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cosmic-navel-gazin · 4 years

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In which I chronicle my Legacy of Kain journey and bridge it with your boy Adam Warlock! (Part 5 of many, and MASSIVE, I MEAN, HUMOUNGOUS SPOILERS for Soul Reaver 2 and the 1970’s Warlock)

Awwwwwwwww yeah we are going there, these compositions are most definitely on purpose.

This is where I realize that my true purpose in this world is to draw and talk about obscure or forgotten works of fiction, and I embrace this destiny.

Ladies and gents, laughing times are over (not really though), sh*t gets very real again.

I guess it’s a bit late for this but if you have even the slightest interest in checking any of these properties out, do yourself a favor and go experience them first hand. If you just want to see me lose my mind and don’t really care about spoilers then please, proceed.

You know, when I started this little crossover of sorts, I was just having a laugh you know? It was just a cute little thing, I’ll write this one post and maybe I’ll get enough material for a second one and that’s it. THIS IS THE SEVENTH POST (even though it says Part 5).

Never, and I do mean never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be here one day, talking about having your past and your time-travelling-future selves meet and clash, of seeing your sanctimonious attitude and overall the worst about yourself personified and given free reign to go on bloodthirsty crusades showing off how much of a hypocrite you’ve bee- but wait, I am getting a bit ahead of myself.

I’ll get there I promise, let’s go back a bit.

Where we last left off, we managed to travel back to an even more distant past than we’ve been before. To the time of the great Vampire Purge, so that Raziel can meet this infamous ancient vampire who knows all the lore and might have the answers we seek on what exactly is causing the corruption of our world.

As we step out into this era of History we notice the fields covered with the Sarafan Order banners, and the impaled corpses and chopped-off heads of vampires. No different no doubt from the kindness vampires showed mankind later when they gained the upper hand during Kain’s 1.000 year old reign. Raziel seems a bit distraught by the sight since he assumed the Sarafan to be virtuous and heroic:

“For all the butchery of Moebius’s crusade, this massacre was somehow more chilling. The killing fields of the Sarafan betrayed a kind of orderly ruthlessness, the cold-blooded righteousness of the true believer.”

“Here at last in the flesh, I beheld my former brothers-in-arms, the warrior-priests of the Sarafan order; their lives devoted solely to the annihilation of the vampire plague. And while I confess I felt a twinge of longing, a pang of grief for what I had believed was my lost virtue, I regarded them now with none of the reverence I formally felt. For I had seen the human face of the vampires, and now I beheld the monstrousness of these men.”

While on the topic of genocidal holy wars, my boy Adam here had a bit of a run with a similar pious little group that goes by the name of Universal Church of Truth, who were going about doing a bit of cleaning throughout the galaxy:

Things don’t go so well:

Interestingly enough, I’ve learned of a deleted cutscene for Soul Reaver 2 that plays out very similarly to Adam’s first encounter with this “holy” order. There was this minor female vampire character that was being hunted down and would be executed by vampire hunters right in front of Raziel.

This scene was probably removed because they knew that almost 20 years later there would be some asshole on the internet trying to compare their games to obscure marvel comics of the 70’s.

But yeah bummer for Adam here, we’re a couple of pages in and he’s already failed to save someone. However, through the power of the Soul Gem, he’s able to retain her soul for a brief moment, letting us know more about these holy inquisitors:

Some of these methods don’t seem that far off from the Sarafan, especially on the twisting of good intentions part, but on a galactic scale:

Aye, a great bunch o’ fellas all around, if you submit and “fit in”:

Damn.

Hush Adam, I’ll get back to your predicament give me a moment. I just want the good people at home to keep both this church and the Magus, the god they worship in mind for later.

Now, back to the game. In the Sarafan Stronghold during the first hour of gameplay, Raziel made comments on the vampire he’s currently seeking while looking at some stained glass depictions:

“So this was the legendary Janos Audron - reputed to have been the most ancient and diabolical vampire to have ever existed. According to folklore, he lived high in the cliffs of Nosgoth’s northern mountains, and preyed mercilessly on the defenseless villagers below. His reign of terror ended when the Sarafan finally hunted him down and tore his throbbing heart from his still-living body. (…) But I wondered - could Janos Audron truly have been as monstrous as depicted here? Or was this merely artistic licence by the Sarafan, who sought to lionize themselves by demonizing their darkest enemy?

Keep these stained glass images in mind, they’ll also be important shortly. Neetheless to say, the hype was very real to meet this Janos Audron.

And as I kept hearing about this gentleman, I thought: “I really love this cast of pricks, where everyone speaks in half truths and is hiding something and has some hidden agenda, but you know, I kind of wish there was some slim ray of hope, of goodness and honor, just some good old plain chivalry and honesty. Maybe this Janos lad won’t be as bad as he was depicted back in the Sarafan Stronghold.”

It took us a while but we’re finally make it to his retreat.

I really love the entire segment, the hopelessness and feeling of dread while making your way through this place, probably my favourite puzzle area of the game. I also really love the music and architecture here.

When we do make it to the top, BOY OH BOY were my prayers answered!

Lo and behold, enter Raziel’s new daddy/mentor figure, my man JANOS AUDRON! Proabably the one decent and kind creature I’ve seen yet in these games (if you don’t count helpless human npcs who are just trying to live their lives but are caught in all these wars, slaughter and destruction).

FINALLY an understanding, moderate, compassionate man in the midst of all the lies and deception. I love him! Oh and he has what seems to be a Romanian accent. Maybe a nod to the granddaddy of all vampires: Dracula? I think his design is cool as well, so that helps.

Before we go into huge lore dumps and while on the topic of having a brief father/mentor figure for your protagonist when he’s utterly lost, alone and confused, I thought I’d bridge it with Adam’s own once foster parent, the High Evolutionary:

From the few minutes you get to know these dads they’re very different characters with different backstories and motivations. Janos is this sad lonely old man, the last of the ancient vampires and one who has been keeping himself alive solely for his sense of duty.

While the High Evolutionary was once a man called Herbert Wyndham who performed an experiment that evolved him into a godlike being. This experience proved to be such an assault on his senses and perceptions that he chose to encase himself in this armour. Like the name suggests he is obsessed with genetic manipulation and tampering of various kinds, it is his life’s ambition.

Despite his somewhat villainous appearance, he’s never portrayed as such from what little I’ve read, he’s just…a bit creepy. Like, he takes Adam in and is super stoked about adopting him, but he also values him not so much as a person per se as you and me would, but more as one would value an impressivly carved piece of work:

I don’t know, maybe it’s his metal face that doesn’t emote much; his sometimes questionable morality; maybe it’s the fact that Adam was 5 years old at this point, a baby boy, and this pink armoured deity is super hyped about him; there’s something a bit unsettling about this guy. Have some more dubious quotes I’ve stumbled upon:

All in all, I think he did care about him, in his own strange way:

Anyway, what’s important is that these adoptive dads serve a somewhat similar purpose, and that is to push/urge our ”“”“"heroes”“”“” (I say with many quotation marks) into a more benevolant role: to guide them in their messianic mission and save a corrupted world. Basically there to provide a chance for them to be good boys. Up until now their track record leaves much to be desired, and they’ve been quite lost on what they’re supposed to be and do.

Raziel:

“So it’s all true, then - what Kain and Vorador have told me - I really am some kind of unholy vampire messiah…”

Janos:

“Unholy? -no. Messiah… perhaps.”

Raziel:

“I don’t like that word - it smells of martyrdom.”

Janos:

“Raziel, your role in this world’s destiny is more crucial - and more benevolent - than you’ve allowed yourself to believe. Your journey will not be easy - dark powers are allied against you.”

Oh and both dads give their sons their toys (Soul Reaver and Soul Gem):

Back to the meeting with Janos, we finally learn tons of things, both new and others that have been hinted at throughout, namely:

Janos has been living a life of a recluse, alone, on top of the Aerie;

Janos knows of Raziel (some old legend I think) and has been waiting for him to hand him over the Soul Reaver, saying it is the key to save Nosgoth;

The Pillars of Nosgoth were erected by the ancient vampires and they were the rightful guardians. Janos was called to be th 10th guardian, the Keeper of the Reaver;

Over time this ancient race started to die out, with their history slowly being forgotten;

Humanity prospered and since the Pillars choose their guardians from birth and vampires were no longer born, humans were called to be their guardians but were “wholly ignorant of their true purpose.”

The Circle of human guardians is led to believe (by whom we do not yet know) that vampires are a cancer in the world. Janos warns that “with their vampire purge, the members of the Circle have assaulted the very architects of the Pillars they are sworn to protect (…) With every vampire they kill, the humans are slitting their own throats.”

Janos being a cool level-headed guy here when Raziel says he must hate mankind for all the suffering they’ve brought to him:

“They fear what they don’t understand; and they despise what they fear. But no - I do not hate them.”

I find it funny how Raziel asks if humanity should be forgiven for trying to exterminate the vampire kind and doesn’t realize that: one, he himself was exterminating vampires just a couple of moments ago back in SR1; and two, how he is just like how Janos describes humanity to be:

“They don’t understand what they’re doing. They are simply unenlightened… and vulnerable to manipulation.”

Again, this last line, completely unlike a certain blue shambling corpse I know. Not like him AT ALL.

Then, as they head inside, we learn something odd as Janos presents Raziel with the Reaver. You see, the two times Raziel has been close to the Soul Reaver still in its physical form, reality started to bend and distort (I show it off in this previous post).

When we met Kain and decided not to kill him, he explained that when: “two incarnations of the blade meet in time and space, a paradox is created, a temporal distortion powerful enough to derail history”

This distortion, or sense of displacement however, is nowhere to be found now when Janos presents the blade to him. Raziel feels nothing and says that “this nothingness is somehow worse…” and to get it away from him.

We learn the Reaver was forged by the same ancient vampire race that erected the Pillars (which we’ve seen hinted at when we explored the land and came accross all sorts of old murals).

But now THIS is when the game first impales me through the heart.

Me and Janos are interrupted by the Sarafan warriors who arrive carrying Moebius’ Staff (which disables vampires to the point of being barely able to move at all).

And of course! OF COURSE! Of course the moment my boy Raziel finds a truly positive influence in his life to guide and enlinghten him, and that was willing to put himself in danger in order to save him… he is axed! HEART RIPPED FROM HIS CHEST!

And by whom you ask? Who would do such a deed and kill my last ray of hope?

WHY, ME!

TWICE!

“Me” because I was the one to open an entrance to Janos’ up until then impenetrable retreat, and literally me: human Raziel of the Sarafan that lived during this time period and was head inquisitor!

A bit different from what was depicted back at the Sarafan Stronghold, we found several centuries later (putting the same image here again so you don’t have to scroll up to compare, am I swell or what?):

The Sarafan escape with Janos’ heart and the Reaver, while wraith Raziel has a final moment with Janos.

This part destroys me:

Raziel:

“Forgive me; I’m sorry… I failed you.”

Janos: (gently)

“No, Raziel. Perhaps this was my true purpose - simply to save your life this once.”

Raziel: (distraught)

“While I have taken yours…”

That last bit is probably my favourite line-read in the entire series so far (which is the most impossible thing to choose since there are so many great ones). But I think it’s the overwhelming sadness in Raziel’s voice that makes it memorable, you’ve never seen him feel like this for another creature.

Breaks my stone hardened heart every time I listen to it. And here’s why I think it’s an effective emotional scene, even though we only get a few minutes with Janos before he is murdered - it is because of contrast. Up until now everyone you meet is some degree of a bad or manipulative person, and you don’t really have a true friend or someone to confide in, there’s no one that really brings out the best in Raziel and it sucks because there is potential there. So when you introduce the apparently only decent and noble person in this god forsaken land and you’re so used to by now suspect and mistrust everyone, it is impactful because he was truth and honesty in a sea of deception and moral relativism. He was my light in the midst of the fog and the one who saw good in me. And right when you’re finally relaxing and getting confortable the game pulls the rug from under you.

Now, while on the topic of having your past and future meet, there was a little something about the meeting between Adam and the Universal Church of Truth that I’ve been saving up until now. If you remember, Adam was interrogating the young woman who was killed by the inquisitors about the church and the god they worship. When suddenly:

Good news is, Adam must’ve taken a left turn somewhere and ended up on the set for “Monty Python’s Life of Brian”, where he learned some latin:

This helped him quickly figure out the Magus’ identity:

Learn your dead tongues kids, you never know when it might come in handy when meeting your time travelling, thousands of years old future-self:

So as you can se, we have a similar self-discovery journey going on but reversed in a way. In Raziel’s case you play as his future self, who time travels back in time, meets his past self and sees what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. In Adam’s case you follow his present self, who meets the Magus (his future self), who has travelled back in time 5.000 years, in which time he has built his empire. Meeting and confronting said empire/future self, leads Adam to see what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. You see, both Adam and Raziel have always been their own worst enemy (their own shortcomings and character flaws). So it would be only natural that we get embodiments of the worst in them: Raziel, the human Sarafan Warrior and the Magus, their past and future selves respectively.

Oof, this was a long one, and I’ve reach the character limit. In the next post I’ll elaborate more on their characters and different selves; and we go through the roller-coaster of emotions that is the endgame for both these stories.

Look foward to me losing my mind even further while I go into time travelling, paradox shenanigans… oh, and look foward to happier times with COSMIC SUICIDE! See you in the near future.

#the infinity legacy #legacy of kain #soul reaver 2 #raziel #adam warlock #the magus #marvel comics #marvel cosmic #this post drained my spirit #my fan art

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ranwing · 7 years

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Kadam Fic: Just Breathe (11/12)

Title: Just Breathe Series: Season Four Remix Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Camen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Blaine Anderson, Sam Evans, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters Rating: PG13 (Rating may change) Genre(s): canon divergence, major lol Klaine and Blaine. Parts: 11/12

Summary: Auditions mean new challenges for Kurt and those around him, forcing him to face both his past and his future.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

On AO3

The final weeks of the spring semester arrived inauspiciously, deceptive in its air of normalcy. But all too quickly the realities of what the students of NYADA would be facing became apparent and promised to be as insane as Kurt and Rachel had feared. All of their instructors suddenly seemed determined to test how long it would take to break them with the steady escalation of their already difficult demands. Rather than easing into the end of the semester, the pressure was ramped up to levels that neither of them had ever experienced before. Kurt looked over his test schedule in horror when he realized that in a two week period, he would have to survive not only his dance, voice and acting critiques, but all of his written exams as well.

Rachel’s eyes widened in horror when she reviewed her own schedule. “This is impossible,” she moaned. “How do I have my second day of dance on the same day as my theory exam?”

“We’re in the same boat. I’ve got three written tests in one day,” Kurt complained, resigning himself to his fate. “I think we can say goodbye to our free time for the foreseeable future.”

Rachel nodded, giving a small huff of frustration. “And forget about sleep.”

Kurt sighed, offering her a reassuring smile. “We’d be dealing with this no matter where we went to school,” he reminded his friend. “We’ll get through this. This is just us showing what we know we can do.”

Rachel nodded, resigned to her fate. “For you, maybe,” she granted. “But I’m not exactly the teachers’ favorite anymore and they’re going to be looking for me to fail.”

She sighed, looking over her schedule again. “That’s totally my fault. I really screwed myself.”

Kurt wouldn’t insult his friend by trying to disagree with her on that point. Her behavior the past few months had burned through what leniency she could have expected from her teachers. “You’re always your best when you’ve got something to prove,” he asserted. “I think you’re going to surprise a lot of people.”

Rachel looked up at him with a gratified smile, thankful to have his support. “I just wish that I wasn’t so stupid to let it get to this point,” she said repentantly. “But I have no one to blame by myself.”

Kurt knew that trying to deny what both of them knew was the reality that she was facing. If he was completely honest, seeing his friend so completely accepting of her responsibility for her current situation took him a bit by surprise. As did her determination to prove that she did deserve her spot at NYADA. If there was one thing that Kurt knew about his friend was that if she put her mind to something, there was little that could stand in her way.

He took her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re going to get through this,” he promised.

* * *

While they might not seem quite as harried as the younger students, the seniors facing graduation didn’t have it any easier than their younger counterparts did. Senior projects and presentations were all but finished, and the reality of facing life outside the safety of their school was truly starting to sink in as graduation day rapidly approached. Fears about finding gainful employment in one of the most competitive industries imaginable was starting to wear on even the most confident of them.

Adam knew that he was more fortunate than most. With the course of study he’d pursued, he had the potential to find work both on and off the stage. His preference would certainly be to find a job as a performer, but if there were no roles forthcoming he knew that he would be able to find a job on the production side of things. Less glamorous, perhaps, but it would allow him to pay his rent and give him time to build his acting career. Even under the worst of circumstances, he knew that he would be able to manage.

He’d had a bit of good fortune so far in that he had signed with a very good agent. Thomas Reagan might not run the largest agency in the city, but he was selective in the talent that he signed and gave his clients his full attention. He had taken on a number of NYADA graduates over the years, finding them good and consistent work. Adam had been happy to sign with him and was excited to be called in to the office to discuss his prospects.

“Hi Adam,” Mr. Reagan greeted, shaking the younger man’s hand. “Thanks for coming by today. I’ve got some interesting things to discuss with you.”

“Thanks,” Adam said sincerely, taking the offered chair.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” Adam refused politely, having made the mistake of accepting the offer at his first meeting with the agent. Mr. Reagan might be well regarded professionally but capabilities did not extend to brewing a drinkable cup of coffee.

“Well, let’s cut to the chase,” the agent proposed as he sat down at his desk. “The last time we spoke, you mentioned that you’re committed to a summer production if I remember right.”

Adam nodded. “Yes, we start rehearsals right after I graduate and the festival runs through mid-August. I would be free to attend auditions from now through the end of the school term, and then right after the festival closes. Is that an issue?”

The agent considered the schedule and shook his head. “I don’t think so. There are several shows that are holding auditions in the coming couple of weeks that I’d like to send you out for and it’ll give us a chance to test the waters. What I’d like to get a sense of is what kind of roles really interest you. Is there a particular genre you’d prefer, or want to avoid?”

“I’m not inclined to be too fussy,” Adam admitted. “My first priority at this stage is to be working, so I’m not going to turn down anything decent. Off-Broadway and regional theater roles is more than fine if that’s what comes up. I’m thinking that I’d probably do better with straight plays than musicals, but I did take voice training and I think that I could do well with some musicals if the song book isn’t overly ambitious. I’m well aware of my limitations.”

His agent nodded, making a few notes. “I’m going to be sending out your CV to a few producers that have new shows in the works for the upcoming season. There are also some shows that will have replacement spots opening up. Some are chorus spots, but there are also some supporting roles that I think you’d be a nice fit with. A few need an actor that has a good grasp of accents.”

Adam grinned. “Well, I definitely have the British one down fairly well.”

Mr. Reagan chuckled, looking over his list again. “Okay then… I plan to keep you pretty busy for the next few weeks,” he warned. “We’ll be mindful of your school schedule, but I want to get you in front of as many directors as possible. I think that you’re highly marketable and it’s just going to be a matter of getting you in front of the right people at the right time. But I don’t think you have to worry. We’ll be able to get you work.”

“That’s something of a relief,” Adam admitted. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you, then.”

Mr. Reagan smiled and shook Adam’s hand again. “I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got some auditions set up.”

Adam walked out of the office, giving the secretary a cheery wave and felt much better about his employment prospects. It was one thing to think that you yourself had a chance and he knew that he was talent. But it was immensely gratifying and reassuring to have a professional in the business think that you had potential.

Despite his satisfaction at how their meeting had gone, Adam was at heart a realist. He knew that it would take a bit of time to get his career off the ground and find the right role and had to be determined and patient. In the meantime, he had his afternoon Theater Management class to focus on.

He was ready to graduate, he thought to himself as he listened to his professor drone on about the complexities of budgets and managing personnel. Four years of study had thought him a great deal and he was eager to start moving on with his career and start putting what he’d learned into practical action. He loved this school and all of the friends he’d made there, but he’d be the worst liar in the world if he didn’t admit that he was starting to feel a little constrained by the student environment. It was time for him to start moving on.

Once the class was dismissed, Adam gathered his things and set out for his final class of the day, moving through the hallways swarmed with younger students. He felt like a salmon trying to swim upstream as he deftly dodged underclassmen who were rushing to their own lessons. At one time, the crowd of bodies might have annoyed him, but now he could only look on them fondly. He wouldn’t be around to enjoy it much longer.

“Adam!”

He turned at hearing his name to see Mags running down the hallway in his direction, her mohawk flapping behind her. She landed in his arms with the force of a flying cannon ball, forcing him to spin in order to defuse the momentum of her blow and avoid being bowled over.

“Ooph… got you,” he grunted, swinging her about. “What’s got you so excited?”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes shining behind her glasses.”I got it! I got the job!”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You did? That’s bloody marvelous, darling,” he exclaimed, hugging her tightly and swinging her about.

“I didn’t think I would get it,” she insisted, her voice becoming an excited babble. “They’re one of the best production units!”

“I’m so happy for you,” Adam said happily, hugging her again. “You deserve this.”

“There’s only one downside,” Mags warned, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. “I’m going to have to move. The job is in L.A.”

That didn’t come as a total surprise to Adam. Despite there being a thriving film and television industry in New York, he’d known that the odds were fairly high that Mags would have to relocate for her work.

“We were sort of expecting that,” he reminded gently, keeping his arm wrapped about her. “But I wouldn’t exactly call that a downside. To be in a city absolutely overflowing with all kinds of creative people… I think that you’re going to love it there.”

“It is exciting, but I’m going to be all alone there,” she said hesitantly. “All of my friends are here.”

Adam’s smile faltered at the reminder that his best friend would soon be on the other side of the country. “But it will be easier to see your folks,” he reminded, looking for the silver lining for his friend. With Mag’s family on the west coast, she’d only seen them once or twice a year since starting school in New York. “And you never have trouble making new friends. You’ll be fine.”

She gave her friend a tentative smile. “You’re trying very hard to convince me to go through with it,” she accused half-heartedly.

Adam sighed, knowing full well the kind of misgivings she was feeling. To jump without a net to catch you if you faltered was one of the scariest propositions that anyone could face. He’d done that when he left England to seek an education in America. Kurt did that when he’d arrived in New York with nothing more than his ambitions and his dreams.

He pulled her close, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. “Because it’s what you want to do,” he reminded her. “This is your chance and I don’t want to see you let it slip away because you’re afraid that you might lose your friends. Because that is never going to happen.”

She nestled again him, taking a bit of comfort from his presence. “I know. I[m just being silly,” she sighed.

“I do understand,” Adam assured her, not wanting to see her let her doubts hold her back. “But you are going to be amazing there, and I can’t wait to hear all your stories about how crazy Hollywood can be.

“And if you don’t mind me sharing the good news with the rest of the group, we have to plan a proper celebration,” he insisted, pulling her along with him. “Something really spectacular because this deserves it.”

Mags couldn’t help from laughing and nodding in acceptance. “It’s really happening,” she marveled as they walked down the hallway. “Graduation… the real world…”

“Yup… and we’re going to be fine,” he promised.

She looked at him with a sad, winsome smile. “Yes we are. Aren’t we?”

Adam nodded, refusing to give into doubt. The world awaited them outside of NYADA’s walls and it was time for them to face it.

* * *

Cassandra July turned on her heel to face her exhausted class, her eyes glinting dangerously when she saw the limp, flailing mess that was left of her students.

“Okay, listen up!” she demanded, her voice cracking like a whip. “As you all should be well aware of, your final critiques are next week. Over the next two classes, I am going to be evaluating you on all the skills that you were supposed to learn. I’m not going to be correcting you in any way during class. This is all about seeing if you actually know what you’re supposed to be doing and can correct yourself.

“You’re going to be judged on form, timing and body of knowledge. If you don’t know a grant jeté from a grand pilé at this point, don’t bother showing up.”

She looked over her class with the kind of appraisal that a leopard might show a herd of wounded gazelles. “I want to see that I haven’t been wasting my time in this room. The ones who haven’t been practicing all semester are going to be very apparent, so don’t think that you’re going to fool me. Whatever happens next week is completely on you.”

She dismissed them with a curt bark and Rachel felt herself falling back against the barre with an exhausted gasp. She knew that next week was going to be horrible and that realistically there was no way she would be able to convince Ms. July that she was ready to move on to the next level of classes. No matter how well she performed, she knew that she would be found lacking. The best she could hope for was to show enthusiasm and some technical improvement, maybe enough to show that she deserved to be advanced.

Ms. July’s normally harsh criticisms of her efforts had been strangely absent the last few classes. Rachel didn’t know if she could take that as a small sign that she was improving, or if the teacher had simply washed her hands of her problematic student. She knew that Ms. July would not hesitate to flunk her, and she couldn’t afford a failing grade. Not if she wanted to keep her spot at NYADA.

Waiting until the rest of the class retreated to the dressing rooms, Rachel gathered up the shreds of her confidence and approached her teacher carefully. Ms. July was doing some easy stretches to keep her muscles warm for her next class, one of her long legs propped up on the barre.

“Ms. July?” she said with as much poise as she could muster. “Do you have a moment?”

The dance teacher gave a low huff of annoyance. “What is it, Schwimmer? I thought I told you to clear out with the rest of the class. Don’t you have some practice to not bother with?”

Rachel ignored the sting of the harsh reprimand and licked her lips, her mouth suddenly gone try from nervousness. “I was hoping…” She paused, trying to figure out a way to make her request without offending the older woman. “I know that it’s probably a little late, but I was hoping you might have some advice… or help… Something so I can do better next week?”

Ms. July gave her a long, penetrating stare, as if weighting out the sincerity of her appeal. “You’re joking, right? Don’t you think it’s a little later for you to be asking for help?” she finally demanded, not bothering to hide her frustration.

“Ms. July…”

The older woman shook her head in bewilderment, cutting her off. “You had months to ask me for help,” she reminded bluntly. “Months! I’ve been telling you for the longest time that you weren’t measuring up. I warned you weeks ago that weren’t going to pass. Why did you wait until right before your critique to ask me about what you could do?”

Rachel felt herself whither a bit inside at the admonishment, knowing full well that Ms. July was right. “I know that I should have asked earlier, but I wasn’t ready to ask for help,” she admitted. “The past few weeks… it’s obvious that I took at lot of things for granted and I wasn’t giving my education the attention that it deserved.”

“You acted like a spoiled brat,” Ms. July corrected bluntly, not hiding the distain in her voice. “You spent your entire time in my class more interested in being proven right than actually learning anything.”

Rachel felt her stomach clench uncomfortably at the harsh reproach, but she couldn’t deny what her teacher was accusing her of. If she had any hope of salvaging the semester, she had to get Ms. July to see sincere her contrition was.

“You’re right,” she said honestly. “My behavior was inexcusable. I let my ego get the best of me and I didn’t give you the effort that you deserved from me. But I promise that I did learn from you! I’m a much better dancer than I was before I came here.”

“Oh really? Then give me a double turn,” Ms. July demanded, stepping back to give Rachel room. “On the right lead.”

Rachel hesitated, knowing that her teacher was setting her up to fail and not wanting to just walk into a trap.

“Go on,” Ms. July snapped. “Or are you just wasting more of my time?”

She inhaled and stepped forward, balancing on the ball of her right foot and pushed off with her left leg with enough momentum to get two spins out if it. She tried to keep her left leg tucked up and her right leg straight as she completed the two rotations, coming to a halt with just a trace of a wobble. It wasn’t terrible, but she knew that there was no way that Ms. July would be satisfied with her form.

The teacher shook her head in annoyance, her patience clearly at and end. “You don’t even see what you’re doing wrong! Your hips weren’t level and you didn’t even try to spot…” She gave an exasperated grunt, gesturing at Rachel’s body. “You’re dancing like you never stepped foot in my class and these are just the basics! I don’t have three months to show you what you should have been learning all along!”

Rachel sighed in dejection, realizing just how deep the a hole she’d dug herself into. “But I know I can catch up,” she insisted, desperately hoping to convince Ms. July of her sincerity. “I promise that I’ll work extra hard next semester. You don’t need to hold me back.”

The older woman shook her head. “Berry, if you think that next semester will be any easier, you’re just kidding yourself. The next classes are all about building on what you were supposed to learn here. If you don’t have these basics down, you’ll never be able to keep up. You’d just end up falling further behind.”

She picked up her hand towel and patted the back of her neck with it, staring at the younger woman with a look of bemused frustration. “Look… just practice your basics,” she advised. “It’s not going to transform you into a dancer, but let’s see what you actually learned. I’ll give you an impartial and thorough critique and we’ll figure out where you go from there.”

Rachel could only watch as her teacher stalked out of the dance studio, leaving her to ponder just how she could possibly fix what she had so carelessly messed up. To be honest, Ms. July had been a lot fairer than she had any right to expect after how she’d behaved. It was mortifying when she thought back to how disrespectful she had been and while the insults still grated, she had no one to blame for her lack of advancement but herself.

Her only hope now was to do her best and pray that it would be enough. And if she did fail, that she would be able to show her willingness to learn from her mistakes and that she deserved one more chance. She could do better… she had to…

* * *

Madam Tibideaux looked over the expectant faces of her students, already making mental judgments over which of them might not be there in the fall. There were one or two that she wouldn’t be surprised to see to drop out, worn down by the rigorous demands that would only get harder as they continued their education. And there were a few that she might very well end up failing if they didn’t suitably impress her during their critiques.

She leaned back against her desk, wondering who might surprise her in the end. “So here we are,” she pronounced. “The final weeks of the school year. You’ve all given me a great deal to think of in regards to your development and this critique will be your final exam that shows me what you’ve truly learned in this room.”

She paused, cocking her head thoughtfully. “I’ve given a great deal of reflection as to what I wanted to consider and how best to test for it. You all have unique talents and unique weaknesses and having you perform a single song will only show me so much. So what I’ve got in mind is going to be a real test of your abilities.”

She smiled at the low murmur coming from her students as they digested what she was telling them. Several of them looked concerned, others merely curious at what she was proposing. Time for her to lower the boom.

“You won’t be singing one song,” she warned. “You’ll be singing three.”

She paused, letting her students wince and groan at the pronouncement. “Yes, I know… I know you weren’t expecting it and it’s a lot to manage in a relatively short period of time. Which is why it’s an ideal challenge for you. This is going to give you all the opportunity to show me who you are as performers. You’re going to need to select material from a variety of genres that will show all that you are capable of as singers. You will need sound technique to perform three pieces back to back without strain or a loss in vocal quality.

“This is also where your knowledge of music and your originality will come into play. Where you will really get to show me how you see yourselves as artists. I want to see an interesting assortment of songs from each of you. You’re going to have the freedom to sing whatever you believe will show your voice and your artistry to its best advantage. I want to see your hearts and your spirits; not just your voices.”

She offered her class a soft smile, softening the blow a bit. “Choose your material carefully. We’re going to see what kind of performers you’ve matured into.”

She dismissed the class with a reminder that they had only a week to figure out their material, sweeping out of the room and leaving confusion and worries in her wake. Rachel looked to Kurt, her confusion evident on her face.

“Three songs?” she moaned. “On top of our other critiques? That’s impossible.”

Kurt pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. None of them had anticipated having to prepare additional songs and had been caught nearly completely unprepared.“It’s going to be a major challenge. And she’s not giving us guidelines on material, so that could be a big advantage or a trap if we pick wrong.”

Analisa was sitting on Kurt’s other side and looked over her notes. “This really does leave a lot of potential for screwing up. We know how picky she is about material that she doesn’t think is up to snuff.”

“Material is just one thing we have to worry about,” Jamie McLean mused. “She wants to see us, so we’ve got to really translate whatever we choose well. This is going to be tough.”

Katya looked over her notes and sighed. “And she’s going to want to see something different from us. If we just do what we’ve been doing all semester, that’s going to kill us.”

Kurt just nodded, considering the challenge that lay before them. He’d had some ideas about what songs he would choose from, but now with the demand for multiple pieces, he had to seriously reconsider his options.

He looked to his friends and classmates with a determined glint in his eyes. “I think we need to consider our songs as a whole and how they work together. What we pick has to show her that we can handle all kinds of material. Something up tempo, and then something more dramatic... We give her a show and not just a random collection of songs.”

Analisa nodded. “That would impress her,” she stated confidently. “The question is how we do it.”

“And we’ve only got a week to figure it out,” Rachel reminded.

Jamie couldn’t help laughing ruefully. “No pressure then.”

Kurt knew that they didn’t have a lot of time to figure this out. “I think we should get together and brainstorm,” he suggested. “We’ve been listening to one another sing for months now and we know what we can do and what she expects from us. Let’s get together this afternoon and run some ideas by one another.”

Rachel turned a thankful stare to her friend, grateful for the chance to get another perspective. “That’s a great idea. I’m in.”

Analisa nodded. “I’ll be done by five. We can meet at the diner around the corner.”

Jamie clapped his hands. “Okay then. After class at the diner for brainstorming and burgers. Sounds like a plan.”

Kurt grinned and grasped Rachel’s hand in his. “We’ve got this,” he said confidently. “We’re going to knock her brocade socks off.”

Rachel couldn’t help from getting swept along by their clear self-assurance. And she was admittedly grateful to have some people to run some ideas by. Usually she kept her own council about what she would want to perform, but that clearly hadn’t been working for her as of late. She had never felt so uncertain about her prospects and the input of those who’s abilities she respected would only help her.

And for the first time since setting foot in NYADA, she didn’t feel like she was surrounded by nothing but competition. These were people who could possibly help her, offering insights and suggestions that might help her performances. She could offer her own input that might help them.

And she wanted to help them. Kurt was her dearest friend, and she genuinely wanted to see him do well. But she was surprised that she also wanted to see if she could help Analisa and the others. She had so few friends and she did respect these singers. Maybe they could end up being more than cordial classmates and potential rivals for roles.

It had been increasingly clear to Rachel that she needed to make a change in how she approached things and how she treated her peers, and this seemed a perfect place to start.

* * *

Four hours would decide the fate of her students, Cassandra considered as she watched her morning students start their warm up exercises. Even before the testing officially began, it was apparent who had been practicing all along and who was struggling. Some things could be faked by following choreography, but not the foundations of flexibility or a strong core. The students who were able to pull in their abdomens to provide support and the ones who could stretch deeply at the barre stood out strongly from those who couldn’t. The ones who had good balance in their turns were evident, as were the ones whose form was lacking.

After having watched this lot for several months now, she doubted that the critique would change her opinions of her students very much. Those who were putting in the work had been readily apparent all along and she would reward those that she felt could survive the next levels. The rest would wash out. It wasn’t something that a single showing would change, one way or another.

As the piano played, she called out instructions to the students, ordering them to form lines and start showing what skills they’d managed to learn. Cassandra’s smile became shark-like when she considered that the lack of her customary insults and criticisms would likely be disconcerting to the class. It was one thing to get corrections, however harshly delivered, since it was all meant to help those who invested to improve. It was another to know that you were possibly making mistakes and know that while it wasn’t being called out, it was still being seen.

Her eyes narrowed when they fixed on Schwimmer and her patently pathetic attempts. The flaws in her form were obvious. She had limited flexibility and the bending of her spine certainly indicated that her strength was not what it should be after nearly a full year of work. When the order was called out to perform an arabesque, her leg was not raised nearly high or straight enough.

But Cassandra would have to acknowledge that she was trying and giving a lot more effort than she had all semester. Rather than complaining or trying to sneak in breaks for herself, she was throwing herself into the exercises and giving the kind of effort that her teacher had wanted to see all along. It was frustrating to see this kind of a late surge of interest, and a surge borne out only because she had failed to get the starring role she’d sought.

It wasn’t her way to reward bad behavior, and Berry showing newfound investment in her schooling strictly because she didn’t win a part just rubbed the teacher in her the wrong way. Cassandra wanted students who genuinely wanted to learn, and she was seeing nothing more than Berry’s determination to salvage what was left of her chances at NYADA.

When the class began to wind down, she ordered the students back to the barre to start their cool down exercises, and watched as Berry all but stumbled in exhaustion. Her endurance was clearly lacking and Cassandra knew that she had every legitimate reason to fail her outright.

Cassandra jotted down her notes, her observations confirming what she’d expected. There were a few in the group that had potential to become competent dancers and would survive moving on to the intermediate classes, but most were going to have to repeat. It was frustrating to her as a teacher not to have more with natural affinity for dance. Or at least a real desire to learn and not just pass enough to fulfill the course requirements.

She glanced up from her notes, seeing that the group had finished with their cool downs. “That’s it for today,” she said curtly, but lacking her usual sharpness. There was no need for that at this point. “Hit the showers. We’ll finish next session.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Berry inhale deeply and step back from the barre. The young girl looked a bit dejected over what she had to know was a poor showing, Cassandra considered. But her demeanor was a little bit different this time around. There wasn’t the sullenness that she usually saw when calling out Berry on her subpar dancing. The set of her jaw implied determination and willingness to muscle through, but not the sense of entitlement that Cassandra was accustomed to seeing from her. Rather than rushing to the showers, happy that the ordeal was over, she paused to try a step or two while she still had access to the room and the mirror. She watched herself, trying to see where she had gone wrong.

Cassandra snorted in distain, thinking to herself that the girl was wasting her time trying to practice at this late stage. But at least Berry was recognizing that she sucked. That was a far cry from her usual “I’ve been in dance classes since I was in diapers” boasting.

The dance teacher watched her for another moment, seeing her making the effort to push herself and knew that she had some thinking to do. She wasn’t going to change her opinion in regards to Berry’s grades, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t some things that needed to be considered.

* * *

The loft, thankfully, was quiet and gave Kurt and Rachel badly needed time to review their classroom notes and work on their presentations for their vocal critiques. With Santana out at work and Adam busy with his own final exams, the pair had some precious hours to get their work done without distraction.

“Have you finalized your songs yet?” she asked, reaching for the bowl of popcorn at her side. Something about all this work was stimulating her appetite in the worst way and she was grateful that she and Kurt had planned to keep some safe snacks within easy reach; otherwise both of them would be paying for it afterwards.

Kurt shook his head, not bothering to hide his exasperation. “Not really. I’ve got a bunch of ideas but I don’t want to give her what she’s already seen from me,” he explained. “She knows that I can sing emotionally and that I can be a showman. I’m not sure what I can do that will really surprise her.”

Rachel just smiled, popping a kernel into her mouth. “You’ve got to show her that you can do both at the same time. An emotional song doesn’t need to be introspective and gentle. Your voice has gotten a lot stronger, so pull out all the stops.”

Kurt considered the idea, his expressive face betraying his concern. “I’m not a huge belter,” he reminded. “I mean, I’m a lot better, but…”

“No,” she corrected insistently. “Kurt, you are one of the best singers that I’ve ever heard in my life. Your voice is beautiful and strong and there is nothing that you can’t sing. Don’t hold back because you think that your technique isn’t as strong as mine, because you know as well as I do that I focus too much on technique. You’ve got tremendous soul when you sing and you need to let that just fly.”

She smiled and took his hand in his, for once being glad to be in the position to be supportive and reassuring. “This whole thing is about us showing who we are as artists, and that is the one thing that I always felt about you. You know who you are as an artist better than anyone I know. Everything you sing is full of emotion and heart and you’ve got the skill now to really show that off.”

Kurt looked up at her, not bothering to hide his uncertainty. “So it’s time to take off the training wheels?” he joked half-heartedly.

“Go big or go home,” she insisted.

Kurt bit his lip and nodded. “I’ve got a few things that I was considering but wasn’t sure if I could pull it off.”

Rachel gave him an encouraging smile. “There is nothing that you can’t pull off. I’ve heard you sing things that have completely blown me away because I would never have expected them to come out of you. It’s time that Madam Tibideaux saw that too.”

“Do you know what you’re singing?” Kurt asked, stealing some of Rachel’s popcorn.

She felt her cheeks warm when she thought about what he might think about her choices and nodded. “I know that my weak spot has been really letting emotion come out while staying in character so that’s what I’m going to focus on. That I can keep my technique and still show my heart.”

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling at his friend. “Now it’ll be your turn to make us cry,” he proposed.

Rachel laughed, cuddling against Kurt and closed her eyes so she could savor his presence while she could. There would come a time when she would not be able to enjoy having him so close by and she wanted him to know that he meant so much to her. He was going to be very surprised when he heard her song choices.

Her phone chimed, indicating that she had just gotten a text message. But it was on the other side of their coffee table and she was reluctant to relinquish her hold on her friend. Reaching out with her bare foot, she managed to nudge it enough that she was able to reach it.

Her eyes widened when she saw the message and handed the phone to Kurt. “I think you’re going to want to see this. It’s from Blaine.”

Kurt snorted. “He’s the last person that I want to see anything from,” he reminded her. Blocking Blaine’s number had saved him a lot of aggravation.

“Oh, this you’re going to want to see.”

Sighing in exasperation, Kurt took the phone and looked at the message on the screen.

You can tell Kurt that I didn’t get in. That should make him happy.

* * *

“I’m not going to lie,” Adam admitted, sipping at his tea as they snuggled on Kurt’s sofa. They had a few hours to catch up with one another in between their final exams and grasped at it eagerly. “That is something of a relief. I’m glad that you’re not going to have to deal with him next year.”

Kurt nodded, not bothering to hide that he was relieved as well. “Well, I talked to Sam after we got the message. He didn’t get into any of his New York schools. But he did get into the music program at UCLA, so he’s going to be all the way on the other side of the country.”

Adam couldn’t help from smiling in contentment. The thought of Kurt’s frustrating ex thousands of miles away definitely made Adam a lot happier.

Kurt didn’t miss the pleased expression on his boyfriend’s face. “You look way too satisfied over this,” he admonished playfully. “That’s not very nice.”

No, it wasn’t, Adam acknowledged to himself. That didn’t mean that he felt badly about it. “I’m not going to feel guilty about him not being in a position to harass you,” he insisted. “Especially when I’m not around to run interference.”

Kurt just shook his head, tempted to scold his boyfriend. But it wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought the exact same things when he’d first heard the news.

“Am I a terrible person for being glad that he didn’t get in?” he asked. “I never thought that I’d take pleasure in someone else’s misfortune.”

Adam cocked his head, gazing down on Kurt thoughtfully. “Darling, you shouldn’t feel guilty about being glad that you’re not going to have him pestering you all the time. You deserve a bit of peace. And after how he treated you, he doesn’t deserve your regrets.”

Kurt couldn’t hold back the soft smile that broke through. His boyfriend’s support never failed to make him feel at ease. “Thank you for the reminder of why I love you,” he said softly, kissing the older man warmly.

Adam smiled back, his blue eyes crinkling. “Any time, love. How are finals going?”

Kurt sighed at the unwanted reminder of what he was in the midst of. “Most of my written exams are done, thankfully. I’ve only got one more,” he mused. “I did my first day of dance and I’m still alive, so there’s that. I’ve got the final day of dance on Thursday and then all day Friday is vocals.”

“I wish that I could be there,” Adam said regretfully. “You know I love watching you perform. It’s highly unfair of your Madam to do it behind closed doors.”

Kurt shrugged. “I’d love to have you there, but I don’t see any way of sneaking you in.”

“I’m just teasing, love. I know this exam is important to you. But they are making video copies, right?”

The younger man nodded. “So I can have it for my portfolio. And with these songs, I’m either going to want to keep them forever or erase every copy I can get my hands on.”

At Adam’s quizzical look, Kurt went on to explain. “I’m doing a few songs that aren’t like anything I’ve ever done before. Things from more modern musicals with rock elements. It’s not exactly what I’m known for.”

Adam pursed his lips as he considered Kurt’s selections. “But you’ve sung rock numbers with us numerous times. It’s not exactly out of your wheelhouse.”

“It’s one thing to do it for fun, but I’ve never doing anything like that for a class assignment. I’ve never been judged on it,” Kurt explained. “I need to show Madam Tibideaux that I’ve grown in my technique and can use the kind of vocal power that someone like Rachel does so easily. And do it while still keeping the emotional soul of the song.”

“Now you make me want to sneak in even more,” Adam teased. “Darling… you are going to be amazing. Because you always are. I have no doubt that you will impress her beyond words.”

Kurt couldn’t help from feeling flattered by his lover’s effuse praise. “Your bias is showing again,” he teased playfully.

Adam laughed brightly, not bothering to hide his affection. “Always and forever,” he promised. He pulled Kurt’s hand up to press a warm kiss to his fingers, earning a deep flush on the younger man’s face.

“But in all seriousness… how are you going to sneak me in so I can see you sing? Because I don’t believe I’d fit into any of Rachel’s dresses,” Adam joked.

“Pity… you’ve got better legs.”

* * *

“All right… first group on the line!” Cassandra called out.

Rachel hurried to take her place, forcing herself not to mentally bemoan that as one of the shortest people in the class, she would be standing in the front where she would be readily seen. There would be no opportunity to hide in the background and hope that her mistakes would be missed. She found her mark and quickly fell into the starting pose for the choreography they were to perform.

It was almost over, she thought thankfully. One last test and her critique would be over. It was all that she could hope that she would have suitably impressed her teacher enough to save herself from a failing grade.

The choreography was a lot more complex than she was usually called up to do, and the rhythm was fast which meant that a single error would put her behind the beat and be nearly impossible to catch up. There was so much to remember, so many steps and turns and it was hard to keep track of what she needed to do at what point. Pirouettes that suddenly stopped and then resumed in the opposite direction. Leaps that would send her to the floor and then a roll to bring her up to her knees. Lunges into tilts that she strained to hold position on.

Hitch kicks lead into pique turns, then a pas de chat. It was like Ms. July was squeezing every possible dance move into a single piece, yet somehow it came out as coherent choreography. Rachel tried to keep her turnout in mind, knowing that how she did the moves was as important as what she did.

All the while, Ms. July watched the group’s every move critically and made her notes.

The music brought them back to their starting places, Rachel finishing in a kneeling position, arching her back. She felt her chest heaving, nearly gasping for breath from the strain of keeping up with the other dancers. She felt her teacher’s sharp eyes moving over them, looking for flaws.

At any other time, there would be harsh criticisms of their forms, or at least one of them being called out for being behind the beat. Instead they had just a few seconds to regain their breath as their teacher checked their forms, and then dismissed them so the next group could perform.

It was the not knowing that was the worst, Rachel thought as she retreated to the other side of the room where she could recover and watch the others. So many of them were clearly struggling and she wasn’t sure if it felt better knowing that she wasn’t alone, or worse in that she might not have been able to improve enough to stand apart in a positive light. Not knowing she had performed bothered her more than anything else.

Once the last group was finished, Ms. July ordered them to the barre. “Do your cool downs and then you can leave,” she ordered curtly, gathering up the notes she’d been making. “You’ll have your grades next week. If you have any questions about how you did, wait until your grades are posted.”

Rachel fought back the impulse to approach her and get an evaluation on the spot, knowing that it would only offend her teacher and probably get her flunked just on principle. She had done everything she could at this point and now it would just be a matter of waiting. She just hoped that it had been enough.

* * *

Kurt arrived to the Round Room an hour before the vocal critiques were scheduled to begin, needing to have a chance to see the space again and center himself. The musicians were busy setting up, preparing to provide accompaniment for the students that would be performing, and the tech team was setting up the cameras for recording. The room still had an air of grandeur despite the fact that it would be used only for student critiques and there would be no admiring audience. But the acoustics would be fantastic.

He had only been in this room once before, the night of the Winter Showcase. That night he’d been caught totally unprepared when Madam Tibideaux publicly challenged him to prove that he deserved the place at NYADA that he aspired to. He must have given her what she’s been looking for and what he hadn’t shown before since he was now standing in that same room, preparing to be judged again.

This time, he wasn’t at all anxious. He had proven that he had what it took to be there and found himself being challenged and nurtured in a way that he’d never experienced before. This wasn’t an exercise designed to cut him down the way he’d been so many times before. There would be criticism to be sure, but it was to see how much he’d progressed and what he needed to focus on in the future.

Despite the fact that he’d be singing material unlike he’d ever dared take on before, he felt none of the pre-performance jitters that he’d felt in the past. Instead he was rather excited about the prospect. Kurt thought that he’d picked songs that would show how much his voice had improved over the past few months and that he had evolved as a performer. That he had undiscovered depths that he was just beginning to display.

His choice of outfits for the critique surprised Rachel because it looked on the surface as if he hadn’t put any thought into it at all. But he’d in truth selected the cream colored Henley and dark wash jeans with considerable care. It would fit each of the songs he’d chosen and let the evolution of his character shine through. Around his neck, he wore one of Adam’s necklaces; placed there by his boyfriend for luck.

While things were still quiet, he took a moment to walk across the stage and get a feel for it. Facing the chairs arranged about the room, Kurt considered that the last time he’d sung in this room, the chairs were filled with NYADA alumni and theater luminaries. Today it would just be his teacher and his classmates. Piece of cake, he thought.

As the other students slowly began to file in, taking their seats and making their own mental preparations, Kurt felt that he could relax. He was looking forward to showing what he was able to do and share this with his friends and peers.

Rachel took a seat next to Kurt and looked lovely in a pale blue dress that lent her a softer, more ethereal presence than she’d been adopting the past few months. She looked to him, the smile on her face tender and seeming to express a sense of peace that Kurt could never remember seeing from her before. Now that it seemed that Rachel had finally stop constantly trying to defend her self-imagined sense of superiority all the time, she seemed far more at ease with herself than Kurt could remember her being in a very long time.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, not wanting to draw attention to them.

She just smiled and nodded. “I really am,” she insisted gently. “I’m kind of looking forward to this.”

“Me too,” he admitted without a trace of uncertainty. He took her hand in his, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

He felt her slide closer to him, enough so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. “I know that a lot of things haven’t turned out quite the way we planned,” she admitted. “But there is absolutely no one that I’d rather be doing this with than you.”

Kurt felt his chest tighten at her softly spoken admission, seeing again why he loved his friend so much. And despite all their drama of the past year, he thought that they’d finally reached a good place.

When Madam Tibideaux arrived, the entire class had assembled and taken their seats and the musicians were finishing their tune ups. She looked resplendent in her red and gold brocade robes as she took her place before them, the patterns bringing to Kurt’s mind the burning plumage of a phoenix. He wondered if that was a good omen for them.

“Good morning all,” she greeted cordially, the expression on her normally stern face surprisingly relaxed given the occasion. “And welcome to your spring critique. When you all first arrived at NYADA, you came with certain gifts and certain weaknesses. Over the past months, we’ve explored your abilities and challenged you. What I hope to see today is the summation of your development.

“Before you sing, I would like to hear what your time at NYADA has meant for you and how it influenced your material and your artistic choices. As I explained previously, you will be judged on all aspects of your performance and if it shows your overall development. So good luck to you all, and I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve chosen to show me.”

She took her seat before the stage and opened her notebook so she could make her notes. Without further ado, the first of them was called to the stage.

Kurt tried to give his classmates the attention that they deserved, wanting to see what they had come up with. Madam Tibideaux was calling them in alphabetical order, so Rachel would be going up shortly. He reached over to give her hand another reassuring squeeze, wanting her to know that he was there for her. Her small hand squeezed, letting him know that his unspoken message had been received and reciprocated.

Once the first student had finished to his classmates’ enthusiastic applause, Madam Tibideaux nodded her approval and called for the next student to take the stage.

“Ms. Berry… if you’re ready.”

Rachel’s eyes flickered to Kurt, seeing his encouraging smile and took a deep steadying breath. Giving his hand another squeeze, she rose to her feet and stepped confidently to the stage where she faced her teacher.

“Thank you, Madam,” she said sincerely. She looked to her teacher, who was looking at her expectantly. There were so many things that she wanted to say, to try to explain what had been cycling in her head the past few weeks. So much had changed for her and it was hard to put it to words.

“To be honest, my time here at NYADA hasn’t turned out the way I’d expected,” she admitted. “I took a lot of things for granted and made mistakes. And it’s not exactly a secret that I’ve had my disappointments. But I want to think that I’m going to be a better performer because of that. That maybe I can open up more, and find something more than just my voice to show.

“The songs I’ve chosen are about my journey here. I hope that they reflect both the person that I was and who I hope to be.”

She turned to nod at the musicians, cuing them to start and a bright flute began the overture. Rachel was sure that the piece was readily recognizable to her classmates, and they might be surprised by her choice. If there was a character from this musical that she was expected to gravitate towards, they probably expected it to be Laurey Williams.

“It ain't so much a question of not knowin' what to do,” Rachel began, her voice taking on a slight twang. “I've know'd what's right and wrong since I've been ten! I've heard a lot of stories, and I reckon they are true. About how girls are put upon by men.”

“I know I mustn't fall into the pit. But when I'm with a feller.....I furgit!”

It had been hard for her to admit her mistakes, because she should have known better. But it had been so easy for her to be lead astray. Whether because someone was flattering her, or her own ego getting in the way. Ado Annie seemed to speak to that part of her and made picking this song uncomfortably easy.

“I'm just a girl who can’t say no,” she sang as the tempo picked up. She looked at her audience with a perplexed expression, hoping that she could find the answers here. “I'm in a terrible fix! I always say ‘come on, let's go’! Just when I oughta say nix!”

How true that was for her, she realized. That had been a hard admission to realize. How often she did what she knew was detrimental to herself and her goals, all because she hadn’t been able to control her impulses.

She stepped across the stage, her skirt swirling about her legs as she moved. “When a person tries to kiss a girl, I know she oughta give his face a smack.” She raised her hand and pretended to hit her unseen suitor, but then seemed to wilt as her determination waned. “But as soon as someone kisses me, I somehow, sorta, wanta kiss him back!”

She could see a few smiles coming from her classmates, and there was a chuckle here and there. She gave a dramatic huff and shook her head, taking of a self-deprecating demeanor that felt surprisingly honest.

“I'm just a fool when lights are low,” Rachel trilled, admitting to her flaws and failings. It felt surprisingly freeing to having those flaws acknowledged by those around her, but not judged. “I can’t be prissy and quaint. I ain't the type that can faint. How can I be what I ain't? I can’t say no!”

She stamped her foot, taking ownership of her flaws. She knew that she could be flighty and distracted, and then so painfully single-minded that she missed the important details.

“Whatcha gonna to do when a feller gets flirty, and starts to talk purty?” she asked her audience, pretending that they were Laurey in the scene with her. “Whatcha gonna do? Sposin’ that he says that your lips are like cherries, or roses, or berries? Whatcha goin' to do?

“Sposin' that he says that you're sweeter 'n cream, and he's gotta have cream or die? Whatcha goin' to do when he talks that way? Spit in his eye?”

She thought back to those two jerks that had latched onto her after the Winter Showcase and then abandoned her after Midnight Madness. She had let them use her, attached herself to her coattails in an attempt to elevate themselves and shut out her best friend in the process. She had fallen so easily to their empty flattery and it put her in a terrible hole that she was still digging herself out of.

“I'm just a girl who can’t say no. Kissin's my favorite food,” she acknowledged, drawing herself up with determination. Now that she knew her flaws, she could guard against the damage they could do. “With or without the mistletoe, I’m in a holiday mood. Other girls are coy and hard to catch, but other girls ain’t havin’ any fun. Every time I lose a wrestling match, I have a funny feeling that I won.”

That was the most surprising thing for her and the oddest discovery. She’d been crushed by the disappointments of the past months, but found it strangely freeing. She found herself letting go of a lot of what she expected… no, demanded for herself and was now able to embrace what life threw at her.

“Though I can feel the undertone, I never make a complaint,” she acknowledged ruefully, thinking about Annie’s mistakes. How she kept chasing after the wrong man while missing that the perfect man had been right under her nose the entire time. She was more like Annie than she would ever have believed. “Till it’s too late for restraint. Then when I want to, I can’t! I can’t say no!”

She finished with a stamp of her foot and a shake of her hair. She wasn’t going to apologize for being a flawed human being who just wanted too much. Not when she wanted to be a kinder, more thoughtful person in the end.

Her eyes flickered to Kurt, who was grinning widely at her performance and gave her a subtle thumbs up. She paused for a second to regroup as the music shifted, the bright tones shifted to something much softer and more somber. Her goal with her second song was to be a recognition of her mistakes and what they’d cost her.

“Isn’t it rich?” Rachel voice was soft, drifting on the gentle notes of the flute and piano accompanying her. She’s remembered that Kurt loved her voice best during her more gentle performances, and it wasn’t as if Madam Tibideaux didn’t already know that she had tremendous vocal power at her disposal. She wanted to give a more heartfelt performance and show another side of herself.

“Are we a pair? Me here, at last, on the ground. You in mid-air. Send in the clowns.”

Kurt would never know how much Rachel looked up to him. To his strength and dignity and how he overcame hardship. She so often was ready to crumble at the least setback and sometimes felt shamed when comparing herself to Kurt’s example.

“Isn’t it bliss?” Rachel asked, her eyes softening when she thought about just how blessed she had been and didn’t appreciate. “Don’t you approve? One who keeps tearing around. One who can’t move. Where are the clowns? Send in the clowns.”

This song was dangerous for her, because it had been covered so many times, and by some of her favorite idols. Copying them even a little bit would ruin what she was trying to accomplish. She remembered what she had been told. She couldn’t be Judy or Barbra or any of the others. She had to be Rachel.

She felt her vision waver as she blinked back tears that had welled up unbidden. She felt so vulnerable there, bearing her soul in a way that she’d always been afraid to.

“Just when I’d stopped opening doors. Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours,” she sang, keeping her tone bright and pure and avoiding the vocal tricks she’d often employed to show emotion. “Making my entrance again with my usual flair. Sure of my lines. No one is there.”

The character from A Light Night Music was an actress who could hide behind artifice, but here she was laying her heart out for the man that she loved. Rachel felt herself doing the same, wanting her audience to see all of her frailties and hopes and fears.

“Don’t you love farce?” she asked plaintively. “My fault, I fear. I thought that you’d want what I want. Sorry, my dear.

“But where are the clowns? There ought to be clowns. Quick! Send in the clowns.”

One of the criticisms that had been hard for her to hear was her habit of hiding herself as a performer by mimicking her idols. Putting herself out there, with a song so well known and so often covered and making it her own was a self-imposed challenge that she needed to do.

She couldn’t help from glancing at Madam Tibideaux, who was watching her closely. Her expression was coolly intent as she watched her student, betraying nothing of her thoughts. The only time the dean looked away was to make her notes.

Rachel sighed, as the song began to glide to its conclusion, where her character faced heartbreak and disappointment. She’d had her heart broken several times in the past months. With Finn, who she now saw as being so very wise in ending things. With Funny Girl, where she now recognized just how unprepared and arrogant she had been. And with NYADA, where her view of herself had been challenged and broken.

“What a surprise. Who could foresee?” Rachel sang, keeping her voice restrained to show the heartbreak that her character was feeling. “I’d come to feel about you what you felt about me. Why only now, when I see that you’ve drifted away? What a surprise. What a cliché.”

Rachel wrapped her arms about herself, as if trying to comfort herself because the one that she wanted to comfort her wouldn’t. Her lower lip trembled and she fought to keep her voice steady.

“Isn’t it right? Isn’t it queer?” she asked. “Losing my timing this late in my career. And where are the clowns? Quick, send in the clowns.

“Don’t bother… they’re here,” she breathed, feeling a tear escaping her eye.

She could hear the applause of her classmates who seemed genuinely moved by what she had shown them. Her gaze flew to the one whose opinion meant the most to her, even beyond Madam Tibideaux’s. Kurt’s eyes were shimmering and there was a familiar tightness to his mouth that betrayed his efforts to keep his own emotions in check.

Rachel offered him a soft smile as the music for her final song began to fill the room. His lips twitched when he recognized the piece and he saw Rachel’s demeanor shift again, from regretful to wistful.

“There’s a saying old, says that love is blind.” Rachel’s voice soared softly, elegant in its restraint and gentle in its power. “Still we’re often told, seek and ye shall find. So I’m going to seek a certain lad I’ve had in mind.”

She smiled warmly at Kurt, marveling that despite everything that they’d both been through that he was still there for her.

“Looking everywhere, haven’t found him yet,” Rachel crooned, letting her love for her friend shine through. “He’s the big affair I cannot forget. Only man I ever think of with regret.”

She had regrets when it came to Kurt. He had stood by her side and supported her well past the point that any rational person would have reached their limits. Rachel knew that she hadn’t treated him well, often taking his care for granted and not showing him the kind of love that he had shown her.

“I’d like to add his initial to my monogram,” Rachel sang dreamily. “Tell me where s the shepherd for this lost lamb?”

She looked to her friend, the expression on her face one of love and longing. “There’s a somebody that I’m longing to see. I hope that he turns out to be someone who’ll watch over me.”

Rachel closed her eyes and held out her arms, as if dreaming of her future love. But the true focus of her love was sitting right there and she very much wanted him to know just how much he meant to her. Rachel knew without a doubt that if she were a man or if Kurt were straight, that they probably would be engaged by now since there was no one who understood her better. Who she was and what she really needed, not just what she wanted.

“I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood. I know I could, always be good,” she promised, thinking of all the times she’d fallen short. The numerous times when she’d abused their friendship and not shown her appreciation for all that he did. That Kurt continued to forgive her spoke more about him than it did about her. “To the one who’ll watch over me.

“Although he may not be the man some girls think as handsome,” Rachel sang longingly, thinking how absurd that was. Kurt was beautiful and strong and so worthy of love and admiration. “To my heart he carries the key.

“Won’t you tell me, please put on some speed? Follow my lead. Oh, how I need someone to watch over me.”

And that was what it all boiled down to. There was no one who had supported her the way Kurt did. Who had stood by her and wanted her to be happy. He was the one person who wasn’t afraid to tell her when she was wrong and still love her despite everything. Their lives would move on and they would have other people moving in and out, but she doubted that there was any friend or lover that would love and look out for her the way Kurt did.

The music began to soften as the song drew to a gentle close and Rachel hoped that her friend realized that she was singing to him. “Won’t you tell me, please put on some speed? Follow my lead. Oh, how I need someone to watch over me.

“Someone to watch over me!”

Her classmates applauded her and cheered enthusiastically and a few of them had even gotten to their feet. Kurt’s eyes were shining as he clapped, his love for her apparent and for the first time Rachel realized that she had found her soulmate. The one who would stand at her side through all things.

No matter what happened after today, for Rachel that meant everything.

Madam Tibideaux made no indication whether or not she found Rachel’s performance acceptable and as she had done or the previous performers, merely waited for the class to settle before calling the next student to take the stage.

Rachel stepped off the stage and fell into Kurt’s arms, feeling his breath against her cheek as he held her close. Those surprisingly strong arms about her grounded her, provided her center of her universe. She squeezed him tight, wanting to assure her friend that what she’d just expressed was true and not just for her performance.

They settled in their seats, forcing themselves to regain control of their emotions and turn their attention to their classmates. They would talk more about what Rachel had done but for now, they had their peers who deserved their focus.

Kurt watched intently, giving his classmates the respect that they deserved and genuinely enjoying their efforts. He felt honored to be among this insanely talented group and as his turn approached. Once again, he marveled at his lack of nervousness, thinking that with such a high stakes critique on the line that he should be at least a little apprehensive.

“Mr. Hummel?” Madam Tibideaux called out. “If you please?”

By now the class had relaxed and there were encouraging cheers from his classmates as he stepped to the center of the stage. He took a steadying breath and looked about the room, seeing the expectant and encouraging faces and then the cool, dispassionate expression on Madam Tibideaux.

“Thank you, Madam,” he said calmly. “The past few months have been interesting, to say the very least. I came into NYADA wanting very much to be a performer, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to. I always thought that no one would take me seriously. My time at NYADA have started to show me that a lot of the limits that I thought I had no choice about accepting were self-imposed more than anything else.”

He pursed his mouth, thinking of what he’d learned about himself since coming to New York. “The most important thing I’ve learned is that this is what I want to do with my life. What I’m meant to do. And I want to thank everyone here for helping me see that.”

He saw Rachel’s eyes tear and her loving smile and knew that he could do this. He took a breath and nodded to the musicians to start. The piano started the bright, gentle tune and Kurt closed eyes.

“My days are brighter than morning air. Evergreen pine and autumn blue. But all my days are twice as fair, if I could share my days with you.”

Kurt’s voice rode the music that seemed to drift about him, lifting sweetly. He’d always loved the innocent sweetness of this song, as perfect a portrayal of first love as he could imagine. Where everything was possible and there was no darkness in the world.

He opened his eyes and held out his arms, as if to embrace everyone watching him. “My nights are warmer than fire coals. Incense and stars and smoke bamboo. But nights were warm beyond compare, if I could share my nights with you.”

His voice began to soar, secure and confident in his ability to hold the notes as they rose on the air. He felt his body moving, as if trying to follow the notes before they drifted out of reach.

“To dance in my dreams,” he sang, the smile on his face one of pure wonderment. Kurt had so many things in his life that gave him happiness, but there was nothing outside of his friends and loved ones that gave him nearly as much joy as he felt at that instant. “To shine when I need the sun. With you… to hold me when dreams are done!”

His voice leapt to hit that high note, jumping nearly a full octave without the slightest pause. His smile was dazzling as he spun about like a child.

“And oh....” His voice continued to rise, sliding easily into his upper range and ringing out pure and sweet. “My dearest love… If you will take my love, then all my dreams are truly begun.”

His voice slipped effortlessly back to his middle range, pouring the love of what he was doing into his voice. “And time weaves ribbons of memory. To sweeten life when youth is through. But I would need no memories there.”

He looked at his classmates and his teacher, grateful that he had the chance to share this with them. And hovering in the back of the room, he caught a glimpse of tousled blond curls and a wide smile directed at him.

He was going to kill Adam for sneaking in, but only after kissing the life out of him.

“If I could share my life with you.”

He could hear the applause of his classmates, knowing that he had shown them the very best example of what they already knew he could do. Now he was ready to switch things up. The music shifted, soft piano and flute giving way to guitar and drums.

“I am what you want me to be,” Kurt stated, infusing his voice with a subtle measure of iron grit. “And I’m your worst fear you’ll find in me.

“Come closer,” he beckoned wickedly, crooking his finger at his audience. He was daring them. “Come closer.

“I am more than memory, I am what might be, I am mystery. You know me. So show me.”

Kurt began to slink across the stage, a dangerous presence that challenged his classmates to follow him. “When I appear it's not so clear if I'm a simple spirit or I'm flesh and blood.

“But I'm alive, I'm alive, I am so alive. And I feed on the fear that's behind your eyes. And I need you to need me it's no surprise. I'm alive! So alive! I'm alive.”

Kurt expertly balanced power and subtly as he built up his character that was a bit different than Gabe was portrayed in the show. Gabe could be destructive and even malevolent, but Kurt was elemental. A force like wind or lightning that could be beautiful or destructive. The beautiful notes emerging from his throat not quite concealing the menace in his words.

“I am flame and I am fire, I am destruction, decay, and desire,” Kurt growled as he paced the stage like a caged animal. “I'll hurt you. I'll heal you.

“I'm your wish, your dream come true,” he proclaimed like a young god, holding out his arms to beckon his audience in. “And I am your darkest nightmare too. I've shown you. I own you.”

He felt his body surging, feeling free as his voice filled the room, sure and powerful. “And though you made me you can't change me,” he warned, letting the darkness color his words. “I'm a perfect stranger who knows you too well.”

The shift from innocent love to something dark and obsessive was something that he’d seen and experienced before. He’d seen Blaine turn on him, going out of his way to deliberately hurt the one he professed to love. He’d seen Rachel roll mindlessly over those that were close to her because they stood in the way of what she wanted. Love could so easily curdle if it became all about what you needed and you lost sight of what your partner needed as well.

“I'm alive, I'm alive, I am so alive,” Kurt sang, his voice soaring with power. “And I'll tell you the truth if you let me try. You're alive, I'm alive, and I'll show you why. I'm alive. So alive! I'm alive!”

His voice began to rise with the song, building and soaring as the song built. He found the power to lead the melody, showing no hint of strain or hesitation.

“I'm right behind you,” he warned dangerously, glaring with a nearly unholy blaze in his eyes. “You say, ‘Forget,’ but I'll remind you. You can try to hide, you know that I will find you. 'Cause if you won't grieve me, you won't leave me behind!”

Damn, he thought absently as his voice absolutely filled the room, the note long and steady. That sounded good.

“Oh, oh, whoa, whoa... No, no, no! I'm alive, I'm alive, I am so alive!” Kurt leapt, as if the spirit within him was too powerful to be contained by weak flesh. “If you climb on my back, then we both can fly. If you try to deny me I'll never die.

“I'm alive! So alive! I'm alive!Yeah, yeah…I'm alive! I'm alive! I'm alive!”

Kurt came to a stop right before Madam Tibideaux, demanding her attention and regard. He could feel the sweat on his face, and the cheers of his classmates. He hoped that he’d surprised them with the nearly animalistic display that he’d never had the confidence to try before.

The music shifted again and the melody for his final song began. This was one that he thought would surprise everyone most. He’d shown them heart and he’d shown them power. Now he would blend both together in a way that would show his voice at its best potential. He felt amazing, nearly buzzing with energy but he needed to pull it back for the last song. He’d worked hard on this arrangement and thought it would suit the song well.

The only instrument accompanying him was a gently played guitar, and Kurt closed his eyes to center himself. Balancing the power that he wanted to show with a delicate touch. The lack of any musical accompaniment besides the gentle guitar would put his voice front and center, with nowhere to hide. There were no vocal tricks that would mask mistakes or flaws. He would be vocally naked.

“One song glory, one song before I go,” he started softly; the words a prayer to an uncaring deity who’d thus far ignored previous pleas. “Glory, one song to leave behind.

“Find one song, one last refrain. Glory, from the pretty boy front man… who wasted opportunity.”

He normally identified with Mark from RENT, but in exploring this song Kurt realized that he had just as much in common with Roger. A man with tremendous talent who’s ambitions never seemed to be realized. To hope for one chance to leave his mark on the world before his inevitable death.

“One song, he had the world at his feet,” Kurt sang, infusing the heartbreak over Roger’s situation. “Glory, in the eyes of a young girl. A young girl.”

Kurt rarely spoke to anyone about his darkest fears. That no matter what he did, that he would fail to accomplish anything with his life. That he would never find success; that he when he passed no one would even know that he’d existed. His feared that his talent would not be enough, because he was too unique. Too strange. Too gay.

“Find glory. Beyond the cheap colored lights.” His voice became stronger, telling the story of a man who feared that his time was rapidly running out. “One song, before the sun sets. Glory, on another empty life.

“Time flies! Time dies!” Kurt gave this song everything he had within him. There was power, but also heartbreak. The song didn’t make use of his range, but he didn’t need high notes to show what his voice was capable of. Or what he had within him.

“Glory, one blaze of glory! One blaze of glory! Glory!”

Kurt looked to his audience, feeding of their reactions. Rachel’s mouth was slightly open in shock, her dark eyes shimmering. Analisa was watching intently, leaning forward least she miss a single note. Jamie was nodding proudly, happy to see someone that he respected in his element, while Katya was wiping at her eyes.

Adam merely smiled, not bothering to wipe away the tears that streamed down his face.

Kurt reined back his voice from its soaring heights, showing the power in quiet softness. “Find glory in a song that rings true. Truth like a blazing fire, an eternal flame. Find, one song, a song about love. Glory, from the soul of a young man.”

Kurt had felt love before and been hurt by it. Losing Blaine had crushed him and it had taken a long time for him to find his strength again but he moved past that hurt. If he lost Adam, he’d be hurt beyond measure but he knew that he could survive. But if he could not perform… if he could no longer sing or act, his life would no longer have meaning. Then he might as well fade away, because there would be no further reason for living.

Death might be inevitable, but everyone wanted to leave something behind to mark their time on Earth. For Kurt that was a song or a performance that people would look back upon to remember him by.

“A young man, find the one song. Before the virus takes hold,” Kurt breathed, feeling Roger’s fear viscerally. There wasn’t a gay man born since the Eighties that didn’t have that mortal fear of how an act of love and passion that could lead to death. “Glory, like a sunset. One song to redeem this empty life.”

Kurt was determined that his life would not be a meaningless one. He might not have Rachel’s single-minded focus, but he was just as ambitious. He would not fade into the darkness without his light blazing first.

“Time flies!” His voice was a defiant cry against death and emptiness. “And then no need to endure anymore! Time dies!”

He felt his body slump, having given everything he had within him. The last time he was applauded in this room, he’d been taken completely by surprise, not having expected to be rewarded when he’d never been so before. This time, he knew that it was deserved.

He wasn’t expecting a response from his teacher, so he wasn’t disappointed to see her making her notes and giving no sign if she was pleased. It was the applause of his peers that satisfied him. Rachel was on her feet, clapping so loudly that her hands would be hurting her in the morning. Analisa and the others were cheering him on, happily celebrating his accomplishment.

And the man that he loved, who stood unobtrusively in the back of the room… the light shining in Adam’s eyes told him everything he needed to know.

There was a strange buzzing in his had as Kurt took his seat, riding on the high of his performance. In the background, he could feel Rachel’s arms wrap around him and the pats on his shoulders from his classmates. He inhaled deeply, trying to regain his composure and focus on the next student called to stage.

When he glanced to the back of the room, Adam was gone, having quietly left so he wouldn’t distract from the other performances. Kurt couldn’t help from smiling, knowing that he would see Adam when they were done. In the meantime, he owed his classmates his attention.

It was late afternoon by the time the last student was finished and everyone was fairly well exhausted. Madam Tibideaux stood from her seat and gathered her notes under her arm as she looked over her students.

“I want to thank you all,” she proclaimed with her customary stateliness. “Not just for your work today, but for all your effort the past months. You’ll be getting your final grades and your written critiques next Friday. If you have any questions, please contact my secretary to schedule a meeting.”

For the first time all day, she allowed a smile to grace her features. “It has been a pleasure and a privilege to work with you all. I hope that you have a wonderful summer and to see you next semester.

“So without further ado… class dismissed.”

The students gave a collective sigh of relief that it was finally over. Once their august teacher had left the room, they gathered to hug one another, congratulating themselves for their hard work and having managed to survive.

Kurt kept his arm about Rachel as they took a few minutes to chat with their classmates, making sure to have one another’s contact information and making tentative plans to get together before they dispersed for summer jobs and trips home. There were hugs and a few tears before they started to drift their separate ways.

He looked down at his best friend, so proud of what she’d just done. “You were amazing,” he praised wholeheartedly, hugging her tight. “I’ve never heard you sing like that.”

Rachel blushed furiously at his praise. “What about you?” she demanded. “Oh my god… you were tremendous! I could totally see you playing Gabe. I had shivers running down my spine the entire time. And your take on the RENT song…”

She gave him a playful nudge. “You made me cry! Again!”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing. “You were so fantastic” he praised, looking down at her face. She looked absolutely radiant. “I saw you up there. You didn’t just use your power and your voice was incredible.”

“I remembered what you told me,” she admitted. “And what they told me after my callback. I spent so much time trying to be the next Barbra that I forgot about trying to be the best Rachel.”

“Well, the best Rachel is pretty spectacular,” Kurt assured her. He couldn’t help from hugging her again. “I am so proud of you.”

She sniffled, fighting back happy tears. “I don’t think I can say how amazing you were. You were beautiful and powerful and I just loved every second of it. I knew that you had that in you.”

Kurt was reluctant to release her so they could gather their things and leave the room. He couldn’t resist one last glance about the space, feeling a lot of confidence that this wasn’t his last time performing there.

He and Rachel still had their arms about one another as they walked out of the Round Room, laughing and unable to stop praising one another. They were still riding on the buzz of their performances when a cool accented voice called out to them.

“Hey superstars,” Adam greeted cheerfully. “That was a hell of a show.”

Kurt released his grip on Rachel and flung himself into his boyfriend’s arms. The older man looked down at him lovingly, his hands trailing down Kurt’s back to hold him close.

“I can’t believe you snuck in,” Kurt reprimanded gently. “You could have gotten into trouble.”

“No, I wouldn’t have,” Adam insisted, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “Because I asked your Madam if she would very much mind of I peeked in to watch. I told her how sad I would be to miss you singing since I was graduating and wouldn’t have much chance to see you next year.”

He gave Kurt a coy smile. “I don’t know why you say she’s so fearsome, because she’s really a rather soft touch. Oh, she huffed a little bit but told me that if I wasn’t intrusive, I could watch. There was no way that I was going to miss this.”

“You really did that… just to see us,” Kurt marveled. To have someone go out of their way just to see him perform, however biased Adam’s opinion might be of Kurt’s talents, was a heady and novel experience.

“I’m glad I did,” Adam insisted. “Because I would have regretted missing that for the rest of my life.”

He looked down at his lover, the expression on his face full of wonderment. “I’ve thought that I’ve seen you at your best before, but you always manage to surprise me. That was… that was absolutely stunning.”

Kurt couldn’t help from kissing Adam, because it would have been perilously easy to lose his composure right then and there.

The Englishman turned to Rachel who was watching them in amusement. “You were wonderful too, Rachel,” he insisted. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you perform with that kind of emotion. It was absolutely glorious.”

She couldn’t help from smiling, knowing that Kurt’s boyfriend wasn’t inclined towards empty flattery. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I took a cue from my partner in crime here.”

Adam nodded approvingly, glad to see that Rachel opening herself up a bit. “Well, I think this deserves a bit of celebrating,” he proclaimed. He gathered Kurt under one arm and held out his other for Rachel to nestle in. “I think that dinner and a few drinks is in order. Because you two, my darlings, were spectacular.”

Kurt laughed and let Adam guide them out of the building. With their finals and critiques nearly finished, the school year was all but over. In a few days, they’d be done and looking forward to the summer. It felt like the world was wide open to them now and Kurt was ready to rush forward to meet it.

Rachel's critique solos: I'm Just a Girl Who Can't Say No - Oklahoma Send In The Clowns - A Little Night Music Someone To Watch Over Me - Oh, Kay!

Kurt's critique solos: With You - Pippin I'm Alive - Next to Normal One Song Glory - RENT

#kadam fic #kurt hummel #adam crawford #rachel berry #carmen tibideaux #nyada students #adam's apples #nyada #just breathe #can't believe that it's almost done

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