A/N: As is much of this story, this was actually inspired by a real life incident where I just kept fucking up this one section of a piece and my conductor got rather frustrated with me. Fun fact :P

As they grew closer to the Regionals competition, rehearsals were more frequent, extending longer and growing more tiring as everyone's patience wore thinner.

And of course, two weeks before competition, Mr Schuester pulled out a new piece of music, telling them they were doing it for Regionals.

"But Mr Schuester," Rachel had protested indignantly, "there's no way this will be perfect in time. I mean," she glanced around the class, holding her head high, "I know I will be-"

"Hell to the nah!" Mercedes yelped, giving Rachel a filthy look.

Beside them, blocking out their bickering, Kurt stared speechlessly at the sheet music in his hands. Sam, seeing the startled look on his face, leaned across and scanned the music, letting out a low whistle.

"Shit," Sam whispered. "Good luck with that…"

Blaine sat quietly as he examined his own music. It was tricky, but his part was relatively manageable.

"Alright guys, that's enough," Mr Schuester said, silencing the murmuring group. "Let's give it a run through…"

"Ugh, stop, stop!"

The New Directions shared a simultaneous resigned sigh as they collapsed back in their seats for the umpteenth time.

"I'm sorry-" Kurt tried, but Mr Schuester cut him off with an obnoxious wave of his (insert name here).

"Kurt," he said irritated, "this is about the tenth time we've run through this, I don't want to do it again…"

"I'm sorry!" Kurt cried. "It's sort of hard if you hadn't noticed…"

"It's perfectly manageable," Mr Schuester snapped. "Maybe if you practiced more… Rachel doesn't seem to be having any problems with her part."

Kurt recoiled, hurt flickering in her eyes. Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling bad for her best friend, even in her own secret happiness at the hidden praise. The other band members all shot glares at her and their band director and Blaine narrowed his eyes angrily. Everyone knew that Kurt practiced just as hard as Rachel and harder than most of them put together.

"Now try it again and don't mess it up."

"Kurt! Seriously?"

Kurt's eyes were filled with frustrated tears. "I'm trying."

The others winced with sympathy. It was obvious how much he was trying. His fingers were shaking with exhaustion and he was massaging his tired jaw and bruised lips.

"Well try harder," Mr Schuester said harshly. "Because this isn't good enough."

A single tear slipped from Kurt's diamond eyes as he down casted his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said tiredly.

"Stop being sorry and get it right,' Mr Schuester snapped. The other members all gaped at him as he picked up his (insert name here) again, about to start the piece again.

"Excuse me."

Blaine attempted to keep his voice calm as he addressed his conductor. He hid his hands, trembling with anger, in his lap as he turned his sharp hazel stare to the educator.

"With all due respect, Mr Schuester, I think you're out of line."

"That's not your place to determine, Mr Anderson," Mr Schuester said coldly, looking shocked at the uncharacteristic over stepping of one of his favourite students.

"I'm sorry," Blaine lied. "But Kurt really is trying, sir, and if you want him to get it right, you yelling at him isn't going to help."

Mr Schuester's mouth pressed into a hard line before he let out a frustrated sigh. "We're not getting anywhere," he determined. "We may as well just go home."

The rest of the New Directions were immensely relieved as they all filed out, most of them dropping Kurt sympathetic looks or words of comfort as they left, avoiding Mr Schuester's angry glare as he stormed off.

After Rachel gave him one last hug and left, Kurt and Blaine were the last ones in the music hall, Blaine remaining behind to resort his music in his usual meticulous practice, hoping to catch Kurt alone.

"Hey."

Blaine looked up with hopeful eyes as Kurt stood over him, bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey," he returned, putting his folder aside to give Kurt his attention.

"Thanks for what you said… before," Kurt said, his eyes slightly rimmed around the edges but a shining blue that made Blaine's heart stutter. He was so beautiful – a tragic beauty in his sadness. "I just- I was getting tired and I couldn't play and-" Kurt broke off as his eyes welled up again. "I'm sorry," he muttered, looking at the ground as he wiped at them. "I'm being stupid."

"No," Blaine breathed soothingly, taking one of his hands so to regain his attention. It worked – Kurt's eyes met Blaine's quickly and a jolt of electricity ran through them, both of them hastily moving their hands away. "I don't think you're being stupid," Blaine managed after a moment. "We all have bad days."

Kurt nodded mutely, thankfully not breaking his gaze.

"You know," Blaine tried, shifting in his seat nervously, "if you wanted to talk about it…"

Kurt gave him a look of surprise. "You seriously want to hear about my problems?"

Blaine nodded, probably a bit too eagerly, leaning over the stand of the keyboard. "I'd love to," he said without thinking. "I mean-uh…" he faltered as Kurt raised an eyebrow. "We all need somebody to talk to," he finally managed.

Kurt nodded, all traces of amusement gone as he smiled gratefully.

Blaine let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. "So…" he had to clarify, "is that a… yes?"

"Yes," Kurt confirmed. "Do you… want to go get coffee or something?"

Blaine couldn't help his large grin as he nodded eagerly. "Sounds great," he enthused. "I know a really good place actually…"

Sam narrowed his eyes as he spotted the pair sitting at a table, deep in animated conversation half an hour later. He had had his suspicions about Blaine's feelings for the first alto player ever since he had asked Sam about him when they were working on their assignment over the weekend.

But now he was sure of one thing.

Blaine needed to back off.

And Sam had a secret weapon.

"Evans," Sebastian scoffed, "do you really think there's anything that could make me return to Lima?"

Sam paused, his hand tentatively wrapped around his cellphone as he cast another glance over at Kurt and Blaine, smiling agonisingly cutely over their coffee.

"There's a boy."

Silence. "Go on…"

Sam smirked, knowing he had Sebastian's weak point. "His name is Blaine-"

"Adorable," Sebastian interjected, sounding rather pleased.

"-and he's taken over your position as pianist for New Directions. He… I think he likes Kurt."

Sam could practically see Sebastian's smirk through the receiver. "I see your suppressed homosexuality has finally reached its peak and you're at long last ready to admit your blaringly obvious feelings for Baby Face Hummel. I don't know whether to puke or cry."

Sam didn't reply.

"Well… you know I find it hard to resist a challenge. On a scale of Mr Schuester to Zefron, how do-able is he?"

"He's a…" Sam considered this, "a James Marsden."

"Fuck," he breathed, sounding delighted. "I'll take it!"