Chapter Text
Prologue Part 2: Blaine Anderson
Blaine Anderson auditioned because he lost a bet.
“Sorry I’m late, guys.” Blaine walks into the coffeeshop in a rush, dropping his things by the table and pulling up a chair along the outside of the table.
“It’s all good, dude. We get it, finals week is a bitch.” one of his friends comments before motioning over to a steaming mug of coffee. “Here” he starts “you buy next round.”
“Thank you!” Blaine all but moans, grabbing the mug and taking a long sip. Soon enough, he eases into conversation with his friends.
Going to school in New York was just the thing Blaine needed to finally have some freedom and independence in his life, but double majoring on top of student teaching and late night gigs can take a toll on a person after a while. Thankfully, the main core of his high school friends are also living in the area for school or work, and agreed to have a standing meeting at least every two weeks for coffee and to catch up. Nick and Jeff, well, he lives with them, so he catches up with them every night, or not if he just catches them in a compromising position. But most days, they act like roommates, just slight awkward moments when the other two decides to get all lovey dovey. Trent goes to school down the street, studying Sociology at Columbia, with Wes also attending there, studying Law. Still not surprised with that one Blaine tells himself everytime he goes over to Wes’ and see his coveted gavel in its case. They all have different personalities and quirks, and yet somehow they all mesh together as a cohesive unit, one that got them to Nationals their Senior year with their Glee club.
As conversation and laughter flows, he goes to take a sip to realize his cup is empty and is assuming that everyone else’s is as well. Blaine grabs their cups on the table as he stands. “Okay, my turn to grab. Same thing?” he confirms with his friends.
“And while you’re at it, flirt your way to get the barista to give us a few biscottis too, yeah?” Trent laughs, the rest softly joining in.
“I do not flirt with her.” Blaine retorts.
“Well, yeah, we know that, you’re gay. But does she know that?” Nick, sitting on Jeff’s lap, chuckles, the rest nodding in agreeance.
“I’m sure she does. I’m just being nice.”
“You may be nice, but I swear to God, every time you come up to grab our order, she’s this close to declaring her eternal love to you. I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to give you her number this time round.” Jeff replies, going off his boyfriend.
“Oh, come on, guys.”
“I agree with the consensus. Your actions, in your opinion, may come off as being nice, but to someone that does not know you, it comes off as flirting.” Wes chimes in.
“Guys, she is not interested in me!” Blaine interjects, just soft enough that the barista in question can’t hear.
“She soooo is!” Nick rebuts.
“So not!” Blaine all but yells, which causes a slight silence in the coffeeshop, also a few stares, one coming from that same barista. He hunches over the table.
“Look, she is not interested! And she will not give me her number, Jeff.” he whispers pointedly to his friends.
“We could make a wager on it.” Trent quips. All of them turn to Blaine. He raises an eyebrow.
“What kind of wager? That she likes me? I’m not gonna flat out ask someone if they are interested in me.”
“No, but if she does something to prove her interest, say,” he looks over at Jeff “gives you her number, then that we would be right and you would have to admit you’re wrong.”
“Okay, so if I win and she does not show her interest, what do I win?” Blaine asks.
“We will buy your coffee here for the next year.” Trent says, looking around at the other guys, who nod in agreement.
“And if I lose?” Blaine asks. Silence as the guys think of what his punishment would be.
“You’ll have to publicly admit that you, Blaine Devon Anderson is a flirt who leads girls on although you are capital “G” gay.” Wes comes up with. They all chuckle.
“There has to be more, something equal to a year’s worth of coffee.” Trent contemplates. Silence again. Blaine chuckles to himself at how ridiculous this is.
“I got it!” Nick exclaims. “You also need to go to one of the million open audition calls and audition. And I don’t mean half ass it either, really go for it!” They all murmur in agreeance.
“No! Nononononononono! That was cool in high school and such, and yeah, the gigs at the restaurant is cool and all, but I can’t. I’m not good enough for those things. Besides, what kind of open call are you talking about?”
“ America’s Got Talent has an open call...oh, tomorrow!” Jeff says, looking at his phone. “So if you lose, before you even leave this coffeeshop, you need to go on the website and register. And to make sure you don’t flake out, Nick and I will tag along and be your moral support.” They all nod, agreeing with the blonde.
“I don’t know guys…” Blaine starts to hesitate.
“Come on! What’s the worst that could happen? We’re gonna find out either way, at least we should have fun with it! And besides! You are an incredible performer! Who knows, maybe this open call may be your big shot.” Trent chirps in. They all look at Blaine, contemplating.
“What the Hell? Deal.” he concedes, holding out his hand, which Trent shakes. The rest of the table cheers, much to the annoyance of the other patrons around them. Blaine rolls his eyes as he rabs the mugs again and heads to the counter, approaching the very sweet barista that always seem to be there when they are meeting up. He gives her the order.
“Also, can we also please get a few of those chocolate biscottis? They just look so good!” Blaine politely asks with a smile, pointing at them.
“Of course!” the barista says with a thousand-watt smile, her cheeks a shade of pink. After making the coffee, handing over the biscottis and a few napkins, she rings up the order. Blaine sees a discrepancy.
“Oh, sorry, I also meant the biscottis as well.” he apologizes.
“Don’t sweat it, it’s on the house.” the barista says with a wink.
“Wow! Thank you! That’s really nice of you.” Blaine says as he finishes paying, grabbing the tray of drinks and treats.
“You forgot your napkins!” the barista calls out as he heads back towards the table. He quickly drops them off at the table and power walks back to grab the wad of napkins which she left on the counter. He thanks her again, finds his seat and his coffee, and proceeds to listen to his friends talk. As they chat, Blaine starts to smile, realizing that nothing was pulled by the barista. Give me my year’s worth of coffee! He smiles. Soon enough, the coffee was gone and everyone had to leave to get back to their busy lives. Blaine is putting on his jacket and gathering his things while the rest clean up.
“So, guys. Same time next week? You guys owe me some coffee!” he says with a smirk. He hears the murmurs and “yeah yeah yeah…”’s from his friends. He gathers his bag and turns to leave when he hears a huge “HA!” from Trent. He ignores him and starts to walk when he hears his friend calling him sweetly.
“Oh Blllaaaiiiinnnneeee…”
Blaine stops. He knows that voice. That was the voice that taunted him whenever he lost an argument or a solo to Trent. Oh shit he says to himself. He takes a deep breath and turns around slowly, to see his friends smile at him with a knowing stare. His eyes drift towards his friend, more particularly, one of the napkins in his hand. On it in messy writing, a small part of it stained from a couple drops of coffee, is the name “Alyssa” and as clear as day, the digits to a phone number with a small heart next to it. He sighs in an act of defeat
“Well, shit.”
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“This line is so long, guys. Let’s just-” Blaine starts to get out of line.
“NO! No no no!” Jeff tuts as he grabs his arm and pulls him back into line with that. “You are gonna stay in line, you are going to audition, and you are gonna kill it, get it?” he says, emphasizing each point with a poke to the chest. Blaine heaves a sigh and a nod as he turns back around, moving a few steps in the slowly moving line.
“I really hate you guys, you know that?” he mutters.
“We love you too.” Jeff says with a smile, ruffling his hair. Blaine smacks his hand away.
“Dude! The hell?!”
“Don’t worry! I didn’t mess up your hair! At least it’s not breaking off in a chunk like back when you use to gob on an entire bottle of gel in your hair-”
“That was ONE TIME, Jeff! And Nick, stop laughing!” he chides his other roommate with a backhand to his arm, chuckling next to his boyfriend.
“Relax! We’re just making sure you stay loose. We know how you get for auditions.” Nick reassures. Blaine sighs. “I get it. Thank you. But really, this is gonna be like every other audition. I’ll play, get a ‘thanks, we’ll let you know’, and never get a call back. And I’m okay with that.” Blaine says with a shrug.
What felt like hours later, the three finally made their way into the venue. As they walked in, Blaine accidentally bumps into someone. He turns to see a small brunette. He can’t help but notice the very loud sweater she was wearing, very brightly colored with a unicorn stitched into the middle of it.
“Sorry, miss. You okay?” The woman smiles.
“I am, thank you. I’m sorry as well, I was not paying attention.” she says, gesturing to her phone.
“That’s okay. Well, I’m on my way in. Enjoy your day.” Blaine says, starting to walk away.
“Break a leg! Kurt? Kurt! Hey Kurt! Wait for me!” he hears the young lady fade off, presumably running towards the person she was with.
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“Thank you, everyone. As you know, we audition in multiple places and need to consider everyone that auditions before we make our decisions. We will review your audition once all of them has finished, and we will contact you if you move on sometime between February and April. Great job to all of you and best of luck.” the producer said enthusiastically, though, still clearly scripted.
Yep. Just as I suspected. “we’ll call you”. Whatever. He thinks as he exits the audition room and back to the holding room where his friends are waiting. The second he is seen, Jeff and Nick come running over.
“How did it go? Did they think you’re great? Did they love you?!”
“Did they swoon with your charm and dapperly good looks?”
"Of course, they swooned, I mean look at him! What guy or girl would no immediately fall in love with our Blainers?"
“Oh my god, we’re gonna be those obnoxious friends in the audience they all pan on during the talk with the judges!”
“DUDE! We can make the official Blaine Anderson Street Team!”
"It will have, like, thousands of people on Facebook about it, and can you imagine the Twitter followers?!"
"Dude, we'll post embarrassing photos of him online, answering questions from adoring fans. We can give them the backstage scoop!"
"We can write Blaine fan fiction!"
“We’ll be fandom famous!”
“GUYS! Guys! Can both of you chill for a second?!” Blaine cuts off the two with a chuckle. “They didn’t say anything. They can’t until all the auditions in all the cities are through. Then they will look at our auditions and see who is moving on. So they will call me if anything happens.” Blaine told them in a tone that also told them I told you so .
His two friends, sigh and nod their heads as they head back out into the busy Manhattan afternoon…
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The room is stuffy. The lights are hot. There’s cameras everywhere. And right now, Blaine really hates his friends. He’s sitting in a corner, away from the hot lights of the makeshift vanities set up around the large holding room. His earbuds are in, listening to music to psyche himself out. He keeps cracking his knuckles and stretching his fingers, making sure his fingers stay nimble for when he get to the keyboard on stage. He’s nervous . This was only supposed to be for fun, just so he can pay his debt for losing his bet. But now, he’s been thinking about it and what the show can do for him. People will see him. People will see what he does. People could like what he does. He could win it.
When he got the call, in the middle of the school day as he was dismissing the classroom he is student teaching for for their lunch, it took everything he had not to start jumping in the middle of the hall. The last thing he wants to do is start a trend of jumping children everywhere he goes in that school. He got off he phone and his mind starying drifting off teo
Blaine won’t lie and said that he hasn’t daydreamed about making it big and selling out arenas and venues. He’s dreamed of signing with a label and winning many Grammys for his work. Deep down, down in a place he has kept hidden for a few years. he’s always wanted that notoriety, that sliver of fame, making a difference in someone’s life by his work, his music. It makes him smile and gives him butterflies thinking about it.
“Blaine? Blaine Anderson?” he hears through his headphones. He raises his hand and stands up. “Here.” he replies. He follows the voice to see a guy in a black “AGT CREW” shirt and a headset approach him.
“Awesome, you’re up soon. Just wanted to get a few shots of you and ask you a couple of questions for the camera, okay?”
“Okay.” Blaine says, pocketing his headphones.
After what feels like ages, he gets let out of the room and into the holding room next to the stage. He quickly finds a small bottle of water and a napkin to wipe off the sweat on his face. That room was even more hot and stuffy than the other room. It did not help that they asked him a lot of questions about his life and upbringing, some he was not 100% comfortable in answering.
As soon as he was able to take a few gulps of his water and get the sweat off, another crew member ushered through the holding room and backstage. He can hear the murmurs from the crowd as well as from the crew and other auditioners waiting their turn. He sees the stage and the lights and his stomach does backflips. I can do this, I know I can do this he keeps telling himself as a mantra to calm himself down. One by one he sees the people he was backstage with be escorted on stage and replaced by another. He has heard the cheers, the jeers, the buzz of a judge hitting their “X”. He knows he’s up soon. A crew member leads him into the wings, explaining that he is next.
“Well good luck, we’re rooting for you.” he hears Howie say to the person before him as the audience applauses. Blaine closes his eyes, takes some deep breaths to prepare himself for his turn. He recognizes the song from the first stroke of the guitar, in a way helping him to calm down. But then, he hears a voice.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly…
For a second, Blaine forgot to breathe. The voice he thought was so pure, so beautiful, every note sang was spot on and in tune. It seemed flawless and natural, like the person has sang this song their whole life. Now *that*. That is what Music is. he thought to himself. He just had to know who was singing so beautifully. He opened his eyes and turned around to see the source of it on the stage.
Standing in the middle of the stage was a person as beautiful as the voice that is coming out of it. First thing Blaine notices is the fair, almost China Doll like skin on him, not a blemish to be seen. From the angle he is at, he can’t really see his face, but definitely how much effort he puts into his hair, chestnut brown, coiffed to perfection. He can’t see his face, but he can’t help but notice the skintight jeans, accentuating the man’s backside, which makes Blaine blush a little bit. He can tell that this person makes an effort in how he looks. And truth be told, he’s making quite the impression on Blaine.
It took a moment for Blaine to notice that he stopped singing, and noticed the roar of the audience and they cheered for him to move on. After a few very kind comments from the judges, the mystery man was given four resounding “yes”es, and will be moving on. He thanks them and starts walking off stage, towards Blaine. Before Blaine could process what’s going on, he now knows the face that was attached to the voice. And he was beautiful .
“You were incredible.” Blaine all but breathed to the mystery man.
“Thank you. See you in the next round?” the man replies with a smile before walking away. As Blaine turns his head to follow the figure, a stagehand tugs his arm, making him turn back around.
“You ready?” the stagehand asks with a smile. Blaine closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.
“Yes.” he replies as he straightens his shoulders. He hears a “good luck” from the stagehand as he makes his way out of the wings and to the piano in the center of the stage. He gives himself one more deep breath as he walks on stage.
Okay, Blaine. he tells himself. Let’s do this…