Someone tell me when is it my turn. Don't I get a dream for myself?
"Okay guys, so this is our new song!" Kurt said cheerfully as he plopped some sheet music onto the table.
Blaine was sitting on the couch, watching Pamela Lansbury rehearse over a mug of tea and his homework.
"Le Jazz Hot," Elliott said. "Very…um…Broadway."
"Kurt loves Broadway," Rachel said, smiling.
"I've noticed. We've done three Broadway songs in the last two weeks," Elliott said.
"I have a question. Why does Kurt get to pick all of the songs?" Santana asked.
Kurt sighed. "Santana, I told you, we're not doing Talk Dirty," he said.
"No, that's not even the point anymore. Whatever we suggest you automatically veto. What's your problem?" she asked.
"This is my band!" Kurt said.
Everyone, including Blaine stared at him in shock.
"I mean, I came up with the idea for a band, I held the auditions. Right, Blaine?" he asked.
"I'm staying out of this," Blaine said.
"Look, how about we take the night off and um, some of us can…reevaluate certain choices?" Elliott suggested.
"Fine by me. I have rehearsal anyways," Rachel said.
"Which means I do, too," Santana said.
"Um, I'm just going to leave," Elliott said.
Kurt turned to Blaine. "You're loads of help," he said.
"Thank you," Blaine said, smiling.
"But it was my idea!" Kurt defended.
"I know," Blaine said. He clearly didn't want any part of the argument, so he left it at that.