#In fact... today I got a rejection letter from an opportunity I prepared months and months in advance for.

[aliaslua]

Living with the Turtles (headcanons)

Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo x Reader

Summary:  A secret mission that only the four brothers could accomplish requires them to become your personal bodyguards. How would each one of them react to sharing a house with you?

Category: Platonic relationship, domestic fluff, deep friendship.

WARNINGS: None c:

A/N: This actually could be a whole fic (maybe someday) but honestly I was just feeling very into domestic turtles today so I decided to post this. Let me know what you think!

You can also read it in AO3! <3

Leonardo

The order was clear, you needed to be hidden. To fade, become invisible. After a team of outlaw scientists from the old Sacks' company discovered that you DNA carried a sequence of molecules that was thought had disappeared from the human species many decades ago - the only sequence that could serve as a basis for creating new mutagens - your blood became the most precious material in the planet and you, the most wanted person in the world. The Federal Program for Assistance to Threatened Victims and Witnesses had no option but to hide you in the only place where you would be safe 24 hours a day, seven days a week: the old train station where New York's newest heroes lived.

How will each of them react to the brutal change of sharing their house with a stranger?

When Chief of police Vincent set up an urgent meeting with the Hamato brothers to make a request and warned that the fate of the world depended on it, Leo prepared to receive a mission that would involved discipline, discretion and unmatched fighting skills but when he realized they would have to spend the next few months being bodyguard to a human, his confidence immediately morphed into pure nervousness.

He is a true gentleman and is desperate to be the best host possible. Before you arrived, he ordered the whole family to clean the Lair with a military streak and himself inspected every room. He and Donatello built a private room  for you using some of the shoji screens from the meditation room and he provided a bed and headboard.

He's absolutely nervous the day you arrive. You are their first official guest and he will do everything to make your stay perfect. Because of that, your first interactions with him is a little awkward. He doesn't allow you to collaborate in any domestic activity and spends the first two weeks asking if you need anything ("No," You always answer "I am very comfortable, thank you.").

After a few days getting to know you better and seeing your determination to participate in the routine of the house, he finally manages to relax a little and takes this opportunity to share some house tasks with you. Despite that, he continues to treat you like royalty: pulling chairs, opening doors, covering you with a blanket at night and carrying you to your bed whenever you sleep on the couch -and then he ensures that the house is quiet, so you can rest. Nothing will interrupt your sleep, your peace, your security, your stay will be perfect, he will do anything to make you feel at home.

Living with Leonardo is a bit like being a soldier in a barracks, but without all the shouting. From Monday to Monday you have a schedule and after you finally manage to convince him to teach you a little self-defense, the training is hard and disciplined. Unlike the barracks, however, Leonardo is very comprehensive with your physical and mental limitations and it's more than willing to adapt your training depending on what you need most on the day. Weary? Deep meditation. Muscle pain? Yoga. Feeling unmotivated? Cardio.

Then when you finally get to know each other better, after a few weeks living together, Leonardo is like a mentor to you. He always has excellent advice and is always available to listen to you, regardless of how repetitive or superficial your problems are.

Leonardo's cooking skills are truly awful. It was during dinner, in fact, that you really started bonding. The pasta was slimy and bland and the sauce tasted like old ketchup: You had to intervene. Only when he saw how well you cooked - and wow that's a pretty good knife control! - he realized that you not only had a lot to learn, but a lot to teach. You have taken on the responsibility of teaching him how to cook the basics ever since and you will never forget his face when he first tasted missoshiro.

You're both obsessed with Chinese fighting movies. Every wednesday you watch a movie together and no matter how hard you try, you can't convince him that "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" is better than "House of Flying Daggers".

Of all the brothers, he is the one who gets used to your presence faster (even before Mikey) and his generosity is essential to make you feel welcome.

Raphael

It is not even possible to define with words the intensity of the fight that Raphael and Leonardo had when he told them that he had accepted the mission of hiding the human carrier. Once again Leonardo had made a decision without consulting the whole team but more important than that: Raphael was going to have to share the house with someone he didn't know and there was nothing in the world that made him more angry - and nervous - than that.

Deep down, Raph was more anxious than angry. Knowing that he was going to share his only intimate and personal space - his house  - with someone he didn't know made him feel super vulnerable, exposed. In fact, he was scared. He feared the possible looks of dread, disgust, repulsion. He knew that few things in the world could hurt more than a look of hatred and he was not at all comfortable with the reality that he might have to LIVE with someone who found him disgusting.

But when you arrived, the looks didn't come. You looked nervous, but not scared, let alone disgusted. As the days went by, Raphael realized that the only feeling you had before arriving at Lair was gratitude and after he actually understood that in fact he made you feel safe, the warmth in his chest was enough for him to forgive your invasion.

Sometimes you are just as scary to Raphael as he is for most humans. That day when he caught you alone in the kitchen taking the cookie sheet out of the oven, he realized that. You are so… small, so fragile and soft. He feels that if he breathes too hard or too close to you he will dismantle you, like a house of cards. It's also impressive to him how much noise such a small creature can make. God! Are your shoes made of iron? How can biting into toast be that loud? Even your breathing seems loud to him. But it is not your fault, you always answer, it's not like you're a trained ninja.

Raphael is the last one to be comfortable with your presence but when that day finally comes and he admits he likes it when you are around, he also decides that you are one of them now and for you he ride or die. Silently he swears eternal loyalty to you and from that day on, rest assured, you don't need to be afraid of anything anymore.

Because of this, Raph becomes strangely jealousy and possessive. You are now his best friend and he needs to know if everyone around you is good enough, well-intentioned enough and ensuring your joy and well being are now part of the mission. It's a little overwhelming at first but when you adjust the intensity it's wonderful to have someone who takes such good care of you.

His affection is always returned. You love his company and think it's funny how such a big man can be so soft. And soft he is, since what you most have in common is the appreciation for period romances. You love watching all the adaptation films from Jane Austen's books and maybe he cried at the end of Reason and Sensitivity - he will deny it until the end - but your favorite activity for you to do together is when you read to him while he works out. You are like a personal audiobook and he will never stop making fun of you for crying while reading Mr. Wentworth's letters.

Despite the affection, he is really a tease. He doesn't miss a single chance to remind you how small you look to him and nicknames like Tiny Temper and Shortstop are recurring. You always repay it whenever you can but ultimately you know that he doesn't mean bad.

Donatello

Donatello thinks that the idea of protecting the source of the conflict is brilliant, it seems much more rational to avoid a war before it happens and proceed a mission with a more discreet and strategic course of action than to appeal to physical strength and weapons. That said, he hates having someone else around as much as Raphael. Unlike him, however, Donatello is not afraid of rejection, he is... Uncomfortable. Privacy is a right that he considers essential and imagining that he may receive someone who is intrusive in his own home makes his head hurt.

Therefore, he receives you with extreme coldness. He helps with the organizing of their home and your personal space, of course, he doesn't want you to feel unwelcome, but it's essential for him to draw the line between mission and personal life and he wants to make that very clear. His room is off limits, the computer area is off limits and specially the laboratory is off limits.

But he soon realizes that his coldness is unnecessary and maybe even a little rude since you seem excellent at respecting personal limits and spaces. He was prepared to spend a long time refusing to answer invasive and indiscreet questions, but you seemed to have a genuine and respectful interest. In the end, he found your polite curiosity very charming.

After that, he showed you the lab on his own and was even happier when you got interested but didn't touch anything. He finally had someone around  with the same enthusiasm for science as he and he even started doing research based on your doubts. Enjoy, he's a great teacher.

But what you most like to do together is to sit on the huge couch in the living room with a cup of coffee and talk for hours on complex matters. Ethics, morals, economic and social configurations, what is the fate of the world? Why are we here? You certainly do not have the same theoretical background to refute him, but he loves your interest and loves to hear your subjective takes. A debate partner is everything he always dreamed of.

It's also a relief for him to be able to open up to someone other than his own brothers and he likes to hear the solutions you would give to his dilemmas from the perspective of a person who has lived a life so different from his. He also loves to watch you, but he will never admit it: Humans are fascinating, and he finds your ways and habits very funny.

Before you arrived he did a thorough research to understand what vitamins, minerals and supplements you would need to take while out of sunlight and with restricted access to various foods, so you also got you a personal doctor and nutritionist.

Michelangelo

The first week living with Michelangelo were almost unbearable. It may be fair to say that he was the only one among the brothers really pleased with your arrival and it was good to be warmly welcomed by at least one of them, but Mikey's excitement was a little overwhelming. He spent all day filling you with praise, flirting, asking about your life and life on the surface and it felt like he talked so much that he sucked all the air out of the room.

Knowing that your relationship could nor go on like that, in the second week of your stay you sat him on the couch and asked him to chill out just a little. You explained that for you it was super important to know that one of them was happy with your arrival and that you knew that he wanted to do everything to make your stay the best possible but for that he didn't need to treat you like a creature from another world, perfect and sovereign, you just wanted to be treated like ... an equal. That was more than enough. Michelangelo ceased to be a dedicated servant and became a great friend.

You couldn't ask for anything else in the world. Mikey was the perfect friend for a situation that could be unbearable without an icebreaker. He's fun, lovable and after you had that conversation, extremely relaxed and comfortable around you. His loyalty is unquestionable and every day he shows affection without hesitation.

He loves spending all the time he can with you and has volunteered to become your personal teacher of the art of graffiti. Leonardo can't know, but you are responsible for the new tags on the subway cars and on the doors of abandoned houses. Mikey loves to watch you do your hair and help you choose the clothes you are going to wear that day and you find it funny how that dynamic makes it look like he is playing house for the first time.

You made homemade pizza once and he asked you to marry him, a request to which you answered yes, of course. He made you a ring from the pizza crust and you drank soda with your arms crossed just like in weddings.

The most sensitive of the brothers. He always know when you're not feeling good and always has the right answer to make you feel better (that is, burrito blanket and reality shows).

[miwapave-blog]

Bahrain Visa - the Conspiracy

https://ko.ivisa.com/bahrain-visa

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As soon as you lodge an application, you are going to be redirected to a page where you're expected to upload documents.  As stated above, the very first requirement is to get an Engineering degree of recognised standard.  Prior to making a student visa application, it's imperative to find advice from a verified consultant, who will give you all the info necessary to generate the process simpler.

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Visa request may not be processed without your initial passport.  Today you can lodge the true visa application.  Though Singapore visa application is normally popular as an easy get through the procedure, you should ensure to submit the appropriate documents.

Furthermore, in the event the student is below eighteen decades of age the Australian visa method differs.  When you arrive, you should bring your visa to the suitable government office alongside a health check and proof of residence, and it's going to be traded in for a residence permit.  The consulate you go to depends on the condition of your residence for the last 6 months.

The Dirty Facts About Bahrain Visa By failing to accomplish this, you will not just wind up getting your visa rejected, but might also face a ban of up-to ten years.  Keep the above mentioned points in mind to never lose out on your opportunity to receive your visa approved on the very first go.  Again, you wish to sell yourself as a wise and competent professional to boost your likelihood of obtaining a visa.

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| Any other relevant documents to the job or private life like Marriage certificate will be helpful.  Thus you have to locate a job within 6 months of arrival.  No appointment is needed.

Both the online and offline application provides a wide selection of payment mode choices.  Most significantly you will receive back every original document you've sent as a portion of your application, is clearly mentioned on the official website.  If you are now holding or are planning to apply to get a Subclass 457 visa, and want to include your partner as a secondary applicant the next information will help in ensuring you satisfy the secondary application requirements.

So as to process the program, the applicant has to pay the visa fee that's based on several aspects.  If you made a request over three days before, you must check certain points to understand the status of your file.  The option of submitting a web-based application is dependent on the fact whether you live inside or outside the united kingdom.

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Indian e-Tourist Visa on the internet is readily available for Nationals of 162 nations around the world.  To begin with, you have to be a citizen of a nation that has a valid trade and maritame agreement with the United States.   You have to be able to show your relationship with your own nation.

Bahrain Visa Options For example If you take a visa, you will need to check what kind of a visa is the most right for your trip, what sort of documents you need so as to apply for Germany visa.  It might be possible to acquire your visa upon arrival.  It's very difficult to find a Visit Visa for Canada if you're applying from Pakistan.

Because starting on February 1st, foreigners of Chinese descent will be in a position to apply to get a 5-year visa with numerous entries.  The next thing to do is to finish the DS-160 Form.  The exact first obvious step was supposed to work out the right kind of visa to receive there.

| Upon finishing the course many students look to acquire a two year post study work visa, which permits them to work in the nation.  The offer letters may also help but aren't required per say and can't be replaced for experience letters.  Upon acceptance in their pick of course, the health cover should be paid.

The next thing which you will have to do is to receive a visa which allows you to enter China and has the ability to convert to a resident permit.  It's totally worth when you get the visa and move to Germany.   You can't submit an application for a 5-year visa by post.

Because starting on February 1st, foreigners of Chinese descent will be in a position to apply to get a 5-year visa with numerous entries.  The most frequently encountered visa refusal is below the section 221-g.  A long-term tourist visa will permit you to have a visa to enter India between 1 and 5 years with many re-entries.

[scottydd]

>

> #The great Brexit blame game

>

> **Bosses and ministers are already trading recriminations as a chaotic split looms**

>

> John Collingridge and Jill Treanor

>

> Sunday October 18 2020, 12.01am BST, The Sunday Times

>

>

> * 74: Days left to reach a deal with Brussels before the UK leaves the EU

>

> * 7,000: Number of lorries that could queue in Kent to cross the Channel in the worst-case scenario

>

> * 50,000: Customs agents that will be needed to process paperwork

>

> For the past four years, Rob Hollyman has been trying to work out what Brexit will mean for haulage firms such as his that cross the Channel daily. With 74 days until the end of the transition period, Hollyman, a director of Essex-based Youngs Transportation and Logistics, is still unsure.

>

> A 40-year industry veteran, he has attended seminars, phoned government departments, scoured the internet and even tweeted at ministers, including Michael Gove, in an effort to understand the practicalities of moving goods across the border with the EU from next year.

>

> “We don’t know what permits we are going to need,” said Hollyman, who runs a fleet of about 120 lorries. “You get these know-nothings [in government] who say, ‘You’ve got to get yourself prepared.’ How on earth do you prepare for something when you can’t find out what you need to prepare for? How can I get my vehicles ready to go over the water when I don’t know what documents are needed?”

>

> Youngs is one of thousands of companies facing with trepidation the end of decades of seamless trading with the EU on January 1. Four years of negotiations, planning and investment in new systems are about to be put to the test — in the middle of the deepest economic crisis for decades. Hopes that it will be a painless transition, thanks to a deal that former international trade secretary Liam Fox claimed would be “one of the easiest in human history”, are evaporating fast.

>

> The latest round of talks ended in acrimony last week. It remains unclear on what terms Britain will soon trade with its biggest partner — and whether it is too late to avoid chaos. Now, with the potential for disruption growing as the clock runs down, recriminations are flying.

>

> Since the summer, the government has been trying to encourage businesses to prepare for the end of the transition period, plastering billboards and taking out ads asking: “Is your business ready for the UK’s new start?” That has been distilled into a simple message: “Check, change, go”. Many companies complain the simplicity is a far cry from the reality.

>

> A change of tone has been noted in the government’s messaging in recent weeks, which some bosses believe is an attempt to pin the blame on “unprepared” businesses. “It’s all about the blame game,” said a chief executive. Last month, a leaked letter from Gove, who is responsible for Brexit planning, warned of queues of up to 7,000 lorries at Dover in a worst-case scenario. Gove told MPs that the government had surveyed businesses and found that 43% believed the transition period would be extended, granting them continued access to the single market, and that only 24% believed they were fully ready. “The consequences of a lack of business preparedness will be not just economic opportunities missed for those companies that don’t prepare, but potentially much wider disruption,” said Gove.

>

> Businesses, ravaged by Covid-19, today called for a deal. “Now is the time for historic political leadership,” said the Confederation of British Industry and 71 professional bodies in a joint statement.

>

> Last week, the blame game escalated when Treasury and Cabinet Office minister Lord Agnew accused businesses of taking a “head-in-the-sand approach”. “The traders are not as ready as they should be,” he said, adding that they “really must engage in a more energetic way”. His comments to the Treasury select committee reflected a growing fear that, even if a last-minute deal is struck, the economy is not ready for the changes about to hit it. Gove is among leading voices in the cabinet warning of the perils of an abrupt end to trading with the EU if no deal is struck, which would result in World Trade Organisation tariffs.

>

> Nowhere are those perils more evident than in Kent, where officials plan to install portable toilets along the M20 leading to Dover in anticipation of a queue of vehicles: 1,000 lorries, each nearly 60ft long, would stretch 11 miles.

>

> The reams of paperwork from customs declarations mean that about 50,000 customs agents — who would be hired by businesses to fill in forms — are needed. But the government has refused to say how many have been recruited. A 66-acre car park is being built alongside the M20 in Ashford to handle the overflow of up to 1,700 lorries. A new border will be created for international hauliers hoping to travel through Kent to Dover, with a “Kent access permit” needed to enter. Those without one face a £300 fine.

>

> Richard Burnett, chief executive of the Road Haulage Association, said it had been warning of the need for more customs agents for more than 18 months. The government finally published a “border operating model” — a guide to how the border will work — in July, but Burnett said “while it tells you what to do, it doesn’t tell you how to do it”.

>

> “Having lived and breathed the past four years, it’s been a shambles,” he said. “We’ve been asking the same questions — it’s groundhog day. Our industry does nothing but work hard to keep things moving. We have not got time to ensure people are trained from a customs perspective, and have not got sufficient customs agents to absorb the demand. If you can’t find a customs agent and try to send your truck without the appropriate paperwork, it will get turned around in Kent or Calais.”

>

> Myriad issues remain unresolved elsewhere. Car-makers, which rely on the just-in-time supply of millions of parts delivered by lorries, could see production lines grind to a halt if parts are caught in traffic jams at the border — a possibility even if a deal is struck.

>

> BMW’s Mini factory at Cowley, Oxford, receives about 120 lorries a day from the EU, containing some of the three million parts it uses daily. Jaguar Land Rover, Britain’s biggest car-maker with factories across the Midlands, uses up to 25 million parts a day in the UK, up to half of which come from abroad.

>

> That makes stockpiling beyond a couple of days impossible. According to Honda in Swindon, nine days of stock would require a warehouse of 300,000 square metres — which would make it one of the biggest buildings on the planet.

>

> WTO terms mean tariffs of 10% will be imposed on cars sold to Europe, or tariffs of 4.5% applied on the parts they import from the Continent.

>

> Another hideously complex issue about which car bosses have been warning for almost four years is “rules of origin” — determining where a car’s parts come from. Typically, Europe demands that at least 60% of a car by value must originate from the EU and the new trading partner to qualify for tariff-free trade.

>

> Even if there is a deal to keep tariffs at zero, car-makers are still likely to have to prove that 60% of their parts, which may have crossed multiple borders, originate from the UK and EU. That leaves Britain’s car factories with a huge headache, especially when it comes to electric vehicles: many of their parts, such as batteries and motors, are imported from Japan and elsewhere in Asia. The BBC reported that the car industry had asked for parts from Japan and Turkey to be treated as British in a trade deal — a plea that was rejected.

>

> Mike Hawes, chief executive of the Society of Motor Manufacturers and Traders (SMMT), said Brexit had “always been about damage limitation” for the car industry. “The sector has been preparing for it since 2016, yet even now we remain hampered by a lack of clarity on the exact nature of our future trading relationship with Europe,” he said.

>

> “The prospect of trading on WTO terms in 74 days is still very real and no amount of preparation could mitigate the catastrophic impact this will have on the sector — a fact about which we have been warning the government for years.”

>

> Whole chunks of the economy are on tenterhooks over the shape of any deal. An agreement on data adequacy — which could affect bank transfers and selling and buying online — hinges on the trade deal. The UK is quitting the European Union Aviation Safety Agency (EASA), meaning the UK’s Civil Aviation Authority will become responsible for certifying plane parts — and convincing other nations that its standards match EASA’s. Without that mutual reassurance, aerospace manufacturing could be at risk.

>

> Northern Ireland and its access to goods — particularly food — is another big problem. The government has spent £200m helping companies with the bureaucracy of shipping goods from Britain to Northern Ireland. But food manufacturers that ship across the Irish Sea, faced with the cost and bureaucracy of having to fill out hundreds of customs declarations for every lorry, are considering retreating from Northern Ireland, at least for the first few months of 2021. Businesses shipping to Northern Ireland will face a huge amount of paperwork, from customs declarations to export health certificates on meat.

>

> Stephen Phipson, chief executive of manufacturers’ trade body Make UK, said: “Because businesses are engulfed in surviving the pandemic, they are assuming that if the prime minister sticks to his commitments and does a deal, there’s nothing to do. Actually, there are so many changes, even with a deal.”

>

> In the City, “passporting” — the system the UK relied on when it was part of the 28-nation bloc that allows businesses to conduct financial services seamlessly across borders — is coming to an end. Now the focus is on “equivalence”, which allows trading across borders but is not so comprehensive.

>

> ^^Part ^^2

> Rachel Kent, head of financial services regulation at law firm Hogan Lovells, said financial companies doing significant business in the EU had been forced to set up subsidiaries on the Continent. “For some the cost is too great, and they will have no option but to terminate their client arrangements,” she said.

>

> Clients of UK-based banks need new documentation so they can keep dealing with EU entities. Processing payments — such as direct debits — has also required changes. Ignoring the changes and continuing to trade on current terms could result in criminal charges.

>

> Josh Hardie, CBI deputy director general, said: “Businesses are trying to prepare but they face huge barriers, whether that is the impact of the virus or whether it is clarity about what they are preparing for. The single biggest way of accelerating preparation is to get a deal.”

>

[fairyprance]

The Letter - Part 3

Read the Letter - Part 2: http://fairyprance.tumblr.com/post/166607935154/the-letter-part-2

I’m back - sorry to keep you waiting. 

_____________________________________________________________

Lucy had awoken the next morning. She did not sleep well, and it was all because of her now almost destined future. She couldn’t stop thinking about marrying that horrid little monster, her starting a new life with a strange man. She did not want it, did not like it. She wanted to be her own person, live the life she wanted to live. She knew from a very young age that the life of a wealthy person was not the best life, contrary to popular belief. Many of the children from wealthy families were married off to continue or open business opportunities. She knew from a young age that that person might be her, she might be the unlucky woman to be wed in a tasteless marriage. She thought she had run away from that but that was not the case.

She felt like a robot going through her mindless routine. She hadn’t felt this bad since the time Fairy Tail had gotten disbanded. She needed to stay focused on the problem at hand, and she was doing just that. She was going to go to pick up the weekly newspaper and do some research on a few of the lawyers and contracts today. She left her house and had soon reached the library. She was very familiar with the route as she was accustomed coming this way with Levy. She smiled at the thought of Levy’s children becoming bookworms too. She was excited for Levy, and giggled at the idea of Levy dragging Gajeel and her children to the library for some family time, which Lucy knew would most likely happen.

Lucy was a bit envious of the couples in the guild and how well they were progressing. Then her thoughts had landed to Natsu. Lucy was not going to deny her feelings, or shake the idea off because she knew that would not help. She did have feelings for Natsu, even if they were not quite distinguishable to her. In fact, Lucy thought she didn’t do a good enough of a job hiding her feelings, as everyone in the guild had speculated something or the other between the two. Lucy for the longest time tried to bury away any feelings she might have had for the pink haired boy, but when Natsu would lean in next to her, or would brush by her, or would protect her she would feel something odd, something she hadn’t felt in the presence of anyone else before. She had a few odd years of having felt those feelings to come to an understanding that she did not think of Natsu as just a friend. Lucy was confused by the notion though, as she thought Natsu was far from her type.  He was loud, and not very well mannered. He was impulsive and did not think many things through. She smiled, but he was thoughtful, and he was a great listener. He was protective, and he made her laugh. She knew he was trustworthy and loyal, and would make a great partner to a lucky girl.

She had given him many opportunities for him to show her he had thought of their relationship as something more than just friendship, but nothing had ever happened. She had come to the conclusion that he was not interested, and that Lucy was not Natsu’s type of girl. She was a little bit sad at the fact, but she had time to accept the thought. She was still young, and didn’t even know if she could make the rent next month, how did she have the time to think of boys? The thought was ironic, as there was one certain boy intruding in her thoughts at the moment in such a horrid way.

She pulled the arms of the heavy doors and walked into the large library. She looked around the bookshelves and started picking up any legal books on anything that could help her. With a newspaper tucked under one arm and a stack of books in the other, she was ready to start her research.

Lucy had thought that legal subjects were boring, and making her way through those books was absolute hell. She needed to stay on track however, so she forced herself to zero in on the material….

“Gah!” Lucy huffed. She was quite frustrated. She had spent hours in the library trying to find any loophole to the contract. There were no signs of one.

She had to leave now though, as the Library was soon closing. She managed a few phone calls to some well-known lawyers, but not many would give her any advice. She was fully aware however, of their high prices. She walked home dejectedly.

----

Lucy woke up early the next morning as she was on her way to the library again. She was determined to not let her motivation falter. She was going to find out how to get around this stupid stubborn contract.

She was preparing herself mentally for a day of quiet and studying, but was stopped on her tracks by an eager Natsu outside her apartment. She felt like she was caught red handed, and immediately felt guilty sneaking behind him, but she had no other choice.

“I found us a great job Lucy!” Natsu said, waving a paper about. “We just have to supervise some businessmen on their daily routes today. Easy money!”

“More money, more fish!” Happy gleefully agreed from behind Natsu.

She looked over at Natsu and then to the job paper and then to Happy. It was true she needed the money, and it did seem like an easy job, but she knew that she was not going to be attentive to the mission if she was going to be thinking about the letter the whole way through. She also needed to meet with one of her father’s lawyers who agreed to meet her on the phone yesterday after her study session today. She couldn’t go on this job with her team and it pained her to reject Natsu’s offer, especially without a good enough reason.

“Natsu, I have an appointment today and can’t go out. I’m sorry.” She told him hurriedly, His eager face quickly became disappointed. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at her, but shrugged it off. “Okay Lucy, I guess Happy and I can do this one together then.”

Happy responded with a rather unhappy “Aye.”

She nodded at the pink haired boy, obviously feeling extremely horrible about not giving him a proper explanation. She needed to keep her resolve though, and watched Natsu walk away.

She clutched her backpack straps, this was giving her the motivation she needed to get this handled with quickly. The quicker she got through this, the quicker things would go back to normal.

---

“I’m sorry Lucy, but this seems binding,” the lawyer who agreed to see her at a minimal charge told her. “Just like I told your father, once signed, a contract like this could only be broken by death.” He said to her.

It was like Lucy’s ears stopped working. She heard the pounding of her blood and could see the Lawyer’s mouth moving but Lucy could not pick up on whatever he was saying after that. Immediately a vision of Lucy’s life flashed in front of her eyes. She could see herself walk down the aisle, sadness instead of happiness following her big day. She could see the chubby pervert waiting for her anxiously by the officiator. She could see herself restrained by another castle for the rest of her life. No more Fairy Tail.

No more Fairy Tail.

No more Natsu, Happy, Levy, Gray, Erza, Juvia, Wendy, Gajeel, Master Makarov, Mira, and her many other friends.

She bit her lip, she was forcing herself not to cry in this unfamiliar office with an unfamiliar man.

What if she ran away, left Magnolia. She wouldn’t be actively a part of Fairy Tail, but at least she could go on far enough missions, and still see her friends. Maybe, just maybe there was still hope. She zoned back on to the Lawyer, and his words again, trying her best to keep up.

“I know what you're thinking,” the lawyer said to her. “I wouldn’t advise you to run away Lucy. This is the Prince Sawalu of Juvenelle, I’m sorry,” he corrected. “He is now the King Sawalu of Juvenelle we are talking about. He has an immense amount of power, he can have you scouted out in an instant. It looks to me like he has been giving you some time before the affair of marriage. This letter,” he said looking at the letter Lucy had brought, “looks to me like he is making himself known. He is looking from action on your part Lucy and if you ignore him, it’s just going to make him more riled up, it might even mean he brings you in by unnecessary means.”

He looked over to Lucy and breathed in. “Look Lucy, he must really be fixed on you, as he hasn’t taken a wife for nine years. He is going to find you, it’s just a matter of time. My advice to you is to take the King as your husband. He is powerful, and can give you a happy life, without you wanting or needing for anything. You could be in far worse scenarios.”

Lucy looked at the lawyer and over to his name plate. Mr. Haddison.

Mr. Haddison was the name of the man who had just told her what she had been dreading to hear since she had received the letter.

She clenched her backpack, which lay in her lap and just lost it.

Her sobs were loud, and booming. Her wailing something that shocked even her. She was trying so hard to hold herself together these couple of days, but this had just ruined her hope. No, it burned her hope to ashes. Lucy took the tissues that were offered to her and once she had cried so much she thought that no more tears would come, she got herself together. She was embarrassed she let herself go in front of a complete stranger.

Lucy cleared her throat, “How long do I have?” she asked, her voice groggy.

She knew Mr. Haddison knew exactly what she was talking about.

He looked over at the contract. “It could be a couple of months, or it could be a couple of days.”

She bit her lip to refrain from crying again. Her life was over. Completely over. She was going to become a mindless wife, obedient only to her husband. Goodbye was her wonderful adventurous life with Fairy Tail and her friends. She was definitely going to have to explain this to her friends, and say good bye as soon as she can. Tears started streaming down her face, and she quickly wiped them off. This was it. The end of Lucy Heartfilia, and the beginning of Ms. Sawalu.

She grabbed her things and started outside. “Thank you,” she told the lawyer, even though she was not thankful at all.

“Anything, Ms. Heartfillia.”

Lucy left the building, relying on muscle memory to get herself home. She willed herself not to cry in public. She was anxious, shocked, depressed and a bit in awe that one letter could turn her entire life upside down.

---

Mr. Haddison watched as Lucy Heartfillia left his office. She was a beautiful girl, and he thought it was a shame to waste her on the King of Sawalu, but nonetheless he lifted the communication Lacryma atop his desk.

“Yes, this is Haddison. Yes. Lucy Heartfillia has just exited my office. She still has some fight in her. Seems to me, she might not be easy to capture after all. I recommend bringing your strongest men.”

-------

Read The Letter - Part 4 http://fairyprance.tumblr.com/post/168260633039/the-letter-part-4

[doktorcrimson]

I still can’t believe I fucking got into med school

In my previous post I mentioned I got accepted into medical school, and damn I still can’t believe that happened (  ��Дﾟ)

DOKTOR CRIMSON IS ACTUALLY GONNA BE DOCTOR CRIMSON WAT

I was looking at American Association of Medical Colleges (AAMC) data sheets earlier and HOLY COW I can’t believe how lucky I am to even be offered an acceptance! Not to mention that I got into one of my top choices, a wonderful school with excellent academic programs and diverse patient populations. I am truly grateful to be in this position and so proud of myself...

FUCK YEAH DOCTOR CRIMSON!

Keep reading if you don’t mind me rambling.

Just to give a rough idea how competitive MD programs are in the US. There are roughly 150 accredited MD schools total. Usually a school receives a few thousand applications per year. Some schools may receive 10k+. Schools only accept enough to fill a class of about 100 students (some schools accept more, some schools accept less). That means the average acceptance rate for med school is about 5%. If you compare this to applying to college, you are literally applying to Harvard everywhere.... Out of 53042 applicants total in the US, only 21030 get accepted somewhere. That means 60% of applicants don’t get in anywhere every year, and that’s quite scary.

I had no fucking idea if I would get in or not. Like many have said, this process is literally a crapshoot (;o;)

The school I will be attending this fall had about 8k+ applications total. They only accept enough to fill a class of roughly less than 200 students. That’s a little more than 2% of all applicants for this school....

HOW THE FUCK DID I BECOME THE 2%??? Like I checked the facebook page for my class and I saw people who went to college at Harvard, UPenn, Princeton etc.?

I guess hard work does pay off and I’m not too dumb haha (ﾟ∀ﾟﾉ)ﾉ

So lemme talk about my application process last year. There’s a forum called Student Doctor Network (SDN) that I usually go to for resources applying to med school. People who post there are typically higher achievers compared to average applicants. When I was on the waitlist, seeing people getting multiple acceptances and even having the luxury to decide between school A vs. B really got me at the low point. 

I submitted 26-27 primaries back in July but ended up only being complete at 23 schools due to budget. Unlike some superstar applicants I didn’t get an early interview in August/September nor did I get an outright acceptance mid-October. My first interview came from my state school in October and I got my second interview in November. Normally my state school would be my best bet in getting into medical school since they have an in-state preference. However, my state school interview resulted in a rejection right before my second interview (like the decision was made literally a week before). 

I cried like an idiot that day and the following day. I didn’t want to tell anyone and I thought getting into med school was over for me. I got rejected by my state school, the school with the highest probability of being accepted at all. How am I supposed to get in a school that is ranked much better and more competitive than my state school? Honestly, I fucked up that interview myself and I knew what I did wrong (I regretted it right after I did it). I walked out of that interview feeling rather miserable and uncertain. Also part of it was because I was inexperienced and probably should’ve prepared more for my first interview. But still, it hurt, and it hurt a lot. Even today whenever I think about it, it’ll always an opportunity I missed. If I did get accepted to my state school, things would be very different right now.

I was lost. I finally decided to tell only one person, my good senpai and friend, who also happened to be an MD-PhD student. He told me to do a mock interview if possible. So I did it, got some feedback. Didn’t feel like I’ve improved much but more practice is always better. I went to my second interview with a much-relaxed attitude. My second interview was at the school that eventually accepted me and was the 2nd or 3rd school I wanted to go to out of my top choices (my #1 choice rejected me pre-interview haha). It felt really different than my first interview. I actually liked the school better despite I didn’t know anyone in the area nor did I have many ties to the school. I could tell my conversation between me and my interviewer was much better than my first interview. He even asked me about my art and con experiences, which probably had some influence in getting me an acceptance. I drew him a little sketch doodle with a person sitting in a coffee mug at the end of my interview. I walked out feeling confident, and the rest of the interviews I attended never gave me that same feeling.  

It then became a long wait until February when I finally received more interviews. But then again it was late in the cycle, I didn’t have much hope getting into those schools. I was placed on the supposedly high priority waitlist from the 2nd school I interviewed at the same month. After attending those other interviews, I knew the 2nd school, one of my top choices out of all schools, would be my best bet getting in at that point. With the help of a friend editing, I submitted an update letter within the same day I received the wait list status.

It was then another long wait. After May 1st med school traffic day, I was anxiously waiting for waitlist movements. A batch of waitlist acceptances had gone out the first week for the 2nd school I interviewed at. If I couldn’t get in somewhere during May, I would have to prepare for another application cycle. I was also looking for a new job at the same time since my current job didn’t pay much, let alone the fact I needed more money if I had to go through this application process again. I was extremely stressed. Other schools I interviewed at also threw me on their waitlists. My relationship with my family wasn’t great at that point either. I wanted to give up so much. I kept thinking: what did I do wrong this cycle? My GPA and MCAT definitely weren’t the factors keeping me out of med school. I had a good amount of clinical experience and research. My other extracurriculars weren’t extraordinary, but it did have some uniqueness. I guess it was it my interview? I mean, I’m not the most talkative person but I think I’m alright in small conversations. I admit I’m rather low energy compared to even a lot of other introverts, but how would I improve that next time? Should I just give up?

I was ready to meet with my pre-med advisor that Saturday morning for a new committee letter. I decided to check my email once more before I left the door.

HOLY GOD OF CHEESECAKES I DON’T HAVE TO APPLY AGAIN ANYMORE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHA

And that’s my med school application year in a summary.

Big hugs and gross smooches to @theathelier~ I literally would’ve never made it to med school without your essay edits and emotional support! You know how upset I was those months before May. I tend to not show it in front of others but deep inside I was struggling very hard. I had some really negative thoughts at some point (really negative thoughts) but I keep thinking about you and other friends who have shown me support (yes, thank you @phoodledoodles for starting a med school specifically for me with a 1:1 student to faculty ratio and guaranteed nap time every day if I didn’t get in). I would’ve felt so guilty if I didn’t get in this cycle because all the effort you put in reading my essays QAQ Love you and I will make my best attempt to visit! *we still need to go to that pho place together*

@phoodledoodles @aeryecho I love you both, too <3

I’d like to mention @shinionlydrawsfreestyle for being my secret role model during my application cycle haha *senpai plz notice me face* I actually remember you on SDN from last application cycle (along with bananafish haha), I never expected to find your tumblr page. At first I felt yeah I’m probably the only weeb trash artist that does cons and digital art as a hobby while pursuing a main career that’s not even remotely related. And then I was searching “reviews for acrylic charms” and I found your blog and I read your bio that you said you were a med student and I went HOLY CRAP I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE. 

Congrats on finishing MS1 and good luck next year studying step 1, senpai!

Ah if my secondaries were like this post I would’ve never gotten in med school :P Thanks for reading if you got this far.

Love and Peace~

[ranwing]

Kadam Fic: Just Breathe (10/?)

Title: Just Breathe Series: Season Four Remix Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Camen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Blaine Anderson, Sam Evans, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters Rating: PG13 (Rating may change) Genre(s): canon divergence, major lol Klaine and Blaine. Parts: 10/?

Summary: Auditions mean new challenges for Kurt and those around him, forcing him to face both his past and his future.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

On AO3

Rachel arrived at NYADA early on Monday morning for her scheduled meeting with Madam Tibideaux. It had been a stressful weekend and she was painfully aware that her behavior wasn’t her best. It had been painful to see Kurt leave on Saturday for his photo shoot and she hadn’t been a very good friend by hiding away, expressing little real interest in his show when she should have been cheering him on. He seemed to understand and didn’t press her, but she could see that it bothered him and the tension between them remained until he decided to spend the night at Adam’s place.

She hated that she couldn’t find it in herself to be happy for Kurt. He more than deserved his professional opportunity and she felt awful that all weekend she could only think about him starting preparations for his first big role while she was sitting at home and feeling sorry for herself. It felt so strange to have their situations reversed so profoundly.

Rachel knew that it was childish and more than a little embarrassing, but she was having a tremendous difficulty in accepting that she was the one not being the one doing well. She was supposed to be an adult but seeing Kurt get what she wanted, both a happy and solid relationship and a professional job in the near future while she was struggling was more difficult than she ever would have believed. Mostly because she never thought that she would be in this position. She felt very much in limbo and was more than a little ashamed to admit that she would rather their situations be reversed. Or at least that they were both happy and optimistic.

And she hated that she felt like this. Kurt was her friend and he seemed happier and more secure than she ever could remember. He more than deserved her support, if only for all of the support that he’d given her over the past few years. It was demoralizing that she couldn’t bring herself to feel unvarnished happiness for his success and could only dwell upon herself. She really was a terrible friend.

It was almost a relief when the school week started and she had something to distract herself with. Not that she was looking forward to this meeting but knew that she had no choice but to attend. Her teacher could be brutally harsh with her criticism and Rachel didn’t think she had the strength to handle that level of blunt judgment. If she was being totally honest with herself, she could own up to the fact that she had been falling short at school lately. She had devoted so much of her focus to the Funny Girl audition that school had admittedly fallen to a distant second in her considerations. Now she didn’t have Funny Girl and her position at NYADA was more tenuous than she wanted to acknowledge. Fixing this would not be easy and she wasn’t sure if it would be worth the effort.

When Madam Tibideaux’s secretary advised that the Dean was ready for her, Rachel took a steadying breath and tried to set her face into a calm expression. Kurt had warned her to expect a proper and thorough critique and to try to be more receptive than she usually was to criticism, but she knew that Madam Tibideaux would be using the opportunity to rip her apart. Her teacher had been far less Rachel’s supporter now than she had been when Rachel first arrived at NYADA.

When she stepped into the office, her teacher was seated at her desk signing a pile of documents in front of her. “Good morning, Ms. Berry. I’ll be with you in just a moment,” she proclaimed as she added her signature to one of the many sheets of paper awaiting her attention. “Please have a seat.”

Rachel sat in one of the office chairs facing her desk and waited patiently for the Dean to finish with what she was working on. The older woman picked up a stack that she had completed and called out for her secretary.

“Please make copies of these for their files and double-check them against the list before they go out,” she instructed. “I’ll finish the last of them after my meeting. They need to be in the mail by the end of the day today.”

“Of course,” the younger woman said agreeably as she took the paperwork away and closed the door behind her. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

Rachel watched her walk out. “Were those the acceptance letters?” she asked curiously.

“And the rejections,” Madam Tibideaux confirmed. “It certainly took me long enough to make my final decisions. Some of them weren’t easy. There are a lot of exceptionally talented young people who are going to be very disappointed. It’s one of the reasons that I insist on personally signing every letter myself.”

“You do?” Rachel tried to think back to her own letter, but didn’t remember very much of it beyond her excitement at seeing that against all expectations she made it in.

Madam Tibideaux nodded. “I might very well be deciding the careers of these applicants, and ending someone’s hopes. It’s a tremendous responsibility and the very least that I could do is take ownership of that responsibility with my own signature.”

That was not something that Rachel would have thought the Dean capable of being concerned over. She was normally so imperious, looking down upon the students as beneath her concern and quick with a cutting remark. Rachel wouldn’t have expected her to show so much caring to the hopes and dreams that she was very well crushing with those carefully worded rejection letters.

The Dean acknowledged her with an appreciative nod and then turned her attention to her student once they were alone. “Well, let’s get started,” she determined as she opened up the video file of Rachel’s showcase performance. “You certainly gave me a lot to think about with this performance.”

Rachel swallowed tightly, not sure if that was necessarily a good thing or not.

The video played for a few minutes and Rachel watched herself. It seemed like a pretty good performance from her perspective, but she knew that Madam Tibideaux would be looking for anything to be critical of.

“For the first half, your performance was more of less what I’ve come to expect from you the past few weeks,” the teacher said judgmentally. “Your chief strength has always been your technical soundness, and this was no exception. Your voice and enunciation were clear and straightforward. This was more or less what I expected of you from the fall semester.”

Well, that didn’t sound too bad, Rachel considered. “Thank you, Madam,” she said carefully.

Madam Tibideaux gave her a disapproving stare. “That wasn’t intended to be a compliment,” she said tersely. “We’re just a few weeks away from the end of the spring semester and I haven’t seen any significant growth in your performance ability since you sang at the Winter Showcase. While your technique was strong, the execution was rather pedestrian. And something of a disappointment to me.”

She sat back in her seat, picking up her pen and tapping it thoughtfully as she appraised the student sitting before her, a bemused expression on her normally impassive features.

“You still have the habit of remaining stationary during a performance. We gave you a full stage with a set to utilize and you pretty much remained rooted to the spot. I was hoping to see a more dynamic performance out of you at this point, but you always seem more focused on each note being perfect than actually considering all the other aspects of your performance.”

Madam Tibideaux glanced at the screen of her computer, watching another few seconds of the performance. “What I’m not seeing here is any real sign of growth from you. Not in several months. You’re no better a performer now than you were when you first came to NYADA, so it is a bit vexing that you seem to have lost interest in developing your talents any further than you already have.”

Rachel felt each word like a blow to the gut, her august teacher being brutally critical of the one thing that Rachel had thought was beyond criticism. “Madam Tibideaux, it’s not like that,” she insisted. “I do work at it and I was sure that my singing ability is growing.”

“Well, you’ll have to forgive me but I’m not seeing it,” the Dean insisted flatly, her mouth drawn into a firm line. “But let’s finish your appraisal, because it wasn’t totally without some value.”

That small statement that her teacher had found something positive to comment on gave Rachel a desperate hope that she wouldn’t be completely eviscerated.

Madam Tibideaux resumed the video. “Once we got past the first half of your performance became a bit more vibrant. Something rather interesting happened at this point.”

Rachel watched the video, trying to see what her teacher had noted. She shook her head in confusion. “I’m sorry, Madam. But I don’t…”

There was a quiet smile on the older woman’s face. “I’m curious to what you were thinking of at that instant, because that was the first flash of genuine emotion that I’ve seen in any of your vocal performances in weeks. You normally are so focused on technique that the emotional component of your songs comes across as affected and insincere. This though… this was different.

“Now granted, it’s obvious that you’re not playing Roxy Hart there,” Madam Tibideaux mused. “And it does highlight an inherent weakness in your performance style that I’ve pointed out before. Whenever you’re playing a role, you have difficulty in translating sincere emotion and use a lot of emoting tricks to try to cover up that fact. But here is where you get more sincere and more genuine that I’ve seen out of you in some time.”

She turned off the video and gave her student a piercing stare. “Something in that song hit a chord in you, and I’m rather curious what you were thinking about during your performance.”

Rachel felt her cheeks heating at the realization that she had been that transparent. She hadn’t expected her teacher to catch the connection that Rachel found in the material, nor had she expected it to come out so profoundly in her performance.

“I..,” she stammered, trying to get her thoughts in line. “It… I was thinking about my ex. Things ended badly between us and…” Her voice trailed off, embarrassed at how trite that sounded, even to her.

Madam Tibideaux made no comment about Rachel’s relationship woes, cocking her head thoughtfully. “Most artists use their personal experiences, good and bad, to lend emotional authenticity to their performances. It’s a skill that takes practice so that the character remains true while you use your own experiences to give the performance impact. Clearly that’s something that’s not in your wheelhouse since there is a very marked difference to where you were trying to play Roxy and when you were just yourself.

“But as I said, that part was probably the most genuine performance I’ve seen from you in some time. Which makes doing this evaluation very difficult,” she mused. “I get the sense that there was a certain lack of preparation, which would explain the unevenness of your performance. It did appear that you were winging it, so to speak, and got lost somewhere in the middle when it became more about whatever you were mentally working through and not the character. Am I correct about that?”

Rachel felt herself nodding, knowing that she couldn’t deny what her teacher was accusing her of. She knew that she hadn’t prepared as well as she should have because she had been so focused on her callback and it showed.

Madam Tibideaux’s stare became more piercing. “Do you want to explain why you felt that it wasn’t necessary prepare properly when you had this opportunity to represent your school?” she demanded, not bothering to temper the sharpness in her voice.

Rachel never liked being reprimanded, even when she knew that it was deserved, and she knew that her teacher would not find her answer a satisfactory excuse. “I had my callback audition to prepare for and it just ended up not having the time to really practice. I’m sorry… I know that’s not an excuse, but…”

“No, it’s not,” Madam Tibideaux agreed, not hiding her displeasure. “I have to admit that I’m very disappointed, Ms. Berry. But not entirely surprised. You’ve been distracted for some time and it’s been noticed that your focus has not been on school for some weeks now. And not just by me. That makes me ask some very hard questions about how invested you are in your education here.”

“Madam Tibideaux, I do want to be here,” Rachel protested. “You saw what I was willing to go through in order to get admitted.”

The older woman nodded. “Yes, you did express your desire in a most emphatic manner. Which is why seeing you slacking off like this is so disappointing. I would have expected you to be much more invested than you’ve shown of late.

“This performance highlights your greatest strength and your greatest weaknesses. As a singer you are an amazingly strong technician. And you are driven and ambitious. Those are both important qualities. But artistically you have a lot of serious deficits that I’m just not seeing improvement on. You have a difficult time with criticism and I’m not seeing you putting in any real effort to evolve as a performer. The Winter Showcase seems to be the high point of your development and it’s been a slow decline since.”

Madam TIbideaux considered the video a bit more, her mouth drawn into a perplexed frown. “From my perspective, it looks like you’ve lost interest at being here. You’re not looking to become a stronger performer because in your mind you apparently no longer need improvement. That’s become very evident in the way you’ve treated your education here. As the person who personally granted your admission, that is monumentally disappointing. Not just because you’re not taking advantage of what NYADA has to offer you but because you took a slot from someone else that might have been more invested in their education here.”

Rachel felt her eyes start to sting with the strain of holding back her tears. Madam Tibideaux’s censure came through loud and clear despite her carefully selected words. She thought that Rachel no longer deserved her spot at NYADA, and may not have deserved it from the start. She felt her stomach tighten painfully and it took every iota of control she could salvage to avoid running out of the office in tears.

“Madam Tibideaux, I assure you that I want to be here,” she insisted. “I need to be here.”

“Why?” her impassive teacher asked, fixing Rachel in her seat with her sharp stare. “Are you here because you want to be the best performer you can become or because you think that having NYADA on your CV will instantly launch your career?”

Rachel blinked back tears. Kurt had asked her that very same question and she had disregarded it at the time because she had been so certain that she would get Fanny. If she was totally honest with herself, NYADA only had renewed importance now that her dream role was out of her grasp.

“You are very much on the bubble,” Madam Tibideaux warned. “There are always a few students with each incoming class that don’t survive their first year, and I wouldn’t have thought you would be one in danger of washing out. But here we are.”

She appraised her student thoughtfully, tapping her pen as she considered her options carefully. “I’m not quite sure where to go with you, Ms. Berry,” she said with deliberation. “You really could go either way and I’m not certain if you warrant a further opportunity or investment on this institution’s part. It’s frustrating at how little it took to distract you from your studies and your lack of worth ethic makes me question your devotion to developing you craft.”

“Madam Tibideaux, I can assure you that I am hard working,” Rachel insisted, alarmed at the direction that their meeting had taken. “I’ve devoted my life to being the performer that I am. There is no one that will work harder…”

Her teacher’s frown didn’t soften in the least. “I’m sure you think you have,” she granted. “What I see from my observations of you is that you’ll work on things that already are easy for you or where you get quick acknowledgement. I’ve been advised by your dance teacher that you are on the verge of failing. You acting professor is hardly impressed with your work and you are at best a middling student in your technical classes. The one area where you did seem enthusiastic about your studies was your voice class and even there, you’ve been showing a lack of interest beyond having a place to show off what we already know you can do.

“Now, do you want to know what I think?” Madam Tibideaux asked. “I think that the instant that this part that you were seeking became even a remote option, you felt that NYADA had served its purpose.”

Rachel couldn’t argue with that, and it began to come clear that she was perilously in danger of being cut from NYADA.

“Madam TIbideaux…”

“If you had consulted your academic advisor, or even myself, we would have told you that you’re not nearly ready for a major professional role,” the Dean advised her firmly. “Being in a professional production isn’t just about showcasing yourself. It’s a tremendous responsibility, and you are in no way prepared to handle all that it entails either as a performer or a person. We want our students to succeed and we want to guide you properly so that you have the best opportunity for success. That can’t happen if you disregard teachers who try to correct you and insist that you know better when you clearly have no clue about how the business actually works.”

Rachel felt the tears start to leak from her eyes, and in her heart she knew that her teacher was obviously reaching the point where she was ready to cut her losses. “Madam Tibideaux, I know that I made a lot of mistakes but I know that I can live up to your expectations. Please, just give me that chance and I’ll show you that I can.”

Madam Tibideaux didn’t answer immediately, studying the younger woman seated before her and Rachel felt like she was on trial for her life. It was bad enough losing Fanny, but if they took NYADA away from her, she didn’t know how she would ever bounce back.

“Ms. Berry, this isn’t about my expectations,” Madam Tibideaux said firmly. “This is about your wanting to be more than you are now, however good you may think you are. This is about you opening yourself up to learning from what criticism you are given. Because if you can’t handle a teacher correcting you during a lesson, then how will you handle a director not liking how you are playing a part?”

Rachel just nodded, realizing that her teacher was right. “I know that now,” she said morosely. “I didn’t listen to what they told me that they wanted at the audition and I lost out on my chance. I just don’t know if I have it in me to take that kind of criticism.”

“Then you’re not going to stand a chance,” Madam Tibideaux warned flatly. She gave her student an appraising stare and Rachel felt herself all but squirming beneath her sharp gaze.

“Ms. Berry, this is a very difficult business you’re trying to get into,” she stated with a clear tone of rebuke in her voice. “You’re going to hear ‘no’ a lot more than anything else and unless you are able to learn from your criticisms and try to grow from them, you’ll never survive. Making it in this industry is as much about emotional fortitude as it is talent, and there are many, many exceptionally talented people who don’t survive because they couldn’t handle criticism or rejection. That’s something that you have to find in yourself.”

The Dean leaned back in her seat and took a glance at her notes. “I think that we can consider most of this semester more or less a wash. But you do have a few more weeks and your final critiques to show us that you’re indeed serious about continuing your studies here. “

“I am,” Rachel insisted. “I need to be here. That’s become very obvious.”

Madam Tibideaux studied her, as if trying to determine how sincere she was. “You’ll have my evaluation to work from. I think that you should take the rest of this semester to really think about your future, both here and in the greater theater world. Because it only gets harder after this.”

“I know Madam,” Rachel assured her, wiping at her eyes. “I will.”

She felt strangely hollow as she walked out of the Dean’s office, like everything that she had thought true about herself had been scooped out and tossed away. But she also felt lighter, as if the fears that had been weighing her down were suddenly lifted from her shoulders. She could never have imagined that such a brutal evaluation that called out all of her weaknesses and failings would leave her feeling better than she had in days. It felt like now that all had been stripped away, she could finally start moving forward.

But one this was clear to her. Madam Tibideaux was right in that she had a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

Santana was barely able to contain her excitement as she walked into the loft after her shift at the dinner. “Hey bitches,” she greeted, slamming the door behind her.

“Just one bitch,” Rachel corrected from the kitchen where she was slicing up some fruit and soy cheese for an afternoon snack.

“Where’s Hummel?” Santana asked, stealing a slice of apple from Rachel’s plate and popping it into her mouth.

“School right now,” Rachel answered, swatting Santana’s hand away when she reached for another piece of fruit. “And he’s spending the night over at Adam’s. He said something about a study session.”

Santana snorted in amusement. “The only thing that Hummel is going to be studying is Prince Harry’s abs.”

That was a distinct possibility, Rachel considered with an amused smile as she bit delicately into a slice of pear. And she wouldn’t blame him one bit as she had eyes and Kurt’s boyfriend was an exceedingly well put together man.

“Adam’s trying to keep Kurt distracted until he hears from his father,” Rachel explained. “He’s got his doctor’s appointment today and it’s kind of important, so naturally Kurt is worried.”

Santana nodded, her dark eyes softening at the reminder. “I’d forgotten it was this week,” she admitted. “Kurt hasn’t been talking about it much.”

Rachel shrugged, knowing full well that her friend’s tendency of keeping his worries to himself wasn’t a habit that he would ever totally overcome. “I’m glad that he went to Adam,” she stated insistently. “He’d just sit around here worrying, and there isn’t anything we’d be able to do to really comfort him. Adam will be able to get him focused on something else.”

“Probably his penis,” Santana noted wryly as she put her sore feet up on the table. She gave Rachel an appraising stare. “You seem to be in a better mood than I’ve seen lately.”

Rachel pursed her lips thoughtfully and considered her roommate’s observation before nodding. “I’m not sure if it’s better, but my head is a lot clearer,” she claimed. “I’ve got some serious thinking to do about a lot of things.”

Santana cocked her head curiously at the other girl’s admission. “I get that,” she granted. “And I’ve got some news that might cheer you up a little bit.

“You remember my late lunch regular? The one with the terminal comb over?” Santana asked.

Rachel’s eyes narrowed as she tried to remember the particular customer that Santana was referring to. “Is that the one that you said looked like an old avocado that someone dropped,” she questioned.

Santana nodded enthusiastically. “That’s him. Well, he was in today and after he’d ordered his usual and he asked me to sing something for him. The place was kind of empty and at first I thought he was just creeping on me, but when I was done he asked if I’d be interested in a job.”

“What kind of job?” Rachel asked.

“Apparently he’s the owner of that piano bar down by the subway,” Santana explained. “And he’s got an opening for a singer and offered me the spot.”

Rachel felt a momentary stab of jealousy at seeing another of her friends getting a professional opportunity that she wasn’t, but was able to tamp down her immediate instinct to complain about her recent disappointments and offer her friend the support she deserved.

“That’s really great, Santana,” she said earnestly, wanting to be happy for her friend. “You’ve got the perfect voice for torch songs and standards.”

“Wow… that sounded almost… sincere,” Santana said with mock astonishment.

Rachel couldn’t help from sighing, very aware that her friends had good reason to expect that her response to their opportunities would be less than totally supportive. “I mean it,” she insisted. “You’re an amazing singer and I think you’ll do really well with this.”

Santana looked genuinely surprised that Rachel was being honest. “Well, it’s just two nights a week so I’m not giving up my day job,” she explained. “On their slower nights. The pay kind of sucks, but I get a fifty/fifty split on the tips with the pianist. And if they like me, I might be able to get a better slot.”

“They’re going to love you,” Rachel said, giving her roommate a reassuring smile. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Well, that’s not the only good news,” Santana said teasingly. “They’re going to be looking for another singer this summer because one of their regulars is having a baby, and I suggested you for when she goes on maternity leave. I’ll just be for a few weeks, but it might turn into something a bit more permanent if they like you. He’s heard you sing before at the diner and it’s not a guarantee, but he’s open to considering you. Interested?”

Rachel looked at Santana in surprise. “He really wants me?” she asked, feeling that hurt spot in her heart left by Funny girl start to ease just a bit.

“I suggested you,” Santana said honestly. “Look, I know what you’re thinking and yeah… maybe I am throwing you a pity line because you’ve been positively depressing to be around. But it’s not a bad deal, and it’ll give you a place to perform in front of an audience. The only thing is that we’ll need some appropriate clothes and I’ll need your help to convince Twinkle Tush to raid the Vogue vault for us again.”

Rachel laughed brightly when it finally got through to her that Santana was being serious. “Santana, thank you,” she said sincerely, feeling her throat tightening a bit. “I don’t know what to say.”

Santana’s gaze was appraising but gentle as she looked to her friend. “I know that you’ve had a rough time of it,” she granted. “When this opportunity came up, I thought it would be good for all of us. I’d have also tried to get Kurt in if he didn’t already have something that’s going to keep him busy for the next few months.”

She gave Rachel a tentative smile. “This way we all get to do some performing for a real audience, and I won’t have to put up with you moping around like someone shot your overpriced, hypoallergenic dog.”

“Santana, that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” Rachel insisted. “You didn’t have to. I mean, this is your opportunity. You earned it.”

Santana’s laugh was more like a harsh bark. “Oh yeah… I earned a chance to sing boring show tunes in a seedy piano bar during weeknight happy hours for a couple of drunks. What an accomplishment. I’m just inviting you along to suffer with me.”

Rachel knew that Santana would not get overly sentimental about her generosity and she was smart enough not to push her friend too hard on accepting her gratitude. Even if it didn’t work out in the end, the fact that Santana made the effort meant the world to her.

“And it’s great that you got a paying gig,” Rachel insisted. “It could lead to big things. I mean, Bette Midler got her start singing in bath houses. Who knows what this could lead to?”

Santana couldn’t help preening a bit at Rachel’s encouragement. “Well, it had better lead to me bringing more cash in. It’s time I really started paying my share.”

Rachel nodded, considering their absent roommate. “Especially if Kurt does what I’m expecting and moves in with Adam,” she said softly.

Santana didn’t respond immediately. “I was wondering if you had picked up on that,” she said carefully.

Rachel sighed and nodded. “He hasn’t said anything to me, but let’s be honest… it’s pretty obvious that it’s coming,” she explained.

“And how do you feel about that?” Santana asked, probing carefully.

Rachel paused to put the kettle on the stove, taking a moment to put her conflicted feelings into order before saying anything. “You know… back in Lima, whenever I thought about my future in New York, Kurt was always a big part of it. He’s my best friend and he’s supported me so much that I could never imagine trying to do this without him. When I first came here, I was miserable until he joined me.”

She looked up, her dark eyes shimmering. “I thought that Finn and Blaine would join us and we’d all be happy, building our futures here. But nothing turned out the way I expected,” she said with genuine regret. “Finn and I are over, and I don’t think we’ll ever see Kurt willingly in the same room with Blaine ever again.”

Santana nodded in agreement, waiting for Rachel to get to the point.

The smaller girl got out their mugs and found the box of green tea with ginger that Kurt always kept on hand for them. “The only thing that turned out the way I wanted was Kurt,” she admitted. “I’m terrified of losing him, and I know that I really depend on him. But I can see how happy he is with Adam and I don’t want to be the one standing in his way. He doesn’t deserve that.

“So when it happens, and I know that it will sooner rather than later, I’m going to do what a best friend is supposed to do,” Rachel stated resolutely. “I will cry a little bit, because I’m going to miss not having him around all the time, but I’ll be happy that he’s moving on with his life. I will help him pack and move and make sure he knows that I love him.”

She paused, one additional stipulation coming to mind. “And I will remind Adam that if he hurts Kurt, I will happily break his kneecaps,” she added.

Santana nodded in approval. “Well, I really hate to say it Berry, but you’ve really changed. And in a good way,” she claimed. “Because a few weeks ago, I thought for sure that you’d be barring the door to keep him from leaving.”

She wasn’t wrong, Rachel considered. A few weeks ago, she would have seen Kurt moving on with his life as betrayal and resented him for having a life that she would not be the absolute center of. Now she wanted to be happy for him and refused to be the one who caused him pain. He’d had enough of that from people who were supposed to love him.

“I know,” she granted, knowing that denying what Santana said would be pointless. “But the past few days have kind of cleared up how I was seeing things, and I’ve let a lot of things happen because I was too wrapped up in my own interests.”

Santana nodded in approval, giving Rachel a kind smile. “I have an idea,” she proposed. “You and I don’t hang out much together unless Hummel is around to play referee and I think we’re both entitled to a bit of fun.”

“What do you have in mind?” Rachel asked.

“I think that it’s overdue for us to play tourist in New York,” Santana stated. “I say we hop on the subway and see where we end up. There’s a whole lot of this city that we haven’t seen yet.”

Rachel’s expression brightened at the prospect. She had been so single minded about achieving her goal that she totally missed out on the fun of actually being in New York.

“I think that’s an absolutely fantastic idea,” she said happily. Before Santana could react, she pulled the other girl into a tight hug.

Santana blinked in surprise at Rachel’s exuberant response, which was a marked contrast to how dressed she’d been since her callback. Maybe they’d finally reached the turning point where things were starting to look up for everyone.

And the fact that she had been the one who brought that smile to Rachel’s face made Santana feel better than she ever wanted to admit to.

* * *

Adam watched his boyfriend, relieved that Kurt was able to find comfort at the center of their group of friends. He had managed to convince Kurt to go to school and try to focus on his classes rather than moping about his flat all day and for the most part, it worked out. Kurt was too dedicated a student to let his classes slide and once at his lessons, he was able to give them his attention. Kurt was still deeply worried about his father, but having something to distract him had done him a great deal of good.

He’d been with Kurt when he’d spoken with his father, and I couldn’t blame his young lover for being so anxious. Faced with the threat to his one living parent, Kurt had borne up exceedingly well but even he had his limits. Watching him trying to be brave when facing his worse fear had been heartbreaking.

He watched Kurt’s free hand squeeze tightly on itself and quickly reached out to take Kurt’s hand in his and offer what support he could. Kurt’s furtive glance to his boyfriend was grateful and Adam gave him a reassuring squeeze to provide what comfort his presence could.

“Dad, I can be on a plane tomorrow,” Kurt insisted, his voice taking on that wavering trill that betrayed nearly overwhelming tension. “No, I want to be there.”

He fell silent as he listened to his father and Adam saw his eyes began to glimmer from tears that threatened to fall. “Dad, it’s not a big deal. I know that Carole will be there, but…”

He paused and listened to his father and Adam was growing concerned. He knew that Burt’s treatment had been weighing heavily on Kurt’s mind, thought he rarely showed how worried he was. Fortunately school was demanding enough that Kurt couldn’t dwell on it all the time. And from what Adam knew, the elder Hummel did seem to be weathering everything as well as he possibly could. He was still dividing his time between his work in Washington D.C. and managing the shop back in Ohio. That would have been daunting for anyone, but adding the burden of his cancer treatment just made his fortitude even more admirable. It was obvious now where Kurt got his strength from.

Now that the initial course of treatment had been concluded, they were waiting on the results of his testing that would determine how effective it had been. All going well, he’d be in remission. But Adam knew that Kurt feared that the news would be bad and that this father would be facing additional treatment. That fear was only compounded by Kurt being in New York and not able to be with his father.

Adam could completely understand Kurt’s need to be with his family during this stressful time, but with the semester starting to wind down and upcoming finals and critiques, the timing was awful. Kurt couldn’t afford to miss classes, even for a few days. But how could he stay apart from his father at a time like this?

Kurt lowered the phone and looked to Adam, his eyes impossibly wide and young looking. “He wants to talk to you,” he said softly, barely holding back tears.

Adam nodded and accepted the phone, giving his hands another reassuring squeeze before letting Kurt try to regain his composure. “Sir?” he greeted carefully.

“Hey, I told you… it’s Burt,” Kurt’s father correctly with a warm chuckle. “Listen, Adam… I’m sure that Kurt told you that I’ve got my follow up with the oncologist this week to see how everything went.”

“Yes, he has. He very much wants to be with you when you get the results,” Adam affirmed carefully, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

“I know he does,” Burt sighed. “And I know that he really can’t. We knew that once he moved to New York that he wouldn’t be able to run back here for everything, but it’s okay. I’ll have Carol with me and Kurt being here isn’t going to change what the doctor tells me.”

Logically, Adam knew that Burt was right, but that was hard to accept when he saw the worry on Kurt’s face. “He still wants to be there,” Adam pointed out.

“I need you to do me a favor,” Burt requested. “I know it may not be possible, but try to keep Kurt distracted until my appointment. I’m going to call him as soon as I get the results. And I’m going to come to New York this weekend to spend some time with him. I just don’t want Kurt fretting until we know what’s happening.”

Adam sighed, knowing that an impossible task was being laid on his shoulders. “I’ll do my best, but you know Kurt,” he warned. “He’s going to worry no matter what I do.”

Burt chuckled ruefully and Adam could almost picture him running a hand through his hair in the same manner that Kurt did when frustrated. “I know he will, and I’m sorry for putting this on you. But it’ll be better for him to try to focus on his school work,” Burt explained. “I’m feeling great and Kurt needs to remember that it was caught real early so the odds are in my favor. I just don’t want Kurt to be in the dark about what’s going on.”

“I understand,” Adam said carefully, knowing that the older man was right. Kurt would not appreciate being shut out and finding out after the fact that his father was waiting on his test results, even if everything turned out well after the fact.

“Thanks, son,” Burt said gratefully. “I’ll call you both as soon as I’m done with the doctor.”

Adam handed the phone back to Kurt so that Burt could try to reassure his son. Kurt listened to his father, biting his lower lip as he listened to his father’s attempts to put his mind at ease and seemed to grudgingly accept that for once he couldn’t manage everything around him. After reluctantly wishing his father goodbye until they spoke after his appointment, he ended the call and let Adam pull him into a warm hug.

Admittedly, his efforts to keep Kurt distracted were not entirely successful. He’d tried to keep Kurt busy outside of class, going for runs in the morning and planning activities with their friends. It was obvious at times that Kurt’s mind was drifting and he wasn’t entirely there. Except for his class work, which Kurt would never allow himself to slack off on, he found it hard to focus and to not think about his father.

While the wait for Burt’s appointment had been agonizing, Kurt had weathered it with his customary fortitude. Adam smiled with pride as he watched his group work through their latest routine with Kurt fulfilling his role in the arrangement. The song was one of the most complex that the Apples had ever attempted and it gave Kurt something to concentrate on. Being amongst friends did seem to cheer his boyfriend up a bit and Adam felt some relief that Kurt was able to smile a bit.

When they broke for the day, Mei and Corrine gave their friend a warm embrace, apparently sensing that something was up. Adam knew that Kurt had not advertised his father’s medical concerns, but hopefully they would have good news to announce at their next session.

Once the rest of the group had cleared out, Adam came up to Kurt. “You sounded wonderful,” he complimented honestly. “Your range is really making figuring out these arrangements easier for me.”

Kurt gave him a smile. “I’m kind of like vocal Velcro. I stick no matter where you throw me.”

“Well, that’s going to come very handy when you are looking for work,” Adam advised him. “I’m starting to think that there’s nothing that you can’t sing.”

Kurt couldn’t help from chuckling a bit at the compliment. “Your bias is showing again,” he accused playfully.

Adam’s blue eyes crinkled as he grinned broadly. “When it comes to you, always,” he admitted. “You know I think the world of your talent and considering how well you performed under the circumstances, I think that I’m entitled to think highly of you.”

Kurt’s smile faded a trace at the reminder that all was not totally well in his world. “What time is it?” he couldn’t help from asking.

Adam checked his watch and gave his lover a reassuring smile. “It’s a little after four.”

“Dad should be at the doctor now,” Kurt mused, mentally trying to calculate how long the appointment was likely to run.

“He’s probably going to be there for a little bit,” Adam surmised. “We should have time to get back to my flat before he calls. And we can celebrate afterwards.”

Kurt looked to him, his eyes all but pleading for reassurance. “You really think he’s going to be okay?”

Adam’s expression softened and he reached out to cup Kurt’s face in his broad hand. “I do. I really do,” he insisted. “And if the news is less than good, we’ll handle it. Your dad is so strong and he’s not going t let something like this stop him.”

Kurt leaned into him, taking comfort from his support and giving a watery sigh. “Can we go home?” he asked plaintively. “In case he calls.”

Adam nodded, seeing that Kurt had pretty much reached his limits. He wrapped his arm about Kurt’s shoulders, guiding him along and using his presence to shield Kurt from the commotion of the other students. It was a short subway ride to his flat and he quickly had Kurt sequestered in the privacy of his home as they waited for the news.

His attempts at keeping Kurt calm and distracted were clearly no longer working, Adam considered as they waited on pins and needles for the all important phone call. Even his offering of tea and biscuits and a cuddle on the couch failed to ease Kurt’s mind and he was very nearly climbing the walls in anxiousness. Adam became concerned that Kurt would send himself into fits when at nearly six o’clock, Kurt’s cell phone rang.

Kurt’s face paled when he saw that the call was from his father and quickly answered the phone. “Hi Dad,” he greeted, clearly struggling to keep the tension out of his voice. “How did it go?”

Adam watched his boyfriend carefully as he listened to his father, seeing the way his knuckles whitened as he gripped his phone. Tears began to roll down Kurt’s face and he didn’t say much beyond a few sounds of affirmation.

“That’s great, Dad,” he finally said, no longer able to keep the quiver out of his voice. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

When he ended the call, it was all Adam could do not to pester him about his father. Kurt took a long, shuddering breath and looked to his boyfriend, the tears falling freely now.

“Sweetheart?” Adam said gently, holding out his arms.

Kurt flung himself into Adam’s offered embrace, grasping at him and shivering as the pent up emotions in him demanded release.

“He’s okay,” he sobbed, pressing his face into Adam’s supportive shoulder. “He’s in remission!”

“Oh, darling… that’s wonderful,” Adam exclaimed, holding him tight.

Kurt was sobbing openly now, finally giving into the stress that he’d been keeping under wraps, and all Adam wanted to do was offer him the support that he needed. He held Kurt tightly in his arms as his lover cried, making comforting sounds as he stroked Kurt’s hair.

“It’s all right, love,” he assured the younger man, feeling his shirt getting damp. “He’s going to be fine.”

“I was so scared,” Kurt sobbed, clinging to Adam as if his life depended on it. “I couldn’t lose him too.”

Adam didn’t say anything, knowing that Kurt’s fears were not unfounded. Losing his mother to cancer at a young age had clearly weighed on his mind during this, and Adam knew that losing his father would have broken something permanently in him.

He let his lover cry out his fears and relief, loosening his embrace only when he heard Kurt quieting. “Better, love?” he asked gently, letting Kurt pull back a bit and regain his composure.

Kurt sniffled and nodded. He wiped at his eyes, brushing away the tears. “Oh God, I must be a total mess,” he bemoaned. “I’m the ugliest crier in the world.”

“That’s only because you feel things so strongly,” Adam assured him. “And you’re still beautiful.”

Kurt gave him a wan smile that didn’t quiet reach his eyes, but Adam knew that it would take a little bit before he fully regained his usual poise. “Your bias is showing again,” he accused playfully, giving a slightly watery chuckle.

Adam just reached out to cup Kurt’s face in both hands, his thumbs smoothing away the tear tracks on his cheeks. “You amaze me,” Adam insisted, his voice husky as he felt an overwhelming sense of love towards the young man standing before him. “You are so strong, to deal with everything that you have. I just feel so privileged that let me be a part of your life.”

Kurt’s eyes glimmered as more tears threatened, but not from sadness. “You silly thing… I wouldn’t have gotten through this if it weren’t for you,” he insisted.

“Yes, you would have,” Adam claimed brightly. “Because you couldn’t do otherwise. But now… I think that we’re deserving of a bit of a celebration.”

Kurt’s smile became a bit brighter at the prospect. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Well, we are still continuing your education as an honorary Englishman, so I could take you to my favorite chip shop,” Adam proposed. Kurt would normally shy away from fried food, but after the emotional stress of the past few days he could use a bit of comfort food. A plate of fish and chips always made Adam feel better when he was down. “Afterwards, we can pick up a bottle of wine and spend the night cuddling in front of the telly.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Kurt countered, letting a slightly teasing tone color his voice. “We go to your chip shop and you feed me all kinds of unhealthy food. Then we pick up that bottle of wine. I insist on a Riesling. And then we come back here and make love until neither of us can move.”

Adam grinned widely. “That sounds like a capital idea,” he said agreeably. “Why don’t you go wash your face and freshen up? I’ll call your girls and let them know the good news if you’d like.”

Kurt smiled at him gratefully, pausing to kiss him warmly. “Thanks. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, gently running his hand down his lover’s arm to give his hand a squeeze.

Adam watched him disappear into the bathroom and close the door behind him, feeling a sense of relief coming over him. He’d been desperately worried, and not just for Kurt. He’d gotten rather fond of Burt since their first meeting and was relieved to know that he would be well. And while he might not see much of his lover while the Hummels were in town, he couldn’t begrudge Kurt this.

In the meantime, he had some good news to spread and some minds to put at ease.

* * *

“Why didn’t you tell us, honey?” Mags asked, pulling Kurt into a tight hug. “We would have wanted to help.”

The rest of the Apples made distressed affirmations, clearly upset that Kurt had not come to them with his troubles. And that warmed Kurt’s heart. He wished that he had been able to say something, but he was so used to keeping silent during his difficult times.

Mei grasped his hand, pulling him towards her. “We got the feeling that something wasn’t right, but we had no idea it was something this serious,” she said sadly.

“Guys, I really do appreciate it, but really wasn’t anything you could have done. I really needed to keep things as normal as possible. I worry enough on my own,” he explained. “And Adam was taking really good care of me.”

They didn’t seem too happy with the answer, not liking that they couldn’t support their friend when he’d needed them, but had to respect Kurt’s feelings. They had come to know him quite well since he’d joined the group and understood his reluctance to bring his troubles to others.

Adam clapped his hands, getting the group’s attention, wanting to get their attention off of Kurt. “Okay all… let’s take it from the top. I think that we’ve got the vocal’s pretty well down, but let’s see if we can get through the choreography without running into one another.”

The group hurried to their places, forming a V formation on stage with Adam at the front to lead them off. Mitchel cued up the music and the slow, pounding rhythm like a heartbeat began to fill the small theater.

“Nature, nurture, heaven and home,” Adam began to lead the group off, his voice resonating across the stage. “Sum of all, and by them, driven. To conquer every mountain shown. But I’ve never crossed the river.”

Behind him, Kurt and Tommy joined in, their higher voices layering with his and providing a pleasing counterpoint. “Braved the forests, braved the stone,” the three sang. “Braved the icy winds and fire. Braved and beat them on my own. Yet I’m helpless by the river.”

Jules and Mitchel then joined in, building on the collection of voices. “Angel, angel, what have I done? I’ve faced the quakes, the wind, the fire. I’ve conquered country, crown, and throne. Why can’t I cross this river?”

The rest of the men in the group joined in and they all began to move in formation, as if soldiers marching to battle. “Angel, angel, what have I done?” they sang in harmony. The sound was full and rich, ranging from Kurt’s bright tenor to Jule’s near bass. “I’ve faced the quakes, the wind, the fire. I’ve conquered country, crown, and throne. Why can’t I cross this river?”

The men then paused in place, falling silent as Mags and Jill began to sing. Both were altos and their voices flowed luxuriantly together. “Pay no mind to the battles you’ve won. It’ll take a lot more than rage and muscle. Open your hearts and hands my son. Or you’ll never make it over the river.”

They stepped forward with Mei and Corrine falling in behind them, the altos now supporting the brighter sopranos. “It’ll take a lot more than words and guns,” the girls sang strongly. “A whole lot more than riches and muscle. The hands of the many must join as one. And together we’ll cross the river.”

Now with the whole group in full voice, the real complexity of the song became clear. They began to sing in a round, forming complex patterns and the contrasting lyrics and vocally playing off one another. The men sang of the struggle, while the women sang of hope. The choreography became more intricate with the song’s complexity, the group forming patterns and passes as they flowed past one another, their voices playing off one another. The song continued to build until they all found themselves back in their original formation, singing together as a whole.

“Nature, nurture, heaven and home,” they song together, voices rising to the climax. “And together we’ll cross the river. And together we’ll cross the river.”

“And together we’ll cross the river,” Adam finished alone, providing a gentle finish as the music drew to a close. He took a deep breath, shifting from performer to chorus leader and considering what they’d just accomplished. He turned to face his group, who were looking to him expectantly for praise or criticism.

“That was… bloody amazing,” he stated. He paused, thought for a quick second and then nodded again. “Absolutely fantastic, everyone. It was everything that I could have expected.”

He was ready to suggest a slight change to the choreography and the timing of a few points in the song when they were startled by some applause and cheers coming from the back of the theater. Adam spun about, seeing a middle aged man and woman step into view.

“Dad!” Kurt exclaimed, all but running off stage and throwing himself at his father. Burt caught him in a tight embrace and all but lifted his son from the ground. And if Kurt clung to him a bit longer than absolutely necessary, no one was going to comment on it.

“I thought you weren’t going to get in until tomorrow,” he claimed, looking up at his father.

“We were able to get on an earlier plane,” Burt explained, giving Kurt’s hair a bit of a ruffle and earning a protesting squeak in response. “We wanted to surprise you.”

Carole took Kurt into her arms, providing the motherly warmth that he so often missed. “I told him he should call you, but you know your father,” she complained playfully, kissing his cheek.

Kurt’s eyes seemed to shimmer a bit with happy tears and whatever protests he might have had for that unnecessary surprise were appeased by having his father with him.

Kurt turned to the rest of the group, who were watching curiously from the stage. “Hey guys, these are my parents,” he introduced.

“You all sounded incredible,” Carole complimented, giving the group a warm smile. “Adam, your group is amazing.”

He gave Kurt’s folks a warm smile and hopped off the stage to greet them. “It’s good to see you,” he said sincerely, giving Burt a warm handshake and Carole a peck on the cheek.

“That was some pretty impressive singing,” Burt complimented. “I really like how everyone’s voices get used and not just one or two people in the front.”

Adam smiled brightly. “That’s always been something we’ve tried to do,” he insisted. “We’ve got a lot of talented people and I try to make sure everyone gets their chance when we’re doing arrangements like this.”

Burt nodded approvingly. “That’s a lot better than how Kurt’s old chorus used to do things. It was always the same few people on lead all the time.”

“Dad…”

“I’m just calling it like I see it,” Burt insisted.

“Come on… let me introduce you to everyone,” Kurt said, hoping to distract his father from his usual tirade about how New Directions had been managed. He took his father in hand and began to lead him about, making the personal introductions to his friends.

Carole came up to Adam and let him throw a casual arm about her shoulders as they watched their loved ones. Kurt’s smile was the brightest that Adam could remember in the past few days, free of the shadows that had tainted every waking moment.

“I wanted to thank you for keeping an eye on Kurt,” she said gratefully. “He would have just driven himself insane trying to manage everything. And probably would have driven his father crazy in the process.”

Adam looked down at her fondly. “I’m glad that I was able to help a little bit.”

“It took a lot off Burt’s mind, knowing that you were watching out for Kurt,” she insisted. “He may not show it, but he’s gotten rather fond of you.”

The affirmation that Kurt’s family accepted him and found that they could depend on him during a time of trouble cause Adam’s heart to swell warmly.

Burt and Kurt rejoined them, both of them laughing and smiling. “How about you show me and Carole around this fancy school of yours?” Burt proposed. “We’ll go out for dinner tonight.”

Adam tried not to let his smile fade, knowing that he’d have to relinquish Kurt’s attention and time for the next few days. But he refused to be childish and knew that his boyfriend needed a bit of time to reconnect with his parents. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have Kurt all to himself much of the time. He could be a gentleman and allow Kurt the time he needed without whining.

Burt looked to the Englishman. “Adam, we thought that we’d go out at seven. How about you and Kurt meet us at our hotel? One of the guys in the New York delegation told me about this steakhouse nearby that sounds like the perfect place to celebrate.”

Adam blinked in surprise. “Oh… I wasn’t sure… I thought you’d want some time to yourselves,” he said politely; ready to bow out gracefully if necessary.

Burt chuckled, giving Adam’s shoulder a playful jab. “And have Kurt pouting all night? Besides, I kind of owe you one for keeping him sane the past few days. The least I can do is treat you to a good dinner.”

Adam looked to Kurt uncertainly, who was positively beaming alongside his father. Realizing that this was Burt’s way of including him with the family, he nodded and accepted the invitation. “Well, how can I say no, then? I’d love to join you all.”

Burt smiled broadly, pulling his wife under his other arm. “I’ll give you back Kurt in a little bit,” he assured the younger man.

Kurt paused to kiss his boyfriend. “I’ll meet you back at your place in about an hour,” he promised.

Adam watched, grinning to himself as Kurt lead his parents out of the auditorium, chattering at a mile a minute about all the things he’d been up to at school. Turning back to the rest of the group, he gave a bashful shrug at their knowing smiles. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to carry on without Kurt,” he offered. “We still have a bit of time.”

Mags shook her head. “Oh no. You are going to go make yourself handsome for your big dinner with the in-laws,” she insisted critically. She reached out to snatch Adam’s beanie off his head before he could pull away. “You need a haircut.”

Adam ran a hand through his hair, feeling that it was a bit overgrown. He didn’t mind it being longer because Kurt always liked playing with his curls. But he had parents to impress.

Mags took him in hand. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s get you to the barber and figure out what you’re going to wear tonight.”

* * *

Kurt was all but bouncing up the stairs to Adam’s apartment, mentally calculating that he had about an hour to shower and make himself presentable before they had to leave to meet his parents. Hopefully Adam had already taken advantage of the chance to shower, otherwise they’d be crammed in the tiny bathroom together and neither of them would be ready in time.

He used his key to open the door, still feeling a tiny thrill of having a key to his boyfriend’s apartment. “Adam, are you here?” he called out, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door. “I’m going to run into the shower!”

“I’ll be out in just a second,” Adam called out from the bathroom.

Kurt began to toe off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to shrug off his clothes before hopping into the shower. He looked up as Adam stepped out of the bathroom and felt his jaw drop.

Adam was dressed in several of the pieces that Kurt had brought home from Vogue with him in mind. The black slacks clung to his hips and showed off the long line of his legs and drew attention to his toned waist. The dress shirt was teal silk that brought out the blue of his eyes and made his chest and shoulders look amazing. Finished with his dress shoes, he looked elegant but without being fussy.

“You got a haircut,” Kurt noted, seeing the way his curls lay neatly defined and smoothed with a bit of styling pomade. The shorter style drew attention to his strong jaw line and elegant cheekbones.

“Mags insisted that I needed it,” Adam explained. He held out his arms and turned so that Kurt could see his outfit from all angles.

“Did I choose all right?” he asked. “You’ve got a much better eye for fashion than I do.”

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling. “You look amazing,” he assured his boyfriend. “You didn’t have to go through so much trouble. It’s just dinner with my folks.”

Adam just smiled warmly at him. “Exactly. It’s dinner with your family and we’re celebrating your father’s good health. I wanted to show my respect for the occasion.”

Kurt felt his eyes water, but for a good reason. “You are such a gentleman,” he teased gently. “And you look gorgeous. I’d better hop to it if I want to look nearly as good.”

Adam just smiled and kissed Kurt warmly. “You get into the shower. I left you plenty of hot water.”

“Love you so much,” Kurt sighed, forcing himself to pull away. “I won’t be too long.”

Forty five minutes later, Kurt emerged from Adam’s bedroom; his hair styled neatly and dressed in grey slacks and a sage green shirt that brought out all kinds of amazing colors in his eyes. Adam smiled in approval.

“Lovely,” he complimented, kissing Kurt on the lips. “I’m going to be the envy of every man there.”

Kurt couldn’t help from chuckling. “At least the men whose inclinations lean towards our own,” he corrected. “And yes… you will.”

Adam smiled, his eyes crinkling in happiness. “I’m so glad to see you back to your old self, love.”

Kurt sighed, pursing his lips and nodding. “I know that I wasn’t my best,” he agreed. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

“Always. Now let’s not keep your folks waiting.”

* * *

“You really ate a whole steak and a lobster?” Finn asked incredulously over the Skype line.

“Just a lobster tail,” Kurt clarified, sipping at his coffee.

Finn shook his head in astonishment. “You are really scary with how much you eat,” he admonished playfully, earning a wry grin from his stepbrother. “Nobody believes me when I tell them.”

“You take my dance class twice a week and you’ll see why I eat the way I do,” he insisted. “I totally burn it off. And I’m really getting muscles now.” He angled the camera on the laptop so that Finn could see him flex his arm to make his bicep pop.

Finn laughed. “Adam must love that,” he noted.

Kurt grinned smugly. “He’s not complaining.”

Finn fell silent for a second, looking wistful. “I really miss you, bro,” he said simply.

Kurt just smiled, squelching the instinct to call his stepbrother out on using the hated “bro” label. “I wish you could have been here,” he mused. “But how do you like New Orleans?”

Finn smiled broadly, getting that excited, animated quality that he always showed when really happy about something. “You would love this place so much,” he insisted. “The people here are amazing and the food! Puck and I had crawfish the other day! They’re like this tiny little lobsters and they call them mudbugs. And there’s this place down by the river that makes these crazy donuts… they’ve got so much powdered sugar on them that you end up wearing half of it.”

“That’s so not for me,” Kurt insisted, grinning at Finn’s delight at finding new and delicious things to eat.

“They’re really good,” Finn promised him. “And I’ve never seen you turn down dessert.”

“Finn… my clothes…”

“Anyway, Mom and Burt called me right after they called you with the good news,” Finn assured him. “Sorry I couldn’t join them when they came to visit you, but we just got here.”

Kurt nodded reassuringly. “It’s okay,” he insisted. “I’m just glad that you seem to be doing okay down there.”

Puck suddenly came into view on Kurt’s monitor. “Hey little dude!” he greeted brightly.

“Hi Puck!” Kurt responded brightly. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Just chatting up some tourist girls. Let me tell you… me and my boy here have been hitting it on the regular,” he said slyly. “The women here just love guys doing good deeds.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing. “I’m so thrilled that working with Habitats for Humanity is helping you get laid!”

Puck looked at him in shock. “Dude, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you talking about sex.”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m not getting it on the regular,” Kurt reminded him teasingly. He burst out laughing at the shocked look on Puck’s face.

“Anyway, we both are coming up for your shows,” Finn promised. “We’ll take the bus and meet Mom and Burt.”

“That sounds great,” Kurt agreed. “I told them that the best time to come would be the last night that we do Hamlet and then we start Much Ado two days later. That way you get to see both performances.”

“Just let us know the dates,” Finn reminded. “I really can’t wait to see you.”

Kurt smiled warmly, very badly missing his brother and his friend. “Me too. You keep an eye on each other. And stay out of trouble! I’ve heard that Louisiana jails suck!”

“We will,” Finn promised. “Say ‘hi’ to the girls for us.”

Kurt closed his laptop and leaned back on the sofa, feeling his mind settle as he had a moment to enjoy some peace for the first time in days. Now that the stress of worrying about his father was resolved, he could finally let himself relax.

He was so used to not letting others see him troubled, because tears were signs of weakness that an attacker could use against him. He always had to appear strong, even if he was dying inside. He did it when his mother died, and when his father had his heart attack. He did it when his father first revealed his cancer diagnosis and had to put on a brave face in front of his ex. Even his girls were kept at arm’s length while he grappled with his deepest fears.

He found himself smiling when he realized that there was someone that he could cry in front of. It hadn’t even been a thought in the back of his mind when it happened, but he knew that Adam would never use it against him. Knowing that he had been that open with his feelings in front of the man he loved felt… freeing.

Looking at the clock, he knew that he had a half hour before he had to meet his family. They had enough time for lunch before his parents had to leave for the airport, and he didn’t want to waste any time he had with them. Kurt knew what was important to him and he wasn’t going to waste what precious opportunities he had.

Kurt knew just how fortunate he was. He had his father alive and well, a stepmother and stepbrother that he had grown to deeply love, and friends that had come to mean as much to him as any blood relation. He was taking his first steps towards the career he’d been aspiring to since he was a child. Last, but most certainly not least, he had a boyfriend who had stood by his side, supported him and shown him the kind of love that he’d always dreamed of.

One thing was certain; he was no longer afraid and would be embracing everything that came to him without reservations.

*Song used by Adam's Apples - The Humbling River by Pucifer

[acuratorslife]

Remembering George Kolombatovich

Kathleen Reckling

December 2, 2018

 An excellent conversationalist.

Knowledgeable.

A gentleman.

An opportunity maker.

Kind.

A fencer’s advocate.

A bow-tie wearing badass.

 When I was preparing my remarks for today, I asked some of George’s college coaching colleagues and some of his former fencers how they remembered him, and these are some of the words and phrases they shared.

 An excellent conversationalist.

Knowledgeable.

A gentleman.

An opportunity maker.

Kind.

A fencer’s advocate.

A bow-tie wearing badass.

 That last one is probably my favorite – and it came from Oriana Issacson, an epeeist and team captain, class of 2009 – it’s probably my favorite because I can’t remember ever seeing George without a bow tie.

 And George was a badass.

 You always knew that having George strip-side was the equivalent of having a member of royalty in your corner. Your ref was going to make sure he got things right.

 Like a lot of fencers who would come to join the Columbia lions family, I first really met George at Summer Nationals, in between my Junior and Senior years of high school – it was a “recruiting meeting.”

 Fencing was relatively new to me. I had only started as a freshman in high school, but fell in love with the sport and threw my heart… and my parents’ money (I’m still paying them back)… into it, full throttle. I earned cadet and junior points quickly, but I was for all intents and purposes a no-namer… untested…

I wasn’t on the World team, I was captain of my HS fencing team…That meant something to George.

 I had visions of gold medals, and Ivy League rings, and NCAA rings, and Olympic rings… I had aspirations.  That also meant something to George.

 So, in our meeting we probably spent about 15 minutes talking fencing… about what I had done and what I wanted to do… And then I mentioned I was a classically trained violinist. Well, then we spent the next 45 minutes talking about art, and Joshua Bell and opera and Paris…

 George was an exceptional conversationalist.

 Over the following months, I’d have a few other conversations and emails with George, and then came the famous phone call. You know, the one that goes like this:

 George: Are you sitting down.

Athlete: Yes.

George: Well, I just wanted to call you to say that I can’t call you to tell you that admissions has reviewed your application and accepted you to Columbia University. I can’t call you to tell you that, so I’m not calling to tell you that. Happy Thanksgiving.

 Now, for some context for the current team… getting recruited in the Ivy League was a different process 15 years ago. There was no such thing as a “letter of intent,” and there was no “signing day.” Sure, you’d have a verbal commitment, but there were “horror” stories of fencers who had verbal commitments, only to find they were rejected by admissions. We were like every other non-sword wielding muggle who had to submit an application and wait. Hanging over our heads was a certain degree of uncertainty that we’d get accepted. So that phone call meant a lot… and then we had to keep quiet about it.

 This was because the Ivy League didn’t believe in recruiting. The ethos was that to be scholar-athlete in the Ivy League was to be a Scholar above all.

 George felt differently… because he knew differently.

 In that first recruiting meeting he told me about Olympian Ann Marsh – who happened to be and continues to be one of my fencing sheros -- how in between bouts at World Championships she’d be reading her organic chemistry textbooks, studying for the MCATs. He took pride in her prowess on the strip and in the classroom. Later, once I was a full-fledged lion, George introduced me to Ann at a NAC. A couple of hours later, I would have, let’s call it the pleasure of drawing Ann in a DE… and while she was really pleased to meet me, she was also really pleased to beat me.

 Without the benefits of scholarships and meal-plan perks, George made Columbia fencing among the most sought after collegiate program in the country because he believed with all his heart that it was possible to be a scholar and an athlete in equal measure… and to be equally exceptional in both.

 My time as a scholar-athlete at Columbia is punctuated by a two-year captainship, first team All-Ivy, All-American honorable mention, third place team finish at the NCAAS, and what is perhaps my most memorable experience at Columbia, an Ivy League Championship. I traveled with George to World Cups. in fact, at one, I had food poisoning and George in his capacity as head referee made sure I had a strip near the bathroom, so I could throw-up between bouts… not the same as Ann studying Orgo between bouts, but it does show how George took care of his fencers at home and abroad. I was also Dean’s List, a 2x Academic All-Ivy, a staff reporter for the Spec, and a class marshal at commencement – anyway, listing this is not really to tell you about me, it’s to testify to how George made personal success possible.

 And I think about my teammates Emma Baratta and Jeff Spear among others, who were not only on the national senior teams, they were Academic All-Americans –  Like, they were the smartest College Athletes in America.

 George loved boasting that Columbia’s fencers were Olympians and All-Americans – I think he had 150 over his career. But he also loved to boast that our team carried the highest GPA of all athletic teams at Columbia. I think Mike loves boasting about that too.

 All this to say, you wanted to go to Columbia because you knew you’d have the support, the resources, and the access to be a collegiate athlete, a world class athlete (if that’s what you wanted), and an academic. You know, have your Ivy League cake and eat it too…

 The Scholar-Athlete equilibrium built into the DNA of this program was built by George. Everyone who comes into this fencing room, and gets to sing “Roar, Lion, Roar” is a beneficiary of that legacy. And I applaud Mike for his commitment to ensuring this legacy.

 George was one of the advocates for establishing the Ivy League round robin tournament. Before that, you’d fence each school in the League whenever it got scheduled, so often athletes vying for spots on national teams would have to make a choice – world cup, or meet v. Cornell, World cup or meet v. Harvard… essentially, National Team or college team. The Round Robin made is so that those athletes traveling to World Cups didn’t have to choose between college team and national team. Have your fencing cake and eat it too…

 He also believed you didn’t need to have a team entirely made-up of National Team members to win championship titles. To make a Team you need more than just wins. You need heart. And so he created pathways for athletes who loved the sport and who loved being part of a team to be on this team. This is what coaches at NYU and St. John’s admired most about him: He made opportunities for good kids.

 George was an exceptional conversationalist.

He was an athlete’s advocate.

He also had a sense of humor.

 The night before we’d ship off for an away meet, he’d circulate the traveling squads. Now, if you know me, you know my mother. My mother came to all but 2 of my college meets, and is herself a member of many Veterans World Championship Team, and goes way, way back to old Fencers Club days.

So the night before we traveled to Penn State for a set of duals, he posted that Diane Reckling would be starting against Notre Dame, instead of me… honestly, I was totally fine with that… My mother was pretty flattered…

 I will always remember our captains’ meetings in his office, surrounded by stacks and stacks of papers and more lions than in all the prides in Africa.

 I stayed at Columbia to do my Masters in Art History – which I jokingly referred to as a “trophy wife degree…” George thought that was pretty funny, and would send me punny art cartoons, often to that effect. But he also set-me up as a phys ed instructor, so I could earn some extra money towards all those expensive art books.

 There are probably more lows in sport than there are highs. But in lows, George always found the thing to say that made you believe your next “feels” would be a high. I think it’s easy as an athlete, sometimes, often, to look back and focus on the success you didn’t have, rather than the things you did do. Especially when you’re surrounded by such incredible, high-achieving people. If your goal was First Team All-American, and you didn’t make it, or if it was to be an Olympian, and you weren’t, you start to think this is how you’ll be remembered – for the things you didn’t achieve. When I found out I was going to get my picture on the Wall of Fame, I was actually kind of surprised. I mean, I knew what my Teammates had done – James Williams won a silver medal at the Olympics – and the other fencers on the wall, Dan Kellner, Erinn Smart, these were the people I looked up to. I didn’t think what I had done was as deserving. But George just looked at me and said, Common Kathleen. Look at all these things you did. You deserve this. George always made you proud of your successes, because they were yours.

 Just an aside about the wall, since this is the first time I’ve been in here in a while… when my picture did go up, it went up with the class of 1937. Right. Like, women didn’t GO to Columbia in 1937. I was with the class of 1937 because the wall was full – I mean look at it. But, I’m not really sure why I was the one that ended up in 1937 – it wasn’t based on the alphabet, because I’m pretty sure Williams comes after Reckling… but I guess if you have an Olympic silver medal, you get right of way, so OK, I’ll let it go. Anyway, it became a bit of a running joke with George whenever I’d come back to campus. George, I know I study old pictures, but that doesn’t mean I want to hang on the wall with ‘em.

 I never once heard him yell at a fencer on the team, and he genuinely took joy in watching an athlete improve from season to season.  

 If I’m making a list of “best days of my life,” the day George called me to say he wasn’t calling to say I had been accepted into Columbia ranks at #1. Because that was when I was given my Columbia family.

 I am so grateful to George because he gave me an opportunity to attend this incredible institution, and to walk onto campus with the comfort of knowing I had a built-in group of friends – my teammates – who really were the most amazing support network throughout college and since. I am grateful for his kindness, for his unwavering cheerleader support of me even when I’m not sure I deserved it… and for his pride in who I was on and off the strip.  

 An excellent conversationalist.

Knowledgeable.

A gentleman.

An opportunity maker.

Kind.

A fencer’s advocate.

A bow-tie wearing badass.

 This is how I too will remember you, George.

Thank you.

Roar, Lion, Roar.