"I feel really out of place here," Artie murmured out loud, only overheard by Blaine as they accompanied Rachel and Kurt to the prospective NYADA-student mixer at the Dayton Doubletree on Thursday night.

"Same," said Blaine, falling into step beside him as they made their way through the hotel lobby. Rachel and Kurt walked ahead of Blaine and Artie, deep in conversation about their plan to outshine all the other prospective students that evening. Rachel carried an alarmingly-pink boom box that looked like something she'd been given when she was six.

Artie and Blaine had been approached by the NYADA hopefuls two days earlier, during duets practice. Artie had been having very little luck making any progress with Sugar.

...

Two days earlier

Artie and Sugar had taken one of the purple pianos, rolling it out into the hallway, and Tina had graciously offered to play for them. Mike naturally came along to do what he usually did and danced around them.

Sugar was flustered because Artie had stopped her yet again to try and coach her through the notes.

"Obviously your legs aren't the only things that don't work," she lashed out. "Your ears must be busted, too, 'cause I worked that song like a hooker pole. It's no biggie, I'll do it again."

Sugar, I'm sorry," Artie said, ignoring her cheap shot at him. "Your singing needs work. But I love your enthusiasm and I'd be so happy to work with–"

"You know what?" she cut him off. "Who cares what you think. Hmm? Nobody. You're all washed up Broadway wannabes just stuck in Lima and your Glee Club has had how many national wins? Oh, I'm sorry. Zero. Not Asperger's!"

As they were distracted by Sugar storming off, none of them noticed the appearance of one Coach Sylvester. She immediately halted their performance by unceremoniously destroying the piano with a pair of pliers she just happened to be carrying.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Tina cried.

"Oh, I'm sorry," spat Coach Sylvester. "I just realized that song might be the national anthem from whatever country you're from."

"That's really offensive," Mike said.

"You know, I was really humbled when your Glee Club made my sister's funeral so very touching," Coach Sylvester went on, still cutting away at the insides of the piano while Artie, Mike, and Tina looked on in horror. "In fact, I was so moved that I have spent the entire year being nothing but kind to you people."

"Today's only the second day of school," Artie pointed out, narrowing his eyes.

"You have no right to disturb the learning environment of this school by playing your jangly national anthem on Liberachi's piano!" Coach Sylvester raged on, ignoring him entirety.

"What just happened?" Rachel poked her head out the door, just as Coach Sylvester stormed off. At the same time, Sugar appeared around the corner. Evidently, she hadn't gotten very far. They all surveyed the damage.

"Oh, now she's gone too far," Kurt added, appearing in the doorway with Rachel.

In an unexpected turn of events, Rachel had teamed up with Kurt to perform 'Ding, Dong, the Witch is Dead,' leaving Blaine and Finn as unlikely duet partners instead.

"Coach Sylvester just destroyed our piano," Tina moaned, looking sadly at the mutilated instrument. "Sugar, would you please tell your dad we are so sorry about what just happened to this piano he gave us."

"Why?" Sugar blinked her big, innocent eyes. The drama that had ensued moments ago seemed all but forgotten now. "You need money to fix it? Here you go."

And she reached in her purse and produced a wad of cash that she just apparently kept on her all the time. Mystified, Tina accepted the cash, giving the others a baffled look. Artie glanced over his shoulder, hoping that the Skanks never got wind of this.

"Hey, Artie, you're considering moving to New York after high school, right?" Kurt asked suddenly, diverting the focus from the purple piano.

Artie was startled by Kurt's question that came out of nowhere. "Uh-I mean, maybe," he stammered. "I still have another year to decide..."

"Well, since you're considering it," Rachel said, flashing a grin at Kurt. "We've decided to attend a mixer on Thursday night at the Dayton Doubletree. It's for prospective NYADA students. Blaine's coming and we have an extra seat in the car. Wanna come along?"

Artie was flattered and also just a wee bit stunned by the invitation, too. It wasn't often that he was the one invited on a road trip. Other people tended to think of the chair and the potential hassle involve of having him along for the ride. It tended to discourage invitations. He was so flattered that he accepted right there on the spot, without really considering whether he actually wanted to take a ride with Rachel, Blaine, and Kurt all the way to Dayton on a school night.

"Sure!" he'd said, immediately.

...

"Artie, I know you're considering the Brooklyn Film Academy, but are you aware that there's a concentration in cinematography and directing at NYADA, too?" Kurt was saying, as they came to a stop to wait for the elevator.

"I didn't know that," Artie replied. "The Brooklyn Film Academy is still at the top of my list, if I do pick that as my field of study. I haven't decided for sure yet."

"I bet you're glad you have an extra year now," Rachel blurted out, clearly before she'd rehearsed how that sounded in her head, and Kurt shot her a look for it. She immediately turned red. "Artie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean–"

"It's okay, I know what you meant," he hurried to say, as she continued to look mortified. "I actually am glad I have another year."

The elevator opened and they all boarded in silence. But Blaine looked confused. Artie saw him open his mouth, as if to ask something, and then close it again without speaking.

"I'm supposed to be a Senior this year," Artie explained, as they ascended to their floor. "My car accident happened in the middle of third grade, and it was too hard to go back, so I just took the rest of the year off and re-enrolled in the fall."

"Oh, I didn't know," Blaine said, and Artie could see him processing this new bit of information. They were all still getting to know Blaine, so naturally, he didn't know much about Artie yet, nor he him.

They all stepped off the elevator and moved on with the conversation, easily shifting the focus back to NYADA.

"NYADA's high on my list, too," Blaine informed the group. "It all depends on if Kurt goes there or not."

"Oh, no, no, no," Kurt said, a smile playing on his lips. "Blaine, you know I adore you, but don't make any decisions about your future based on me and what I do. You're too talented to do that, and I won't let you."

They approached the second floor ballroom that boasted a simple sign outside the door.

"Isaac Friedman's Bar Mitzvah?" Kurt read, lifting an eyebrow.

"That's from Saturday," Rachel explained, pointing out the date on the sign. "This is the right place. I'm so excited." She turned to Kurt. "Okay, so you're going to set-up the props, I'll plug-in the boom-box and we'll launch immediately into the number. Our somewhat talented but sadly delusional competition will just rip up their applications in fits of jealous rage."

"And they'll all just melt away like the Wicked Witch of the West herself!" Kurt squealed. Suddenly these two were besties. Artie wondered what had changed.

"You know what?" Rachel went on, picking up steam. "I kinda feel sorry for them…"

"Me too," Kurt agreed.

"Me too," Artie chimed in, under his breath, with a devious grin, as he made eye contact with Blaine, who hid an amused smile, too.

They entered the ballroom. Right away, Artie noticed they'd entered some kind of Twilight Zone where everyone in the room was a clone of Blaine and Kurt or Rachel. He stuck out like an even bigger sore thumb than usual as all eyes landed on them.

"Hi!" A bubbly brunette in a classic style dress, a strand of pearls, and flats with curled hair ran up to them immediately, sticking her hand out eagerly. "I'm Harmony. What's your name, where are you from and what are your credits?

"Well, I'm Rachel–" Rachel started to say, but the clones were all closing in now, all talking at once and leaving Rachel Berry speechless, an absolute first for her.

"I'm Hendleson!"

"I'm Canada!"

"I'm Gavroche, named after the feisty French street urchin from Les Mis!"

"I know you totally recognize me," Harmony prattled on. "It's because I'm the Gerber baby. I've been acting since I was a fetus. Literally. An ultrasound of me was featured on 'Murder She Wrote.'"

"And I'm starring as Rizzo in an all-male production of Grease," the feisty French street urchin added. "Welcome, welcome, welcome!"

The one with the odd name Artie couldn't remember then took Kurt by the hand and dragged him towards the small stage at the front of the room. Artie watched Blaine's ears turn a little red at this point as they all followed.

"As my future husband, Robert Pattinson always says 'it's refreshing to get new blood," the guy continued.

"New blood?" Kurt exchanged a half-frightened look with Blaine, and for once, someone had left Kurt Hummel speechless as well.

"Have a seat," Harmony said, gesturing at the chairs in front of a makeshift stage. Then, with a nod to Artie, she added, "I see you brought your own."

"Uh... yeah," Artie didn't know what to say to that, but the girl called Harmony looked pleased with herself.

She turned and gestured for everyone to gather around, as they all converged on their new blood. Artie wondered if a feeding frenzy was about to commence.

"We've been meeting here each month since we were freshmen," explained Harmony. "Literally."

"Well actually, Kurt and I just found out about this on Monday," Rachel interjected, crossing and uncrossing her legs nervously. "But speaking of refreshing, we put together a number that we just think you're gonna–"

Completely ignoring Rachel, Harmony turned and clapped to get everyone's attention.

"Places!" she called out. "You're just in time to see a little number we've been fussin' around with. Thank God there was a Bar Mitzvah here on Saturday and I convinced them not to strike the stage. So sit back, relax, and most importantly... enjoy."

"Oh, um. Thank you," Rachel said, looking around as if she didn't know what had just happened or how she'd wound up in the audience instead of on that stage.

Kurt and Rachel proceeded to plaster the biggest, fakest smiles ever across their faces as their doppelgängers took their places onstage.

"Oh, my God," Kurt said, through clenched teeth.

"I know," Rachel was saying. "Just breathe and smile. Just because they look like us and act like us doesn't mean they're better than us."

And they all watched in stunned silence as the other applicants treated them to a lively rendition of 'Anything Goes' mashed up with 'Anything You Can Do.' They were very, very good. It was like watching a whole bunch of Kurts and Rachels all at once.

When the number ended, they all applauded. After that it was time for snacks and coffee – everything was homemade and frankly, quite delicious. Artie noticed immediately that Blaine had a sweet tooth. That made two of them. They left Rachel and Kurt to mingle with their clones and converged on the refreshment table.

"So, do you really want to go to NYADA?" Artie asked, as Blaine pilled sugar cookies and fruit onto his clear, plastic plate. "I mean, taking Kurt out of the equation, do you see yourself there?"

"I honestly don't know yet," Blaine admitted. "I need to do some more research. Thank God for one more year to decide, right?"

"Definitely," Artie said, but he noticed Blaine was wearing an expression similar to the one Rachel wore in the elevator when she thought she'd said the wrong thing.

"Sorry," he said, quickly. "I realize... you didn't get an extra year under the best of circumstances..."

"No, no," Artie hurried to say. "It's fine, really. I'm good. And I'm good with not graduating yet, too."

"It's... gonna be weird next year when everyone else is gone and it's just you, me, and Tina," Blaine commented, and Artie was relieved to hear that he wasn't planning to do anything rash like just transfer back to Dalton after Kurt graduated.

"Wish we still had Sam," Artie said, wistfully. "I think we would have had a lot of fun, the four of us. Oh, and I guess Sugar, too, she's a Sophomore."

"Right." Blaine said, not looking sold on Sugar. Artie was trying to be supportive of her but it was pretty hard. She was straight-up tone deaf. Maybe she'd be able to dance.

"I know Tina will be secretly happy," Artie added. "She might actually get some solos."

"That's gonna be a lot of new members to recruit," Blaine added, as he sampled one of the little fancy fruit tarts.

"Rachel and Kurt don't look too happy over there," Artie commented, with a nod to their friends.

"That's because they're not eating," said Blaine, sagely. Artie snickered at this. He decided he was definitely going to like having the ex-Warbler around.

...

"I've never been so humiliated in my life," Rachel lamented, dramatically, later as they all piled back into the car.

"Me either," Kurt commented, as he disassembled Artie's chair to stow it in the trunk for him. He then climbed into the backseat next to Blaine. "And that's a really high bar."

"Not even when all of Vocal Adrenaline threw eggs at you?" Artie asked innocently from the front seat, as their driver, Rachel, shot him a look that clearly said that was not helpful.

"I mean they were so... ugh!" Rachel exclaimed, at a complete loss for words.

"Fabulous," Kurt supplied. "Rachel, we might be hot stuff at McKinley but outside those walls, we aren't even stuff. Have we been so deluded and arrogant? What if we're not good enough to make it?"

"Don't say that, Kurt," Blaine urged, reaching for his hand. "You have something special. That goes for you too, Rachel. You both do."

"There's only one thing to do," Rachel pressed on, ignoring Blaine's compliment entirely. "We just have to move to another town and just erase our identities and just resign to a sad life of community theatre."

"Don't say that," Kurt said, darkly.

"Nunsense, Love Letters, The Vagina Monologues," Rachel went on, becoming increasingly melodramatic and actually starting to cry. "Face it - I mean this is our future. Not everyone's dreams come true."

"You know what?" Artie finally interjected, having heard enough. "I am ending this pity party right now, okay? Take a look at yourself." And Artie adjusted the rear-view mirror for Rachel. "What do you see? C'mon."

"Sad, puffy, red eyes filled with dashed hopes and dreams," she said.

"Rachel Berry," Artie told her. "One of a kind. There's no-one like you."

"Well, that's actually kind of funny because it seems like there is," she said, sadly.

Okay, fine," Artie said. "So you've never been in a high school production, or any production..."

He trailed off then, because inspiration had suddenly struck. Rachel needed to be in a production to pad her resume. And Artie? Artie needed a directing opportunity. He couldn't afford to wait an entire year to get serious about his own future.

"They have credits," Rachel sighed. "In utero credits."

"Okay, so they have more experience," Kurt piped up again from the backseat. "They have more talent. But you are fierce, Rachel. Your ambition does push-ups while you sleep. Nobody wants it more than you. Nobody. And you're not giving up on this. 'Cause we're not gonna let you. You are getting into that school."

"You're getting in too," Rachel said, twisting around in her seat to look at Kurt. "I know it."

"I doubt it," Kurt said, looking sad. "I'm woefully thin on extra-curriculars."

"It's not too late," Rachel consoled him. "I mean, you can still sign up for some clubs. I'm not the only fierce one. Swear it. We're gonna do this.

And as Kurt and Rachel linked pinkies, doing a silly handshake that Kurt referred to as "the gay high-five" and laughing, Artie's wheels were turning, and not the ones on his chair. He was envisioning a musical, featuring all of the Glee kids, especially the Seniors. His directorial debut.

As they drove home, Artie went through his mental catalogue of all the musicals he'd ever seen or liked. 'Little Shop of Horrors' maybe? Nah, it would be too hard to get all those puppets and the giant man-eating plant on a budget. Besides, that was the one show he'd prefer to star in rather than direct. He envisioned himself as Seymour Krelborn. And Audrey? None other than Quinn Fabray. Pre-Skanks, of course.

Quinn. He'd only seen her in passing in the halls these past few days, but just the brief thought of her was enough to make him heartsick. He'd been trying to come up with a plan to get through to her, but every time he thought of something, he just envisioned the attempt falling flat. And pushing her even further away. He knew he had to tread lightly.

He wondered if Quinn still wanted to go to Yale. Maybe participate in the arts? Maybe, just maybe, she still did. Though she didn't seem terribly concerned with extracurricular activities that didn't involve smoking under the bleachers these days.

How could he get through to her?

And then, as they were driving through a shady part of town on their way to the highway, his thoughts turned to Quinn's newfound friends. He'd nearly found common ground with that girl, Sheila, when he shared his knowledge of The Bangles. So maybe that was the answer?

If he wanted to get through to Quinn, he'd have to infiltrate the Skanks.