"Let's get this meeting started guys," Trent bid, smacking the gavel down. He reached over with his free hand to swat at Jeff when he snickered at the action. He was not trying to imitate Wes, but truly the distinctive sound was the easiest way to draw the attention of a roomful of teenage boys.
"Are we going to talk about Regionals today?" one of their younger members, a freshman named Louis asked.
"Yeah, lets!" a few agreed.
From the corner of his eye, Trent saw Kurt smile, and he could understand why. Last year such interruptions would have been unheard of, none daring to interrupt the council as it was bringing the meeting to order. They truly were inspiring change. "We are," he confirmed, smiling himself when a few cheers went around the room.
"Did they announce the theme yet?" Phillip asked.
"Well I would say it if you guys gave me a chance," he retorted, his voice teasing.
"Unfortunately for us single folks," Jeff said, speaking up, "the competition organisers don't know that it is quite passé to celebrate things after the fact."
"Our theme is love," Kurt said quickly, diverting attention to the rather harsh edge to Jeff's tone. "And, as Jeff was leading into, we have a bit of a problem to wrangle with with this theme."
"We need to find some original way of depicting this rather overdone theme both in our songs and in our choreography," Trent finished.
"Who's the third team," someone asked.
"We're going up against New Directions and The Renegades."
"They sound dangerous."
The group shared a laugh at that statement.
"We got the figures from the last competition as well today," Kurt stated, waving a print out in the air. "While we should not discount The Renegades as a threat, I'm pretty much certain that it's going to come down to a fight between the Directioners and us. We came out with the highest scores overall from all the Ohio sectionals competition-" Kurt broke off as they all cheered.
"They're presenting us with a trophy for that at Regionals," Jeff pipped up, resulting in a new wave of cheering.
"But," Kurt continued, after order had somewhat been restored," New Directions came in third behind Vocal Adrenaline."
"That's good isn't it?"
"It is and it isn't," Kurt said honestly. "Now, you guys know I was on their team when I was in Mckinley and I'm going to be brutally honest here. Rachel Berry is the one to beat on that team vocal wise, and they did not utilise her to full potential at Sectionals. I am telling you that their vocal scores would have been a lot higher had they given her the usual solo and main female lead roles. Mr. Shue is going to risk the group's ire and give her these said roles this time around."
"How did our vocal scores look?"
"Twenty five out of thirty," Jeff said. "Vocal Adrenaline beat us there. They got twenty seven. New Directions got twenty one."
"What we definitely got them beat on is choreography," Trent added. "We scored a solid ten points over them there. We notched out Vocal Adrenaline by one point in that regard and crowd response put us over the edge. I hate to say it guys, but overall we beat Vocal Adrenaline by just two points. And while we had a rather comfortable victory margin against the New Directions, if Kurt is right, and trust me, I remember the whitewash we collected from them in the last Regionals well, we are in for stiff competition. We need to work as hard, if not harder than we did against Vocal Adrenaline."
"We don't have the element of surprise on our hands anymore," Kurt agreed, a bit saddened at the subdued look on the boys' faces but it was needed. They had to take this seriously. "No one expected us to ditch the Acapella route and to come with that level of choreography. If Vocal Adrenaline had, I am telling you they would have pulled out all the stops and we might not even be having this conversation now. We want to go to Nationals guys, but trust me, New Directions want this as much as we do, so it's going to come down to which team works that little bit harder to get the edge."
"Originality is one of those ways," Trent told them, "everything from our songs to our moves to the costumes we wear are going to have to tell the story of love in some innovative way. We've tasted victory by making it to the finals of the Acappella competition, but excuse me for being greedy by saying I want two Finals to be stressing over come May. Are you guys with me?" he asked.
"We are!" Phillip declared, a large smile on his face, "come on guys, we thought that going up against Vocal Adrenaline would be suicide and we did it. Barely it seems, but we did it. We can do it again. This time we're going to take down the New Directions, and after that we're going to LA for the finals!"
"That's the attitude," Jeff said, and Trent wasn't too surprised at the flush that crossed Phillip's face.
"What do you say gentlemen," Kurt added, looking around the room, "are you ready to do this?"
A chorus of shouts echoed around the room and Kurt shared triumphant looks with his fellow council members. There was no real guarantee they would come out victorious at Regionals, but no one was going to accuse them of not trying their hardest to get there.
"Does anyone think they're making this year's Regionals a hell of a bigger deal?" Jeff asked, lacing his hand through Kurt's as they walked into the venue.
"Well, without Vocal Adrenaline in the competition, people actually don't know whose going to be representing Ohio this time," Kurt responded, before looking back to where Trent was coming up behind him with Phillip and George - the leader of the school's dance club - in tow.
It was two weeks from the competition, and all the teams were invited for a viewing of the performance stage. There was even an opportunity for the respective teams to book the area for two days each for final practice, something that they were eager to accept.
"It's weird though that they're letting us tour," Kurt stated, "something's probably up with that stage."
And that turned out to be the truth. They were accustomed to a bare stage of varying degrees, perhaps with a few steps in the back, but this set-up, it was indeed different. It wasn't that the stage was large - it was roughly equivalent to Dalton's, but it was multifaceted.
"They use here for plays, don't they?" Phillip asked, from Jeff's side. "Why else would they have balconies built in?"
"That island is a part of the stage too," George pointed out. Indeed, a few feet in front of the main stage, there was a circular elevated bit that looked capable of holding at least four people on it. Kurt moved away from them, gently freeing his hand from Jeff to explore it. There were steps leading down from the main stage and then there was a slight incline that led to the island. The entire theatre was rather circular in shape, so people moving back and forth would be in view.
"We definitely have to use that," Kurt declared.
"We do," Trent agreed. "I think those banisters can hold people as well."
Kurt turned to where he was pointing, only now realising that there was about eight feet of space between the stage and a short wall separating the audience. He was right; people would be comfortably able to walk or dance there.
"A layered choreography may be best," George said, his tone contemplative. "We definitely need to utilise most if not all of this. We can have people on the island and on the stage, maybe even a backwards movement between them. Phillip," he bid, "go on the island. See if you can get from there to the bannister easily.
George himself moved away from them to the edge of the stage, gauging the distance. Kurt barely held back a shout as the dark-skinned teen, after a moment, leapt forward, landing (barely in his opinion) on the bannister. Phillip, seconds later jumped off the island, and, more easily, landed on a bannister.
"Think we can do a flip off these?" he asked loudly, to George who was now performing a series of movements along the breadth of it, as if checking what it was capable of, "it's be more technical than a jump."
"The island to the bar definitely," he decided and suited action to words by doing a flip onto the island. "From the stage to here is a bit more risky. A few of the guys can manage it though, me including. Can't say I have the time to get the Warblers in shape for all this."
Phillip didn't answer, and instead turned, focussing on the balcony. "The highest one may be a problem, but the middle one has a ledge. That's what, twelve feet from the ground? A backward flip from that wouldn't be too bad."
"You guys did pretty awesome on the gymnastics moves," George agreed. "If we put three or four catchers on each side of the balcony, we can probably turn the landing into a lift. While they're in the air we can have people flipping onto the wall, and maybe some hip-hop moves and free-style on the island."
"You do realise they're talking about us," Kurt whispered to the other two, whose expressions thankfully were just as...apprehensive as his.
"Trent is currently re-considering asking the dance team for help," he admitted, drawing a snicker from Jeff at his third person reference to himself.
"Well the maximum team size is twenty five," Kurt mumbled, "and there is fifteen actual Warbler members. Let's just have the dance people do those things."
"We can hear you, you know."
"We want you to, Phillip," Jeff called back.
"You guys were worried about Sectionals and you managed fine," George told them, almost dismissively. "And that was before you all started joining us twice a week. You'll be fine. It may look like a lot now, but you guys have flipped and rolled these distances before. Now be good boys and open your books and start taking these measurements. We're going to have to re-create this stage in Dalton if we're going to safely do this on the day."
"Does he just walk around with measuring tape?" Jeff asked.
"I do. Start measuring."
"Dictator," Jeff murmured, and Kurt nudged him with his elbow, while Trent just silently opened his notepad to a clear page.
"My muscles have muscles," Kurt complained, twisting his body in an attempt to alleviate it. "Come here and give me a massage. Preferably with Icy Hot."
"My poor baby," Blaine cooed sympathetically, "it isn't too bad is it?"
"Nothing a week worth's of sleep won't cure. George is a dictator."
"You sound like Jeff."
"I don't care," Kurt groused. "We're going to start singing and dancing tomorrow. Blaine, this is hard."
"You want to go to Nationals, sweetheart. This is what it takes."
"We never worked so hard last year," Kurt protested.
"And we didn't win," Blaine said patiently, leaning back against his headboard and trying not to chuckle at Kurt's pout. "I know what soreness feels like babe. If it's too bad, I'm sure Finn will give you a massage."
"He's a meanie."
"He laughed at your pain," Blaine correctly guessed, entirely too amused by the glare Kurt directed at him.
"If you're going to be this uncooperative I will Skype with Jeff instead."
"Oh please don't!" Blaine said dramatically, holding his hands out pleadingly to the screen, "my night would be woefully incomplete without your beautiful face."
"That's right, know your place," Kurt replied, lifting his nose at him.
"You are being quite sassy you know."
"I can be whatever I want. I am sore and you are not here to massage me."
"I don't know Kurt. I may just decide to start a list of whenever you sass me and seek revenge the next time I see you."
"No tickles!" Kurt protested, chuckling when Blaine wriggled them at him. "How's your reading going?"
"Fine. I finished that chapter I needed to read before dinner. I'm all set for the group meeting in the morning. Did you get back your Chemistry test?"
"I got eight one."
"That's good sweetheart," Blaine praised, "Keep it up."
"Dalton's good at preventing Senioritis," Kurt admitted.
"Well, a lot of people don't realise that the schools are going to send along your final senior grades as well. If your SATs are great but you slack off too badly afterwards, the colleges may reconsider. It doesn't happen a lot, but why risk it?"
"I know, I know. We got that speech already. There's a few schools left that applications are still open for. Should I apply?"
Blaine furrowed his brows. "How many safety school applications have you sent out?"
"Ohio State and Boston College."
Blaine scratched his head. "Well one more safety school application wouldn't hurt. I wouldn't cross ten overall though. Your SAT scores are great sweetheart, and with Dalton you have no choice but to be a well-rounded student. I'm pretty certain you'll get accepted into most, if not all of these."
"Even Columbia?"
"Even Columbia," Blaine agreed, "so one more application if you really want it, and after that put it out of your mind okay? The next step will be interviews if anything, and I'll help you with those closer to the time."
"Yes sir."
"There's my good boy," Blaine teased. "Now why don't you go shower and get something more to eat hmm? Call me back when you're done."
"You just want to Skype with someone else."
"Guilty," he admitted, "it won't take too long and then I promise you'll have me to yourself."
"I may just decide to go watch tv with dad first."
Blaine laughed softly, "I don't doubt you will sweetheart." He was still smiling when he disconnected the call and immediately started one with Finn. "Hi," he greeted, a bit unnerved by the decidedly grim look on his face. "I got your text, but Kurt started a call as soon as I logged on. What's going on?"
"Rachel just doesn't know when to butt out," he grumbled, "and now we've got a situation to deal with."