Love and Fame: A Klaine Story

Chapter Thirty

I wake up the next morning more tired than when I went to sleep. Every time I would fall asleep, my dreams would turn into nightmares and I would wake up with a whimper that was barely withheld from being a scream.

So it's safe to say, the next morning I was quite a bit bitchy to everybody. I barely get through my skin care regime, grabbing coffee on the way to school, and practically glaring at all the freshman who keep getting in the fucking way.
Rachel finally has enough of my attitude at lunch.

"Listen, Kurt. I know you are stressed about our auditions Friday but there is only room for one of us to be a diva at a time and right now we all know I hold the title-"

"Oh shut up, Rachel," I snap, glaring at her over my second cup of coffee. Rachel doesn't seem fazed by my bitchy response.

"Seriously, Kurt. You need to chill out, you are going to kill your audition," Rachel continues. I glare at her and grab my satchel, seething in barely controlled anger that she doesn't know me at all it seems. Of course I was worried about my audition, but what's really getting to me is the fact that Blaine and I are fighting.

"Rachel, I love you, but fuck off right now," I retort, storming out of the cafeteria. I rush out and pay no attention to where I'm going, finally arriving at the choir room. I quickly shut the door, leaving me all alone in the room. I sigh as I feel the anger leave me and regret fills the empty hole.

I should go back and apologize to her. It's not her fault Blaine and I got in an argument, I reason to myself. But I really don't want to talk to anybody about it, which I know she will ask me to do if I tell her.

So instead, I pull out my phone, my heart twisting painfully as I see no message from Blaine.

I'm sorry. I send to my best friend, looking at the phone and hoping that Blaine will text me, or call me, asking for forgiveness.

The lunch bell rings and it hasn't happened. I sigh, heading to the rest of my classes with a heavy heart.

*****

"I'm going to throw up," I tell Rachel, holding onto her arm in a death grip. She just scoffs, gently prying my hands away from her arm before they leave red marks on her skin.

"Kurt, believe me, you got this. Just go up there, and rock it like you always do," she comforts.

"But what if it's too safe," I voice my concerns at my audition choice, glancing across the stage where Mercedes and Britney are both waiting as backup. My costume is a little tight, seeing as I'm wearing my clothes for Not the Boy Next Door underneath.

"Safe is what we need, something we can rock and show Carmen Tibideaux who we are and why NYADA deserves us," she continues. I sigh, and watch as she leaves to take her spot up in the auditorium seats. I swallow past the lump in my throat, and walk out on stage.

Five seconds into the audition, I know exactly what needs to be done.

After finishing a flawless rendition of Not the Boy Next Door, the last thing I expected to see was Blaine giving me a standing ovation. I look at him in shock, our eyes connecting briefly and my heart stops when I see him. Then Carmen Tibideaux begins speaking and then my heart stops again for a different reason. She said Hugh Jackman himself would be proud of that rendition. Holy crap, holy crap, holy fucking crap she's still talking.

"T-thank you," I stumble over my words in my haste to get them out, walking off the stage with my mind blown. I collapse into the arms of my friends, who thankfully managed to perform backup to me absolutely flawlessly despite the limited time to prepare.