Crossing the Line/O.T.T.
Title: Crossing the Line/O.T.T. (Part 1/?)
Author: cunningdeb
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: adam/kris
Summary: Set between the Idol finale and the start of the summer tour. Adam gets too much attention from a few of his “adoring” fans
Disclaimer: I do not own the people involved. This story does not depict the majority of Adam’s fans - idea brought on by stalker incident in Tampa.
Warnings: language, angst, violence, anxiety issues. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE TRIGGERS. I don’t know if it’s classified as non-con but Adam didn’t want the kind of attention he was given - recalled in conversation, remembrances.
Not sure how many parts - initially six but keeps morphing and growing during editing so I don’t want to commit just yet. Some parts will be longer than others - trying to create cliffhangers.
PART ONE
“What do you mean you lost him?”
Kris had just finished unpacking in his hotel room and was outside their tour manager’s suite when he heard the yelling.
“How the hell did that happen?”
Not hearing another voice, Kris assumed the conversation was over the phone. Someone was being cursed out royally. He didn’t know who; he was just glad it wasn’t him.
Rehearsals were starting tomorrow and the Top 10 were returning to LA. Having finished their press tour after the finale, Adam had returned first and Kris followed a week later, able to squeeze in a quick visit to Conway.
“Incompetent jackass! You better find him before the press gets a hold of this!”
Something smashed against the inside of the door as a stream of cursing bounced off the walls. Kris decided he’d come back later.
--*--
Locked. Locked. Locked.
“Damn it, open up - please open up!”
Locked. Crash. Clatter.
“Oh God, help me.”
“I heard something! In the alley!”
--*--
Everyone was now accounted for at the hotel except Adam. He had left earlier in the morning for a costume fitting that had ended two hours ago. Their manager had been sequestered in his suite the entire time, calling all over the Greater Los Angeles area.
Gathering in Scott and Matt’s room, the Idols caught up. Danny asked where Adam was and Kris told him Adam was at a costume fitting. It wasn’t exactly a lie; that’s where Adam was…at least the last time anyone saw him.
The rest of them were oblivious to the simmering situation but by the raising volume coming out of the room four doors down, that wouldn’t last long.
--*--
Sandwiched between a dumpster and dirty brick wall, Adam cowered down, hoping to loose himself in the shadows. He could hear them coming. Quickly he reached out for a collapsed cardboard box and laid it over himself, further blending in to the surrounding garbage. They were nearly on top of him.
“Do you see him?”
“Where is he?”
“We can’t let him get away!”
“Find him!”
A loud bang echoed from the end of the alleyway.
“There! I think that’s him. Hurry! Hurry!”
A stampede of feet rushed pas. Adam peered around the box and saw them disappear around the corner. He was afraid to move. What if they came back? He crouched there, shaking, counting the minutes until he felt they were long gone.
Cautiously, he set aside the cardboard and came out from his shelter. Moving into the middle of the filthy alley, he started jogging back the way he came, head swiveling, eyes darting in every direction.
From behind, a voice rang in the afternoon air.
“He must still be back there.”
Why the hell won’t they leave me alone!
--*--
“Do any of you know where Adam might go - his friends, what clubs he hangs out at - anything?” Their manager’s anger had cooled off and now his voice was tinged with concern.
A few names of people and places were tossed about. They all took out their phones and called around, called Adam. No answer, just voice mail.
“Hi, you’ve reached Adam. I’m out making my dreams come true. Leave a message.” Beep.
--*--
Locked. Locked. Open.
Adam fell into the dim room. He slammed the door shut, hands splayed and hot cheek resting upon its cold metal surface. Calming down slightly, he scanned the room for something to block the entrance. The space was lined in storage shelves and a stack of wooden crates leaned precariously nearby. Adam took the tower down and rebuilt it in front of the door.
Hopefully, it would be strong enough.
He leaned against a bare wall and slid to the ground, dropping his head into his hands. Adam’s heart was racing; he was sure it would burst out of his chest at any moment. How did this happen? How could he let this happen? He ran his hands down his face, covering them in make up and dirt - or something worse. Adam’s heart pounded in his head, his ears, his chest. Was this the life he had desired for so long? Could this be what it was really all about? If it were, then…
A flickering light blinded him. Adam raised his hand to his eyes. Through his fingers, he watched the high beam move away. He lowered his hand and found himself staring into the end of a shotgun.
tbc
Author: cunningdeb
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: adam/kris
Summary: Set between the Idol finale and the start of the summer tour. Adam gets too much attention from a few of his “adoring” fans
Disclaimer: I do not own the people involved. This story does not depict the majority of Adam’s fans - idea brought on by stalker incident in Tampa.
Warnings: language, angst, violence, anxiety issues. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE TRIGGERS. I don’t know if it’s classified as non-con but Adam didn’t want the kind of attention he was given - recalled in conversation, remembrances.
Not sure how many parts - initially six but keeps morphing and growing during editing so I don’t want to commit just yet. Some parts will be longer than others - trying to create cliffhangers.
PART ONE
“What do you mean you lost him?”
Kris had just finished unpacking in his hotel room and was outside their tour manager’s suite when he heard the yelling.
“How the hell did that happen?”
Not hearing another voice, Kris assumed the conversation was over the phone. Someone was being cursed out royally. He didn’t know who; he was just glad it wasn’t him.
Rehearsals were starting tomorrow and the Top 10 were returning to LA. Having finished their press tour after the finale, Adam had returned first and Kris followed a week later, able to squeeze in a quick visit to Conway.
“Incompetent jackass! You better find him before the press gets a hold of this!”
Something smashed against the inside of the door as a stream of cursing bounced off the walls. Kris decided he’d come back later.
--*--
Locked. Locked. Locked.
“Damn it, open up - please open up!”
Locked. Crash. Clatter.
“Oh God, help me.”
“I heard something! In the alley!”
--*--
Everyone was now accounted for at the hotel except Adam. He had left earlier in the morning for a costume fitting that had ended two hours ago. Their manager had been sequestered in his suite the entire time, calling all over the Greater Los Angeles area.
Gathering in Scott and Matt’s room, the Idols caught up. Danny asked where Adam was and Kris told him Adam was at a costume fitting. It wasn’t exactly a lie; that’s where Adam was…at least the last time anyone saw him.
The rest of them were oblivious to the simmering situation but by the raising volume coming out of the room four doors down, that wouldn’t last long.
--*--
Sandwiched between a dumpster and dirty brick wall, Adam cowered down, hoping to loose himself in the shadows. He could hear them coming. Quickly he reached out for a collapsed cardboard box and laid it over himself, further blending in to the surrounding garbage. They were nearly on top of him.
“Do you see him?”
“Where is he?”
“We can’t let him get away!”
“Find him!”
A loud bang echoed from the end of the alleyway.
“There! I think that’s him. Hurry! Hurry!”
A stampede of feet rushed pas. Adam peered around the box and saw them disappear around the corner. He was afraid to move. What if they came back? He crouched there, shaking, counting the minutes until he felt they were long gone.
Cautiously, he set aside the cardboard and came out from his shelter. Moving into the middle of the filthy alley, he started jogging back the way he came, head swiveling, eyes darting in every direction.
From behind, a voice rang in the afternoon air.
“He must still be back there.”
Why the hell won’t they leave me alone!
--*--
“Do any of you know where Adam might go - his friends, what clubs he hangs out at - anything?” Their manager’s anger had cooled off and now his voice was tinged with concern.
A few names of people and places were tossed about. They all took out their phones and called around, called Adam. No answer, just voice mail.
“Hi, you’ve reached Adam. I’m out making my dreams come true. Leave a message.” Beep.
--*--
Locked. Locked. Open.
Adam fell into the dim room. He slammed the door shut, hands splayed and hot cheek resting upon its cold metal surface. Calming down slightly, he scanned the room for something to block the entrance. The space was lined in storage shelves and a stack of wooden crates leaned precariously nearby. Adam took the tower down and rebuilt it in front of the door.
Hopefully, it would be strong enough.
He leaned against a bare wall and slid to the ground, dropping his head into his hands. Adam’s heart was racing; he was sure it would burst out of his chest at any moment. How did this happen? How could he let this happen? He ran his hands down his face, covering them in make up and dirt - or something worse. Adam’s heart pounded in his head, his ears, his chest. Was this the life he had desired for so long? Could this be what it was really all about? If it were, then…
A flickering light blinded him. Adam raised his hand to his eyes. Through his fingers, he watched the high beam move away. He lowered his hand and found himself staring into the end of a shotgun.
tbc