Love and Fame: A Klaine Story

Chapter Thirty Five

We wake up the next morning at the crack of dawn, once again. Only this time, it's not because we need to get to a flight to get to Nationals, we are at Nationals. The nerves that had left during our own private show circle yesterday return tenfold, and I'm freaking out before we've even left the room. There are so many groups that are so good.

Mr. Schue tries to get us to eat some breakfast from the complimentary breakfast at the hotel. Unfortunately, this means that we are lumped in the same room with all the other show choirs that are staying here with us. I know it's probably in my head, but I swear I can feel them smirking at us, eerily like the way the jocks back at McKinley look before we get a slushie facial.

"Is your boyfriend even up yet?" Santana groans as we walk through the waffle bar. I grab a plate and look over at the yogurt section, deciding on a plain vanilla before turning back to her.

"No, he doesn't have to get up until eight for his interview," I answer, looking at the clock to see its about seven now.

"I hate him," she continues, and I nod in agreement.

"Tell me about it," I grab an apple, which looks like the safest choice in that fruit bowl, and sit with the rest of the New Directions. Nobody is eating much, either because we are too tired or because we are too nervous. Probably both, but mainly the latter.

About an hour later, Mr. Schue herds us all onto the bus to head to the venue. I sit next to Rachel, who's strangely quiet.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask her.

"I'm actually scared. I've never been scared for a competition before, what's wrong with me?" She mumbles, almost to herself.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, nothing is wrong with you. This is our last competition together before everything changes. Of course you're scared," I wrap an arm around her shoulder and she smiles gratefully up at me.

"At least we will be in New York together next year," she says. I feel the familiar flutter in my stomach at the thought of being in New York, but the more time passes that we don't get our acceptance letters, the more those flutters turn into jackhammers. But I just make sure none of my nerves show, because Rachel definitely doesn't need to hear me say I'm scared too right now.

"Yeah, we'll have each other," I tell her, squeezing her shoulders before pulling away. I feel my phone buzz in my back pocket and reach back to grab it.

Just wanted to say good luck in case I can't call you before you go on. I love you, no matter what happens. I smile at Blaine's text, typing out a quick I love you too back because I know he's probably in the dressing room at the moment and can't talk.

We get to the stadium that Nationals is in this year and all head out whooping and cheering, excitement and adrenaline flowing through. I roll my eyes as I see Puck and Finn chest bump hard enough they both almost fall to the ground, watching as they burst out laughing and fist bump each other.

I'm in awe as we walk through the rows and rows of seats towards the gigantic looking stage, where already stagehands are hurrying past one another, doing sound checks and light checks, and whatever other checks have to be done in order to make the night run smoothly. We follow Mr. Schue backstage towards a dressing room labeled New Directions. Inside are several couches as well as our costumes, which I can only assume Mr. Schue brought last night before we all went to bed.

We run through our set list in the limited space together one last time before changing. And then, we run through it again so that we can "feel how we move" according to Mike. Nothing seems different moving in the suit, although I guess I'm used to wearing tight pants that could probably restrict blood flow, so I'm probably not the best judge. I'm tying my tie when my phone rings, and I quickly pick it up, hearing the opening bars to Teenage Dream. Blaine's ringtone.