Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Thank you, mister...” A short pause, and a faint rustling of pages. “... Hummel. That’s all we needed from you.” 

Kurt’s mouth is still wide open, frozen at the syllable he was at when they interrupted him, and as soon as he realizes he’s actually gaping he snaps it shut. 

“Thank you,” he says in a clipped voice, forcing a smile and a small bow before he turns to leave the stage. He doesn’t add his usual ‘I hope to hear from you soon’, because he knows he won’t. There’s no specific reason as to why he is so sure about that, except maybe for the fact that he hasn’t had a single callback in three months. His last paid acting job had been a mute role in a closed run of an experimental play, a modern take on Everyman Kurt didn’t care much about and which had been cut short when eight days after the premiere a fire had destroyed the theatre and, it appeared, Kurt’s fledgling career along with it.

He pushes the thought from his mind. There’s no use lingering on lost opportunities and missed chances, and so he quickly packs his things together and heads for the exit. He barely even stops to curse when he sees it's raining, simply hauls his backpack over his head and runs out into the storm.

It seems today is just gonna be one of those days...

.

He heads straight home, and it’s a small mercy that Rachel isn’t there when he enters the apartment. He loves his flatmate, he really does, but the longer he goes without a real job -the time he continues to waste at the Spotlight Diner doesn’t count- the harder it gets to just smile and nod when she comes home with yet another story about some famous director she had lunch with, or a world-renowned choreographer she gets to work with, or her ridiculously perfect boyfriend Beau who is French and sends her flowers at work and takes her out for romantic picnics in Central Park, neither of which any of his ex-boyfriends ever did for him.

He knows he shouldn’t be jealous. Rachel worked hard to get where she is now, still does, and it’s not like she hasn’t tried to use her own connections to help him - see also the mute role in the experimental play.But Kurt works his ass off too and... it just isn’t enough. No matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, it seems like there simply isn’t any room for someone like him on -or off- Broadway. And no matter how many times he swore to himself he would never give up on his dreams, even Kurt Hummel has a limit to the number of ‘no’s he can take before he starts doubting himself.

The past few months of rejection and disappointment have one advantage however: at least this time he’s prepared. There’s cheesecake in the fridge and his favorite pjs are fresh in the dryer, and he’s got every America’s Next Top Model episode ever made downloaded onto his laptop. But just when he's gotten comfortable in the couch, laptop on his knees, ready for a night of wallowing and self-pity, a Skype notification pops up in the top right corner of his screen.

Kurt sighs. He’s no mood to deal with Mercedes’ flatmate’s antics, but he can hardly claim he’s got better things to do.

Kurt smiles. He does remember.

Kurt huffs. As far as he’s concerned it’s anything but perfect - he’s been dreaming of Broadway all his life and now people are telling him he should just stick to sitcoms? But Mercedes is already typing on.

Kurt just stares at the screen. In all honesty he knows Mercedes is right: Rachel would have no trouble finding a new flatmate - hell, she’d probably jump at the opportunity and move in with Beau. He really does hate his job and as for his friends...

Kurt grimaces. It’s not that easy. He’s been dreaming of New York since he knew what it meant, has been fantasizing about being on Broadway ever since he first heard his mom humming along to her Funny Girl record. He can’t give up that dream just because it’s hard to achieve. Because it’s supposed to be hard, isn’t it? He’s supposed to suffer and doubt himself and come out stronger in the end. He’s not supposed to take the easy way out and take advice from some ignorant, self-absorbed agent when he knows he was born to shine on a Broadway stage.

The click of the door and Rachel’s overly cheerful Helloooooooooooo! pull him out of his reverie, and he turns his attention back to the screen in front of him.

Kurt closes his laptop, turning around to Rachel who’s just entered their living room, her hair dripping wet but with the biggest, broadest smile on her face.

“Kurt, oh Kurt, you’ll never believe what just happened!”

She’s skipping, making her way over to Kurt and sitting down next to him, still with that dopey, insanely happy grin on her face, and Kurt can’t help but smile along with her, it’s infectious.

“So, you know I was out with Beau, right,” she starts, taking Kurt’s hand and almost crushing it in her obvious excitement. “And he took me to that place on 5th, you know, where they have those amazing brunches? And he... oh my god I still can’t believe he did that!” She’s squealing, fanning her free hand as if to calm herself down. “Kurt, he... he asked me to move in with him!”

She throws her arms around Kurt, nearly pushing him over with the force of her hug, and for a few seconds Kurt can’t do anything but let it happen. Rachel’s moving out?

“And I know! I know what you’re gonna say: it’s too soon, but his roommate got a new job in Atlanta and it’s just perfect, right?” She pulls back, eyes sparkling, and Kurt still can’t find anything to say. Fortunately, Rachel does. “It’s all so exciting, don’t you think? You should’ve been there, though, Kurt, oh God, it was so romantic, for a second I thought he was gonna propose! Obviously I would not have accepted that, it is much too soon, but-” 

She continues babbling, about how he shouldn’t worry because she’ll help him find a new flatmate and it will all work out. And who knew? Maybe his flatmate-to-be would be really handsome and really gay and they’d hit it off and get married and have twins, and Kurt can’t do anything but plaster a smile on his face and nod and assure Rachel that no, he doesn’t mind and yes, he’s so so happy for her.

But later that night, when she’s finally stopped squealing long enough for him to be able to excuse himself to go to the bathroom, he doesn't hesitate when he takes out his phone.