Hi, I'm C Coulter and I'm your writer for this fic.

First: I apologize about the delay. It's been difficult lately, especially with other issues to deal with on my plate... I apologize and hope to be able to do better in the future.

Second: Let us not forget that the Warblers are also a glee club. They have problems, especially with competition.

And finally: this is in dedication to all the gay friends that I know, those who had trouble finding themselves.

Thank you to everyone for your continued reading. It's really been unreal to me, and an honor. I would like to thank you, tumblr people especially, for blowing this up more than it already has. It really is beyond all expectations, and I am truly grateful.

This is the calm before the storm. The next one is the big one.

(I do not own Glee.)


Episode 15: Come In...

I'm Kurt.

I recently transferred to Dalton Academy.

I recently got flown to New York by the obscenely wealthy Twins. That can't be good—their evil and all that money puts them a few steps away from mounting world domination.

I found out what Windsors did on New Year's parties. I can't say I'm that worried…

But it certainly won't bode well for everyone if they hit the wrong lips.

When Kurt opened his eyes the morning of the 29th, looked through the window and saw the sky, the skyscrapers and Central Park, he smirked to himself. It wasn't a dream this time—he was really still in New York. It was a heady sensation; or perhaps that was just the effect of the height the condo was in. It didn't seem all too real, but his Christmas preset from Blaine—his own little debut on Radio City Music Hall—was so vivid in his mind that it simply had to be real.

He just finished getting dressed and was fixing his hair when there was a knock at the door. "Come in."

Reed's fluffy strawberry-blond hair peeked in. "Hey, you're up! Great! Ow…" he crushed his toe under the door as he came in. But he grinned and hopped over to Kurt. "So!"

"So…?" Kurt glanced at him at the corner of his eyes.

"Plans?" Reed queried.

"Aren't we supposed to go to your exhibit tonight in the Upper West Side?" Kurt asked as he lowered his hairspray. "Or did you mean for this morning?"

"Well I was just thinking that if you didn't have anything else on your plate…" Reed casually took out two gleaming platinum cards from his pocket and fanned himself with them, smiling up at his friend.

Kurt stared at the cards, then at him and back again. "You are not. You are not."

"Yes, I am," Reed answered. "The staff at Bergdorf have been forewarned to expect my presence and that of a…VIP. Some aspiring Broadway Diva named Hummel. Would you know him?"

"Reed…" Kurt turned fully to him. "This is too much. Not only have the Tweedles already flown me here, let me live in their Park Avenue condominium and give me full use of their chauffeur to go sightseeing in the past two days, but you've dumped an entire wardrobe of clothes onto me—worth thousands of dollars—including products…" He threw up his hands. "You can't keep doing this—I feel like a charity case!"

"Oh please, Kurt…" Reed's expression of irritation was almost frighteningly like his mother's. He got up and sat across him on the bed. "Why can't you just let us spoil you? It's not like we do this all the time."

"The first day I moved in, you guys fully furnished my room." Kurt said, eyes narrowed.

"That's different, it's a special occasion," Reed sighed. "Look at it this way. We're not doing this because we pity you or anything—why should we? You're a Windsor, so that doesn't make you any different from us. If you notice, we all kind of do this to each other, and not just you. Remember how the Twins pulled out Dwight's party? Was Dwight a charity case? No—his family has major shares in theme parks in Florida and some in the West Coast. Which is an added bonus for everyone else when we feel like going on a few rollercoasters. If you had as much money I bet you'd do the same for your McKinley friends, right?"

Kurt leaned back on his vanity chair and sighed, shrugging. "I suppose, I don't know—maybe, if I was particularly giving…" He smiled a little.

"Now in my case," and here Reed performed his best impression of a wounded bunny begging for help, "I've never had anyone to talk to about fashion and stuff like this, Kurt! Blaine's all right, but he can get kind of serious and he's always wound up with dealing with everyone else. Please, please, please go shopping with me to Bergdorf? You don't even have to get anything, you just have to put up with my company. Please?"

Kurt dropped his face into his hand with a deep sigh of surrender. "…well someone has to make sure you don't knock over the mannequins…"

"Yes!" Reed leapt off the bed—and fell face-first onto the carpet.

David was staring out of the window, his cell to his ear. "…but she's all right?"

"We're not sure yet, David," said the woman's voice gently from the other end of the phone call. "She's still in surgery… We won't know until a couple of hours."

"I understand…" David sat down at the bay window. "…I really wanted to be there."

"David, you couldn't have known," answered the woman. "And she didn't want you to know. You spent most of Christmas with her already when you should have been with your family."

"I don't spend enough time with her, I think. With school…choir…soccer…"

"You spend too much," the woman said. "Even she thinks so."

"It doesn't count. …I know there's a chance that I might not have that long with her."

Silence on the other end. "Oh, David," the woman finally said softly. "You shouldn't give up like that. She wouldn't be happy to hear that coming from you. We'll know how it turns out by end of today."

David sighed deeply, leaning back on the wall. "Please call me when Katherine gets out, Mrs. Rivers? I…I kind of want to be with her for New Years. Even if it's just over the phone."

"Of course, you'll be my first call the moment she gets out."

"Thank you, Mrs. Rivers. I'll talk to you later."

David hung up and let the hand holding the phone fall limp to his side as he looked out to the cityscape from the window, chewing on the thumbnail of his free hand. His body remained still, but his eyes flickered through the scene as though he were searching.

Wes came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking it a little in reassurance. "Hey. You going to be all right?"

David patted his friend's hand. "I will once she gets off the table."

"Hey man, if there's anything we can do, we told you—"

"I know." David said, looking up at him with a small smile. "Right now I've still got it under control. Whatever she needs, I've got it."

Blaine finally lowered the paper he was reading and walked over. He looked a little worried. "Wait—David… You taking care of Katherine like this is fine by us and all…but this better not be out of guilt. We talked about this, right?"

David got up. "Okay. All right. Let's not go back to this. Bottom line—I've got this. Katherine's going to be all right. All right? End discussion, guys."

Wes looked at Blaine, who just nodded slowly. Wes went to David and gave him a quick hug. "All right, man. If you say so. You're doing a great job."

"Yeah, thanks…"

Happily shattering the somewhat awkward air, a pair of wildly colorful blurs came tearing through the hall, putting on boots. "Let's go, let's go!" Reed cried, nearly tripping over his Fendis.

"And where do you think you two are going?" asked Blaine, raising an eyebrow, trying not to stare at how those black Sevens were clinging to Kurt's legs as he put on his Doc Martens. This was the problem with going ahead and kissing someone. Now that he'd had one, he had to keep wondering about more.

"Bergdorf's," Reed answered, struggling with the zipper of his boots. "We're going to go do retail therapy."

"Just the two of you?" asked Wes.

"Yeah," Kurt answered.

"Whoa, you two are not going out by yourselves," said David, walking up to them, looking at them as though they were crazy. "At least let me and Wes go with you."

"We're not five," Kurt said sensibly, raising an eyebrow as he put on his jacket—the white mink that everyone in the condo was secretly planning on destroying.

Wes shook his head. "Not exactly like that. It'll be like someone blind leading someone lame. Reed knows his way around, but you're keeping him from maiming himself and you don't know your way around New York all that well yet."

Kurt gave them a disbelieving stare. "You two are acting…odder than usual."

"No we are not," the two chorused, staring at them.

Perhaps they were. But it had mostly to do with something the twins had sent them over phone earlier. The Tweedles had fled bright and early that morning—possibly heading out to see decorators for the massive party that seemed to be attracting every Windsor and Dalton boy who had time to fly from wherever they were. Especially after the twins hinted that a couple of Victoria's Secret supermodels might make an appearance.

But when the twins sent this message from wherever they may be lurking:

AMBER ALERT—Saw the Knave in Le Pain Quotidien. Looks sobered down, don't know if good or bad. Keep tabs on Alice.

David and Wes started to get a little worried. Logan lived somewhere in the Upper East Side as well, but they had heard he was in Paris for Christmas with his severe father and the trophy wife. Him coming back within days of the party was something to worry about.

They had talked about this with the twins, about any Anti-Logan contingency plans as they tried to all but cuff Blaine and Kurt together. "What do you mean you can't just bar him from coming?" Wes had asked. "It's your house!"

"But it's technically not our party," Evan had explained. "You guys know it, we know it—the New Year party pass-around is a tradition and every Dalton tradition comes with annoying rules, such as…"

"The hosts have the option to kill the lights…" Ethan said, counting with his fingers.

"…thou shalt give all Warblers VIP…"

"…thou shalt not puke over the balcony…"

"…thou shalt not answer the phone if it's your parents—"

"…And every Legacy immediately has access into the party." Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. "And Logan's family has had Legacy for four generations, and in Stuart for two. And he's a Warbler. So he has triple the automatic invite."

This was impressive, seeing as how only a few Dalton boys can claim Legacy of this magnitude—the Twins included. David just barely made the upper echelons with two generations. Dwight had one generation fallback, while Blaine, Wes and Reed didn't even have Legacy to boast of.

So whether they liked it or not, if Logan so chose to arrive at the 31st, he would have to be admitted in. Blaine was actually that close to being official with Kurt, so Wes and David could take no chances. They had seen the confession backstage. And while they have good headway so far between the Rabbit and Alice, the Knave had every ability to step in.

"I have to buy Katherine something for New Year's anyway," David said casually. "Might as well go with you. I don't even know what to get her."

Kurt and Reed looked at each other. Kurt then said to them, "I suppose we could help you out in that direction…"

"Are you sure you want to go with us?" Reed blinked. "Because you're going to have to help me deal with holding Kurt back once he sees all the Marc Jacobs." He ducked Kurt's swat at him.

"It'll be fine," Wes said, already picking up his phone and putting it into his pocket.

"I won't be joining you, unfortunately," said Blaine, glancing at them, looking apologetically at Kurt. "Shane's disappeared and I have to go see where he'd gotten to. I'm only hoping that he didn't go out with Dwight—the Impala's also gone—who seems to have gone out hunting at the Morris-Jumel Mansion. And I refuse to have him contaminate my excitable brother." He rolled his eyes, exasperated. He wondered why they were hundreds of miles from school and yet he still had to babysit everyone else.

"We'll be fine without you, then," Kurt said, suddenly giving him a rather affectionate hug. Blaine was surprised, but held Kurt by the waist and smiled. "Have fun," he said.

"It's Bergdorf, Blaine. Your problem is prying me out."

"Then, I'll pick you all up later and I'll help them peel you off the door." He grinned.

Wes and David pretended to gag from the door, Reed kicking them as they did. But Blaine and Kurt had made some progress at least. They weren't shying away from each other anymore. But they've yet to make the Armageddon-style impact everyone had been waiting for. And they had to make sure no one suddenly decides to go out and be a hero before that happens.

"Dear god, Kurt, stop!" Reed begged. "I can't take it anymore!"

"Just a bit more—stop moving so much! " Kurt snapped.

"It won't fit!"

"Yes it will!"

"Well if you just let me—"

"No, not until I say so!"

"Just let me—"


Wes and David glanced at each other with deeply disturbed expressions at the noises in the dressing room. They were not quite prepared to board the actual train of thought that the sounds entailed, so David gingerly knocked. "Pardon me, guys, but what the hell?"

There was a brief squabble inside and Reed whined, "Kurt won't leave me alone! I told him that the pants won't fit! And I'm pretty sure that I'm losing my circulation!"

"They do fit and you just don't know how to zip them up right!" Kurt shot back.

"There's five different zippers!"

Wes pressed a hand into his temple. "I think I'll let you handle this," he said to David. To the two in the dressing room, he said with extended patience, "Are we positive that after this, we are finally leaving this place? It's been five hours and I'm pretty sure that dragon living in my stomach just ate my appendix."

"You were the ones who wanted to come with us…" muttered Kurt.

There was a sound of something zipping up so fast that fabric could have torn. "Yes!" Reed gasped from inside the dressing room. "Let's leave before Kurt shovels me into another coat!"

"You were the one who wanted me to come with you!" Kurt also shot at him.

Wes looked at David. "I'll go tell Blaine to come get us and tell some people to…pick all this up." He motioned to the plethora of shopping bags that were waiting at the counter.

To say that the twosome went overboard was an understatement. The number could rival corporate giveaways and it had come to the point that not even all four of them could carry it all. While Kurt steadfastly maintained that most if not all of them were Reed's, he was sure that a good number will be going back to Lima with Kurt—who was determined to indoctrinate his new stepmother to couture in the hopes that some of it rubs off on her son.

Wes left, leaving David to listen to the two in the dressing room.

"So…" Kurt said almost successfully offhand, brushing down his clothes, "…we have to talk about Shane."

Reed froze. "What about Shane?"

Kurt raised his eyebrow at him. "Reed, you can't be serious. He is following you around staring at you. He's worshipping you. He's probably the High Priest of Reed-ism right now."

"Kurt, please don't say those things, they really make me uncomfortable," Reed said tightly, looking down at the floor.

"Well they're true." Kurt said. He studied his friend. "Does it really make you feel that bad? Because if it does, we'll tell him to leave you alone."

"Shane's…really great, he's a nice guy, but…I just don't know how to feel about him being interested in me. That way."

Kurt stared, then let out his breath and crossed his arms over his chest. "All right, Reed. I'm about to make a breach of privacy here and you're going to have to forgive me but at this point it has to be asked: which way do you actually swing? Because Blaine and I, our radars scream their heads off on you especially after all this, but no one's actually sure."

Silence. David felt he should step away from this and gave the two their privacy by following after Wes.

Finally, Reed let out his breath. "…I don't know."

Kurt sat on the cushioned chair in the large dressing room. "You don't know," he repeated, stared up questioningly at Reed.

"I'm in high school—aren't I allowed to be a little…confused sometimes?" Reed mumbled, picking at the belt he was wearing. "I mean… I haven't ever really fallen in love with a girl before, but I always thought that it was because I just haven't found one I liked…? And I'm surrounded by all these people who pretty much think that I am, and it just makes me think that I should be, but at the same time I don't think that's right either—to be…gay just because everyone expected me to be…" He looked at Kurt. "Does this make sense at all?"

"Surprisingly, yes." Kurt smiled a bit.

"And then Shane… I met him and seriously, I didn't think I was…you know, hit or anything. The way Blaine was with you—"

"Pardon?" Kurt interrupted, narrowing his eyes at him.

"He got hit hard, Kurt—they tell me Blaine looked like he got hit by a freight train—just own it," Reed waved it away. "My point is…I didn't see Shane like that. He just looked like, well…a friend. New person. Blaine's younger brother. And then he started following me and you all started telling me that he was in love with me—"

"He is over the moon. Own that."

"—right, well—it's semi-not-mutual right now."

"Semi?" Kurt smiled a bit more.

Reed rolled his eyes awkwardly. "…No one's actually ever been in love with me. And to hear that Shane is, well…it…kind of…sounded nice. And I found him…really sweet, creepy as it is." He sighed. "But I don't want to keep Shane trailing along like this either—it sounds cruel." Reed smiled. "You're actually the first person to ask about this, did you know?

Kurt nodded slowly, considering. He looked around the room a moment, then said, "Can I ask another one? The way you are with us Windsors, Warblers… right now? You're just being you, right?"


"Are you happy when you're just…winging it with us?"

"You have no idea." Reed smiled.

"Then the label is unnecessary," Kurt declared, standing. He shrugged. "Not one of us is rushing you to figure it out—or they would've said so. You just keep being fabulous and we'll all get along. If you like girls, or guys, it doesn't really make a big difference to us. And whatever you decide, I'm sure that if Shane really does like you, he'll support. Or we'll make him. Whichever."

Reed laughed and shook his head. "Right. I'm sure."

"…and in response to this breach of privacy, I'll tell you a secret that if you tell anyone in Dalton, I will set fire to your McQueens." He leaned over and whispered in Reed's ear.

Reed listened, and then his eyes widened to their fullest extent, jaw dropping. He stared at Kurt. "No."



"It was plaid." Kurt nodded somberly.

"…and the hat…" Reed stared in shock, eyes bright.

"Okay, the topic is now over!" Kurt exclaimed, bright red in the face, walking out of the dressing room rapidly, Reed trailing after him, wildly excited as he chased him across the floor. "You can't just drop it like that! Details! When was this? And the accent! What did people say?"

"Conversation is over, Reed, and I swear if you tell anyone, especially Wes, David and the Tweedles, I will—"

"Wait," Reed looked around. "Where are Wes and David?"

The department store continued on in its bustle, but with no sign of their companions. They searched the floor, looking for them until they reached the store entrance, rushing outside. There was no car waiting for them either, and there was no sign of the twosome. "Didn't Wes say he was going to call the others?" Kurt said, looking around.

"Yes…even the bags are gone…" Reed found no sign of their bags. "Where did David go?"

"Maybe he followed him."

"I'll go check with the staff, stay here," Reed hurried off to find one of the attendants, nearly hitting glass in his haste. Kurt, who just pulled out his cell phone and do the rational thing—call them—made to go after his friend. "Reed, wait—!"

He stopped. He stood staring at someone he recognized, walking towards the direction of Central Park. He thought he was seeing things, but it had to be right—the blond head that moved through the crowd was still the same, but the green eyes looked dull with haze.

"…Logan…?" Kurt narrowed his eyes a little.

He looked different, the very appearance of someone who had gone through some holiday stress. He appeared paler than usual, his pallor contrasting too much against his jet black coat. Hands in his pockets, mist coming from his lips, he headed to the park.

Kurt glanced back to the door. He looked down at the coat he was wearing and sighed. He remembered what Logan said backstage and shook his head. If he had the chance to do it, he'll have to now, before the other Windsors could swoop down. He made a quick text, sending it to Reed.

Be right back. –K

And he ran after Logan before he could lose him in the crowd. He pierced through the people, somehow glad that Logan was so tall—he could still see him. As Kurt flew off, someone who was just heading to Bergdorf looked up and stopped in surprise at the sight of him.

Shane blinked. Where's he going…? He'll get lost— He quickly began to follow, crossing the street and going after him. A quick glance to where Kurt was looking helped him spot a tall blond heading to Central park. Shane felt startled.

Logan Wright…? What the hell…? His eyes darkened a little, and he walked faster, determined to catch up to them. He pulled out his Sidekick and sent a cryptic message to his brother.

SOS, Central Park! Follow my GPS! – S

Logan sat at one of the benches, folding his gloved hands together and looking up at the trees, exhaling a cloud as he did. There were always people in Central Park, but right now he could barely hear any of them. He was still fighting through his own fog. He rested his elbows onto his knees, leaning over.

A pair of beautifully-booted feet stopped in front of him topped by a swirl of white mink. He raised his eyes blearily and saw Kurt Hummel, flushed with exertion, looking at him. He stared a moment, not sure if this was what he was actually seeing. "…Kurt?"

"Hi," Kurt said shortly.

"Uh, hi." Logan sat up, blinking in confusion. "Why are you—" he stopped then remembered. "Ah… Twins must have taken you to visit for the New Year party…"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "I…saw you head here."

"And you followed me?"

Kurt colored bright red. "…maybe."

Logan nodded, just seeming to take this information without being able to feel anything about it. "Okay." He looked at the coat. "…it looks good on you."

"Everything does," Kurt shrugged.

There was a most awkward pause that followed. Logan seemed to look past Kurt and just look completely out of himself than was normal.

Finally, Kurt said, "About the coat… thank you."

Logan smiled slightly and shrugged, almost disinterested. "Not a big deal. I figure the rest of the Windsors buried you in more anyway."

Kurt finally just cut to the chase. "…look, seriously now—are you all right? Because you don't look—"

"Venomous? Intense? Dangerous? Weapons-Grade Psychotic?"

The countertenor pursed his lips. So Logan was self-aware, and aware of what everyone else thought of him. He had to give him that. "…healthy, was the word. I know they're trying to make you better, in some degree, but what have they been giving you?"

"I decided not to ask…but half the time I feel like I'm going to go full stop altogether—I'm that hazy. I just wanted to get out and get some fresh air." He waved absently. "Clear my head. Right now, I'm just… I feel like I'm going to disappear."

Kurt didn't know what to make of that. He sat carefully next to him, remaining a prudent distance. "…but you're going to be all right?"

"Yes, I think so. Once I leave my father's spyglass, I'll be all right," Logan smiled a little.

Kurt remembered Mr. Wright very vividly. "…yeah, your dad really knows how to roast."

"That was the best Parisian Christmas ever…" Logan said sarcastically. "I loved sharing a room with the old man and Michelle, pretending to be straight and shaking hands with politicians."

Kurt almost smiled. Logan looked at him and added, "How long will you be in New York?"

"Until New Year…"

"Oh so I'll see you at the party?"

Kurt stared. "The party?"

"Every Dalton Legacy is automatically invited to the New Year party tradition… I know that much. I didn't think I was going to go, but now…" he smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'll be good. As much as the drugs will allow anyway."

Kurt felt awkward and stood. "The party. Do the Twins know? They didn't—"

"Shh!" Logan suddenly said, looking up. He seemed like he was listening. "…do you hear that?"

Kurt listened. He heard a lot of laughter and talk from a crowd not too far from where they were, but he hadn't been consciously listening to them. It was only now that he noticed that there was something else.


Logan got up and looked to where it was coming from. After a moment's craning, he suddenly smirked, looking a bit more like his old self. "Ah. I get it. Come on."


"You'll want to see this." And he grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled him along over the path. Kurt's eyes widened, staring at the sudden contact. Only Blaine had ever held his hand so casually before.

It was at this point that Shane ran out of hiding and chased them. "Hey! Logan!" he yelled.

Logan appeared as though he knew he was there the whole time. He casually released Kurt's hand and said, "Hey Shane. Nice to see you again. Good timing. You'll want to see this too, so you can tell the others."

Shane, startled and confused at his casual attitude, only managed to say, "What? See what?"

"Our competition for Nationals."

The crowd in the park a way off from them was still growing, mainly because of startled onlookers. They looked like a group of students, most of them, clapping their hands to the beat. They were wearing ordinary clothes and looking excited. They formed a semicircle around a group of girls dancing and singing. There was a group of girls in rows, singing in chorus, while there was a primary group out front that was singing and dancing to "Do Somethin'".

Logan being the tallest, he pushed through the crowd for a better look and helped Shane and Kurt get nearer. The girls were particularly good—the ones in the ranks were singing in perfect chorus, having arranged the song into a show choir version that sounded clear in the air.

They backed up the main singers up front, who were shameless. They had the voices and they were unbelievable dancers, perfectly synchronized.

I see you looking at me

Like I was some kind of freak—

Get up out of your seat—

Why don't you do somethin'?

Sadly, it was the tail end of the song that the three caught up to. The girls made their finale, the lead three making a solid finish of their harmonization and high notes, and the crowd burst into applause and cheering, especially from the students.

"What the…?" Kurt stared at the girls, who were jumping up and down, waving and blowing flirty grins at everyone.

"Harold Kramer High School," Logan explained. "I've seen them before. They like to do public exhibitions. Sometimes with good and bad results because of the police shooing them off—I hear they invaded Grand Central once—but they don't care. These are just their girls. You're going to want to see what happens next."

The beautiful black girl with long braids that reached to her hips, one of the lead singers, was getting the crowd riled up. "You want some more of this?" she yelled, and the crowd cheered.

"Yeah!" the redhead among the lead singers waved to them. She made a come-hither gesture. "Hey boys! Let them have it!"

And from the crowd, rushing past everyone else, a mass of boys poured. They were all dressed in casual clothing and they gave each other high fives as the music from their stereo started to blast. They were all playing around, but the had the same formation as the girls—a solid vocal group behind the main singers.

A tall, slightly built boy with close-cropped brown hair moved to front and grinned, "Come on, boys—let's get them!"

They began to dance—and they were even better than the girls had been. The boys in front could really move, the likes of which Kurt hadn't seen since Mike Chang. It was like a whole group of Mike Chang.

Shane stared. "…wow."

Kurt swallowed. Their vocals at the back did not dance as wildly as they did, but their voices melded in perfect harmony, like the Warblers'. And even in their dance, they energy was higher than the Warblers', each movement fluid and voices clear. Their music drove everyone to dance.

I've got the magic in me

Everytime I touch that track it turns into gold

Everybody knows I've got the magic in me

When I hit the floor the girls come snappin' at me

Now everybody wants some presto magic

If that hadn't been bad enough, their lead singers were also their lead dancers. Their show choir rendition of Magic was positively infectious and the grown was moving along to the beat already. The three boys in front were taking the lead.

Magic, magic, magic

Magic, magic, magic

Magic, magic, magic(ahoo)

I've got the magic in me!

They broke ranks, the chorus behind them dancing and just clearly having fun with what they were doing, grinning to each other. A dark haired boy slid forward on his knees and began to sing as he danced like a professional:

These tricks that I'll attempt will blow your mind

Pick a verse, any verse, I'll hypnotize you with every line

I'll need a volunteer, how about you, with the eyes?

Come on down to the front, and stand right here and don't be shy

And they could rap. How this was even happening was beyond comprehension. Each of the lead three had their turn at a line.

I'll have you time-travellin', have your mind babblin'

People tryna inherit the skill so they askin' me

Even David Blaine had to go and take some classes, and

I see Mindfreak like, "What's up man, what's happenin'?"

So come one, come all, and see the show tonight

Prepare to be astounded, no Ghost or Poltergeist

You know I'm no Pinocchio, I've never told a lie

So call me Mr. Magic Man, I float on Cloud 9

Kurt's heart was in his throat. This was bad. This was really really bad. The Kramer team had every synchronized order of the Warblers and all the energy and bright movements of New Directions. He hadn't seen this level of performance since Vocal Adrenaline—but the Kramer students had nothing robotic about them. They were just…

"Pure Energy," said Logan, eyeing them. "They're the Kramer High School Pure Energy."

The crowd cheered as the girls tore out of the crowd again and joined the boys—forming one massive sound, voices seamlessly blending as they danced.

I've got the magic in me (I got the magic, baby)

Everytime I touch that track it turns into gold (Yes it turns to gold)

Everybody knows I've got the magic in me (I got the magic, baby)

When I hit the flow the girls come snappin' at me (They be snappin' baby)

Now everybody wants some presto magic

Magic, magic, magic

Magic, magic, magic

Magic, magic, magic(ahoo)

I've got the magic in me!

At the end of their performance, the crowd—mostly comprised to Kramer students—stared to cheer wildly for the team, who were all cuffing each other, giving high fives and brofists. They bowed to their crowd, wacing and pointing. "Say it, Kramer!"

"Nationals!" the school cheered.

"Say what?"


"Where we going?"

"That's right! Yeah!" the lead singers pumped their fists into the air, earning more cheers.

Kurt felt sick. They were insane. That team was insane. Shane wasn't a Warbler but even he looked ill. They were ferocious—and it wasn't even a stage performance. There was just no way that this team wouldn't actually make their Regionals and subsequently step into Nationals. Logan looked a bit concerned but he just shook his head. "Let's go. Come on."

They were headed out of the crowd when they heard a voice. "Hey! Hey, Warblers!"

Kurt's eyes widened and he turned. One of the lead singers, the boy with the brown hair who was Finn's height and just as built, was pushing his way towards them. He had a big smile. "Hey there, boys—you liked the show?"

"You…know who we are?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"Who doesn't know you?" he answered with a grin. "We keep our tabs, man. Saw your Sectionals. You tied with the New Directions." He extended a hand. "I'm Tom, I'm the captain."

Logan shook his hand. "Logan. This is Kurt…and Shane."

"Hey." Shane shook hands with him.

"So we be seeing you at Nationals, yeah?" grinned Tom. "I sure hope so. This was all preview-of-coming-attraction. We're going all out for Nationals. We're coming after you guys."

"Sure…" Logan nodded, almost irritated. "Then, we'll be going."

"Don't be strangers!" Tom called to them as he grinned and ran back to his group. He seemed to wait until the Dalton boys subsequently left. And his teammates, the other leads, gathered around him. "S'that all about, Tom? Softening up the competition?" asked one of the other boys

"Sort of, yeah," Tom smirked.

"Please," said one girl, the one with the blonde highlights. "We can take them. They tied with the team that didn't make it past Regionals."

"Come on, now," said the good-looking black boy who rapped the best among them. He had his arm around the girl with the long braids. "They might make it this year."

"But they're so serious," grumbled another boy.

"Yeah they are," grinned Tom. "Let's go get out of here, guys. Check up on them Warblers later."

"You got that right."

"So I'll leave you here," said Logan on the street, looking at Kurt and Shane. "Don't let the Energies bother you. We don't have to deal with them until Nationals."

Kurt just nodded, mind racing. If the Warblers didn't get cracking, they won't make it past Vocal Adrenaline let alone those monsters in the park. What was New York feeding its students? He had to go talk to Harvey and Medel the moment he set foot back at Dalton.

Logan put a hand on his shoulder. "See you, then? At the party?"

Kurt shifted a little and nodded. "Yeah."

Shane, behind the taller boy, looked up, frowning. He's coming to the… He grit his teeth. This guy had already broken his brother's heart once, and now he was going to do it again. In front of him.

Like hell you're planning on kissing him in that party. He stepped carefully past Logan, taking his hand out of his pocket. He held the memory card of the song in the Radio City Hall. He had another copy—so this one will go to good use. Glaring with barely any veils, he surreptitiously dropped the card into Logan's coat pocket.

I hope it gives you a fucking heart attack. Shane turned and grabbed Kurt's hand. "Let's go, Kurt—they're looking for us."

Shane wasn't the calm brother. He wasn't composed, he acted at will. He was the one who moved before thinking. He wasn't patient either, like Blaine. And Logan had just used up what little patience he had. So what if he was on medication and he was trying? Shane wasn't forgiving him. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

"See you!" Logan smiled, before he walked off.

Kurt only glanced back as Shane pulled him along. He looked at Shane and saw the look on his face. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded.

"Just stay away from him, all right?" Shane snapped. "You know what he did to Blaine!"

Kurt pulled his hand away, but strode alongside him. "So you knew—"

"Knew? I had to listen to everything Blaine went through when Logan did all that stuff him!" Shane snapped. "He got jealous, he got angry, he got violent, he left him for another guy, and when that other guy realized what an asshat Logan was and started to hang out with Blaine for safety, he slammed them both! If I wasn't in Colorado, I would've—" He snarled. "I just hate that guy."

Kurt shook his head. He didn't even know what to think of Logan anymore. He was begging for a chance but the story keeps unraveling and telling him that it wasn't going to be good. That story between Blaine, Logan and the soloist was still not complete and it wasn't boding well.

"Kurt! Shane!"

They looked up and saw the other Windsors running towards them. "Geez, you freaked us out!" Wes almost yelled when he ran up to them. "I go call Blaine and I come back and Reed's freaking out because you're gone!"

"Logan's in New York," Shane said without preamble.

"What?" Blaine pushed past Wes and David and went to Shane. He had received his brother's SOS and thought there was something bad that happened, and in a way, something had. "Where did you see him?"

"The park," Kurt said, shaking his head. "I…followed him. He looked bad. He said he was on a lot of medication."

"He's coming to the party!" Shane interjected.

"He is not!" Reed gasped. "He can't!"

"He can," said Blaine, shaking his head. "He's a Legacy. He gets to go." He looked at Kurt. "Are you all right? You look a bit shaken."

Kurt, for once, wasn't worried about Logan. He looked at the other Warblers. "I think…for Regionals and Nationals…we may be in a little bit of trouble."

On the next episode: SPOTTED: E&E holding what had to be the biggest school-tradition party in the Upper East Side. The booze is flowing, the music's pounding and the fireworks are going off everywhere. And we mean EVERYWHERE. So If the Windsors don't cracking, B and K might not be able to get that kiss if L comes crashing in. And with S having dropped him that little bomb, someone may just forego his meds for the evening...