Not Alone | Blaine Anderson

Wide Awake

Soon enough the same mindset was shared with everyone at school, with how Finn would have wanted us to move on, not dwell. How we would want us to win Nationals, and that became our only focus.

"All right, big week, guys," Schue walked into the room from his office, holding a piece of paper, "Come on, gather round, I have here in my hand - drumroll, please," I was sat next to Blaine on the piano, who grabbed my hands and began to drum on the piano for me, "a secret list of the show choirs that we will be in competition with at Nationals in six weeks. Okay, let's see what we've got. We got the Rust-Belters from Pittsburgh, the Thunder Showcats from Gainesville and finally, from Fort Wayne, Throat Explosion."

Suddenly, Tina shrieked "No!" from the top of her lungs, "Why, God?!"

"Tina stop being ove-dramatic I've never heard of them before, how good can they be?" I rolled my eyes, they defineely hadn't competed at any of our previous competitions.

"Throat Explosion? That's a joke right?" Jake scoffed.

"Anything but!" Blaine replied, "They're the new supergroup the Show Choir Underground's been buzzing about. Their budgets for costume, makeup, hair alone are astronomical. You guys have read that Malcolm Gladwell book Outliers, right?"

Nobody nodded besides me, but that was becasue Blaine had gotten me to read it. "So, Gladwell says you can't possibly master anything unless you've spent 10,000 hours practicing it. So students can't even join Throat Explosion without proving they've logged in 10,000 hours of show choir rehearsal," Blaine explained, "They don't even go to class. They just perform, every minute of every day. They live their art. They know no boundaries. They're constantly pushing the envelope, living and performing on the edge. They're like mini Lady Gagas."

"We're so screwed," Tina shook her head, "they're not like Vocal Adrenaline, who were unfeeling Borg robots. They're total outsiders and misfits, which used to be our niche. We can't compete with Throat Explosion anymore at that level because we lost our biggest Gag when Kurt graduated last year."

I coughed very loudly, though Blaine spoke first, "I will defend that we still have a Hummel in this room, who has countlessly proved that she is as much as a Gaga as Kurt, even more so in some areas."

"Thank you baby I love you," I whispered to Blaine, quickly kissing him on the lips.

"Nevertheless," Tina argued back, "we're still a room full of, like, Katy Perrys now."

"Oh, you best check your spectrum, Queen T, because orange is the new black, and Unique is the new Gaga," she then turned to face me, "Sorry Hummel."

"Well not Marley - she's a Katy Perry," Tina replied, "So is Sam, so is Blaine."

"I'm a Katy Perry and I'm proud of it," Blaine muttered.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, "You're my teenage dream baby."

"I've made you such the sap," Blaine smiled, resting his forehead against mine as he smiled softly.

"Uh, the truth is, Tina, we're a potent mix of Katy Perrys and Lady Gagas in here," Schue interupted, "But it's not a liability, it's the way we're gonna beat Throat Explosion. Some of us in here are, you know, ambi-edge."

"Ambi-edge? Did you just make that up?" Artie questioned.

Schue stumbled on his words, "Uh, some of us are more, you know, wholesome, innocent, romantic, all-American girl and boy next door types. Uh, who in here would describe themselves as a Gaga?"

Me, Tina, Kitty, Unique and Jake all put our hands up. "Okay, great and the rest of you are Katys?"

"Is there a third option?" Ryder asked, somewhat off-put.