Brian Kentwood ran his finger along the list that had been included into Kurt's school records one more time, as if the action alone would miraculously add in the name of the institution that was causing him confusion. He sighed, and closed the file with a snap, dropping his head back against the back of his chair. What exactly was going on here? He considered his options; it was nearly ten thirty. The students would have a twenty minute break soon and he could easily just request the secretary to call Kurt here to the administration office. Except…something told Brian that he was better off going above Kurt's head in this instance. This just didn't seem right, and it was definitely not a situation he wanted to stumble into blindly. Drumming his fingers against his desk for a minute or so, he decided that that indeed was the better option for now.

Putting action to his thoughts, Brian quickly located and dialled the number for the business place, knowing that he would faster get through to the man via that route than by trying a cell-phone he usually ignored during work times. It was only when he heard an urgent edge colour the receptionist's voice as she promised to call Burt did Brian regret not prefacing his words with "Kurt is fine". Dammit, he thought as he waited. He should have realised how it would have come across – an unexpected call in the middle of the day from his son's school. He wouldn't doubt that both Burt and the receptionist was worried now.

"There's nothing wrong with Kurt," he said quickly, the moment Burt came onto the line.

There was a brief moment of silence and even over the line, Brian could tell that an immediate wave of relaxation seeped into the senior Hummel's being. "That's a relief," Burt stated, "I got scared for a moment there Brian."

"Sorry," he apologised, "Kurt is fine. It's just that something's come up and I thought it would be better to talk to you about it first before going to Kurt."

"Ah…okay," Burt responded. "Wait…don't tell me he actually decided to go along with Sterling's Pyjama Tuesday idea?"

Brian groaned at that, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. His long-time student had taken to alternating between morose broodiness and advanced levels of mischief recently. Brian understood that Mr. Sterling was going through some trying times personally, and that allowances should be made, but, as dean of the seniors, he dreaded the extra labour Jeff's shenanigans often foisted upon him. "Thanks for the heads up on that," he said ruefully, "but…no, he isn't in any trouble. This is actually about college."

"Oh?"

"We received a request this morning. They want us to set up an interview with Kurt, and for us to forward his transcripts."

"It's a bit early for interviews, isn't it?"

"Yeah well, this school seems to work a bit differently. But, why I'm really calling Burt is that I don't understand why The New York Academy of Dramatic Arts is interested in Kurt. He never listed it on his list of schools and well…personally I know he's not interested in performing anymore. So I'm wondering how this has come about."

Brian politely pretended he did not hear the series of curses that passed across their connection before Burt finally spat out, "They're a damn persistent bunch!"

"What's going on?" he asked.

Brian could only sit there and listen with disbelief at the story that Burt then related to him. An only persistent ex-classmate of Kurt's had gone over everyone's heads and sent in an application for him? Did those things really happen in real life? "I thought I had set them straight last week when they called," Burt finished tiredly. "This interview thing must be tied into the audition Kurt's qualified for. I told the woman that he wasn't interested and to just drop it."

The aggravation in his voice was understandable. "Well he is eighteen," Brian explained, "so technically they didn't have to listen to you. I'm also guessing by your reaction that Kurt doesn't know about this?"

"He doesn't," he confirmed. "I didn't plan on telling him at all. I'd thought they'd just listen to me, realise that that application was sent without his knowledge or consent and let it drop. Kurt's given up on musical theatre and I don't want this to stir things back up for him. The kid's only got a few more months of school. I don't want him concerned with such miscellaneous things."

"I can understand that," Brian commiserated, "but...unless Kurt officially tells us not to, we have to follow up with the school and make provisions for the interview."

"You can't just pretend they didn't call?" he said, only half-joking.

"I wish I could do that," he told him honestly. "What do you want to happen? Should I talk to Kurt about it or would you rather me leave it to you?"

Burt was silent for several seconds. "It's a no-win situation either way," he said.

"Basically.

Burt sighed again. "This shouldn't be your responsibility."

"It's fine Burt. It's part of the territory."

"I'll tell you what," Burt said after a moment's consideration. "Can you schedule a meeting with him for later today? It's not too busy in the shop. I can be there and we can just hash this out together."

"That'll be great Burt," Brian agreed. "I'll see you then."

"So that's the situation bud." Burt said, looking at his son. Kurt was paler than usual, had been from the time he had realised exactly what the conversation was about. It was just one more reason Burt was looking forward to a conversation with the Berry seniors. They seriously needed to get a handle on their kid if she believed that she had the right to meddle with people's lives to this extent.

"Let me get this straight," Kurt eventually began, his voice thin and slightly shaky in a way that signalled that he was struggling to keep a check on her emotions, "Rachel applied to NYADA for me, and now they want me to audition for the school?"

"Basically," Mr. Kentwood responded. "Now the most important thing to note here Kurt is that you do not have to do this. You can say the word now and that will end this matter immediately. I will contact the school and inform them that you have decided against continuing the application process."

Kurt wasn't entirely focussed on his teacher's words though, too caught up in the realisation that NYADA of all places was showing some interest in him. "This must be a joke," he stated, mostly to himself.

"It isn't Kurt," Burt told him gently. "Look bud, I'm sorry this is happening, but now we've got to figure out what you want to do."

It was only when Burt carefully dropped a hand down onto Kurt's knee that he looked up at him. "I don't know what I want to do. I-I don't want to talk about this. Do I have to talk about this…and decide? Do I have to decide now?"

There was an edge of hysteria creeping into his tone that added a next nail to the coffin of Rachel Berry in Burt's mind. The bald man shot a questioning look at Mr. Kentwood, silently asking if he indeed needed to confirm a decision now.

"You don't have to," he responded immediately. "You have time Kurt."

"Thank you sir," Kurt said, but even as he said it, he started jiggling his leg agitatedly. "Daddy? Home now please? I don't want to be here right now."

Burt correctly interpreted his son's words as a plea for the solitude that his bedroom would provide him. His mind was too chaotic with the revelation; sitting in a classroom of boys trying to focus on work while also pretending that nothing was wrong was a bit above his capabilities right about now.

"Sure thing bud," he told him immediately. "Brian?"

"I'll organise a pass for him," he responded, rising. "Kurt, why don't you go and grab your stuff? It's Thursday anyway, so make sure to collect the materials you'll need for the weekend."

"Yes sir."

It was only when they had reached the perimeters of Lima that Kurt spoke, asking "Does Finn know about this?"

Burt, almost reluctantly, replied affirmatively. "Rachel had asked him to tape a performance of yours a while back. He'd told her off, but she went over his head."

Kurt huffed. "I knew she was upset that I didn't want to apply. But to do this?"

"Yeah…I didn't expect this from her. Makes me glad she and Finn really ended things for good."

"Blaine probably knows as well," Kurt continued in a musing tone. "That's probably what he and Finn were talking about. I knew they were hiding something from me."

"Don't be mad at them," Burt cautioned. "They just didn't want you to worry about this. Carole and I didn't want you to know about this either."

"I'm not upset daddy," Kurt told him, and Burt could sense the sincerity in his tone, "well not much. I'm a bit irritated that you guys don't trust me to handle these things, but I understand why."

"It's not us babying you, kiddo. We just don't want you set back, is all."

"I know," Kurt replied, "trust me I know. It's just...I'm not sixteen anymore you know? I've got to start to handle these things on my own. You guys can't protect me forever."

"And don't think that doesn't kill me," Burt admitted, swinging onto their street. "After Elizabeth...you became my reason for living bud. I swore to her that I would keep you safe from everything, no matter what. I failed you once and I promised myself to never let that happen again."

"You didn't fail me daddy. I-I should have said something long before it had gotten to that point."

"Should have made it that you weren't too worried to tell me about it."

"Going to start blaming yourself for all those bacon enriched sandwiches?" Kurt asked wryly and despite himself, Burt chuckled.

"I think we both go a bit far with the blame game, huh?"

"At times," Kurt allowed, watching as his dad parked the car.

"You're going to be okay, bud?" Burt asked seriously, clasping him on the shoulder.

"I have a lot of thinking to do," Kurt admitted. "I-you'd think that this would be a simple thing huh? But...a part of me is curious...like they want me to audition. That means they know about this and are still interested in me. It's weird huh."

"Kind of," Burt agreed, as they exited the vehicle. "Whatever you decide to do bud, just know that we'll all stand behind you, no matter what. Okay?"

"Thanks daddy," Kurt answered and slung his arm around him in a hug, "that means the world to me."

"So I'm definitely not in trouble for hiding this from you?" Blaine asked dubiously, meeting Kurt's gaze. "I shouldn't be ordering you flowers or a few new magazines?"

"Well you know I'll never turn down some new fashion mags," Kurt told him with a small laugh, "but no Blaine, I'm not mad at you. But don't tell Finn. I'm going to make him sweat for a few more hours."

"Evil."

"Well he deserves it," Kurt declared. "Thanks for coming on like this. I know you have an exam to study for."

"Hey now," Blaine told him sincerely, "you're my top priority remember?"

"I know," Kurt said softly, his eyes reflecting the love he felt for the teenager. "I'll let you get back to studying. Text me after your exam tomorrow?"

"If this your way of telling me not to call you again tonight?" Blaine inquired with a slight point.

"Go study your boring economics, Anderson," Kurt retorted.

"So mean to me," Blaine fake whined, before, more seriously adding, "if you need me sweetheart, call. If not I will talk to you tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you too honey," Kurt answered sincerely, before letting him go.

Kurt shut his laptop down soon after he ended his Skype call and switched his phone off. He didn't have to worry about the alarm. Carole would wake him up for his session in the morning. He settled onto his window-seat after turning off his lights, looking out into the street below, watching as it settled down for the night. What was he supposed to do?

NYADA wanted him to audition. The NYADA. He had been honest to Rachel back in December. He didn't see himself performing in the future anymore. Nevertheless, time had not eradicated the information he and Rachel had found out back when they had first heard about the Academy. Hundreds, if not thousands of people applied to NYADA every year, and only a fraction of those persons made it through to the audition round. That in itself was an accomplishment. He had no idea why he had made it through. What had Rachel written or sent for them to be interested in him in this way? Unless her deception had gone to that extreme level, none of the recommendation letters he knew the school required had been forwarded. Mr. Kentwood had mentioned his willingness to pen a letter for him if he decided on doing the audition, and Kurt knew he could easily get two other teachers to do the same. But was that necessary? Did he want that? Did he truly want to open back up that door?

What if Rachel hadn't mentioned his arm? What if he agreed to the audition and when the representative appeared they took one look at him and didn't bother to go on with it? Kurt didn't know how he would take that, if he could handle that level of rejection. He had had to list his arm as a disability on most of his applications. What if NYADA's hadn't required that, assuming that only the physically fit would apply to such a top-notch institution? Kurt groaned, and buried his head for long moments against his pulled up knees. He was glad he had had the foresight to take some anxiety pills earlier. He didn't want to imagine how chaotic his mind and emotions would be currently otherwise.

He let out a huff and straightened, looking outside again, this time rather unseeingly. Everything was planned out. He had applied to a bunch of colleges, admittedly in some cases for different majors, but largely there was a pattern. Fashion. Journalism. Literature. French. Three of his choice colleges gave him the freedom to do courses in all four. That was what he wanted, because that was what, in the last two or so years, he had excelled at. He had tested into senior French when he had first joined Dalton, alongside Junior English, English Literature and Art History. He'd finished all those subjects by now of course, and had managed to get nothing below a B+ in any of them. It was largely why he could have a three and a half day school week now to focus on his rehabilitation. Even though he had had the choice, he didn't bother to pick up additional classes once he had fulfilled all the requirements for those four.

He was good at those things, and hell, he had been interested in Fashion way longer than he had had liked performing. But still, he had to admit that now the panic and fear of the stage was past him, he could recall the appeal of it. Being on the stage felt great. He loved performing with the Warblers. The sight of the crowd, the applause after a good performance, it was invigorating. And he loved Broadway. Blaine's surprise of going to see Wicked had been the best possible gift for him. He had enjoyed every second of it, marvelled at the fact that actors could lose themselves so deeply into a role that they became the person and conveyed their story with such love and passion that they moved people to their feet and to tears.

That was something Kurt had wanted to do. To evoke such reactions from people through his craft. But then again, he also loved the appeal of becoming someone else continuously. He remembered being fascinated by an interview with an actor once. The man had claimed that when he committed to a role, he committed. He became that person to the extent that his 'real' self was secondary, to the point where he went through a shock whenever the role was complete and he had to rediscover who he was. And, to a sixteen year old teenager who had been suffering from endless bullying, that idea right there felt downright amazing.

But, he wasn't that boy anymore. He had had nothing but love and support since then. He loved being Kurt Hummel, disability and all, because that Kurt Hummel had built for himself since then friends, family and a boyfriend with whom he would have for the rest of his life. This Kurt wasn't afraid of repercussions for putting his all into his schoolwork. That Kurt was careful not to openly excel in his work. He did enough during the term to just float below the radar, but aced all his exams to ensure that he maintained a B average. In Dalton there was no need to hold back. Indeed, at times Kurt had had to push himself that much harder to keep abreast of his classmates. Now Kurt wasn't ashamed to say that academic wise, he was in the top three percentile of his class, wacky schedule and all.

He was different now, confident in himself (mostly) and confident in what he could and could not do. Therefore, could he confidently say that he had no interest in auditioning for NYADA? Or would he saying no just be a reaction to his past, an admittance of fear, an admittance that he truly had not one hundred percent overcome all of his problems? He wasn't sure he could. But neither did he feel that he wanted to rock the boat, to open up that part of his life again.

What was he to do then? Should he say yes? What harm was there? It wasn't as if there was any real guarantee that he would get admitted anyway. That was a hell of a long shot and the odds were very often rarely in his favour. Only twenty people were admitted into that program so he was positive that he wouldn't get in anyway. Therefore he shouldn't waste his time and bother. But then again, he could do it, just to prove to himself that he could. And once he did it...he would feel...what? Accomplished? He wasn't sure.

Even when he finally gave up and went to bed, Kurt still had not decided what his best course of actions would be.