21. KURT

Unlike previous years, this year's Winter Showcase took place in the first week of January instead of before Christmas. It suited Kurt fine, as it had given him time to finish his critiques without having to rehearse a new number on top, as well as the opportunity to accept the part in Pinocchio. Now, with critiques, the play and holidays out of the way, he could give the Showcase his full attention. Then again, his full attention…?

He glanced at Elliott, who was looking amazing in his tuxedo, and felt butterflies whirl in his stomach. Elliott turned to look at him and briefly covered Kurt's hand with his own, squeezing it. He probably assumed Kurt was nervous - which he was, but not for the competition.

Kurt smiled at him, his lips pressed firmly together. He had chosen his own suit with care as well. After all, this was the night that would go on replay in their minds every anniversary, in soft focus and slow motion - Elliott would see him wearing this outfit in his mind's eye every time he'd think of the romantic night they finally got together, and Kurt wanted it to be perfect. (He remembered, in the smallest detail, every article of clothing he wore at every turning point in his life so far - a reason why he had tossed out the red jeans from the night Blaine told him he had cheated. Kurt couldn't bear to part with the Givenchy shirt he had also worn that night, but hadn't worn it again either). Maybe, for their first anniversary, they could find a nice theatre play or concert to go to wearing these suits - if he wasn't performing on Broadway that night, of course. If that were to be the case, Elliott would wear his tux in the front row.

The conductor lead the orchestra into subtly fading their music into silence and the audience in the Round Room went quiet. Madame Tibideaux entered, giving the room an acknowledging nod.

Kurt forced his thoughts away from his future love life to pay attention to her. Everyone was in black tie, though Madame Tibideaux looked the same as ever; neither glamorous nor shabby. Beyond dresscodes, clearly. Then again, it was her own event, Kurt mused.

She waited until the room was completely silent, then began her opening speech.

"Dear friends of the dramatic arts, dear sponsors, staff and students; welcome to the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts' annual Winter Showcase, where you may get a glimpse of the next generation of Emmy, Tony, Golden Globe and Oscar winners," she announced, with a proud twinkle in her eyes. The audience applauded politely, and Madame Tibideaux waited for them to quiet down.

"An academy is, by definition, a place of learning," she continued. "But unlike our name suggests, here at NYADA, we do not to teach our students to sing, dance or act. They are already the best in their field when they are accepted to this school. We simply guide them towards achieving the very best of their potential. The students who are about to perform represent what NYADA stands for; talent and the willingness to benefit from our collective experience and hone their craft."

Kurt couldn't describe what it meant to him to hear her say that. Despite his roundabout way of getting accepted, he was accepted in the end, and now actually belonged to this group she called 'the best in their field'. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he'd not only get accepted, but would be chosen to represent the school. He looked over at Elliott and found him gazing back, with something of a proud smile on his lips - once again confirming that he was better friend-material than Rachel or Blaine ever were. Pride and envy would have gotten in the way of their rejoicing in his success; not so with Elliott. Kurt knew he was genuinely pleased of the recognition Kurt was getting.

Kurt was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost missed his own introduction.

" - a remarkable young man who made his debut at the last Winter Showcase, before he was even officially a student here. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: Kurt Hummel."

Applause swelled and Kurt quickly rose from his seat, nodding at the people he passed in greeting as he made his way to the stage. He went to the microphone stand, adjusted it, and took a deep breath.

"Good evening. My name is Kurt Hummel, and I shall be singing a Sondheim song," he announced. He gave the pianist a small nod. The introduction played, and Kurt looked out over his audience, easily finding his own empty seat and his best friend next to it. He briefly met Elliott's eyes. Elliott was looking excited and gave him two thumbs up. The corners of Kurt's lips curled up, but then he lowered his eyes to concentrate. Now was not the time to get distracted and forget the lyrics. This was a serenade; but it was also a performance and a competition.

When he raised his head again, he was in full performance mode.

"The sun comes up - I think about you," he sang slowly, gazing out over his audience. He gave them a shy smile, like he was about to admit something slightly embarrassing. "The coffee cup - I think about you…"

Kurt closed his eyes as he concentrated on the delicate, drawn out words that came next. "I love you so…it's like I'm losing my mind."

Kurt opened his eyes again. "The morning ends - I think about you." He nodded a little, as if resigning to his fate, "I talk to friends - I think about you. And do they know? It's like I'm losing my mind!"

He slowly raised his voice as he went into the next part, trying to describe the urgency of his longing.

"All afternoon, doing every little chore, the thought of you stays bright. Sometimes I stand, in the middle of the floor -" Kurt allowed himself a small hand gesture to the left side of the audience, "not going left -" he repeated the same to the right, "not going right…"

He dropped his hands and offered the audience a selfconscious smile. "I dim the lights - and think about you… Spend sleepless nights - to think about you…"

Kurt couldn't help but find Elliott's eyes as he thought of New Year's Eve."You said you loved me. Or were you just -" he shrugged helplessly, "being kind?"

He leaned in, hunching his shoulders a little and resting the tips of his fingers delicately on the stand just below the microphone. "Or am I losing my mind?"

Kurt let go of the microphone stand and took a few steps away from it during the musical interlude, shaking his head a little and looking pensive. Then, he walked back and looked up to face the audience again.

"I want you so - it's like I'm losing…my mind!" He drew out the last word, slowly raising his arms up dramatically as his voice grew louder and louder, resonating in the perfect accoustics of the Round Room, before letting his head fall back and running his fingers through the hair at his temples to cradle the back of his head, then letting them glide down the sides of his neck like a caress.

"Does no one know?" he nearly whispered, balling his fists, "it's like I'm losing my mind?"

The lyrics repeated, and Kurt gave it his all, showing his audience he had the volume and power to fill and enthrall a Broadway theatre with his voice, without a microphone should he ever need to. He returned to his quiet voice for the very last line, ending the song as tenderly as it had begun.

The last notes of the piano faded out softly, and suddenly the Round Room was filled with noise. Fabric rustled and metal scraped over wood as people rose to their feet and started to applaud. Kurt acknowledged them with a nervous bow of his head, feeling blood rush into his cheeks. It was over. His heart was out; he had laid everything out to see - and he felt a little frightened to look back into the audience at his friend. He ducked his head and hurried to the side of the stage, making way for Madame Tibideaux to announce the next student.

Several people patted his back as Kurt quietly made his way back to his seat, but he barely felt them. His heart was beating in his throat. Elliott was still standing when he arrived, offering him excited jazz hands and miming 'wow'. Kurt smiled, feeling giddy. They couldn't talk now, but what would happen during intermission…?

Three songs (and a thousand what-if scenarios in Kurt's mind) later, Madame Tibideaux finally announced a twenty minute break, and people started rising from their seats to make their way to the standing tables to get themselves a refreshment.

ELLIOTT

If anyone had asked Elliott what the other three students after Kurt had performed, he wouldn't have been able to say. He had sat there like in a dream, pretending to be interested in the show, while occasionally glancing at Kurt to watch his beautiful profile and the soft smile on his lips. Had he just been serenaded?

Kurt had looked directly at him several times during the song. Elliott had been unable to look away. He had felt drawn in, mesmerized by Kurt's every single word and gesture, until the entire Round Room around him had disappeared in his peripheral view.

I love you so…

Was that really what Kurt was feeling? Elliott could hardly believe it. He wanted it to be true, but at the same time, he knew he had been witnessing Kurt at the top of his game, displaying his craft. This was musical theatre. He was supposed to make his audience feel the song. He may have just picked Elliott to focus on to steady his nerves.

Madame Tibideaux finally released them from their seats, and Elliott turned to face Kurt.

"That was amazing! You blew me away. You were absolutely-" Elliott started, and Kurt looked at him expectantly, his lips parted a little in an eager smile.

"Breathtaking," a deep voice behind them said. "But then, you always are."

Kurt frowned and looked over his shoulder. Then he gasped. "Adam!"

Elliott turned as well and saw a tall, blond man in a tuxedo standing there, smiling at Kurt.

"Hello Kurt," the man said, his accent unmistakingly British.

Things clicked in Elliott's mind. Ah. That Adam. He watched them hug and exchange air kisses, NYADA-style. So that was where you put your hands. He didn't fail to notice that they both lingered a little in the embrace before letting go. Somehow, whenever Kurt had talked about him, Elliott had imagined someone less buff and with bad teeth. Did he have to be so handsome?

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in England!" Kurt let out.

"I was, but the new semester doesn't start until next week and flights were relatively cheap, so when I heard you were doing the Winter Showcase again, well… I couldn't resist. For old times' sake, you know?"

Was Kurt blushing? Elliott wasn't sure. In any case, Kurt looked genuinely glad to see his ex-boyfriend. Who had flown across the North Atlantic to see him perform.

"Who told you?" Kurt asked.

"Elly. Remember her, from the Apples? She's with Light and Sound," Adam nodded at the small crew in the back of the room. He smiled and leaned forward, lowering his voice a little. "I managed to sneak in as her assistant. I'm probably the most overdressed techie ever." He winked.

Kurt grinned. Then he rolled his eyes and turned to Elliott. "Elliott, this is Adam Crawford. Adam: Elliott Gilbert," he introduced them. "Elliott is an amazing singer and musician and he's in my band," he added proudly, looking back at Adam.

"One Three Hill, right! I saw that video of your concert on youtube," Adam said enthusiastically, offering Elliott his hand to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Elliott. I really wish I could have made it to your gig, but I was stuck across the pond. New job and all. You sound brilliant, though. Your voice is amazing."

"Thanks, man," Eliott replied. He knew it was a waste of time trying to dislike this man. He was simply too charming, too polite - too damn British.

"So how've you been?" Kurt asked. "How's your job at the school? How are your sisters? And…are you seeing anyone?" Kurt added the last with a little wink, clearly giving Adam the option not to answer that.

Adam grinned. "Um. It's good. Challenging, but good. My sisters are fine, I'll tell them you asked. And…yes, as a matter of fact, I sort of am. It's rather fresh, actually. We only met about two weeks ago, at a Christmas party."

Kurt gasped again. "Oh my god, is it that guy you friended on Facebook, who looks like that boy from the Brideshead Revisited movie?"

Adam blushed a little and nodded. "That's him. His name is Danny. He's, um- I really like him and he seems to like me, so…who knows." He shrugged a little helplessly.

"I hope it works out. I really do," Kurt said warmly, and Elliott relaxed a little.

"Elly told me you and Blaine…?" Adam asked carefully, and Kurt groaned.

"Yeah. What a trainwreck. I never should have taken him back in the first place."

"Right. Well…I won't disagree with you there," Adam said quietly, his smile a little dimmed.

Elliott looked at Kurt, who seemed to have realized what he had said, and was also looking a bit pensive.

"So, did you hear Kurt starred in a Christmas matinée show?" Elliott asked in a light tone, hoping to help them out a little.

"No, I didn't!" Adam replied gratefully. "What was it?"

"Pinocchio," Kurt said, cocking his head a little and spreading his hands out with a shrug, as if to say 'what else?'. It was a three-show only gig, but I did make a few contacts that might come in handy later."

Adam smiled fondly, and Elliott knew the same smile was probably on his own face. It was hard not to be enchanted by Kurt's humility.

"Good for you, Kurt. I never doubted you, you know," Adam said. "If I had known, I would have tried to come and see it. Or send you a batch of break-a-leg biscuits at least."

"I know. I should have written more. I'm sorry we sort of lost track -" Kurt started, but Adam waved it off with his hand.

"It's fine, Kurt. I know how busy you are. And it's my own fault for not using Facebook properly." He turned to Elliott and gave him a slightly embarrassed look. "I only check in every now and then," he explained. "I never know what to post. I'm not that interesting, really."

"Not true," Kurt said sternly. "You're the third most interesting person from England I know."

"Technically, you don't know William and Harry," Adam reminded him, so that makes me first." He struck a proud pose, chin raised.

Kurt chuckled. "You got me."

Adam looked over Kurt's shoulder and saw someone coming. His face fell a little. "I have to dash," he said quickly. "Madame Tibideaux is headed this way, and she and I never really got along. She also probably knows I'm notreally with Light and Sound."

"Right," Kurt mumbled, "Um, thank you so much for coming. It was great seeing you!"

"The pleasure was all mine, Kurt," Adam replied. "I hope you win." He turned to Elliott. "It was lovely meeting you."

"Uh, yeah," Elliott replied, a little unprepared for the sudden end of their conversation. "Yeah, you too."

"I'll write," Kurt promised. "And I can send you a Pinocchio bootleg if you promise not to share it."

Adam put a hand over his heart. "Not until you get your first Tony and I really, really need the money," he said solemnly.

Kurt laughed again, and pressed his own hand to his heart to show how touched he was.

Adam shot both of them another smile and hurried off.

Elliott waited until he was out of earshot and then said: "So that was Adam."

"Yeah," Kurt said, still looking in the direction his ex-boyfriend had left in. "That was Adam."

"I like him. He makes you smile."

"He makes everyone smile," Kurt agreed, turning back to Elliott. "I don't think he can help himself."

"Are you still-" Elliott started, but then Madame Tibideaux had arrived.

"Well, Mr. Hummel, that was some performance," she said, and Elliott frowned, not sure what to make of her tone.

"I think you had the audience wondering if you were singing from Follies or giving us a look into your personal diary," she added, and now she smiled a little. Elliott still wasn't sure how she meant it. Madame Tibideaux's smile was like a sphinx's.

"Madame Tibideaux," Kurt said, and his tone, Elliott knew. It was his subtlefuck-off voice, wrapped in politeness. "Everything I sing is personal. It is my job to take music personally. If the assignment was to sing the Muppet Showtheme, I would make the audience wonder if I was made out of felt."

Elliott nearly laughed out loud at the surprised expression on Madame Tibideaux's face. She recovered quickly, and there was a definite spark in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Maybe she hid a sense of humor somewhere in that turban.

It wasn't until later, when Madame Tibideaux had whisked Kurt away to introduce him to some important sponsors of the arts, that Elliott realized what Kurt's words meant, and his joy faded a little. Oh. Rejoiced too soon. It had all been a part of his presentation after all.

The rest of the evening, Elliott couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. For a few minutes, he had hoped that the moment had finally come. What now? Should he just go on waiting and hoping - or give up?

Kurt didn't win, but as he had already explained to Elliott on their way there, he never expected to. A senior would get the title; someone they could take credit for as having groomed longer. If Kurt won now, he explained, it would look like he did it on pure talent. It would be a political decision not to let him win, and he didn't mind. The invitation alone (and the networking opportunities it offered) was enough. Still, as the evening progressed, Kurt somehow got more and more subdued. As soon as the winner was announced, he told Elliott he was tired and wanted to go home.

"I still think you should have won," Elliott offered as they got into their shared cab.

"Thanks, but you're biased," Kurt replied. He looked out of the window. "And I told you, I wouldn't have won even if I was the best."

"You are."

Kurt let out a deep sigh. Then his cellphone buzzed. "Do you mind?" he asked, and Elliott shook his head. Kurt took out his phone, read the message, and started typing. "It's Mercedes," he said, still typing. "Just writing up a quick play-by-play."

"That's ok, take your time," Elliott said, and he sat back in his seat, letting the evening play again in his mind.

He couldn't help but feel he'd messed up somehow. He tried to figure out when the mood had shifted. His heart sank a little when he realized it was around the time when Adam arrived.

Was it because Kurt had found out Adam was seeing someone new? Or because they had talked about Blaine? Was he blaming himself for everything that had happened again?

Elliott was torn between wanting to ask Kurt and letting it be. If they talked about it, he might be able to help Kurt get it off his chest, but at the same time, he was afraid that dragging it all up would make Kurt feel even worse. Why was nothing ever easy?

KURT

Ms Jones: How did it go? What did he say?

K. Hummel : Nothing much. I don't think he noticed :((

Ms Jones: Plan B. TALK - TO - HIM!

K. Hummel : Not tonight :( I'm not good at improv.

Ms Jones: Life is not a play! You don't need rehearsals to talk to your best friend :)

Kurt stared at Mercedes' text for several blocks. All the while, Elliott was quiet next to him. Kurt looked over at him, checking if he was asleep, but he wasn't. He also seemed lost in his own thoughts. Months ago, before all of this confusion, Kurt would have just asked him what he was thinking, but the reply 'nothing, you?' was one he didn't want to answer right now.

Kurt knew Mercedes was right. He should just talk to Elliott about how he felt, fumbling words be damned. But for days he'd been fantasizing about this perfect romantic movie ending, where Elliott would hear the song and everything would make sense and he'd fall into Kurt's arms without words,Moulin Rouge style, raining rose petals and applause and all.

So stupid, he cursed himself. After everything you've gone through with Blaine, you should know better by now. Movie endings aren't for you.

The disappointment and bitterness of his realization nearly brought tears to Kurt's eyes. He'd get over this, as always; brush it off and take the rational approach - which was talking to Elliott, and accept possible rejection - but not tonight. He'd let himself have one more night to mourn his romantic streak.

ELLIOTT

"Shall I walk you up?" Elliott offered as the cab halted in front of Kurt's place.

Kurt shook his head. "Nah, you don't need to run up the tab," he said, and quickly brushed his cheek against Elliott's in goodbye before getting out. Elliott watched him go. Kurt had already given Elliott more than his share for the fare, and Elliott knew an excuse when he heard it. Kurt wanted to be alone.

"I changed my mind," he told the taxi driver. "I want to go somewhere else."