray felt his stomach twist into a painful knot, because it was obvious that history was repeating itself. This was another awful prank by the kids at school and he was going to go up there and get laughed at. Figgins called his name again and Fiona gave him an encouraging little push.

"You can do this," she told him, beaming.

The room was silent as Ray made his way across the gym, up to the stage where Claire was waiting for him. She looked so pretty in her prom dress, hair framing her face in soft curls. Her chin had a determined tilt and there was a look of defiance in her eyes as she took the plastic crown from Figgins and placed it one Ray's head.

"Just smile and breathe," she told him, a careful whisper as Figgins announced that Fiona would be prom queen.

He loved his fiancee and the way she kissed him once before they began the obligatory king and queen dance. Out of the corner of his eye, Ray could see his friends dancing and smiling. This was the type of prom that people dreamed about: getting crowned and sharing the spotlight with the girl he loved. Except, every now and then, Ray caught sight of someone snickering behind their hands and the magic of the evening was lost.


They were packing up Ray's room, carefully sorting his things into piles of 'Bring to New York', 'Leave at Home', and 'Donate'. Neither one of them talked much beyond the occasional requests to pass the tape or comment about some of the more unique pieces of Ray's wardrobe. Finally, when his childhood room had been reduced to a mountain of cardboard boxes, Ray turned to Claire and said, "I'm sorry."

She had been picking through his donation pile, looking for clothes that she could salvage for projects. When he spoke, Claire dropped the sweater vest she had been holding and pursed her lips. Every since he had come back from New York, they had danced around the subject of NYADA. Both of them were painfully aware of the fact that Claire had thrown out all her other college applications after her audition. Now, she'd spent the week while Ray was in the city scrambling to find an internship or job or anything that would take her to New York for the fall.

"It's not like you getting accepted meant that they cut me," Claire finally said.

After she got the rejection letter, she had turned that into her mantra. It wasn't Ray's fault that she didn't get it. She had to remind herself of that fact constantly or else she knew she'd hate him, which wasn't fair. Ray crossed the room, wrapping her in his arms and holding her tight. "I'm still sorry that you didn't get it. You deserved it so much."

There was a quip on the tip of her tongue: she may have deserved it, but NYADA didn't deserve her. But between the smell of Ray's terrible cologne engulfing her and the visible proof that her best friend was leaving, all the snark melted away. When she started to cry instead, Ray kept holding onto her.