(no subject)
Title: The Sandbox Chronicles (14/?)
Chapter Title: Picture of the Past
Author: me
Rating: pg-13
Summary: It all started in a sandbox.
Disclaimer: i own noneeeee of this
Author's Notes: holy crap this one is short compared to the last two or three. *sigh* i think im too high on CAFFEINE. that and this chapter just didn't write itself. it gave me a huge headache. but i had to get through it. cuz im ready to write....somesmexysexytimes. haaahahaaa. but no really. im ready for them to kiss and make-up. im tired of writing angsty-ish stuff. or maybe that's just me being a whiny person tonight. idk. lol. anyways. thanks for all the lovely feedback/comments. it makes me smile like this :D! don't kill me for this update. the next one will be nice and long and....i wont give anything away. im getting the house to myself and have plenty of time to not have a life some more so i will definitely be getting some writing done. and it's giving me headache just thinking about whether or not i wanna go through the idol experience. i can't make up my mind :( and in this i know adam got the tattoo during top 36 idk about teh hair cuz i didnt follow shit until top 7 week (oops)
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
Part 9: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/467226.html#cutid1
Part 10: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/474838.html#cutid1
Part 11: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/489055.html#cutid1
Part 12: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/495336.html#cutid1
Part 13: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/500830.html#cutid1
.“I don’t know what to do, Abreea. He just comes back into my life like that and I’m freaking out,” Adam confides and Abreea pats him on the cheek affectionately.
“Oh honey, you’ll figure out something to do,” she says as she starts messing with Adam’s hair. “Are you sure want black with a blue streak?” she asks for the millionth time that afternoon. Adam groans and slides down into the chair.
She laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “You’re not helping me at all,” he pouts, arms crossed over his chest and feet propped up on the vanity table in front of him. He stares while she leaves, laughing, to get the mix ready for his hair.
After his tantrum with Neil he went back to the room. But he didn’t say a word to Kris. He kept his distance, ignored him, tried his hardest not to just break down right then and there and beg for Kris’ forgiveness. Instead of breaking he kept his cool and piddled around the room for something to do. Group pickings weren’t until late afternoon and he found himself having two hours to wait. It was only made worse when he and Kris were put in the same group.
Since group two doesn’t have rehearsals or any performing to do until next week, Adam decided to go out on the town. He wants to be as far away from Kris as possible. Kris tried to tag along but when Adam shot him down Kris frowned and nodded. Adam immediately felt bad about it but he still has too much to sort through; too many feelings to figure out.
Abreea comes back, bowl in hand, and shoves Adam’s feet to the floor. Smiling, she sets it down and stares at him long and hard. “Adam don’t do this again,” she says softly, “you remember what happened with Brad.”
“But that was different. I was in love with Brad. Kris was the one person for all those years that liked me for me and he became my best friend for a while.”
“What happened that was bad enough for you two to separate the past seven years?” she asks curiously and picks the bowl back up to get started on his hair. “You never told me. Just that it hurt.”
“It did. A lot,” Adam admits, eyes cast downward at his hands. He glares at his nail polish like it could do something other than be shiny and pretty, and he scoffs at himself for being so dramatic about everything.
“Well?”
“We got into a huge fight when I got back from Europe. It was blown way out of proportion. But Kris, he agreed with a comment I made about me being the queer theater kid and him being the wholesome good boy. It was so fucked up,” Adam sighs and meets her eyes in the mirror.
“Say what? He did that?” She tugs a little too hard on a section of hair and he winces. “Sorry.” She tugs more gentle and goes on. “You just let him walk out like that after what he told you?”
“I told him to go!” Adam cries and Abreea rolls her eyes.
“Adam, darling, have you talked to him?”
Adam’s pout only grows deeper and he huffs loudly. “No,” he grumbles. She smiles cheekily at him through the mirror. He rolls his eyes, sinks lower in the chair, and watches her work on his hair. “Fuck my life!”
Abreea can only giggle.
***
“I’m gonna talk to him. Tonight. As soon as he’s back.” Kris nods his head, pacing back and forth in the hotel room. “Yeah,” he mutters with a final nod.
He just doesn’t know how he is going to go about talking to Adam. He sort of tried this morning and he tried tagging along, quickly getting shot down by Adam. It hurt, a little, but what was he suppose to expect? Adam to just fall back into his life and be his best friend again? He knows that it isn’t that easy. If they could talk then maybe things will start to fit back together. Maybe.
As if on cue, the door opens and in strides Adam. Kris’ eyes widen at the new black hair, the blue streak, and what looks like a new tattoo on his wrist. He looks him up and down like Adam is suddenly different, well more different, and that his personality probably changed with the new additions. Kris stutters out a greeting, blushing immediately at how stupid it sounds. He runs a hand through his hair.
Adam is avoiding his eyes. Kris wants to say something, anything, to break the silence that has settled between them. What happened to the Adam that never shut up? The one that always had something to say, whether it was nice or snappy or smart or funny. Kris wants all these answers to all these things yet he can’t bring himself to ask any of it. Instead he settles for something simpler.
“Like the new hair,” then coughs behind it and scratches at the back of his head. It’s a nervous habit he picked up in the beginnings of his and Katy’s relationship when they first started realizing how much they liked each other. Only this, he thinks, is a different kind of nervous. This isn’t trying to tell a girl that you like them and want to take them on a date. This is trying to get your friend back into your good grace’s so you can start that relationship over again.
Hopefully.
“Thanks,” Adam mumbles and twists a ring around his finger.
Kris watches and the silence comes back, stretches on for what feels like forever. He can’t take it. He has to do something. So, taking a deep breath, he goes to his guitar case. He unzips the pocket on the front and reaches inside, grasping a familiar picture and pulling it out. He flips it over and smiles. It was taken sometime around the first year of their friendship. Kris has two missing front teeth, Adam has a major sunburn on his face, and they both look so dorky that it makes Kris embarrassed that he even wants to show Adam. But Kris has an arm around Adam’s waist because he was too short to reach the shoulders and Adam has an arm around Kris’ shoulders and they look happy.
Kris shyly holds it out to Adam, waiting. Adam stares warily and Kris can see the hesitance. “What’s this?” he asks as he takes the picture.
“Us barely a year after we met. It was taken at the sandbox,” Kris shrugs like it’s really no big deal but it actually is.
Kris watches Adam scan the picture carefully, something shining in those blue that Kris can’t quite name. A small smile quirks up a corner of Adam’s mouth as he traces the scene with a fingertip. Kris rocks on his heels and waits some more, hoping that this will make Adam see that Kris has always had faith in what they had and what he wants them to still have.
“I think my copy is still on the bookshelf in my mom’s room. I remember seeing it last time I visited,” Adam says quietly. Kris scrunches up his face: in the amount of time that he was Adam’s friend, Adam had never been this quiet. Especially over something this small.
“We need to talk, Adam. If we’re going to be roommates and group mates then we need to at least be civil.”
When Adam finally looks away from the picture Kris smiles. Adam swallows hard and hands the picture back to Kris. Kris takes it and lays it on his bed, not taking his eyes off of Adam. “Fine. We can try.” With that, Adam turns and disappears inside the bathroom.
Kris sits, deflating instantly. At least he got a ‘fine’. He was hoping for more, something bigger, but he will take what he can get at this point. He’s so over all of this. Being separated for so long, being scared to death that something had happened to Adam because they never kept in contact, never knowing what was going on in his life. His parents told him to just forget it, that one day he would find someone just as good as Adam, probably better, and as a result Kris didn’t talk to them for almost a week.
***
Kris is curled up under the covers sleeping by the time Adam comes out of the bathroom. He runs a hand through his hair, lets out a shaky breath. This is all too much. He’s never had to deal with this kind of thing. He doesn’t like not knowing what to do. He has always been so confident in dealing with things and then this happens and he freaks.
“You should get over yourself, Adam,” he mutters to himself as he flops onto his bed and shoves his face into a pillow.
He lays there, for how long he isn’t sure, and breathes into the pillow. He almost falls asleep but then Kris makes a snuffling noise in his sleep and shifts around. Adam freezes, afraid that Kris is waking up, but then there’s a soft sigh and some light snoring and Adam sighs. He turns his head away from the pillow and that picture catches his eye. It is resting underneath the lamp turned on low sitting on the chest-of-drawers.
If only they could be that age again, standing in that sandbox with that bucket of dinosaurs, the sun shining brightly on the perfect day.
If only they could be that happy again.