A/N: Thank you guys for the feedback! August, to find out where Artie winds up going to college in my version, check out Going Public and then Dorm Daze: Artie and Sam
The following month consisted of intense rehearsals dedicated to making every aspect of the show perfect. As Artie had learned last year, directing a show was about having opinions. Even opinions about stuff you knew nothing about. And as the show drew closer, he found himself getting more intense, like a pressure cooker. He started to feel like he was on the verge of exploding on Wednesday, the day before their dress rehearsal, when they had to stop everything to try on the costumes Tina had finally finished.
"This is perfect for Sandy," Artie said, praising the pink poodle skirt that Tina had just finished making for Kitty. Tina nodded vigorously in agreement, probably relieved he wasn't asking her to change anything for once. He'd turned down the previous skirt for not being full enough. Kitty tried to smooth down the fullness of this skirt. "No, no. It's supposed to be like that. Tie a matching pink ribbon in her hair and she's good to go. Next!"
"How come the pink ladies all get to wear pencil skirts while Patty and Sandy look like little girls?" Kitty wanted to know, not leaving the stage without an answer to her question.
"Jan's not wearing a pencil skirt either," Artie pointed out, as Lauren looked up from where she'd been sitting on the stage, talking to Wade.
"Yeah, because she can't fit in one," Kitty said, much louder than she needed to, as Lauren took in everything that was being said and scowled in Kitty's direction before turning back to Wade. Everyone was pretty accustomed to Kitty's big mouth, so much so that Lauren didn't even care to give her a reaction. Artie, however, was getting tired of Kitty's tirade.
"Kitty, look, Sandy is not supposed to be sexy in the beginning of the story," he explained, patiently. "She's supposed to be innocent. And then, at the end, her pleather pants are much sexier than any pencil skirt. Speaking of which, would you please go try that on? Then we're going to do a run-through of that scene with you in your costume before we go home."
Kitty shot him one last withering look but did what he asked. Next, he had to take a look at Brittany/Patty's cheerleading uniform with the long, pleated skirt. Sandy had to wear that, too, in one scene. Artie had opted to make it be the colors the script called for – white with accents of green and brown. It was even mentioned in the funny cheer/song that Sandy and Patty sang that those were the school colors. Needless to say, Kitty had shared her opinion about Artie not sticking to the movie's red and white outfits, which she said would have been a nice nod to McKinley High. Artie metaphorically dug his heels in and wouldn't budge on keeping the school colors and staying true to the script.
"Okay, now we just need Teen Angel's fitting and then we can get back to work!" Artie called out, as he finished giving approval to Brittany's costume.
Speaking of work, both Kurt and Finn were needed at the shop that day to help Burt, who had recently undergone an operation. The result of which, however, was that the tumor had been removed, as the final step following the intense chemotherapy and radiation he'd been through, and Burt Hummel was officially cancer free. As good as this news was, he was presently in a weakened state, needing all the help he could get. At this point, it was safe to say neither Finn nor Kurt had regretted the decision to take a gap year. And Artie couldn't imagine what he would have done without them, seeing as he was struggling to run rehearsal while simultaneously dealing with the final costume fittings by himself.
"Has anyone seen Jake?" Artie asked again, when the younger Puckerman was nowhere to be found. The others, who were gathered around the stage talking in small huddles and being generally unproductive, now looked his way with vague interest.
"I can explain that," Marley said, wringing her hands and rising to her feet with a bit of a struggle, as she was still figuring out how to move in the pencil skirt. Her character was supposed to be the sexiest, which meant her skirt was the tightest. "Uh, I don't know how to tell you this, Artie, but I just got a text message from him. Jake's been suspended."
Lauren chuckled. "Two apples off of the same tree," she said. "Two bad apples. Tasty apples. But baaad."
The pressure cooker that was Artie Abrams now exploded. "What the f-?" he stopped short of letting out an expletive, for that would have looked highly unprofessional in front of the cast and crew. He angrily unlocked his breaks, as everyone watched to see what his next move would be. "I'm going to go see if Principal Figgins is still here. Sam, you're in charge of rehearsal while I'm gone."
"Yes sir, Mr. Abrams, sir!" Sam saluted him. Not only was he a self-proclaimed method actor, but he took rehearsal very seriously ever single time they met, which naturally made him the person Artie trusted most, next to his co-directors.
"Wait, why are you putting Richie Poor in charge?"
Kitty reappeared onstage. She had been busy changing into Sandy's tight black pants, black corset top, and red stiletto heels. To complete the look, she'd gone ahead and teased her hair backstage and added some bright red lipstick. She caught Artie completely dumbfounded for a few seconds, just long enough for it to be obvious that he'd paused in the middle of his storm-out to gawk at Kitty.
"Because Jake's been suspended," Marley said again. She still hadn't sat back down. Tears had filled her eyes, and Artie was struck with a weird thought that Marley was sort of living out Sandy's story in real life, what with being the good girl linked with the bad boy.
"And I'm going to go find out why," Artie said. He reiterated the chain of command. "Sam's in charge. Run through the last scene again and I'll see it when I get back."
"Alright, alright, alright!" Artie heard Sam address the group in the style of Matthew McConaughey as he wheeled out of there as quickly as he could, hoping to catch Mr. Figgins before he left school and went home for the day.
"Mr. Figgins!" As luck would have it, he'd just managed to catch him. Mr. Figgins was standing in the hall outside his office, pausing to read a text message. He looked up, undoubtedly disappointed to have one more student to deal with before the day was done. Artie stopped right in front of him. "I need to know why you suspended Jake Puckerman!"
"I am not at liberty to discuss another student with you, Mr. Abrams," Mr. Figgins said, sharply. "Why do you need to know about the private matters concerning Mr. Puckerman?"
"Because he's in my show!" Artie exclaimed. He knew that any suspension included not only being suspended from school but also suspension from any extra-curricular activities as well. "Could you at least, I don't know, delay his punishment? Just until after the show? The dress rehearsal is tomorrow and our shows are this weekend!"
"Mr. Abrams, my hands are tied," Mr. Figgins said, in that same manner that he had used so many times in the presence of the glee club, whenever they'd overheard him arguing with Mr. Schuester about why the glee club couldn't have more money for something. "For certain offenses, it's the school board and the superintendent, not myself, who issues the punishment. You can take it up with them!" He cast a look over Artie's head. "And you could always ask Mr. Puckerman to explain it to you himself. He's still sitting outside waiting for his ride, I presume. Good day, sir."
"It definitely isn't that," Artie muttered under his breath, as his principal walked past him to get out the door. Artie turned to watch him go and also to see that Jake was indeed sitting there, probably not even allowed back in the building. He looked up briefly as Figgins walked by him and then looked back down at his phone.
Artie had made up his mind that he wasn't going to let Jake intimidate him, choosing to head outside himself and get the full story. "You could have let me know," he said, his tone hard and unforgiving.
"I did!" Jake looked up, and Artie could see something that looked like genuine remorse etched across his face. "I texted Marley to tell you. Didn't she?"
"Yeah, she did." Artie softened a bit, wheeling closer to the bench where Jake had been sitting there, just passing time with a game on his phone. Artie cocked his head to the side and tried to ease into a conversation about whatever had happened by breaking the ice with something simple. "You like Words with Friends?"
Jake shrugged. "It's okay, I just play it with my mom." He paused. "And Noah."
Noah? Oh... Puck. In all the time since he'd met Jake, this was going to be the first time they'd ever talked, just the two of them. So Artie wasn't aware that Jake even had anything to do with his older half-brother who he initially didn't want others to associate him with.
"You can add me," Artie offered. "I play it sometimes..." Jake gave him a funny look, probably ready for Artie to just get on with the lecture he was expecting. Artie, however, sensed it might be better to attempt to listen than talk. "So, I tried to ask Figgins to delay your punishment. He said he couldn't, because of the nature of whatever it was you did. Which he said he couldn't tell me..."
"I sold cupcakes with marijuana in them," Jake fessed up, without requiring anymore coaxing from Artie. "I iced them with pink icing and sold them for three dollars each while I was selling our 'Grease' tickets the other day..."
"The ones you called the Pink Ladies?" Artie exclaimed. "That's why those were so popular?" He'd nearly bought one himself but three dollars seemed like a lot for one cupcake.
Artie couldn't believe he hadn't caught on sooner to Jake's scheme. They'd been taking turns selling tickets at lunch for the past two weeks, and Artie quickly noticed that popular people and athletes like Kitty, Sam, and Jake were more likely to sell tickets. So he asked them to do it as often as they would. Jake volunteered for several shifts and decided to make a little money on the side selling his baked goods. Artie should have been wise to what Jake was doing, given that his plan wasn't exactly original. He started laughing now and Jake looked offended.
"What's so funny?" he demanded.
"Your brother sold cupcakes laced with the Chronic Lady during his sophomore year," Artie explained, wiping tears. "Sorry. It's not funny. Definitely a bad idea. But he did it first. It's actually the reason we raised enough money to pay for the ramps for the auditorium."
"I was just trying to raise enough money to cover the remainder of the rent," Jake said, barely above a whisper, as Artie immediately stopped laughing.
"Did you explain that to Principal Figgins?" Artie asked, remembering now that Puck had a similar situation, a father who wasn't around, a mother who'd been left to raise a son on her own. Surely being the man of the house was a ton of pressure on someone as young as Jake.
"No," Jake said, sighing and looking at his feet. "I think he was just mad because he wanted his eighteen dollars back after he bought six..." At this, he cracked a smile and Artie couldn't hold back his laughter again. Jake laughed too, though, and Artie was glad he was allowed to laugh at that.
"Kind of wishing I bought one of your Pink Ladies now," Artie said. "I could use something to help me chill out a little."
"I did keep us from getting evicted." Jake looked proud of that. "I'm probably lucky I wasn't expelled. I just don't want to leave. I actually like this school. Especially Marley."
"We like having you here, too," Artie said, in complete honesty. They weren't exactly the same person, but he and Puck shared an incredible number of the same good qualities, the qualities that made Artie like Puck so much in the first place.
"I'm sorry about the show," he said. "I really did want to be in it."
"It's fine," Artie said, then quickly amended his statement, not wishing for Jake to misunderstand. "I mean, it's not fine, it sucks, but that's why I asked Kurt to understudy your part, I guess..." He trailed off, with neither guy knowing what to say now. "You have a ride, right?"
My mom's on her way to pick me up, and she's taking me for an interview at her restaurant," said Jake. "If I get the job – and she says they're ready to hire me, now that I'm sixteen – then I'll probably have to work this weekend anyway. So, even if you somehow did reverse my suspension... I'll be busy." He paused. "Why Kurt? He graduated already, isn't that kind of weird?"
"Well, he can hit that note at the end," Artie pointed out, shrugging.
"Why don't you do it?" Jake wanted to know.
Artie didn't know if Jake was just being polite or just not using his head. "Because I can't climb up those stairs that Coach Beiste built us," he said, as a car pulled into the now nearly-empty parking lot. Jake just nodded.
"That's my mom," Jake said, getting to his feet and hoisting his backpack up on his shoulder. "Uh, listen, thanks. For being understanding about all this. I really am sorry. It's gonna be a great show. I'll still come and see the Saturday matinee, and I'll bring my mom."
"I'll have free tickets waiting for you both," Artie told him. "You'll still do glee club when it's over, right?" Lauren still wasn't interested. Nobody else was. Without Jake, they didn't have twelve.
"Oh, for sure," he said, adding in complete seriousness, "I'm really glad I found glee club."
As he watched Jake climb into his mother's car, Artie rolled his eyes at the way the other guy recounted how he'd found glee club. He hadn't found anything. They had found him. And now, at least for the moment, they'd lost him.
Artie went back to the auditorium to break the news to the others and found them in the midst of performing the grand finale. He stopped by the doorframe and watched them there, in the exact spot where Mr. Schue had watched them perform 'Don't Stop' for the first of many, many times. Therefore, it shouldn't have startled him nearly as much as it did when he heard Schue's smattering of applause right over his head. Next to him was his fiancé (yes, fiancé, apparently the engagement took place over the summer), Ms. Pillsbury, also applauding their last number and Coach Beiste, who whistled sharply and let out a loud whoop.
"Great job everyone, gather 'round!" called Artie, his authoritative voice calling out loudly from the back of the stage. He went to the front of the auditorium as the group all came to their usual place on the edge of the stage, where he'd give them notes following rehearsals. Today, he had none. Just bad news.
"Jake isn't going to be able to do the show with us," he announced, catching Mr. Schuester's eye as the teacher shook his head in disappointment.
Artie wished he could say more, to tell them all that Jake wasn't just making trouble. Well, he was but not for the sake of being a "bad boy." He'd actually had a reason that put him in the best possible light. Hopefully Marley knew. She seemed to be really good for Jake, and Artie had found himself rooting for the two of them.
"So, we need a new Teen Angel," Wade spoke up. "Could Teen Angel be a woman? Unique will do it! I could make a quick change into a evening gown and gloves backstage!"
"I think I'd prefer to stick with the more traditional version of Teen Angel that everyone's most familiar with," Artie said, hoping that comment didn't make him sound intolerant. "So, tomorrow before dress rehearsal, we'll have Kurt run through the scene with the girls and Sugar."
"Kurt?" echoed Ms. Pillsbury. "But... he's not a student. I know you enlisted the alumni as your understudies, Artie, but that's as a last resort, right?"
"This is kind of a last-resort situation," Artie explained, confused by his counselor's comment. "We don't have anybody else."
"Why don't you do it?" Ryder spoke up, seemingly on the same page as his friend and sometimes-rival, Jake, without even knowing it.
"Because..." Artie looked at the rest of them, all nodding eagerly in agreement with Ryder, all of them seemingly just as thick as Jake. "It would throw off the entire thing if Teen Angel were sitting and not standing. We have this beautiful set... with stairs... just like in the movie."
"A whole bunch of things in this show aren't like the movie," Kitty interjected, hopping off the stage and approaching Artie, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We could work out something different for the blocking. C'mon, we all like the idea of you singing the song. All in favor of Artie being the new Teen Angel?" And she thrust her hand in the air.
"Guys, wait," Artie said, interrupting them as their hands went up to vote 'yes' to the idea. "This is not a democracy. I'm the director, and I say Kurt's doing it, okay?"
"I'm not doing it."
"What?" Artie followed Kurt as he got up from the desk in his father's small office and headed into the shop to bringing a tool to Finn, who was in the middle of rotating some tires. "You said you'd be his understudy!"
"I reluctantly agreed to step in, in the event of an emergency," Kurt said. "You still have a day and it's just one scene, right? Please, Artie, figure something else out. It's embarrassing enough that I'm at the school so much. I don't need anyone to see me onstage, reliving my glory days."
Artie put his head in his hands. Any minute now, one of them was going to say it. Three... two...
"Why don't you just do it, Artie?" Finn suggested, rolling out from under the car and sitting up. "Why don't you play Teen Angel?"
"In my chair, really?" Artie fixed him with a dubious look. "There are no wheelchairs in heaven, Finn. That definitely doesn't fit my vision of Teen Angel."
"Not in your chair," Finn argued back. "We could like, prop you up on that staircase thing against some fluffy white pillows."
"That sounds horrible," Artie said, dryly. He shook his head. "No. No, no, no. Teen Angel propped up against a whole bunch of pillows, immobilized, does not fit my vision of this scene."
"You're not immobilized," Finn shot back, scowling at him. "You know, if it was anyone else saying this about you, I'd tell them not to sell my friend, Artie, short. Not to discriminate against you because you're in a wheelchair."
Finn sure did have a way of shining the light on a situation. He sounded exactly like Kitty, who hadn't given up on her crusade to convince him to be in the show. She was being pushy, yeah, but at the same time, he'd been sort of touched by what she'd said in her texts. You're so talented, the last one read. I'd hate to see the audience miss out on an incredible performance because you refuse to share your gift.
When Artie was stunned speechless, it was Kurt who spoke up next. "I think I have an idea," he said, grinning the kind of grin that someone had when they'd truly been inspired. "So, Carole was totally expecting both me and Finn to move out this year. She took over our basement, borrowed my vanity, and got this salon chair off a friend who didn't need it anymore to set up her own in-house salon. Did I ever mention my step-mother's a stylist? Probably why she and I get along so well. Anyway, Finn and I moved upstairs, we didn't really mind..."
"Where are you going with all this?" Artie wanted to know.
"We borrow Carole's salon chair!" Kurt exclaimed. "We can have you sing to Frenchy from that chair and switch up the choreography to have the girls dance around you in their capes and curler caps. I personally like it better than the original idea!"
Artie's mouth gaped open. He was used to having all the ideas, telling everyone how to execute them, telling them again when it wasn't right, and so forth. To have Kurt suggest the most brilliant solution to the issue at hand, well, he was dumbfounded to say the least.
"Kurt... that's... that's brilliant," he stammered.
"Yeah, well, eventually it was going to rub off." Kurt looked extremely proud of himself.
"You guys," Artie began, looking back and forth between the two of them incredulously. "Are the best co-directors a dude could have. Thank you. Thanks, Finn, for not letting me count myself out. And thanks, Kurt, for being a creative genius."
"Now all you have to worry about is hitting that last note," Kurt added, with a grin.
"Oh, shit," said Artie, grinning back. "There's the actual problem. My falsetto's gonna need some work."
"We'll get you there," Kurt assured him.