A/N: Any Kurt fans out there might hate me for this one. But remember ... not a Kurt story. Not the Glee you remember. The show is just a guide. I hijacked all the good stories and gave them to Artie and Quinn. Sorry not sorry!
Special thanks to QuinnAbrams for a contribution in the middle!
The soccer ball print sheets were already clean and ready for the next visitor, as Artie led Sam up the stairs. Sam hadn't yet witnessed Artie inch-worm up stairs very often, so this was one of the first of many times he'd see Artie's unique but effective travel technique.
When they'd finally ascended, Artie found his older, smaller wheelchair, which stayed up there for events like this. He could still fit in it well enough to get around upstairs. Although usually, when Artie came up here, it was just to scoot to the couch in the open game room and watch movies with Amy. He hardly ever ventured into his old bedroom and for good reason.
His soccer memorabilia made up the majority of the wall decor, with a framed jersey on the wall, shelves and shelves of trophies, and framed team pictures hanging on the walls. Sam noticed the decor, of course, but made no mention of it as Artie directed him to unpack into the empty dresser.
"Is that all you have for clothes?" Artie asked, as Sam put three pairs of jeans and four long-sleeved shirts in the empty drawers.
"That's all I have for fall," Sam corrected, looking over his shoulder at Artie. "I just... do a lot of laundry and..." he took note of Artie's expression. "... you're gonna have your mom take me shopping, aren't you?"
"It's just what she does," Artie said, with a shrug, and then he knew why Sam looked alarmed, for he was already surveying what Artie was wearing. "She'll buy you whatever you want. You don't have to dress like me."
"No offense, but uh..." Artie was already laughing, as Sam tried to formulate the question, for he knew what the other guy was going to ask. "Why do you dress so, uh, formally?"
"I just don't look right in other clothes," was the reason Artie gave today. Sam looked briefly puzzled by that answer, but seeing as he was a guy and didn't care much about clothes anyway, he moved on from there.
As Sam continued to unpack, putting his toiletries away in the small bathroom between the rooms (and probably glimpsing Amy's empty bedroom through her open door), Artie thought of a question of his own for Sam.
"Sam, how does a sixteen year old become a – a – well, what you called it – an exotic dancer?"
Sam emerged from the bathroom, his cheeks already reddening. "Because," he said, sheepishly. "Stallionz never asked me for an ID. I filled out an application and put a fake birthday, showed them my abs, and just like that, I was hired. I usually made between fifty to hundred bucks a night in tips alone!"
Artie held up his hands. "No judgment," he said. "I was just wondering how you got away with it. You know, for when I decide to apply..."
Sam smiled then, showing that he appreciated Artie for having a sense of humor about this and not judging him harshly for what he'd done. "Just please... don't ever tell my parents," he said. "They just thought the DQ was paying really well..." And he heaved an enormous sigh. "... I don't know how they'll get by, without the extra money coming in."
"Your dad doesn't want you to worry about that, okay dude?" Artie told him, studying Sam as he chewed his enormous lower lip, looking like he was trying hard not to fall apart.
"Okay," he said, in a small voice.
By way of changing the subject and easing Sam's pain, Artie brought up something else. He pointed to the largest framed photo, the huge one by his bed that showed his last soccer team, the Gophers, posed in their blue jerseys.
"See anyone you recognize there?" he asked, gesturing over his shoulder. "Besides me. I'm the little guy, front and center."
Sam made his way over to the wall and only examined the picture for a second before he noticed the tallest kid on the team. "Finn!" he exclaimed. Then he saw the Mohawk. "And Puck!"
Artie nodded. "My teammates," he said. "Those days were fun." And then he bit his lip, as he saw the look of sadness mingled with pity cross Sam's face. "Speaking of teammates, the New Directions are gonna freak out when they find out you're back!"
Sam grinned. "I can't wait to surprise them on Monday."
...
It didn't always happen, but there were times when Artie could pretty much do whatever he wanted and no teacher batted an eye. Everyone just figured that the wheelchair kid who dressed like one of the teachers was perfectly within his right to roll right into the teacher's lounge. Principal Figgins even held the door open for him.
"Come right on in, Mr. Abrams," he said, as he was on his way out the door. Artie thanked him and kept going, as if it were a natural thing for him to come into the one place typically off-limits to students.
"Coffee?" Mrs. Blessman, Artie's elderly Geometry teacher from Freshman year smiled sweetly and held up the pot she was about to use to pour a cup for herself.
Artie held up a gloved hand. "No, thanks, Ms. Blessman," he said. "And might I say, that blue dress is a nice color for you."
"Bless you, sweet boy," said Ms. Blessman.
"Artie?" Mr. Schuester did a double take, as did Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste, both of whom were scarfing down lunches in the twenty minutes or so that they had to eat. "What are you-? What are you doing here?"
"It's a teacher's lounge, isn't it?" Artie said, innocently. "It's where all the teachers hang out."
"Oh, right, and Artie here is my team manager." Coach Beiste stood up then to pull the fourth chair out of the way for him, clapping him on the shoulder, completely fine with lying and taking credit for inviting him in.
"Thanks, Coach," he said, smiling appreciatively at her as she made space for him. "But I'm not here to talk about football. Actually, I wanted to talk to Mr. Schuester about something for Glee Club. Well, sort of for Glee Club, sort of a side project, it's to help our NYADA hopefuls, and I'm rambling, sorry I'm nervous."
"No need to be nervous," Mr. Schuester smiled warmly at him, reminding him of why he loved his teacher so much. "Let's hear what you've got. It must be a pretty pressing idea if this conversation couldn't wait until rehearsal."
"It is," Artie assured him. "You see, Blaine and I went with Rachel and Kurt to their NYADA mixer last week. There, we met a bunch of other future NYADA applicants, and many of them have real resumes filled with both amateur and professional credits. Rachel and Kurt were discouraged because neither of them even have a high school production to list on their applications, due to the failure of Rocky Horror last year…"Wrap it up, Artie, you're rambling again! "I have an idea for the school musical this year," Artie cut to the point. "West Side Story!"
When Mr. Schue didn't look as immediately on board as Artie expected him to be, he elaborated on the idea he'd finalized on Sunday.
"The rivalry between the Jets and the Sharks, the love story between Maria and Tony… it's the perfect show to put on this year. And it's not super controversial, therefore we won't get shut down by the school board before we even get to perform our first matinee. This way, the seniors will have something to show the admissions offices when they send in their applications for college, and it'll even help out us underclassmen too."
Artie's eyes were wide behind the frames of his glasses as he watched as Mr. Schue processed his idea. Beside him, Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste seemed to be eagerly awaiting the teacher's response as well.
"I don't know, Artie. I appreciate what you're trying to do for your friends, but my sole focus needs to be on Nationals this year if we want to have a shot at winning. We were so close last year, and I really think we can bring home first place in the spring, if we give it our all," Mr. Schue said as he rubbed his chin in thought. "I just don't have the time to devote to directing a musical this year."
"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," Artie said, his heartbeat speeding up as he reached the point in the conversation that he was most nervous about. "I wanted to ask you if I could direct the musical this year. I… I've always been fascinated by the idea of directing, and with all of the college talk lately, I've been toying with the idea of applying to film school. Obviously, I have an extra year to really decide what my plans are, but selfishly, this would be a great opportunity for me too."
Much to his dismay, Mr. Schue still didn't seem fully convinced.
"Well, not that I don't fully believe in your directorial abilities, Artie – I do – but the school wouldn't allow us to put on the show without a faculty advisor," Mr. Schue told him. "Not to mention, I just don't know where we'll come up with the budget for this kind of production…"
"I've got the costs covered," Artie cut in. "During one of our rehearsals for the duets competition, Sugar and I were talking about how it's been years since McKinley put on a musical, and she told her dad… Long story short, Mr. Motta has generously offered to fund the musical this year, so long as Sugar gets a role. I told him that shouldn't be a problem."
"And I wouldn't mind being your co-director, if a faculty director is needed," Coach Beiste added, putting a strong hand on Artie's shoulder. "I have a theatrical background myself, you know. I was in a musical back in college. And I bet I could get the football players to play the Jets by telling them they'll be cut from the team if they don't participate."
Artie beamed. It seemed like his vision was already starting to fall into place.
"I have to say, I agree with Artie," Ms. Pillsbury told Mr. Schue, flashing a sweet smile in Artie's direction as she said this. "Colleges do like it when applicants have a handful of extracurricular activities from high school, and with the competitiveness of today's college admissions process, being involved in a school musical, in addition to other sports and clubs, could really give them a leg up on the other applicants. I'd be happy to help out as well, if needed."
Suddenly, with all of the work of putting on a musical taken care of for him, there didn't seem to be a way that Mr. Schue could say no.
"You've clearly put a lot of thought and effort into this idea, Artie, and I commend you for that," Mr. Schue acknowledged, a smile appearing on his face. "Why don't you announce this to the Glee Club at today's rehearsal yourself? I'd hate to take credit for your idea."
Artie vehemently shook his head. "You see, I've developed my entire persona around conflict avoidance," he admitted. "You can pretend that you came up with the idea for West Side Story yourself and appoint me as a student director. Really, Mr. Schue, I don't mind."
Artie's carefully curated – but mostly secretive – dream of becoming a director someday would be considered a pipedream to some, especially where the chair was concerned. He knew that much for sure. With the doubts of others always at the forefront of his mind, Artie wasn't sure he was confident enough to sit in front of his peers and take credit for the idea of the show, no matter how proud of it he was.
While Mr. Schue surely thought that Artie's newest suggestion was a strange one, he nodded, agreeing to go along with it anyway.
"You got it. Thanks for coming in. I'll see you later," Mr. Schue said as Artie pivoted his chair and headed for the door. "And hey, Artie? Next time you need something, feel free to catch me in my office or classroom. There are lots of places you can find me where students are permitted."
"Noted," Artie said sheepishly. "Thanks, Mr. Schue."
...
They were all assembled for their usual choir practice that afternoon, but before the first pair could perform a duet, Mr. Schuester had several announcements. For starters, Sam was waiting in the hall to make a dramatic entrance, even though just about everyone had seen him at school that day, at one point or another.
"Without further ado, let's welcome back Sam Evans!" Mr. Schuester cried, as their resident Justin Bieber lookalike came running in amid cheers. Someone had left his usual seat open, but before he could sit down, he exchanged hugs and high fives with everyone in the room. He even hugged Sugar, who fanned herself in awe.
And then Mr. Schue shot Artie one last look that clearly said – Are you sure you don't want to take the credit for this? Artie gave the slightest tilt of the head, urging him to go on.
"Okay, on to our next item of business. Sugar Motta's father has agreed to have his company sponsor our very first fall musical," Mr. Schue announced, proudly, gesturing to Sugar as she cupped her hand and waved to everyone. "So, thank you, Sugar. I hope you all will audition, and we'll open this up to the rest of the school as well. Hopefully, this will accomplish two goals. Number one, this may help us continue to recruit new members for Glee. And number two, this may boost the resumes of the NYADA hopefuls..."
"Finally!" Kurt exclaimed. "What show are we doing?"
Mr. Schuester looked at Artie for a fraction of a second. Again, Artie gave a slight nod. He wanted this to come from their teacher, not him, increasing the likelihood of everyone else buying in. "West Side Story."
"Amazing," Rachel said, almost in a whisper, catching a look from Mercedes, who was clearly thinking that Rachel needed to recognize she'd have competition for the lead, namely Mercedes.
"I'd also like to follow up on the excellent suggestion Mike made last week..." Mr. Schue turned to write 'BOOTY CAMP' on the whiteboard. "After choir practices, I am instituting a mandatory Booty Camp so that we can work on our dancing. Now, it's not for all of you. Just the people that I think need help. Like –"
"Finn," said Finn, shaking his head.
"How did you know?" Mr. Schuester teased back. "And Puckerman... Hummel..."
"I must protest," Kurt interjected, offended, crossing his arms in front of his body.
"You kinda have one move, Kurt," Mike leaned over to inform him. "It's like this sashay..." Mike demonstrated. "... and it's super distracting."
"Jones," Mr. Schuester concluded.
"What?" Mercedes immediately became defensive, upon hearing her name. "Hell to the nizzy - NO."
"You told me once that you were Beyoncé," Mr. Schuester innocently pointed out. "You don't think she spends extra time in the dance studio? Now Mike Chang has offered to teach us, so we start tomorrow and yes, Puckerman, it is mandatory."
Puck lowered the hand he'd raised. "I was just going to point out that Artie isn't trying hard enough." And he shot a grin with Artie, who grinned back, enjoying having inside jokes with Puck.
"Mr. Schuester, would you mind if I dropped by for a little bit?" asked Blaine, who was one of those who obviously didn't need the extra dance lessons. "I really need to catch up with you guys."
"Okay, Mr. Schue, I'm glad that you're so concerned with our special-needs members," Rachel began. "But what about me? Can we get back to talking about the musical? Are you directing it?"
"I am not," Mr. Schuester said. "I've already got a lot of my plate, between Glee Club and Booty Camp. Ladies and gentleman, your co-musical directors. Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste..."
And with that, the pair entered, Ms. Pillsbury waving giddily and Coach Beiste beaming brightly, as Rachel bit her lip and shook her head, never one to shy away from expressing any opinion, when it came to show business.
"Now, Ms. Pillsbury did such a good job of helping us out with 'Rocky Horror,' so I knew she could handle the job," Mr. Schuester continued.
"And I'm here to keep the football guys in line, and I've also talked them into playing the Jets!" Coach Beiste annnounced, proudly.
"Mr. Schue, with all due respect to Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste, this is crazy," Rachel said, standing and moving to the front as though by invitation. "They have absolutely zero experience in directing a musical."
"Not true," Coach Beiste protested. "In college I was in 'A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.' I played the forum."
"The teachers at this school are already overworked and unfortunately a lot of them agree with Sue that the arts are a waste of time," Mr. Schuester interjected, shooting Rachel a look that meant he didn't appreciate her meddling. "Besides, they are gonna have some help. I have decided to include a student director this year."
"Mr. Schue, I'm honored," said Rachel. "But Barbra was forty when she directed herself in Yentl so it's just, it's too soon."
"I hate you," Brittany told Rachel.
"I was actually hoping that Artie would take the job." Mr. Schuester genuinely made it sound like his idea, just as Artie had requested.
Now it was Artie who polished up his acting skills and pretended to be shocked.
"Me?" he said, looking around and feigning nervousness as he repeated what he'd told Mr. Schuester earlier. "I've developed my whole persona around conflict avoidance."
"Come on, Artie," Tina encouraged him. "You've made short films. Directing is your dream. You can do it."
He smiled, knowing he could always count on Tina for stuff like this. "I'm in," he told them.
"Alright," said Mr. Schuester, who beamed at Artie, who knew this would always be their little secret. "That's what I like to hear, buddy."
They moved onto showcasing the duets, starting with Tina and Mike, who performed 'Suddenly Seymour,' which of course had Artie grinning, since he loved 'Little Shop of Horrors' so much. He was glad he hadn't picked it, but he did notice one thing. Somewhere along the line, Mike Chang had picked up the ability to actually sing. His voice wasn't remarkable or anything, but he actually pulled off the song without having to make a joke of it this time. Artie clapped louder than anyone, having reached the point now where he could genuinely be happy for Mike and Tina.
Even if he was alone.
Artie decided to follow up their duet with his and Sugar's. He knew that when you didn't have much talent to work with, playing up a gimmick of some sort was best. That was why they'd settled on a cheesy arrangement of 'Sugar, Sugar,' by the Archies, which did accomplish the goal of getting every single audience member to smile, clap, and sing along. And Sugar was mostly on-key. Success.
They got through half the duets that day, with the intent to finish the next day and move on to auditions for 'West Side Story' on Wednesday. As they packed up their things to go (since Booty Camp didn't start until tomorrow), he was caught off-guard by Brittany, who approached him quite intently.
"Out of all of the kids at this school, I think that you are the biggest unicorn," she told him, as Santana scowled over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry?" Artie said, blinking in confusion.
"Well, when a pony does a good deed, he gets a horn and he becomes a unicorn and then he poops out cotton candy until he forgets he's magical. And then his horn falls off. And, black unicorns - they become zebras."
"Oh, that's - that's a terrifying story," said Artie.
"No it's not," Brittany insisted. "The point is, is that a unicorn is somebody who knows they're magical and isn't afraid to show it."
"Oh..." And Artie, finally realizing this was a compliment, began to smile. "Well – thanks Britt!"
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sugar had been watching the entire exchange.