(no subject)
Title: The Sandbox Chronicles (9/?)
Chapter Title: Hair
Author: me
Rating: pg-13 (this part pg)
Summary: It all started in a sandbox.
Disclaimer: i own none of thissss :)
Author's Notes: of course, once again, thank you all so much for lovely feedback/comments. this one is about the same length as the last one. after this one it's gonna speed up a little cuz im gettin' tired of writing them at this age. it's time for katy to come into the picture and some other stuffz to happen. :) i dont really like this one. nothing too eventful happens. it's more of a filler chapter i guess you could say. hmm. lj cut hates me but i fixed it
Part 1: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/390471.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/393316.html#cutid1
Part 3: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/398624.html#cutid1
Part 4: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/405456.html#cutid2
Part 5: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/414654.html#cutid1
Part 6: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/423438.html#cutid1
Part 7: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/432194.html#cutid1
Part 8: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/458045.html#cutid1
When Kris makes it home safely, he retreats to his room as soon as possible. He doesn’t unpack right away. He doesn’t talk to Daniel about how much things have changed in San Diego already. He doesn’t talk to his parents about his trip and if he had fun or not. He just really doesn’t want to talk at all.
The trip to the airport had been awkward and the car filled with a tense silence that would be broken by one of the adults every couple of minutes. But those times that they didn’t speak, Kris couldn’t help but to wish that someone would hurry up and speak. Adam never looked at Kris until Kris was about to board the plane. Then they hugged quick and barely touching before he practically ran out of sight.
Now he feels stupid and selfish and wrong about treating Adam this way. He can’t believe that he, Kris Allen, would do something like that to someone he has always considered a best friend. Sure he didn’t say anything out loud directly to Adam, but he thought things that would put him in the group of people that judged Adam all the time, not matter what.
“Kris, honey, are you okay?”
Kris groans and flops onto the bed face first. His mom hums out a sigh before granting herself entry. She sits next to him, strokes his hair that’s gotten too long and too furry. “Mom, I’m fine,” he answers quietly.
“If you’re fine then how come you haven’t spoken a word since you got home, until now?” She raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at Kris, who just groans again and shoves his face in his pillow. “What happened sweetie?” Kris mentally curses that mother’s intuition. Sometimes it really sucks to have a mother that knows almost everything.
“I can’t talk about it, Mom,” he mumbles, voice muffled by the pillow.
She sighs, again, and scoots closer until she’s grabbing Kris by the shoulders and hauling him into a sitting position. He whines that he’s not a cripple and he can sit up himself, but she ignores it. “Talk to me, Kristopher,” she says softly. Her tone isn’t demanding, nor chiding or pressing. She’s just waiting patiently and it makes Kris’ eyes water.
“I…I walked in on something that I didn’t mean to walk in on,” he admits, finally, and she clucks her tongue. “I didn’t mean to, I swear!”
“What was it?”
Kris’ cheeks heat up in embarrassment almost immediately. How can he tell his mom that he walked on in something totally…not for a fourteen year old to see? “I can’t tell you,” he decides to say. She rolls her eyes and Kris wants to laugh: he’s never seen his mom roll her eyes at anything, except maybe his dad’s lame jokes he cracks sometimes.
“Oh come on, Kris. It can’t be that bad can it?”
Oh you have no idea, Kris thinks to himself. His cheeks heat up even more if possible and he can feel it spreading down his neck where it disappears into the collar of his t-shirt. “Moommm,” he whines loudly and drops back to the pillow. He shoves his face into the fluffy fabric.
“Alright, fine. Be that way,” she jokes and makes to get up.
Kris just huffs into the pillow.
***
They hardly talk about it in any conversation.
Kris is pretty grateful for that and often finds himself having completely forgotten about it. But then Adam will start going on and on about some cute boy he saw at the mall or at the movies, and Kris squeezes his eyes closed and pretends like he’s not seeing Adam all spread out with a cute brunette on his knees.
“Kris? Krissy, you there?”
Kris pops his eyes open, another one of those times, and he lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah. Sorry. Got distracted,” he says and makes himself listen.
Adam has been going on about the “Hair” auditions. He has made it through all the callbacks so far. He’s just waiting for that one last call back, the one that will either get him a part in the musical or leave him at home in San Diego. Kris is ecstatic for his friend, really, but at the same time he’s tired of hearing about it.
What’s so great about “Hair” anyways? he wonders to himself.
It’s Adam’s shocked silence that has Kris realizing he wondered out loud and Adam heard it. “Adam, no, I me-ugh never mind,” he groans, slapping a hand over his face.
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone. Go back to your freakin’ fantastic life in Conway!” On that dramatic note, the phone line goes dead.
Kris stares at the phone, the dial tone a buzz in his ear, jaw agape. With a frustrated scream he slams the phone down onto the kitchen table. The bowl of cereal sitting in front of him gets neglected as he pushes it aside, milk sloshing onto the table. The teenage in him emerges and he huffs dramatically.
Instead of going to moan and groan to whoever will listen, Kris snatches the phone up and hit’s the redial button. He waits, tapping his toes on the hardwood floor impatiently, as the phone rings and rings.
Just when he thinks the voicemail is going to pick up, the phone stops ringing and there’s a sigh on the other end. “Yes?”
“Adam, quit being a butt. You’re being over-dramatic about everything,” Kris exhales once before going on, “I want to be able to talk to my best friend without hearing everything about some cute guy or the auditions.
I’m happy for you, I am, but crap, Adam!”
There’s a long moment of silence that seems to stretch on forever. Kris’ mind is reeling with what he just said to Adam. He’s usually not a mean or outgoing or straightforward person but this time it needed to be said. He can’t go on listening to Adam brag about how good his life is getting and seemingly not giving a crap about Kris’.
“Fine. I’m sorry. What do you want to talk about?”
That isn’t Adam’s voice. Not the Adam Kris knows anyway. This voice is mechanical, too responsive to the burst of anger Kris felt for just that moment. He growls and Adam takes in a breath on the other end.
“Adam, if you’re still whining and freakin’ out about what happened that day, then get over it! I don’t care that you’re gay and that you obviously have some kind of…some kind of sex life. I don’t care.”
Kris eyes his bowl of cereal, glaring at it intently because there’s no one else around for him to glare at. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that maybe he is going insane. He doesn’t care.
“Okay, Kris. Chill out, damn,” Adam replies.
Kris’ heart sinks. He didn’t expect Adam to be so…so not-Adam. The Adam he knows would fire back a comment that would make Kris want to either cry or laugh or both. The Adam he knows would apologize profusely, for the millionth time, until Kris tells him to shut up.
“Adam-” Kris starts but then stops. He’s not sure what he is suppose to say. “Never mind,” he finally sighs.
“I have to go. Gotta practice some more,” Adam says.
“Call me l-”
Kris doesn’t get to finish his sentence before a dial tone greets his ears.
***
Adam taps his foot nervously on the floor.
The final cast list will be posted in five minutes. He can’t help but to be nervous about this. He has put his all into these auditions for over a month. He wants this and he wants it bad. It’s his time to finally shine and show people what he is really made of.
“Adam, come on! They’re posting it!”
Adam bolts off the chair he was sitting in and follows one of his fellow actors. His name is Nick and they became friends pretty fast. Adam smiles nervously at Nick, who smiles back and claps Adam on the back.
“You’ll do fine. You’re amazing,” Nick gushes.
Adam chews on his bottom lip while the crowd in front of the cast list pushes and shoves past the PA posting the list. He stands back, deciding he doesn’t want to be trampled. Nick stands with him, talking to him and keeping him grounded.
After a few squeals from girls and a manly hugs shared between some of the guys, the crowd disperses enough for Adam to make it to the list. He ignores a huddled group of girls crying in a corner and, taking a deep breath, glances down the list of names and who got what character.
Nick suddenly yells out in excitement and Adam sees Nick’s name as one of the leading roles. Adam smiles at his friend then goes back to looking for his own name. He slides the tip of his finger down the list, frowning the farther down he gets and doesn’t see his name. But then, near the bottom, he sees it.
Adam Lambert.
He grins, barely even registering the name of his character. He’ll have to look it up later but he knows enough about the musical to know that his character sings “My Conviction.” He turns to Nick, grin growing wider, and they share a hug.
“Come on! Let’s go celebrate!” Nick suggests enthusiastically. Adam nods and rummages around in his pockets for his cell so he can call his family.
***
The club is packed but Adam holds onto Nick’s jacket for dear life. After tons of ribbing about being a spoil sport and bribing that hot guys would be there, Adam finally gave in and let Nick drag him to the club.
Luckily for Adam the bouncer didn’t ask for I.D. considering he’s underage and not even allowed to come into clubs like this unless he is twenty-one. But the guy got one look at Nick, smiled, and ushered them through the red rope separating the open door from the crowd. Nick had only laughed at the shocked expression on Adam’s face.
“Hey there’s the bar. You want anything?” Nick asks right in Adam’s ear.
Adam blushes but shakes his head. “Not right now. Gonna scope out the room,” he says with a wink and a grin.
Nick shakes his head, laughing as he heads for the bar. Adam watches him push and shove through the crowd, and he stops to talk to a group of guys and girls. Adam sighs. He might as well find somewhere to go. That in mind, he sets off for the set of stairs he saw when they walked in. He has to push, squeeze, and all but shove his way to the stairs but he finally makes it and heads up the winding staircase.
It’s a little more subdued upstairs. The music is still pounding, the bass still shaking the floor, but there’s less people. There aren’t bodies pressed together dancing or people drinking and acting crazy. Up here there are couches and coffee tables, another bar that’s smaller than the main one, and doors branching off into what he can only assume are for “private parties.”
Adam takes a seat on an empty couch. He looks around at the small groups of people sitting on the other couches, some leaning against the railing and watching the crowd of dancers and partiers.
He isn’t sure how long he sits on the couch just people watching when Nick finally finds him. He’s holding a joint, reeks of smoke and alcohol, and Adam scrunches his nose up. “Dude, you reek,” he points out.
Nick giggles and ungracefully plops down next to Adam. He shoves the join in Adam’s face but Adam wrinkles his nose up farther and declines.
“Having fun?” Nick asks, giggling profusely afterwards. He falls to the side, nearly landing in Adam’s lap.
Adam, shaking his head, pushes Nick back up and pats his shoulder.
“You’re wasted aren’t you?”
“Yep!”
Adam watches Nick laugh at absolutely nothing, stopping in between giggles to suck on the joint some more. Adam waves the smoke away, glances at the glass of alcohol in Nick’s other hand, then reaches for it. “Gimme.” He snatches the glass away and downs in it two swallows.
“Damn, Lambert. Thought you didn’t want anything?” Nick’s eyes go wide but then he dissolves back to a giggling mess.
Adam slams the glass down on the table in front of them. “This day has been too good! Let’s go party,” Adam stands, then hauls Nick up by the wrist. He leads them both down the stairs and through all the people until they’re on the dance floor.
***
It’s almost two in the morning when Adam stumbles through the front door. Neil is watching TV in the living room and Adam doesn’t even try to sneak past. Neil will just tattle anyway when their parents get up.
“Adam, are you drunk?” Neil asks, amusement in his tone of voice.
Adam wobbles his way into the living room, almost falling flat when he trips over the rug. He falls onto the couch next to his brother, leans on Neil’s shoulder, and stares him in the face. “Yes, little brother, I aammm.”
“Well, it’s your funeral. G’night!” Neil stands up, letting Adam fall sideways onto the couch.
“Neiiilllll,” Adam whines drunkenly. Neil rolls his eyes and continues for the stairs.
Adam sighs heavily and curls up on the couch, a stupid smile on his face. He has had what he considers one of the best days of his life. He gets to go on a six month European tour for a major musical. He gets to spend all that time with people he’s already grown to know and become friends with. He can’t wait for it all to start.