Kurt sighed, thinking about the mountain of work he had left to do tonight, while he was sitting in this room. Perhaps the whole idea was a ridiculous waste of time.

"So, how long do we have to wait here? This is humiliating," Dani sighed from the stage.

Her comments echoed his own thoughts. "I spent all my tip money renting out this room because I thought we'd have a turnout."

Santana went into her rant about picking a band name, and Kurt bickered back. He wasn't going to agree to a name unless he really liked it. This band was his idea, and he needed to make decisions he believed in.

He looked down at the one person who had signed up for an audition but had probably chickened out. "Maybe it's for the best. I mean, who names himself 'Starchild'?"

"It's an homage to Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars," a rich tenor voice drawled from the doorway.

Everyone turned to look at the man, and there was complete silence as they took him all in. He was dressed in a black suit, but the jacket had silver sparkles stitched randomly over it. The trousers had a subtle pinstripe, and made his legs looks miles long. He was tall, and appeared even taller from his platform shoes and top hat.

He strolled in front of the table, facing Kurt and Santana with a grin. His make-up was as bold as his clothes, heavy black eyeliner making his blue eyes more intense, and gloss over his full lips. "Sorry I'm late. People kept stopping me on the street asking if they could take their picture with me."

"Yeah, 'cause you look frickin' badass," Dana chirped from the stage, suddenly quite alert and excited.

"Thanks," Starchild gave a good natured shrug, seeming confident instead of cocky. "I did design and sew this costume myself."

"Oh," Santana cooed, leaning forward, and picking up her pen to jot a note on her clipboard.

Kurt almost rolled his eyes. The guy came late, and had already dazzled two lesbians with his steampunk-inspired get-up. It took more than that to impress him. "It's a little Project Runway - Season six," he said dismissively, and felt a pang of satisfaction when Starchild's grin dimmed a little. "Have you prepared a song?"

"Yeah, of course," Starchild said, turning to get on to the stage. "It's by one of my favorite artists, somebody that always inspires me to be myself no matter what other people think."

It was an obvious dig at Kurt's criticism, so he just pinned on his best bitch face to watch the audition.

Starchild launched into Lady Gaga's song, 'Marry the Night', rocking it hard. Dani got right into it, smiling and bobbing her head. He was soon off the stage, working around the room. Hopping up to sit on the grand piano, dancing and strutting across the floor. Perching on the edge of their table, and singing right to Kurt. He was 100% committed to his performance, even crawling on the floor, flopping on his back and rhythmically thrusting his hips into the air as he belted the song out.

For the grand finale, Santana and Kurt watched in shock as he reached up to the chandelier, and letting it take his weight as he did a few spins with the last lines of the song. The crystals clinked together even after he let go, the large light fixture swaying still.

Santana sprung to her feet as soon as the music ended. "Yes! Bravo! I would not be embarrassed to share the stage with you."

Starchild grinned at her enthusiasm, thanking her and Dani for their compliments on his performance.

By then, Kurt had had enough. "Thank you for your time, Starchild, but it's not a fit." Again, he felt a zing of satisfaction when Starchild's grin faded.

"Are you insane? I'm sorry, would you mind just stepping outside for a moment while I bitch-slap some sense into my friend?" Santana said, turning to Kurt in outrage.

Kurt spared her a quick glance before looking at the man on the stage, his mind even more firmly made up. "No, I don't need a minute. I've made my decision, all right? Your aesthetic is striking, Starchild but it's a little outré for the team that I'm assembling."

Starchild looked deflated, crossing his arms over his chest at the comments. Perhaps Kurt had been a little harsh. It hadn't been a bad performance, after all, just not what he was thinking of for this band.

"But if you're willing to tone down your look, uh, maybe I'd reconsider," Kurt added, wanting to leave things on a better note. And make sure Santana wouldn't kill him later in his sleep.

The man seemed to have recovered a bit from his shock, and opened his mouth to respond. But right then, there was an ominous creak from the ceiling, and the chandelier swayed without anyone touching it.

"Watch out!"

Kurt wasn't sure who screamed that, but everyone scrambled away from the stage and the centre of the room. Somehow, he found himself against the wall, covering his head and face with his raised arms, and peaking at the ceiling. He saw it happen almost like it was slo-mo. A crack appearing, the chandelier dropping, along with a chunk of ceiling. The heavy object crashed on to the hardwood floor with a deafening cacophony, making his ears ring for minutes afterwards.

It was chaos after that. The band and Santana grabbed their stuff and ran out of the room, so fast Kurt could swear they were just a blur. Before he could get his bearings, there was an older man at the doorway, huffing from running towards the loud noise. Kurt recognized him from being around the school, likely the head of the maintenance crew.

"What the fuck happened here?" he roared, glaring at the only people still in the room, Kurt and Starchild.

Kurt felt speechless with shock. He opened his mouth several times, but no words came out.

"That chandelier just came down and almost killed us, that's what happened!" Starchild shouted back, standing at his full height.

The caretaker glowered at them, his sharp eyes taking it all in. Two guys in their early twenties, one dressed up like a glittery goth and the other looking incredibly guilty. "We will see about that."

Kurt sighed. Time to face the music. "You might as well go, Starchild. Your audition is over."

The taller man glanced back at Kurt, a conflicted expression on his face, and then nodded. He walked over to pick up his top hat from where he had tossed it, brushing off a bit of glass, and soon left.

...

Kurt sighed as he saw a customer pick a table in his area. He gathered up a menu and carried it to the table. "Hello. Welcome to Spotlight. I'm Kurt. I'll be your chorus boy waiter today."

The lines rolled off his tongue automatically now, and he set the menu down before the man. "Uh, can I start you off with one of our signature orange freezes?"

"First, can I ask you something? Is this toned down enough?"

The odd question had Kurt looking up from his order pad, taking in the customer. He was a tall, slim man around his age. He was good-looking, with dark brown hair and a grey Henley tee. It took a second for recognition to sink in. "Oh, my God. Starchild."

"It's Elliott Gilbert, actually," the man said with a sheepish grin. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

Kurt's shock at seeing this man was rapidly turning to anger. The anger that had been burning inside him for days. Maybe even longer. "Yeah," he said, trying to appear normal. "Uh, I-I'm taking an intermission," he said to a nearby co-worker, and pulled Elliott out of his booth to march him outside. They needed some privacy. "Okay, um, that's how we say "I'm taking a break" here. And we have to say it. Otherwise we get fined."

He knew he was babbling, as he guided Elliott to the quiet space between the buildings. Trying to keep his feelings in check. "I'm so relieved to see you. I've been trying to find you since your audition-"

"The same. I-Hence my stalking you..." Elliott broke in, obviously wanting to launch into some big speech.

Kurt couldn't take it anymore. "I was trying to find you since you wrecked the rehearsal hall and I got stuck with the bill." The whole thing had been a complete disaster, and the college threatened to kick him out unless he covered the costs by the end of the year.

"You shouldn't have kicked me out! I could have argued that guy into believing it wasn't hung properly. That college should be paying us for putting us in danger!"

Elliott's response had Kurt seeing red. "Holy Fucking Crap! What world do you fucking come from, Starchild? There were many people who saw you swinging from that chandelier, you idiot."

The taller man gave him a condescending smile. "Chill out, man. Let me talk to the college. I'll sort it all out."

"The hell you will! You aren't a student there. You have nothing to lose. I do!" Kurt shouted back, Elliott's laid back attitude making him even angrier.

"Woah," Elliott said, holding his hands up, trying to calm Kurt down. "You are so wound up. This isn't the end of the world, man. Relax. We'll figure something out."

Kurt let out a loud huff. He was exhausted, from figuring out a payment plan with the college, and now working extra shifts at the diner. Still trying to keep up with all his classes. He didn't have time to relax. Or the money. He would love to go out to the bar with friends. But there was cover charge, drinks and taxis to pay, and New York wasn't cheap.

"Yeah, whatever," Kurt growled, still angry. "Well, I need to get back to work."

Elliott scoffed. "You are wound up so tight, that's the last thing you need."

"And you are an expert on what I need?" Kurt snapped.

"You need to get laid,dude," Elliott grinned back at him.

Kurt just rolled his eyes and marched back towards the diner entrance. "Thanks to you I can't afford to," he said dismissively, mostly just to himself. He didn't have the time, energy or money to go out these days. As a result, he hadn't hooked up with anyone for weeks and was missing that too.

...

-A/N: I just finished another Kelliott story (Finding My Beat) and this idea came up when messaging with a friend.

-The drafts are done, so I will be posting frequently. I think it will be 4 chapters long, around 10K words.

-Blaine: This AU assumes Blaine & Kurt did not get back together or engaged. They have been friendly & hooked-up once at Will and Emma's non-wedding, But that's it.