There And Back Again
TITLE:There and Back Again
PAIRING Adam/Kris
WORD COUNT 11300
RATING PG13 for some language and a sex scene (ish)
SUMMARY For ontd_ai 's dollar drive for Haiti. For kradamite and ravenarrow They both selected a prompt off of my list: Kradam: Adam is the one who ends up in a career doldrums while Kris becomes über successful, Adam ends up teaching voice lessons in the Midwest, Kris ends up divorced, unhappy, and looking for Adam...Also for bubby_wubby who donated money and said just put my name on a fic. It, ah, got longer than I thought.
WARNINGsome angst. some fluff.
DISCLAIMER Not real depictions of anyone at all.
thank you katekat1010 for another amazing poster!
Once upon a time Adam Lambert was the great gay hope. He hadn't realized it at first, trying out for Idol. Who knew the dreams of an entire community were going to rest on his shoulders just because of an epiphany he had at Burning Man? But somehow Adam had gone from theater kid just trying to make it in the business to public figure for everyone else but himself.
Maybe that's what happened. The album had sold really well to start off. But sometime between the AMAs and the Rock My Town concert a downward spiral had been triggered. Adam couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but the disastrous affair with the soap opera guy had not helped one bit.
Somehow, five years after Idol, Adam Lambert was a where are they now special, teaching vocal lessons in the Midwest as well as coaching theater. No one knew him here, and that's the way he preferred it.
But every time he walked into a store, there was Kris's face, rumors of a drug habit, a nasty divorce and all the other things that came with massive fame. Adam had changed his number, not wanting to face his friends as a complete failure, but he still got the urge to dial Kris's, although he had probably changed it by now. Stalkers and everything. So Adam never called.
But he wanted to.
Sometimes.
Mostly he spent his days alone, and wrote songs when he wasn't teaching, or watching television. He was addicted to Entertainment Tonight because it was the only way he got news of his old friends. That, and Twitter. He wasn't obsessed or anything, but he couldn't call them. He liked his anonymity.
He liked walking around a city that may have known him once but didn't give a fuck now. He liked walking up and down the aisles of a grocery store and not worrying that if he picked up too many bags of potato chips that he was going to be accused of bulimia or depression or some other mental health issue. He liked teaching. He loved teaching. That's what he told himself, whenever he got nostalgic for the old days.
After the label dropped him, he spent three months shopping himself around. When he realized no one wanted him anymore he got very drunk and stayed that way for a week. So two years after Idol, he was out of options. He briefly considered returning to the theater, but he knew it was a younger man's game. So he researched and found the most remote college he could find, somewhere in Minnesota, let his hair grow out, and went back to school. Two years and an associate's degree later, he felt safe enough to wander to a city.
He made a deal with the music store owner. They knew his real name, but he went by another. All the legal documents were correct, but here he was Mr. Mitchell and no one was wiser. Except the music store owner. And the super. And the principal of the school where he coached theater. It was three people too many, but he had been here almost a year and he was starting to shed the nervousness he had felt since he had decided to go into hiding. He was beginning to feel like he belonged again.
Adam slipped his coat on, shivering as he remembered his first winter here, glad he didn't have to drive to the music store. A lot of people had looked askance at him, and asked if he was worried. He laughed. He had lived in LA. Dayton, Ohio was a lot of things, but dangerous for someone like Adam was not it.
"Hey, Nina," he said once he walked into Hauer's, leafing through the sale music briefly since he was early.
She was reading one of the gossip magazines. US Adam thought, fondly remembering the interview before tour. He often wondered why Nina hadn't recognized him, but there were days when he didn't recognize himself.
He climbed the stairs to the studios, thinking. He wore jeans and t-shirts. Sometimes suits. He still was a little fashion forward for his location, but certainly a lot more conservative than he had ever imagined himself. Especially the sneakers. He had bought them on impulse, seeing them on sale. It was stupid really, because they were a daily reminder of everything he had left behind.
But he had chosen a fresh life, and that meant a clean break. The only people who knew where he was was his family. And even then his mom only had a phone number and a PO Box. It was better that way.
Four students and a cancellation later, he walked back to his apartment, Nina's magazine tucked under his arm. The cancellation meant he could take a long lunch and read about the life he didn't miss.
Mostly didn't miss.
He paused at the cover. Former Idol Marriage in Trouble? Sources Say Yes! Adam was wary, but it was US not one of the other magazines. US was pretty reliable. He idly flipped the pages, trying to calm himself. It was on page thirteen, a small blurb in the right hand corner.
Rumors about the Allen marriage have been flying since the very beginning, but representatives of both Kris and Katy Allen have confirmed that the pair's marriage is in shambles and a divorce is pending. No word on circumstances.
Adam swallowed. Kris had been there for him for every break up. Even the soap opera guy. (Adam refused to even think of him by name. It was that shameful). His hands hovered over his phone, but he wanted to wait. Maybe their problem would resolve itself.
Adam tried to tell himself he didn't care about them anymore, but if one thing had pervaded his life here in Ohio it was the extensive loneliness he felt. He had friends here, but there was always that wall, because he was essentially hiding, so he couldn't talk about his family, or his past, except that he didn't want to talk about it and that made most conversations awkward and stilted. So Adam spent most of his nights with his music, or the computer, or the TV, and learning piano.
The music was when he missed them most, remembering the mansion, and the tour. The secret swapping of their albums, and the excitement the day they came out. The ability to call someone who understood losing a lyric, or to just sit and not say anything but still be understood.
Those days were the ones Adam almost broke, when he lay in bed and wondered if he'd made the right decision after all. But he remembered there were worse things than disappearing: there was hanging-on, or being looked at as if you were a lower form of life, and he was, because he was a has-been, a failed experiment, and he had let his people down.
He had after all, been the great gay hope.
*
The news was confirmed by three more magazines as well as the television, where Katy was caught walking out of a store by TMZ, and her wedding ring wasn't there. She looked sad, but not devastated. Adam spent an hour with his phone in his hand and dialed the old number, hoping that it hadn't changed, and that Kris would answer despite the unfamiliar number.
"This is Kris's phone, Cale speaking."
"Cale. Let me talk to Kris."
There was silence for a minute. "Is this who I think it is?"
"Yes. I want to talk to him."
He heard Cale yell for Kris, and tell him that this was a call he had to take.
"Hello?"
Adam closed his eyes. He hadn't heard Kris's voice live in a long time, except the one time he had bought tickets to a concert and walked out after the first song, because seeing Kris onstage had made him want to weep.
"Hi Kris."
"Adam?" It was barely a whisper.
"Yeah."
"I-I don't know what to say."
Adam smiled. "Don't say anything."
"I want to ask so many questions."
"And I probably won't answer them. Look, Kris, I saw everything on the news and I wanted to know if everything was okay."
There was a long pause, and Kris cleared his throat. "Yeah. I mean, not a lot of people know this, but we've basically been separated for a year. This was really just a formality. But thank you for calling. It means a lot. I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"Does this mean I get to worm my way back into your life, wherever that is?"
"No. I can't Kris. I have a life here, and a world famous rock star might unbalance that."
"Can I ask one question?"
The tone of Kris's voice was so plaintive, and Adam could imagine the look in his eyes. "Fine."
"Are you happy? With whatever it is you are doing?"
Adam let out a breath. "Yes."
"Good. I'm putting your number in my phone. Just in case. Will you answer if I call? If it's important?"
"Of course I will. As long as you do the same."
They said their goodbyes and hung up. It wasn't as painful as Adam thought it would have been, the conversation.
Except lying in bed that night, he began to realize that he missed Kris more than he thought. That perhaps he wasn't as happy as he thought he was. But it was all he had.
Once upon a time, he had dreamed. Now he just lived.
*
One year later
It was Entertainment Weekly that clued Adam in the next time. There was a short video of Kris at a concert, breaking down and weeping. So Adam did what any normal friend would do, He YouTubed it. The audience was screaming encore and Kris came out with his guitar.
Adam could already tell from his face that something was wrong.
"Hey everyone. I don't usually do encores, but today was a really hard, and I have a song that pretty much encompasses everything I'm feeling right now. So I hope you like it."
Adam didn't recognize it at first. He had purposely avoided his own music, but as soon as Kris started the first line, the crowd rumbled, and hushed as Kris's voice stretched over the music, aching in ways that Adam had thought were even impossible for this song. Kris's face was scrunched up and there were already tears there, his voice hoarse and breaking. Adam gripped the edge of his table to keep himself from touching the screen. Even so he was already crying himself, seeing Kris completely deconstruct in front of all those people. Kris reached the last chorus, the audience silent except for a few whispered sobs, and his voice warbled on lines "It messed me up/ need a second to breathe", the final "whataya want from me" barely spoken. The lights went down then, but the video kept rolling and Adam could see Kris in the darkness, leaning over his guitar, his shoulders shaking. The video ended there, but Adam stared at the screen, horrified at what he had just witnessed.
He picked up his phone and dialed. There was nothing. Not even a voice message. Just a "leave a message at the tone" in a strange robot voice that he did not understand. He didn't talk to the air.
He sat up all night worrying, even calling his mom, but she hadn't heard anything. Kris's mom Tweeted about him lying low for awhile, and Adam hoped for the best, but hopes and dreams weren't exactly his forte anymore.
*
It was a week later when he opened his door and saw Kris, unshaven, sloppy and perfect sitting on his couch.
"Kris? What the hell?"
Kris's eyes widened as he took in Adam's appearance, then sighed. "I don't even get a hug?"
Adam closed the door behind him and locked it, fighting between anger and giddiness. "How the hell did you find me?"
"I may or may not have conned your mom into telling me what city you were in. Then I looked up music teachers. Lucky guess that one. I may have followed you home from work one day. And then I found your super, who knows who you are, and therefore knows who I am, and paid him a ridiculous amount to not tell anyone I was here, and got a key."
"You could have called."
"So could have you."
There was a bite to Kris's tone, and Adam could tell that Kris was on edge, perhaps looking for a fight. But Adam didn't want to fight Kris. Not now. If ever.
"I did, but I got voice mail. You should know that."
"I was afraid if I called you wouldn't let me come."
Kris seemed small then, almost disappearing into Adam's couch.
"Kris, what happened?"
"Is it okay if I don't talk about it yet?"
Adam nodded.
"Does this mean I can stay for a bit?"
"Did you think I was just going to kick you out? The look you're sporting now is enough of a disguise. If growing out my hair and wearing jeans all the time has kept me hidden all this time, grimy sweatpants and a beard should be good for you."
Kris smiled then, a small uplift of one corner of his mouth. Adam wanted to reach out, but he had forgotten how in all their time apart. Kris stood.
"So where do I put my stuff?" He pointed to a small duffel bag, and of course, a guitar.
"Follow me. The guest room is kind of small and the mattress is lumpy, but it's better than sleeping in a car."
Adam heard Kris stop. "How-"
"Basic rule of hiding: don't fly. Most hotels don't take cash, so that means sleeping in your car. Right?"
"Yeah. It looks pretty good to me," Kris said when Adam waved him into the room.
"I have work at my other job until late, so you are on your own for dinner. Don't forget to eat, you look like you've lost weight."
"So have you."
"It's amazing what having little money will do for your diet, Kris." Adam clenched his hand, trying to stop the anger at how little Kris understood. "Anyway. I'm going to grab some things and get going."
He turned to leave and Kris called him back.
"Adam?"
"Yeah?"
Then Kris was in his arms, squeezing hard, head against his shoulder. Adam closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the strange familiarity of it. He let go reluctantly.
"Thank you for not kicking me out."
"Don't make me regret it. I like my life. So if you fuck it up…"
"Go do your thing. There's plenty of time to talk." Adam nodded.
*
The next two weeks were surreal at best. Adam went on with his life as normal, except his evenings were filled with Kris watching the TV in contemplation, or noodling on the guitar. He came home one day to find Kris leafing through his songbook, humming some of the tunes softly. They didn't really talk. At least about what had happened. It was nice, because they seemed to say everything in the way they sat, but it was frustrating, because Adam wanted to know what exactly had led to the moment Kris had broken, so he could fix it.
But they laughed. Adam had forgotten how much he could laugh. How much he had missed it. He didn't have a lot of close friends, because of the delicate balance of lies and truth he told everyone, so with Kris here he could tell stories from his day, or talk about the past, or ask about their friends and he didn't have to remember exactly what he had said at any given moment.
Kris came with him to the music store. Adam introduced him as a friend, and Nina whispered to him that she thought he had better taste. Adam laughed and said that he was just a friend, so she smiled and said hi to Kris. Kris for his part, ended up charming the two guitar guys into letting him play their prize guitar, doing complicated jazz riffs that both impressed and turned on Adam. He swallowed, trying not to remember the way Kris's hands had moved, and tried to concentrate on teaching lessons.
Before Adam realized it, it was three days before Halloween and Kris had been there for a month. The TV magazines speculated, and Kris's publicist said he was taking some private time away from the public eye. Ironically, some of them speculated that Kris was having a secret affair. Adam looked across the couch, Kris's legs spilling over the edge and his foot kicking idly. Even unshaven and slobby, Adam suspected there would be many who would take Kris up on it if they wanted.
"So what do you do for Halloween around here?"
Adam shrugged. "There's a big party. It's pretty intense. I mean not nearly as exciting as WeHo, but intense for Ohio."
"I wanna go."
"Not like that you aren't."
"I can be a lumberjack or something."
"I don't think so. Its one thing to hang out in the music store like that, but you come to Halloween? Where my reputation is at stake? No. I'm going to make you a costume and you are going to like it."
"Should I be scared?"
"No, but you will have to shave that thing off your face."
Kris sighed dramatically. "Oh the suffering I go through for your art."
"Hmmmm. I'll need money. I'm not buying it for you on my salary."
Kris gave him a look. Adam said nothing. Kris had slipped him money for the extra groceries and utilities, so Adam knew he was good for it. Adam returned from his shopping trip mostly satisfied. He had found pants and a shirt, along with a cape. He didn't have a mask or hat though. But the fake sword he had procured was fairly excellent.
"But how can I be Zorro without a mask?" Kris put a little whine into his voice, his eyes sparkling.
Adam shook his head. He was glad this Kris was back, but he also remembered that this Kris could be slightly aggravating.
"I have make-up for that. So go shower and shave and put the costume on, and we'll do that."
"What about you?"
"Just you wait."
Adam put his costume on, and was waiting patiently for Kris to be done so he could finish his hair.
"Adam, seriously?"
Kris walked out of the bathroom, looking…
Adam bit his lip. Maybe he had bought the clothes a little too small. The leather pants accentuated every curve, and the shirt clung to Kris's chest precariously, as if it were going to rip open if he breathed too deeply. And Adam couldn't stop staring at Kris's jaw, smooth and sharp. He had forgotten Kris's jaw, his bottom lip, his…
"Adam?"
Adam shook himself. It was not time to revisit his attraction to his best friend.
"You'll be fine. Trust me, most everyone will be wearing as little as possible. Go sit down. I have to do my hair."
"And you are supposed to be?" Kris took in Adam's clothes, his face scrunched up in thought. Then he shrugged.
"Okay. Go do your magic."
When Adam emerged from the bathroom, Kris grinned. "Oh. An elf. I always thought the ears were kind of hot."
Adam smirked. "Just sit in the chair and close your eyes, Allen."
Adam wiped the sponge over Kris's eyelid, always aware of the other eye staring steadily, and Kris's mouth, slightly open, his whole body, just within reach. Adam switched sides, but the gaze remained. After it was over, Kris's eyes were rimmed in black, tapering to points at the top of each ear. Adam nodded to himself and almost walked away, when Kris grabbed his wrist.
And said nothing, still staring at Adam, both of them breathing, neither of them stepping forward.
"Yes?" Adam said, proud that his voice was steady.
"I want to tell you. What happened to me. Later."
"I'm not sure I have enough alcohol."
Kris grinned. "We'll make do."
Still Adam stood there another few moments, wishing he had the right to run his hand along Kris's jaw and place a soft kiss on Kris's lips. He wished he didn't remember wanting that right. He settled for squeezing Kris's shoulder and smiling.
"Let's get this party started."
Kris eyes widened as he took in the scene, everything from girls in slutty store bought costumes to drag queens in little else but feathers and glitter to regular people who had put on camouflage pants and pretended that that was their costume. There was dancing and drinking, and if Kris was paying closer attention, Adam would guarantee he would see at least one sex act before the night was over.
"Adam!!!!"
Adam turned and smiled, watching as Batman and Robin approached him.
"Gavin! Fred! Good to see you!" He hugged them both. "This is my friend Kristopher. He's staying with me while he puts his life back together.
"Mmmmhmmmmmm," Gavin (Batman) said. "Nice to meet you Kristopher."
Kris shook both their hands. "So how long have you known Adam?"
"Since he first appeared at the most fabulous gay club in all of Dayton, oh about two years ago. He looked miserable and we chose him as our latest project," Fred sighed. "But he refuses to be in any sort of committed relationship. I just don't get it."
"Maybe some people aren't cut out for it," Kris said quietly and Adam almost took him home right then.
"Pffft. He's a serial monogamist if I ever saw one. But I'm pretty sure he's preoccupied right now," Fred winked.
Adam tried to interrupt, but Kris just blinked, and said. "Well, I try."
Both men burst out laughing at as Adam gaped slightly.
"Oh the Dynamic Duo, the Third Wheel, and who do we have here?"
A cowboy in very tight jeans joined them, eyeing Kris appreciatively. Kris stared back, not even blushing. Adam was kind of sad that he had lost that.
"My name is Kristopher. But you can call me Zorro."
"Andrew. But you can call me anything you'd like as long as it's just the two of us."
Adam stared as Kris stepped forward, looking Andrew up and down, and then laying a hand on Andrew's chest. "But there are people watching, so maybe we should stick to our names. Plus a true gentleman doesn't ditch his date."
"Adam finally is getting some? Miracles do happen."
Adam opened his mouth to speak again when Kris stepped back and put his arm around Adam's hip and pulled him close, his hand resting lightly on Adam's ass.
"You know what Adam? I haven't taken a real look around. Let's go see what there is to see. The air in here is getting pretty nasty."
Adam looked at Fred and Gavin, who looked at Kris speculatively as he led Adam away, but the one prize of the evening was Andrew's face, screwed up in concentration, trying to figure out whether or not he'd been insulted.
"Kris."
"Shut up okay? I was kind of making it up as I went along."
Adam laughed, throwing his head back. Kris's hand stayed where it was, but for some reason it didn't feel uncomfortable at all.
*
"I'm going to wash this stuff off. Don't run away, okay?"
Adam watched Kris walk to the bathroom and fell onto the couch. He had spent half the night amused, the other half…
"Why aren't you dancing?" Kris asked.
"Because you told everyone it's ungentlemanly to leave a date, and now everyone assumes you are my date, so if I go dance with someone else, I'll look like an ass." "You can dance with me."
Kris's eyes were unreadable as ever, his face serious.
Adam closed his eyes, thankful for the long loose tunic of his costume. Kris had been hesitant at first, but caught on surprisingly well, his hip locked into Adam's, his face set in concentration and sweat. Adam had stepped away, making excuses about feeling unwell, so Kris had walked him home.
He didn't feel unwell.
He had spent half the night with Kris's hand on his ass, or his hip, and topped it off with Kris Allen grinding against him, eyes wide and dark.
He felt horny.
"Is it a headache?"
Adam shook his head, leaning back as Kris's fingers massaged his temples. "No. I just wanted to get out of there anyway."
Kris walked around the couch. "Something's wrong."
"Maybe I don't want to talk about it. I thought you were the one who wanted to talk."
"Maybe. First, I want to show you something."
Adam opened his eyes. Kris's were no longer obscured by the black make-up mask, but still burned brightly. Adam had never seen that look from Kris, not that he could remember. He couldn't read it.
"Show me something?"
Kris nodded, and let out a breath. Adam watched, at first curious, then surprised as Kris leaned forward and kissed him. It was soft at first, just a brush of lips, then Kris put his hand on the couch and it intensified, Adam relenting to Kris's insistent tongue, but his hands still tight against his side.
"Kris-"
"I don't want to talk," Kris whispered against his lips.
"Me either."
Adam pulled Kris down so he was straddling Adam's lap, their chests pressing against each other, Kris's hands fisted in Adam's hair, his body slowly rocking against Adam's.
Adam groaned at the friction against his already tight pants, trying to stop Kris's frantic motion by putting his hands on Kris's hips, but Kris shook his head, his own hands on top of Adam's, peeling them off of his hips and lacing their fingers together. So Adam maneuvered Kris on to the couch, hoping to still him, at least long enough to understand how this was happening, and how the dream hadn't ended yet.
"Want… want.." Kris whispered, his breath hot in Adam's ears, his body arching as Adam grazed his teeth against Kris's collarbone.
"Patience," Adam whispered, a part of him screaming to stop, a part of him thinking this was still a dream, and the part in control just going with it, just letting it happen.
But Kris wasn't having any of it, wrapping his leg around Adam and pulling him down. Kris moved his hips upward, his head buried in Adam's shoulder, his body shuddering. Adam followed him, his own body taking control where he could not.
He laid his head next to Kris's.
"Something to show me?" he whispered.
Kris laughed a little. "Okay, not exactly how I planned that."
Adam propped himself up, noting Kris's lips were swollen and red, and faint bruises were already appearing on his neck. "I need more before this goes any further. But first I'm going to clean myself up, get in my pajamas and some alcohol."
Kris nodded. "Are we okay?"
"No. But we never were really okay, were we?"
*
Adam sat on the couch, feeling surprisingly calm about the whole night. Kris looked at him nervously at first, then seemed to remember it was Adam, and immediately settled.
"Where do I start? What do you know?"
"Besides the rumors and what's been printed? Nothing. Oh. And you broke down after a concert. Singing one of my songs."
"You saw that, then."
"Yeah. It… it was pretty brutal."
"I'm sorry. I-I was in a really bad place."
"I guessed as much."
Kris smiled at that. "Okay. I guess I should start with the divorce. The separation."
Adam nodded.
"I still love Katy. I think that's important to say. I'm just not in love with her, you know? It's funny, how it worked out. We both got our dreams and neither of us were happy. It was small things at first, and then I found myself in a hallway of our home yelling, both of us yelling for no reason. I guess we both grew so much, but we forgot to grow together. So we decided maybe we needed time apart."
Kris paused.
"What? What happened then Kris?"
Kris closed his eyes. "About six months in. There was a club."
"You wouldn't be the first celebrity who ever saw a stripper, Kris."
"A gay club."
"Oh."
Adam took a bite of his ice cream, not because he wanted it, but because he needed time to form a coherent opinion.
Kris smiled again. "Guess you didn't hear that one on TMZ did you? It's amazing what a publicist and money will do for you. It'll come out eventually. I don't care."
"You didn't do anything stupid?"
"Adam, please. It's me. Although, I, uh, may have, uh gone out on a date or two with one of your exes. Very quietly."
Adam paused again. "Seriously? Not Brad. Please not Brad."
"Oh no. He still kind of scares me. Jackson. The firefighter."
"Hmmmmmm, he had a tattoo-"
"I know."
"Oh."
"You keep saying that."
"You keep giving me information I don't suspect. You always had an amazing ability to surprise me."
"Anyway," Kris continued, "Katy confessed that she'd started seeing someone else too, and she had this smile on her face, and… We laughed about it. I mean, we cried, 'cause we did have something special, but we laughed because it was going to be easier than we thought. Letting go."
"So how did that lead up to the concert?"
Kris shrugged. "After the divorce I started dating again. Publicly, girls. Privately, a few guys that Jackson set me up with discreetly."
"And?"
"None of them were you."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Hard to tell your best friend you have a gigantic crush on him when he's in hiding. And I got to thinking about everything that had happened, and I felt so guilty for letting you disappear. Because I should have been there more."
"You were there plenty. I just chose to ignore it."
Kris shook his head. "But I thought maybe there was something I could have done. And I began to realize I was alone, had no idea where you were, and would probably be alone for the rest of my life. Add in that Katy has never been happier, and my publicist yells at me because there's another picture, of me and some guy at a restaurant. I just didn't want to care about that anymore. I was tired of being the poster boy for everything all American and good. I was tired of the label telling me how I should act and what I should wear and who I should date. I was tired of them expecting me to be this person that I just wasn't anymore. I was tired of trying to be so many different people."
Kris put his head down and stared into his lap. "I just wanted to be me again."
"I get that. I do."
"I know you do."
"The thing is, what do you plan on doing now?"
"I don't know." Kris laughed, but there were tears in his eyes. "I came here because I didn't know where else to go. Because with you, I've always been able to be me. And now I just…"
Adam nodded. 'Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, thinking.
"Maybe you should sleep on it. Think about things. I know I need to."
"Okay."
They sat there for awhile, and Adam finally broke the awkward silence by rising, walking over to Kris and kissing his forehead. Adam smiled.
"I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
Kris nodded. Adam walked away, still processing everything, and had just begun to drift off when there was a knock on his door.
"It's not a good idea, Kris," he mumbled.
But Kris walked in anyway, lying on top of the sheets, burying his head in Adam's back. "I don't want…not right now. I just…" his voice hitched. "I just..."
Adam turned, seeing the confusion in Kris's eyes. "Fine. But no funny business okay?"
Kris nodded once, and burrowed under the covers until he was curled into Adam, his warm breath against Adam's collarbone.
Adam ran his hand in slow circles up and down Kris's back. He had forgotten the warmth of another person, the comfort of another body next to his. Adam didn't think he would be able to sleep, but Kris's steady breathing seemed to soothe him, and he drifted off, for the first time in a long time, content.
*
"So I've been thinking."
Two days had passed. Both nights Kris had curled against Adam, both nights Adam had let him. They had kissed again. Adam had kissed Kris actually. The morning after, he had walked up to the bathroom door just as Kris was leaving, his hair sticking up everywhere and his eyes still sleepy.
Adam had pushed Kris against the door, his hands firm against Kris's shoulders. Kris had barely formed the beginning of a word that suspiciously sounded like what and Adam was kissing him, urgent and sloppy, heat and speed over taste and technique.
"Just so you know, I'm not saying I don't want it either. I just don't think it's a good idea."
Kris had nodded and walked away, slightly unsteady. They hadn't returned to normal, but somehow seemed to be beyond it, to be back to where they were on Idol and just a level more.
Adam shook his head back into the present. "You've been thinking?"
Kris nodded. "You like it here don't you? I mean, you really like your life? You're happy?"
Adam tilted his head. "Yeah. I like teaching. Shocking, I know." "This won't work then, will it? Because I can't hide like you. I ran a big risk just coming here."
Adam sighed and sat next to Kris on the couch. "Not really. I mean, I know I can't hide forever. But I just haven't figured out how to go back to LA yet. How to be me yet. Until then, this is good for me."
Kris nodded. "I thought so. I probably should sort my stuff out first before committing anyway. I want to talk to the label about going public."
Adam raised his eyebrows. "That's pretty heavy."
"I know. But when you come back, whenever that is, I just want you to know I'm going to ask you out. Several times. I don't want it to be a surprise to anyone."
Adam felt his face twitch as he tried not to burst into a large grin. "Okay. I might go with you on one too. Maybe."
"Asshole."
"And?"
Kris leaned his head against Adam's shoulders. "I have to confess something else."
"I'm pretty sure you couldn't surprise me any more than you already have."
"I didn't sleep with any of them."
"Oh."
Kris was faintly pink, which only made Adam want to hold him closer.
"So, uh," Adam cleared his throat, "when are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow. Early, so no one sees my pretty face."
"You will call me, right?"
"Every day if I can."
"Good."
Kris looked up at him. "If you needed me to come back, you would call, right? If you weren't happy or you wanted to leave, or just needed to see me?"
"Yeah. I would."
Kris nodded, and leaned again, his fingers lacing through Adam's. Adam squeezed Kris's hand and laid his head atop Kris's.
"Can I take your notebook with me? I really like a couple of the songs."
"Sure," Adam said. "Maybe people will start talking about the reclusive hermit songwriter rather than the missing washed up former superstar."
Kris laughed. "More likely they'll pester me to tell me where you are. But I'll say they arrived mysteriously in my mail, no postmark…"
And so the day went on as the others had, except for Adam's new awareness that his life had changed again, the delicate balance he had crafted disrupted, but not shattered. He kind of liked the change, even if it had been all too brief.
*
It wasn't until Nina asked where Kris was that Adam realized just how alone he had been. Kris had fit so seamlessly into his life that Adam hadn't thought anything of it. But with him gone, even the dull gray sky of winter seemed worse.
The phone calls hadn't helped, Adam counting down hours until Kris called him, realizing the point of his days were now dependent on a voice three hours away. Sometimes the phone calls were two minutes. Sometimes two hours. Adam had watched with a mixture of pride and horror as Kris confessed to Ellen and Barbara about his bisexuality, the incident that finally broke his marriage. Adam smiled as Kris blushed when Ellen asked if there was anyone special. Kris had declined to comment. The fans were mostly behind him. The label was furious. His album shot up in sales. Adam walked him through one very bad day, when he was disavowed by his own church, but Kris was coping.
Other phone calls were…less serious. Once, on Christmas, Adam had called Kris very early, imagining Kris blushing furiously as they engaged in lurid phone sex. Kris had hesitantly and successfully returned the favor on New Year's.
Gavin and Fred kept trying to set him up, but Fred pulled him aside one night and asked if he had a thing with Kris. Adam had said he didn't know, but Fred had looked at him sagely and nodded once, and it stopped. Adam supposed in a way that he did have a thing. Kris had done everything except say it aloud, but it was very well implied.
He kept teaching, and still loved doing it. But he began to realize that even though he could be happy here, it wasn't where he belonged. No matter how hard he tried to hide, or how far he had fallen, this was not home. He belonged to music in a different way.
It was January, twenty-eight degrees and six inches of snow before Adam had the courage to call Kris.
"Hey. Sorry I didn't call you yesterday, I'm working on-"
"Kris."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm not happy."
"Oh."
Adam laughed. "That's my line. When can you come?"
"Um," Kris paused. "The earliest I can be there is June. But I can-"
"Don't you dare cancel anything. I'm under contract with the school until June anyway. I want to come home. And I don't know how. I don't even have a publicist anymore."
"Do you want to borrow mine?"
"If you don't mind."
"Let me talk to her, and I can give you her number. Are you sure you don't want me there earlier?"
"No. I can manage now that I made the decision. I just have to figure out how and when to tell everyone here."
"Hey, if I can manage to announce my bisexuality, get sued by me label for conflict of interest, disavowed by the Christian Coalition and still have my album reach triple platinum, I think you reappearing might be pretty easy."
"I've just been gone for almost six years now. I wouldn't even know where to begin to make contacts."
"And that is why you are borrowing my publicist and my assistant. Don't worry about owing me. You are going to pay me back by doing it right this time. You helped me get where I am, it's only fair I help you now."
"Okay. Fine. But first let me get to June, okay?"
"Okay. I can't call much this week, I have a thing with the lawyers of the label, and then I have a meeting with someone else about something I can't talk about…"
"Blah, blah, blah. I'll talk to you later. I miss you."
"I miss you too."
Adam stared at his phone, sighing as he began to plan again. He knew his life hadn't been a fairy tale, but perhaps he could make it into something real again, into something resembling the dreams he once had.
*
May came, and Adam was in the midst of the final weeks before the school musical when he saw the magazine on his way home. He picked it up out of reflex, because he saw Kris's name, another story about his 'wild gay orgies'. He flipped through it idly, until he saw his own name.
Adam Lambert, who disappeared shortly after he was dropped by his label, RCA, was spotted recently in Ohio, sporting long blond locks and teaching music. Sources say he is single, but has a very 'special' friend who visited last October. We have reporters investigating to make sure this is not just a look alike, but the source is very confident.
"Shit."
Two months. Two months and it was going to be over. Both Adam's employer at Hauer's and the principal of the school knew he was leaving. He had planned on telling the cast of the musical the truth the day after the musical ended, and his students on their last day. But if one magazine had picked it up…
He dialed Kris's publicist, who said she had seen the blurb and was tracking it down. She said if he could find the source he might be able to stop it. Adam thought and made a list. There were four people on it. His super, who didn't care about anything as long as the money came in. Gavin and Fred, and Nina. He had no feelings about his super, but the other three names hurt a little. He briefly considered others, possibly even a student. But even as savvy as the students were, he didn't think any of them would think to call the press. They would blackmail Adam directly.
When he went to go teach vocal lessons and Nina wasn't there he knew. It hurt. He understood, but it hurt. He called her anyway.
"Look," he said to her. "I'm not going to be angry with you. Because if the reporters come knocking, I'm going to be ready. I was leaving after June. I hope you know that. If you would have asked, I wouldn't have denied it. I might have asked you to help me keep it secret, but I never would have denied it, especially to you. And you misread my relationship with Kris by the way. I know now you recognized him too. If you saw through my mask you saw through his. We're friends. That is all. Perhaps someday, more, but not now."
"Adam-"
"No. I may not be angry, but I'm disappointed. I liked you. And you betrayed me."
He hung up, feeling petty over such a small victory. But when the first cameras appeared outside his apartment the next day, it buoyed him.
*
"All right, here's the deal. I have a confession to make."
He looked into sixty pairs of eyes. It was the whole of the drama club.
"See, I'm leaving after this school year."
Adam waited for the babble to die down."There's more. See, I've been lying to you about something for a long time."
"Are you talking about when you were famous Mr. Mitchell? Cause we know about that."
Adam stared at Donna, his Dorothy. "I'm sorry?"
Donna shrugged. "Well, I mean it was Laura who figured it out. Her older sister had your CD. I mean the hair threw her off, but she went looking on the internet and found an old photo of you as a blonde."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you were cool. Because we've had the best musical ever the last two years. But I guess someone blabbed didn't they?"
Adam shook his head. "I was leaving before that, but yes."
"Why?"
Adam looked into their face. "Look, I love this. I love teaching more than I ever thought I could. But something changed for me, and I realized that I gave up on my dream too quickly. That I wasn't doing what I was supposed to be doing. That even though I loved being here, I still wasn't being myself. I'm sorry, because I really wish I could stay. But I can't."
Donna nodded, and looked around. "It's okay. So are there cameras following you yet?"
Adam laughed. "Not yet. But they can't come in here, they'll get in trouble."
"There goes my shot at fame."
"You ever decide you want to try and make it, look me up. But not before you finish at least one year of college. You have to be sure."
Donna smiled. "Okay. Do we still call you Mr. Mitchell? Or by your real name?"
Adam frowned. "What the hell. I'm quitting anyway. Let's go by my real name. Have we printed the programs yet? Let's put it in there. At least my name will be on three things I'm proud of."
"Three things?"
"Yeah. My associate's degree and my CD, as well."
"Cool."
Adam watched as they reacted as if having a celebrity around was a normal thing, and realized that he wasn't really a celebrity anymore. That to them, he was just Mr. Mitchell. He was sure there were already parent complaints. But the principal had said since he was quitting in four days it didn't matter much.
*
The next week it finally became clear that perhaps the interest in him was bigger than he realized. He went to both his jobs surrounded by reporters, yelling questions, asking why he had disappeared, if he was dating anyone, if he was planning a comeback. He couldn't go out without at least one of them following, their eyes hungry for knowledge, or the one photo that would make a career.
Adam began to remember why he had been somewhat relieved he had failed, because it meant he could walk down the street in peace and quiet, that he could eat a bagel and drink coffee by himself. That he could stare into space without being accused of a drug habit. That was one headline he read. He had gone into hiding because of a terrible drug habit. Another said he had a terminal disease and was living his life in hiding because he didn't want pity. He had begun to wear sunglasses. The flashes were getting to him, and sometimes even in his dreams he saw purples and greens. He wondered if it was going to be like this the rest of his life. He remembered how bad it had been after Idol, how hard it had been to adjust to being constantly surrounded. This time it was worse, because he had been on his own for the better part of five years, and the constant crowd of strange people was beginning to dishearten him.
Adam could feel them reaching for something from him, something ugly and dark they could print in order to prove that he didn't deserve to come back, that his life of solitude was all he ever deserved. Sometimes lying in bed, he wondered if maybe he did belong here, that there was a reason he had wound up in a cold apartment eating Ramen noodles and watching Wheel of Fortune, yelling "pick an E" at the screen.
Then Kris would call, and Adam would remember standing in front of a crowd, all of them calling his name, the feel of music around and through him, the energy afterwards. He remembered staying up three hours after a show, talking about everything and nothing. He remembered making his own music and feeling as if there was nothing else in the world but beats and melodies.
It didn't matter if he was caught at the club in an intimate conversation with Gavin and Fred, because they were his friends, and he knew that. What anybody else implied from the picture was their problem, not his. But it made him pause again, because he wasn't sure if he wanted to relive the nightmare of all of his life on display.
When he left the high school one evening, the crowd of photographers had become impossible, but there was a black car waiting, a man in sunglasses outside. Adam didn't recognize it, but he had a text on his phone from Kris's publicist to get in the car, so he headed towards it, ignoring the questions as he got in.
"Hi, I'm Sara."
"Adam. Nice to finally meet you. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Entertainment Tonight finally got on the ball and broke the story. So now you can expect even worse."
"It's all good. I'm done really in four days. I can handle no comments until then."
"Good. Now we discuss interview. You can have your choice of small blurb with ET, or Access Hollywood, or I can probably finagle you Ellen. She likes you."
"Ellen. She won't probe too hard when I mention my special friend and don't say who it was."
Sara nodded. "Well, Kris may eventually admit to it. He will, if I know him, because he won't lie about it. But it will look good if you don't say anything. Second order of business. Do you want to go back to work right away, or do you want to publicity for awhile?"
Adam looked at her. "Work? Last I checked no one wanted me."
"Not necessarily. I talked to some people at Columbia, and they like the idea of your story. Plus they really liked the first album, so they might be more willing to back you. As long as you don't have any more disastrous affairs with soap opera actors."
"No. Apparently there is a musician who has his heart set on winning me over. I might just let him."
Sara looked at him sharply. "So he wasn't just trying to make me uncomfortable. It's very hard to tell sometimes when he is teasing me."
"Yeah. I know."
She smiled at him. "Too bad the paps didn't hire a local driver. Looks like we lost them."
"Yeah, until I go home."
"You aren't going home."
The car stopped in front of a hotel. Adam got out, following Sara straight to the elevator. "I took the liberty of packing your stuff up. Some of it is here, some of it is elsewhere. I figured you could do with a little more peace before it starts again."
"I'm totally stealing you from Kris."
"He pays me too well. But I do have a sister who does the same thing."
"Tell her she's hired."
Sara handed him a key card. "You are in 215. I'll call Carolyn. She'll die. Don't stay up too late."
"No worries there."
Sara smiled at him and winked. Adam opened his door, surprised as someone hugged him close.
"Kris? You came. I told you not to come."
"I don't care. I needed to be here."
"Thank you. For everything. Now tell me everything you've been working on."
Kris went on about settling with his label, and his work at creating his own production company. He told Adam he wasn't signing him.
"Really?"
"Conflict of interest. Executive producers shouldn't sleep with their artists."
"Ah."
"As opposed to oh?"
They both laughed. Kris looked at Adam for a long time, biting his lip. Adam kissed him then, slowly, savoring the feel of Kris's lips against his own. He sighed as he pulled back.
"Adam-"
"I know. But now it's me. I need to have a firmer footing. I don't want to look like I'm using you to get back to my old life."
"I know."
That night Kris laid against him, asking him about the musical ("Wizard of Oz? That's fabulous), his voice lessons, ("I had the last one yesterday"), and his hiring of Sara's sister (that's awesome.)
"Are you going to come see the musical? Can you stay another day?"
"I'm here for every night. I'm flying before you though. Have a meeting early early, so as soon as the curtain closes I'm out of there."
"Good. The kids are gonna die when they meet you."
*
There was press waiting outside the school again, but the driver took them around the back, and dropped them off. Adam rushed Kris inside, both of them giggling a little.
Adam told Kris to wait by the door. The students were there, beginning to put things together under the watchful eye of Ms. Campbell, the English teacher and assistant drama director.
"Hey everyone, I have a special guest here who would like to say hi. He's an old friend of mine, so don't scare him off, okay?"
"Whatever, Mr. Lambert. If he's an old friend of yours, he probably knows all the bad stuff anyway."
"Thank you so much, Peyton," Adam said drily, motioning for Kris to come forward. "Everyone say hi to Kris Allen."
Adam felt a tug at the silence that pervaded the room. His name used to get reactions like that. But Kris looked at him sternly, and Adam nodded. One day, maybe it would again. The kids (and Ms. Campbell) crowded around Kris, who took it in stride.
"Hey, I'm here for all the performances, so you can all have a picture if you want, okay?"
"This is so exciting!"
Adam rolled his eyes, and Kris grinned at him. The only person in the room who acted as if nothing had happened was Donna, who merely shook Kris's hand and said "It's an honor."
After the show, back in the hotel, Kris mentioned her.
"She's gonna be famous."
"I know. I told her to come see me after a year of college. She needs a little experience before Hollywood tries to eat her up."
"Is that the reason you want to go back? To forward your students' careers?"
Adam shook his head. "No. But I guess maybe if I do make it this time, it would be paying back karma. Doing right by God, I suppose."
Kris looked at him steadily. "I sat next to Ms. Campbell in the back. She said there have been parent complaints about the rock star deviant teaching their children."
"I know. It's nothing."
"Please don't say that. You always said that and it was never true. It was always something. Why do you always brush it away, Adam?"
Adam paused for a minute, and sighed. "Yeah. Okay. It hurts. But there was never any point in dwelling over it, was there? I mean I can't change everyone's mind all at once, can I?"
"No. But you can admit it affects you. I know I'm one to talk, but it helps to know. It helps because then I can be there for you."
"Kris-"
"I know you want to do this on your own. That you want to try again on your terms. But I wouldn't be where I am if you hadn't have been there, even as a just a friend. I want to be there for you. In whatever way you want me to be."
Kris sat on the couch, his face open and waiting. Adam didn't say anything at all. He moved so he was next to Kris, so he could pull Kris to him and hold him close. Kris wrapped his arms around Adam and leaned in.
"Thank you for coming even though I told you not to. It means a lot," Adam said, his lips brushing against Kris's hair.
"Thank you for letting me completely disrupt your life that you had so carefully constructed."
"It needed breaking anyway," Adam said.
*
Closing night.
Adam walked onto the stage, looking directly at Kris, then into the audience.
"So by now you probably all know who I am, and the circumstances that led me here. I wish I could apologize for misleading you, but I can't. See, I did what I did for a reason, and I won't apologize for trying to restart my life. I also won't apologize for being who I am. I never hid any other thing about myself than my name. So the fact that I am a famous gay man is so much more appalling kind of confuses me. But I'm not going to focus on that. Instead, I want everyone to know that these last two years, working with your children, have probably been the best I have ever had. That working with them has been my privilege. That I am honored and humbled by them daily. That if I never work again that this is the most proud I have been of anything I have ever been involved in. So without further adieu, welcome to the last performance of Wizard of Oz Thank you again, so much, for coming."
Adam snuck into the audience, holding Kris's hand, involuntarily crying as it unfolded before him. It was both the best and worst night of his life. The students presented him with a scrapbook filled with signatures and messages, and the principal came onstage and invited him back whenever he wanted for a concert if he liked. Adam nodded and walked out the door before he completely broke down.
Kris said nothing as the school disappeared behind them. They headed straight for the airport, the driver taking twists and turns so the paparazzi would get lost again. Although when Adam had gone into hiding at the hotel, which they luckily never found, they had begun to disappear again, chasing another story.
"So I guess I'll see you when you get to LA?"
Adam nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to see my mom for a couple days, then I have the taping for Ellen, and a week of meetings with Columbia, and then-"
"Shut up and kiss me goodbye, Adam."
"Okay."
Adam had fully intended to keep it simple, but found Kris half in his lap, hair sticking everywhere, Kris's hands laced through his own and pressing into the leather of the seat, both of them only stopping at the insistent knock on the window.
"I don't want to leave you again," Kris leaned into Adam's shoulder.
"If you don't open that door in one minute, I am opening it despite of your state of dress!"
Adam grinned. "I kind of love her."
"She's good to me. After all of this I think she deserves a raise."
Adam nodded as Kris gathered up his jacket and opened the door. Sara peered inside, giving Adam a stern look. Adam held up his hands in innocence.
"Kris."
Kris turned.
"When I get to LA I want my notebook back."
"You may have to work for it."
Sara let out an audible sigh, and Kris waved at him, disappearing inside the doors.
PART TWO
PAIRING Adam/Kris
WORD COUNT 11300
RATING PG13 for some language and a sex scene (ish)
SUMMARY For ontd_ai 's dollar drive for Haiti. For kradamite and ravenarrow They both selected a prompt off of my list: Kradam: Adam is the one who ends up in a career doldrums while Kris becomes über successful, Adam ends up teaching voice lessons in the Midwest, Kris ends up divorced, unhappy, and looking for Adam...Also for bubby_wubby who donated money and said just put my name on a fic. It, ah, got longer than I thought.
WARNINGsome angst. some fluff.
DISCLAIMER Not real depictions of anyone at all.
thank you katekat1010 for another amazing poster!
Once upon a time Adam Lambert was the great gay hope. He hadn't realized it at first, trying out for Idol. Who knew the dreams of an entire community were going to rest on his shoulders just because of an epiphany he had at Burning Man? But somehow Adam had gone from theater kid just trying to make it in the business to public figure for everyone else but himself.
Maybe that's what happened. The album had sold really well to start off. But sometime between the AMAs and the Rock My Town concert a downward spiral had been triggered. Adam couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but the disastrous affair with the soap opera guy had not helped one bit.
Somehow, five years after Idol, Adam Lambert was a where are they now special, teaching vocal lessons in the Midwest as well as coaching theater. No one knew him here, and that's the way he preferred it.
But every time he walked into a store, there was Kris's face, rumors of a drug habit, a nasty divorce and all the other things that came with massive fame. Adam had changed his number, not wanting to face his friends as a complete failure, but he still got the urge to dial Kris's, although he had probably changed it by now. Stalkers and everything. So Adam never called.
But he wanted to.
Sometimes.
Mostly he spent his days alone, and wrote songs when he wasn't teaching, or watching television. He was addicted to Entertainment Tonight because it was the only way he got news of his old friends. That, and Twitter. He wasn't obsessed or anything, but he couldn't call them. He liked his anonymity.
He liked walking around a city that may have known him once but didn't give a fuck now. He liked walking up and down the aisles of a grocery store and not worrying that if he picked up too many bags of potato chips that he was going to be accused of bulimia or depression or some other mental health issue. He liked teaching. He loved teaching. That's what he told himself, whenever he got nostalgic for the old days.
After the label dropped him, he spent three months shopping himself around. When he realized no one wanted him anymore he got very drunk and stayed that way for a week. So two years after Idol, he was out of options. He briefly considered returning to the theater, but he knew it was a younger man's game. So he researched and found the most remote college he could find, somewhere in Minnesota, let his hair grow out, and went back to school. Two years and an associate's degree later, he felt safe enough to wander to a city.
He made a deal with the music store owner. They knew his real name, but he went by another. All the legal documents were correct, but here he was Mr. Mitchell and no one was wiser. Except the music store owner. And the super. And the principal of the school where he coached theater. It was three people too many, but he had been here almost a year and he was starting to shed the nervousness he had felt since he had decided to go into hiding. He was beginning to feel like he belonged again.
Adam slipped his coat on, shivering as he remembered his first winter here, glad he didn't have to drive to the music store. A lot of people had looked askance at him, and asked if he was worried. He laughed. He had lived in LA. Dayton, Ohio was a lot of things, but dangerous for someone like Adam was not it.
"Hey, Nina," he said once he walked into Hauer's, leafing through the sale music briefly since he was early.
She was reading one of the gossip magazines. US Adam thought, fondly remembering the interview before tour. He often wondered why Nina hadn't recognized him, but there were days when he didn't recognize himself.
He climbed the stairs to the studios, thinking. He wore jeans and t-shirts. Sometimes suits. He still was a little fashion forward for his location, but certainly a lot more conservative than he had ever imagined himself. Especially the sneakers. He had bought them on impulse, seeing them on sale. It was stupid really, because they were a daily reminder of everything he had left behind.
But he had chosen a fresh life, and that meant a clean break. The only people who knew where he was was his family. And even then his mom only had a phone number and a PO Box. It was better that way.
Four students and a cancellation later, he walked back to his apartment, Nina's magazine tucked under his arm. The cancellation meant he could take a long lunch and read about the life he didn't miss.
Mostly didn't miss.
He paused at the cover. Former Idol Marriage in Trouble? Sources Say Yes! Adam was wary, but it was US not one of the other magazines. US was pretty reliable. He idly flipped the pages, trying to calm himself. It was on page thirteen, a small blurb in the right hand corner.
Rumors about the Allen marriage have been flying since the very beginning, but representatives of both Kris and Katy Allen have confirmed that the pair's marriage is in shambles and a divorce is pending. No word on circumstances.
Adam swallowed. Kris had been there for him for every break up. Even the soap opera guy. (Adam refused to even think of him by name. It was that shameful). His hands hovered over his phone, but he wanted to wait. Maybe their problem would resolve itself.
Adam tried to tell himself he didn't care about them anymore, but if one thing had pervaded his life here in Ohio it was the extensive loneliness he felt. He had friends here, but there was always that wall, because he was essentially hiding, so he couldn't talk about his family, or his past, except that he didn't want to talk about it and that made most conversations awkward and stilted. So Adam spent most of his nights with his music, or the computer, or the TV, and learning piano.
The music was when he missed them most, remembering the mansion, and the tour. The secret swapping of their albums, and the excitement the day they came out. The ability to call someone who understood losing a lyric, or to just sit and not say anything but still be understood.
Those days were the ones Adam almost broke, when he lay in bed and wondered if he'd made the right decision after all. But he remembered there were worse things than disappearing: there was hanging-on, or being looked at as if you were a lower form of life, and he was, because he was a has-been, a failed experiment, and he had let his people down.
He had after all, been the great gay hope.
*
The news was confirmed by three more magazines as well as the television, where Katy was caught walking out of a store by TMZ, and her wedding ring wasn't there. She looked sad, but not devastated. Adam spent an hour with his phone in his hand and dialed the old number, hoping that it hadn't changed, and that Kris would answer despite the unfamiliar number.
"This is Kris's phone, Cale speaking."
"Cale. Let me talk to Kris."
There was silence for a minute. "Is this who I think it is?"
"Yes. I want to talk to him."
He heard Cale yell for Kris, and tell him that this was a call he had to take.
"Hello?"
Adam closed his eyes. He hadn't heard Kris's voice live in a long time, except the one time he had bought tickets to a concert and walked out after the first song, because seeing Kris onstage had made him want to weep.
"Hi Kris."
"Adam?" It was barely a whisper.
"Yeah."
"I-I don't know what to say."
Adam smiled. "Don't say anything."
"I want to ask so many questions."
"And I probably won't answer them. Look, Kris, I saw everything on the news and I wanted to know if everything was okay."
There was a long pause, and Kris cleared his throat. "Yeah. I mean, not a lot of people know this, but we've basically been separated for a year. This was really just a formality. But thank you for calling. It means a lot. I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"Does this mean I get to worm my way back into your life, wherever that is?"
"No. I can't Kris. I have a life here, and a world famous rock star might unbalance that."
"Can I ask one question?"
The tone of Kris's voice was so plaintive, and Adam could imagine the look in his eyes. "Fine."
"Are you happy? With whatever it is you are doing?"
Adam let out a breath. "Yes."
"Good. I'm putting your number in my phone. Just in case. Will you answer if I call? If it's important?"
"Of course I will. As long as you do the same."
They said their goodbyes and hung up. It wasn't as painful as Adam thought it would have been, the conversation.
Except lying in bed that night, he began to realize that he missed Kris more than he thought. That perhaps he wasn't as happy as he thought he was. But it was all he had.
Once upon a time, he had dreamed. Now he just lived.
*
One year later
It was Entertainment Weekly that clued Adam in the next time. There was a short video of Kris at a concert, breaking down and weeping. So Adam did what any normal friend would do, He YouTubed it. The audience was screaming encore and Kris came out with his guitar.
Adam could already tell from his face that something was wrong.
"Hey everyone. I don't usually do encores, but today was a really hard, and I have a song that pretty much encompasses everything I'm feeling right now. So I hope you like it."
Adam didn't recognize it at first. He had purposely avoided his own music, but as soon as Kris started the first line, the crowd rumbled, and hushed as Kris's voice stretched over the music, aching in ways that Adam had thought were even impossible for this song. Kris's face was scrunched up and there were already tears there, his voice hoarse and breaking. Adam gripped the edge of his table to keep himself from touching the screen. Even so he was already crying himself, seeing Kris completely deconstruct in front of all those people. Kris reached the last chorus, the audience silent except for a few whispered sobs, and his voice warbled on lines "It messed me up/ need a second to breathe", the final "whataya want from me" barely spoken. The lights went down then, but the video kept rolling and Adam could see Kris in the darkness, leaning over his guitar, his shoulders shaking. The video ended there, but Adam stared at the screen, horrified at what he had just witnessed.
He picked up his phone and dialed. There was nothing. Not even a voice message. Just a "leave a message at the tone" in a strange robot voice that he did not understand. He didn't talk to the air.
He sat up all night worrying, even calling his mom, but she hadn't heard anything. Kris's mom Tweeted about him lying low for awhile, and Adam hoped for the best, but hopes and dreams weren't exactly his forte anymore.
*
It was a week later when he opened his door and saw Kris, unshaven, sloppy and perfect sitting on his couch.
"Kris? What the hell?"
Kris's eyes widened as he took in Adam's appearance, then sighed. "I don't even get a hug?"
Adam closed the door behind him and locked it, fighting between anger and giddiness. "How the hell did you find me?"
"I may or may not have conned your mom into telling me what city you were in. Then I looked up music teachers. Lucky guess that one. I may have followed you home from work one day. And then I found your super, who knows who you are, and therefore knows who I am, and paid him a ridiculous amount to not tell anyone I was here, and got a key."
"You could have called."
"So could have you."
There was a bite to Kris's tone, and Adam could tell that Kris was on edge, perhaps looking for a fight. But Adam didn't want to fight Kris. Not now. If ever.
"I did, but I got voice mail. You should know that."
"I was afraid if I called you wouldn't let me come."
Kris seemed small then, almost disappearing into Adam's couch.
"Kris, what happened?"
"Is it okay if I don't talk about it yet?"
Adam nodded.
"Does this mean I can stay for a bit?"
"Did you think I was just going to kick you out? The look you're sporting now is enough of a disguise. If growing out my hair and wearing jeans all the time has kept me hidden all this time, grimy sweatpants and a beard should be good for you."
Kris smiled then, a small uplift of one corner of his mouth. Adam wanted to reach out, but he had forgotten how in all their time apart. Kris stood.
"So where do I put my stuff?" He pointed to a small duffel bag, and of course, a guitar.
"Follow me. The guest room is kind of small and the mattress is lumpy, but it's better than sleeping in a car."
Adam heard Kris stop. "How-"
"Basic rule of hiding: don't fly. Most hotels don't take cash, so that means sleeping in your car. Right?"
"Yeah. It looks pretty good to me," Kris said when Adam waved him into the room.
"I have work at my other job until late, so you are on your own for dinner. Don't forget to eat, you look like you've lost weight."
"So have you."
"It's amazing what having little money will do for your diet, Kris." Adam clenched his hand, trying to stop the anger at how little Kris understood. "Anyway. I'm going to grab some things and get going."
He turned to leave and Kris called him back.
"Adam?"
"Yeah?"
Then Kris was in his arms, squeezing hard, head against his shoulder. Adam closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the strange familiarity of it. He let go reluctantly.
"Thank you for not kicking me out."
"Don't make me regret it. I like my life. So if you fuck it up…"
"Go do your thing. There's plenty of time to talk." Adam nodded.
*
The next two weeks were surreal at best. Adam went on with his life as normal, except his evenings were filled with Kris watching the TV in contemplation, or noodling on the guitar. He came home one day to find Kris leafing through his songbook, humming some of the tunes softly. They didn't really talk. At least about what had happened. It was nice, because they seemed to say everything in the way they sat, but it was frustrating, because Adam wanted to know what exactly had led to the moment Kris had broken, so he could fix it.
But they laughed. Adam had forgotten how much he could laugh. How much he had missed it. He didn't have a lot of close friends, because of the delicate balance of lies and truth he told everyone, so with Kris here he could tell stories from his day, or talk about the past, or ask about their friends and he didn't have to remember exactly what he had said at any given moment.
Kris came with him to the music store. Adam introduced him as a friend, and Nina whispered to him that she thought he had better taste. Adam laughed and said that he was just a friend, so she smiled and said hi to Kris. Kris for his part, ended up charming the two guitar guys into letting him play their prize guitar, doing complicated jazz riffs that both impressed and turned on Adam. He swallowed, trying not to remember the way Kris's hands had moved, and tried to concentrate on teaching lessons.
Before Adam realized it, it was three days before Halloween and Kris had been there for a month. The TV magazines speculated, and Kris's publicist said he was taking some private time away from the public eye. Ironically, some of them speculated that Kris was having a secret affair. Adam looked across the couch, Kris's legs spilling over the edge and his foot kicking idly. Even unshaven and slobby, Adam suspected there would be many who would take Kris up on it if they wanted.
"So what do you do for Halloween around here?"
Adam shrugged. "There's a big party. It's pretty intense. I mean not nearly as exciting as WeHo, but intense for Ohio."
"I wanna go."
"Not like that you aren't."
"I can be a lumberjack or something."
"I don't think so. Its one thing to hang out in the music store like that, but you come to Halloween? Where my reputation is at stake? No. I'm going to make you a costume and you are going to like it."
"Should I be scared?"
"No, but you will have to shave that thing off your face."
Kris sighed dramatically. "Oh the suffering I go through for your art."
"Hmmmm. I'll need money. I'm not buying it for you on my salary."
Kris gave him a look. Adam said nothing. Kris had slipped him money for the extra groceries and utilities, so Adam knew he was good for it. Adam returned from his shopping trip mostly satisfied. He had found pants and a shirt, along with a cape. He didn't have a mask or hat though. But the fake sword he had procured was fairly excellent.
"But how can I be Zorro without a mask?" Kris put a little whine into his voice, his eyes sparkling.
Adam shook his head. He was glad this Kris was back, but he also remembered that this Kris could be slightly aggravating.
"I have make-up for that. So go shower and shave and put the costume on, and we'll do that."
"What about you?"
"Just you wait."
Adam put his costume on, and was waiting patiently for Kris to be done so he could finish his hair.
"Adam, seriously?"
Kris walked out of the bathroom, looking…
Adam bit his lip. Maybe he had bought the clothes a little too small. The leather pants accentuated every curve, and the shirt clung to Kris's chest precariously, as if it were going to rip open if he breathed too deeply. And Adam couldn't stop staring at Kris's jaw, smooth and sharp. He had forgotten Kris's jaw, his bottom lip, his…
"Adam?"
Adam shook himself. It was not time to revisit his attraction to his best friend.
"You'll be fine. Trust me, most everyone will be wearing as little as possible. Go sit down. I have to do my hair."
"And you are supposed to be?" Kris took in Adam's clothes, his face scrunched up in thought. Then he shrugged.
"Okay. Go do your magic."
When Adam emerged from the bathroom, Kris grinned. "Oh. An elf. I always thought the ears were kind of hot."
Adam smirked. "Just sit in the chair and close your eyes, Allen."
Adam wiped the sponge over Kris's eyelid, always aware of the other eye staring steadily, and Kris's mouth, slightly open, his whole body, just within reach. Adam switched sides, but the gaze remained. After it was over, Kris's eyes were rimmed in black, tapering to points at the top of each ear. Adam nodded to himself and almost walked away, when Kris grabbed his wrist.
And said nothing, still staring at Adam, both of them breathing, neither of them stepping forward.
"Yes?" Adam said, proud that his voice was steady.
"I want to tell you. What happened to me. Later."
"I'm not sure I have enough alcohol."
Kris grinned. "We'll make do."
Still Adam stood there another few moments, wishing he had the right to run his hand along Kris's jaw and place a soft kiss on Kris's lips. He wished he didn't remember wanting that right. He settled for squeezing Kris's shoulder and smiling.
"Let's get this party started."
Kris eyes widened as he took in the scene, everything from girls in slutty store bought costumes to drag queens in little else but feathers and glitter to regular people who had put on camouflage pants and pretended that that was their costume. There was dancing and drinking, and if Kris was paying closer attention, Adam would guarantee he would see at least one sex act before the night was over.
"Adam!!!!"
Adam turned and smiled, watching as Batman and Robin approached him.
"Gavin! Fred! Good to see you!" He hugged them both. "This is my friend Kristopher. He's staying with me while he puts his life back together.
"Mmmmhmmmmmm," Gavin (Batman) said. "Nice to meet you Kristopher."
Kris shook both their hands. "So how long have you known Adam?"
"Since he first appeared at the most fabulous gay club in all of Dayton, oh about two years ago. He looked miserable and we chose him as our latest project," Fred sighed. "But he refuses to be in any sort of committed relationship. I just don't get it."
"Maybe some people aren't cut out for it," Kris said quietly and Adam almost took him home right then.
"Pffft. He's a serial monogamist if I ever saw one. But I'm pretty sure he's preoccupied right now," Fred winked.
Adam tried to interrupt, but Kris just blinked, and said. "Well, I try."
Both men burst out laughing at as Adam gaped slightly.
"Oh the Dynamic Duo, the Third Wheel, and who do we have here?"
A cowboy in very tight jeans joined them, eyeing Kris appreciatively. Kris stared back, not even blushing. Adam was kind of sad that he had lost that.
"My name is Kristopher. But you can call me Zorro."
"Andrew. But you can call me anything you'd like as long as it's just the two of us."
Adam stared as Kris stepped forward, looking Andrew up and down, and then laying a hand on Andrew's chest. "But there are people watching, so maybe we should stick to our names. Plus a true gentleman doesn't ditch his date."
"Adam finally is getting some? Miracles do happen."
Adam opened his mouth to speak again when Kris stepped back and put his arm around Adam's hip and pulled him close, his hand resting lightly on Adam's ass.
"You know what Adam? I haven't taken a real look around. Let's go see what there is to see. The air in here is getting pretty nasty."
Adam looked at Fred and Gavin, who looked at Kris speculatively as he led Adam away, but the one prize of the evening was Andrew's face, screwed up in concentration, trying to figure out whether or not he'd been insulted.
"Kris."
"Shut up okay? I was kind of making it up as I went along."
Adam laughed, throwing his head back. Kris's hand stayed where it was, but for some reason it didn't feel uncomfortable at all.
*
"I'm going to wash this stuff off. Don't run away, okay?"
Adam watched Kris walk to the bathroom and fell onto the couch. He had spent half the night amused, the other half…
"Why aren't you dancing?" Kris asked.
"Because you told everyone it's ungentlemanly to leave a date, and now everyone assumes you are my date, so if I go dance with someone else, I'll look like an ass." "You can dance with me."
Kris's eyes were unreadable as ever, his face serious.
Adam closed his eyes, thankful for the long loose tunic of his costume. Kris had been hesitant at first, but caught on surprisingly well, his hip locked into Adam's, his face set in concentration and sweat. Adam had stepped away, making excuses about feeling unwell, so Kris had walked him home.
He didn't feel unwell.
He had spent half the night with Kris's hand on his ass, or his hip, and topped it off with Kris Allen grinding against him, eyes wide and dark.
He felt horny.
"Is it a headache?"
Adam shook his head, leaning back as Kris's fingers massaged his temples. "No. I just wanted to get out of there anyway."
Kris walked around the couch. "Something's wrong."
"Maybe I don't want to talk about it. I thought you were the one who wanted to talk."
"Maybe. First, I want to show you something."
Adam opened his eyes. Kris's were no longer obscured by the black make-up mask, but still burned brightly. Adam had never seen that look from Kris, not that he could remember. He couldn't read it.
"Show me something?"
Kris nodded, and let out a breath. Adam watched, at first curious, then surprised as Kris leaned forward and kissed him. It was soft at first, just a brush of lips, then Kris put his hand on the couch and it intensified, Adam relenting to Kris's insistent tongue, but his hands still tight against his side.
"Kris-"
"I don't want to talk," Kris whispered against his lips.
"Me either."
Adam pulled Kris down so he was straddling Adam's lap, their chests pressing against each other, Kris's hands fisted in Adam's hair, his body slowly rocking against Adam's.
Adam groaned at the friction against his already tight pants, trying to stop Kris's frantic motion by putting his hands on Kris's hips, but Kris shook his head, his own hands on top of Adam's, peeling them off of his hips and lacing their fingers together. So Adam maneuvered Kris on to the couch, hoping to still him, at least long enough to understand how this was happening, and how the dream hadn't ended yet.
"Want… want.." Kris whispered, his breath hot in Adam's ears, his body arching as Adam grazed his teeth against Kris's collarbone.
"Patience," Adam whispered, a part of him screaming to stop, a part of him thinking this was still a dream, and the part in control just going with it, just letting it happen.
But Kris wasn't having any of it, wrapping his leg around Adam and pulling him down. Kris moved his hips upward, his head buried in Adam's shoulder, his body shuddering. Adam followed him, his own body taking control where he could not.
He laid his head next to Kris's.
"Something to show me?" he whispered.
Kris laughed a little. "Okay, not exactly how I planned that."
Adam propped himself up, noting Kris's lips were swollen and red, and faint bruises were already appearing on his neck. "I need more before this goes any further. But first I'm going to clean myself up, get in my pajamas and some alcohol."
Kris nodded. "Are we okay?"
"No. But we never were really okay, were we?"
*
Adam sat on the couch, feeling surprisingly calm about the whole night. Kris looked at him nervously at first, then seemed to remember it was Adam, and immediately settled.
"Where do I start? What do you know?"
"Besides the rumors and what's been printed? Nothing. Oh. And you broke down after a concert. Singing one of my songs."
"You saw that, then."
"Yeah. It… it was pretty brutal."
"I'm sorry. I-I was in a really bad place."
"I guessed as much."
Kris smiled at that. "Okay. I guess I should start with the divorce. The separation."
Adam nodded.
"I still love Katy. I think that's important to say. I'm just not in love with her, you know? It's funny, how it worked out. We both got our dreams and neither of us were happy. It was small things at first, and then I found myself in a hallway of our home yelling, both of us yelling for no reason. I guess we both grew so much, but we forgot to grow together. So we decided maybe we needed time apart."
Kris paused.
"What? What happened then Kris?"
Kris closed his eyes. "About six months in. There was a club."
"You wouldn't be the first celebrity who ever saw a stripper, Kris."
"A gay club."
"Oh."
Adam took a bite of his ice cream, not because he wanted it, but because he needed time to form a coherent opinion.
Kris smiled again. "Guess you didn't hear that one on TMZ did you? It's amazing what a publicist and money will do for you. It'll come out eventually. I don't care."
"You didn't do anything stupid?"
"Adam, please. It's me. Although, I, uh, may have, uh gone out on a date or two with one of your exes. Very quietly."
Adam paused again. "Seriously? Not Brad. Please not Brad."
"Oh no. He still kind of scares me. Jackson. The firefighter."
"Hmmmmmm, he had a tattoo-"
"I know."
"Oh."
"You keep saying that."
"You keep giving me information I don't suspect. You always had an amazing ability to surprise me."
"Anyway," Kris continued, "Katy confessed that she'd started seeing someone else too, and she had this smile on her face, and… We laughed about it. I mean, we cried, 'cause we did have something special, but we laughed because it was going to be easier than we thought. Letting go."
"So how did that lead up to the concert?"
Kris shrugged. "After the divorce I started dating again. Publicly, girls. Privately, a few guys that Jackson set me up with discreetly."
"And?"
"None of them were you."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Hard to tell your best friend you have a gigantic crush on him when he's in hiding. And I got to thinking about everything that had happened, and I felt so guilty for letting you disappear. Because I should have been there more."
"You were there plenty. I just chose to ignore it."
Kris shook his head. "But I thought maybe there was something I could have done. And I began to realize I was alone, had no idea where you were, and would probably be alone for the rest of my life. Add in that Katy has never been happier, and my publicist yells at me because there's another picture, of me and some guy at a restaurant. I just didn't want to care about that anymore. I was tired of being the poster boy for everything all American and good. I was tired of the label telling me how I should act and what I should wear and who I should date. I was tired of them expecting me to be this person that I just wasn't anymore. I was tired of trying to be so many different people."
Kris put his head down and stared into his lap. "I just wanted to be me again."
"I get that. I do."
"I know you do."
"The thing is, what do you plan on doing now?"
"I don't know." Kris laughed, but there were tears in his eyes. "I came here because I didn't know where else to go. Because with you, I've always been able to be me. And now I just…"
Adam nodded. 'Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, thinking.
"Maybe you should sleep on it. Think about things. I know I need to."
"Okay."
They sat there for awhile, and Adam finally broke the awkward silence by rising, walking over to Kris and kissing his forehead. Adam smiled.
"I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
Kris nodded. Adam walked away, still processing everything, and had just begun to drift off when there was a knock on his door.
"It's not a good idea, Kris," he mumbled.
But Kris walked in anyway, lying on top of the sheets, burying his head in Adam's back. "I don't want…not right now. I just…" his voice hitched. "I just..."
Adam turned, seeing the confusion in Kris's eyes. "Fine. But no funny business okay?"
Kris nodded once, and burrowed under the covers until he was curled into Adam, his warm breath against Adam's collarbone.
Adam ran his hand in slow circles up and down Kris's back. He had forgotten the warmth of another person, the comfort of another body next to his. Adam didn't think he would be able to sleep, but Kris's steady breathing seemed to soothe him, and he drifted off, for the first time in a long time, content.
*
"So I've been thinking."
Two days had passed. Both nights Kris had curled against Adam, both nights Adam had let him. They had kissed again. Adam had kissed Kris actually. The morning after, he had walked up to the bathroom door just as Kris was leaving, his hair sticking up everywhere and his eyes still sleepy.
Adam had pushed Kris against the door, his hands firm against Kris's shoulders. Kris had barely formed the beginning of a word that suspiciously sounded like what and Adam was kissing him, urgent and sloppy, heat and speed over taste and technique.
"Just so you know, I'm not saying I don't want it either. I just don't think it's a good idea."
Kris had nodded and walked away, slightly unsteady. They hadn't returned to normal, but somehow seemed to be beyond it, to be back to where they were on Idol and just a level more.
Adam shook his head back into the present. "You've been thinking?"
Kris nodded. "You like it here don't you? I mean, you really like your life? You're happy?"
Adam tilted his head. "Yeah. I like teaching. Shocking, I know." "This won't work then, will it? Because I can't hide like you. I ran a big risk just coming here."
Adam sighed and sat next to Kris on the couch. "Not really. I mean, I know I can't hide forever. But I just haven't figured out how to go back to LA yet. How to be me yet. Until then, this is good for me."
Kris nodded. "I thought so. I probably should sort my stuff out first before committing anyway. I want to talk to the label about going public."
Adam raised his eyebrows. "That's pretty heavy."
"I know. But when you come back, whenever that is, I just want you to know I'm going to ask you out. Several times. I don't want it to be a surprise to anyone."
Adam felt his face twitch as he tried not to burst into a large grin. "Okay. I might go with you on one too. Maybe."
"Asshole."
"And?"
Kris leaned his head against Adam's shoulders. "I have to confess something else."
"I'm pretty sure you couldn't surprise me any more than you already have."
"I didn't sleep with any of them."
"Oh."
Kris was faintly pink, which only made Adam want to hold him closer.
"So, uh," Adam cleared his throat, "when are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow. Early, so no one sees my pretty face."
"You will call me, right?"
"Every day if I can."
"Good."
Kris looked up at him. "If you needed me to come back, you would call, right? If you weren't happy or you wanted to leave, or just needed to see me?"
"Yeah. I would."
Kris nodded, and leaned again, his fingers lacing through Adam's. Adam squeezed Kris's hand and laid his head atop Kris's.
"Can I take your notebook with me? I really like a couple of the songs."
"Sure," Adam said. "Maybe people will start talking about the reclusive hermit songwriter rather than the missing washed up former superstar."
Kris laughed. "More likely they'll pester me to tell me where you are. But I'll say they arrived mysteriously in my mail, no postmark…"
And so the day went on as the others had, except for Adam's new awareness that his life had changed again, the delicate balance he had crafted disrupted, but not shattered. He kind of liked the change, even if it had been all too brief.
*
It wasn't until Nina asked where Kris was that Adam realized just how alone he had been. Kris had fit so seamlessly into his life that Adam hadn't thought anything of it. But with him gone, even the dull gray sky of winter seemed worse.
The phone calls hadn't helped, Adam counting down hours until Kris called him, realizing the point of his days were now dependent on a voice three hours away. Sometimes the phone calls were two minutes. Sometimes two hours. Adam had watched with a mixture of pride and horror as Kris confessed to Ellen and Barbara about his bisexuality, the incident that finally broke his marriage. Adam smiled as Kris blushed when Ellen asked if there was anyone special. Kris had declined to comment. The fans were mostly behind him. The label was furious. His album shot up in sales. Adam walked him through one very bad day, when he was disavowed by his own church, but Kris was coping.
Other phone calls were…less serious. Once, on Christmas, Adam had called Kris very early, imagining Kris blushing furiously as they engaged in lurid phone sex. Kris had hesitantly and successfully returned the favor on New Year's.
Gavin and Fred kept trying to set him up, but Fred pulled him aside one night and asked if he had a thing with Kris. Adam had said he didn't know, but Fred had looked at him sagely and nodded once, and it stopped. Adam supposed in a way that he did have a thing. Kris had done everything except say it aloud, but it was very well implied.
He kept teaching, and still loved doing it. But he began to realize that even though he could be happy here, it wasn't where he belonged. No matter how hard he tried to hide, or how far he had fallen, this was not home. He belonged to music in a different way.
It was January, twenty-eight degrees and six inches of snow before Adam had the courage to call Kris.
"Hey. Sorry I didn't call you yesterday, I'm working on-"
"Kris."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm not happy."
"Oh."
Adam laughed. "That's my line. When can you come?"
"Um," Kris paused. "The earliest I can be there is June. But I can-"
"Don't you dare cancel anything. I'm under contract with the school until June anyway. I want to come home. And I don't know how. I don't even have a publicist anymore."
"Do you want to borrow mine?"
"If you don't mind."
"Let me talk to her, and I can give you her number. Are you sure you don't want me there earlier?"
"No. I can manage now that I made the decision. I just have to figure out how and when to tell everyone here."
"Hey, if I can manage to announce my bisexuality, get sued by me label for conflict of interest, disavowed by the Christian Coalition and still have my album reach triple platinum, I think you reappearing might be pretty easy."
"I've just been gone for almost six years now. I wouldn't even know where to begin to make contacts."
"And that is why you are borrowing my publicist and my assistant. Don't worry about owing me. You are going to pay me back by doing it right this time. You helped me get where I am, it's only fair I help you now."
"Okay. Fine. But first let me get to June, okay?"
"Okay. I can't call much this week, I have a thing with the lawyers of the label, and then I have a meeting with someone else about something I can't talk about…"
"Blah, blah, blah. I'll talk to you later. I miss you."
"I miss you too."
Adam stared at his phone, sighing as he began to plan again. He knew his life hadn't been a fairy tale, but perhaps he could make it into something real again, into something resembling the dreams he once had.
*
May came, and Adam was in the midst of the final weeks before the school musical when he saw the magazine on his way home. He picked it up out of reflex, because he saw Kris's name, another story about his 'wild gay orgies'. He flipped through it idly, until he saw his own name.
Adam Lambert, who disappeared shortly after he was dropped by his label, RCA, was spotted recently in Ohio, sporting long blond locks and teaching music. Sources say he is single, but has a very 'special' friend who visited last October. We have reporters investigating to make sure this is not just a look alike, but the source is very confident.
"Shit."
Two months. Two months and it was going to be over. Both Adam's employer at Hauer's and the principal of the school knew he was leaving. He had planned on telling the cast of the musical the truth the day after the musical ended, and his students on their last day. But if one magazine had picked it up…
He dialed Kris's publicist, who said she had seen the blurb and was tracking it down. She said if he could find the source he might be able to stop it. Adam thought and made a list. There were four people on it. His super, who didn't care about anything as long as the money came in. Gavin and Fred, and Nina. He had no feelings about his super, but the other three names hurt a little. He briefly considered others, possibly even a student. But even as savvy as the students were, he didn't think any of them would think to call the press. They would blackmail Adam directly.
When he went to go teach vocal lessons and Nina wasn't there he knew. It hurt. He understood, but it hurt. He called her anyway.
"Look," he said to her. "I'm not going to be angry with you. Because if the reporters come knocking, I'm going to be ready. I was leaving after June. I hope you know that. If you would have asked, I wouldn't have denied it. I might have asked you to help me keep it secret, but I never would have denied it, especially to you. And you misread my relationship with Kris by the way. I know now you recognized him too. If you saw through my mask you saw through his. We're friends. That is all. Perhaps someday, more, but not now."
"Adam-"
"No. I may not be angry, but I'm disappointed. I liked you. And you betrayed me."
He hung up, feeling petty over such a small victory. But when the first cameras appeared outside his apartment the next day, it buoyed him.
*
"All right, here's the deal. I have a confession to make."
He looked into sixty pairs of eyes. It was the whole of the drama club.
"See, I'm leaving after this school year."
Adam waited for the babble to die down."There's more. See, I've been lying to you about something for a long time."
"Are you talking about when you were famous Mr. Mitchell? Cause we know about that."
Adam stared at Donna, his Dorothy. "I'm sorry?"
Donna shrugged. "Well, I mean it was Laura who figured it out. Her older sister had your CD. I mean the hair threw her off, but she went looking on the internet and found an old photo of you as a blonde."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you were cool. Because we've had the best musical ever the last two years. But I guess someone blabbed didn't they?"
Adam shook his head. "I was leaving before that, but yes."
"Why?"
Adam looked into their face. "Look, I love this. I love teaching more than I ever thought I could. But something changed for me, and I realized that I gave up on my dream too quickly. That I wasn't doing what I was supposed to be doing. That even though I loved being here, I still wasn't being myself. I'm sorry, because I really wish I could stay. But I can't."
Donna nodded, and looked around. "It's okay. So are there cameras following you yet?"
Adam laughed. "Not yet. But they can't come in here, they'll get in trouble."
"There goes my shot at fame."
"You ever decide you want to try and make it, look me up. But not before you finish at least one year of college. You have to be sure."
Donna smiled. "Okay. Do we still call you Mr. Mitchell? Or by your real name?"
Adam frowned. "What the hell. I'm quitting anyway. Let's go by my real name. Have we printed the programs yet? Let's put it in there. At least my name will be on three things I'm proud of."
"Three things?"
"Yeah. My associate's degree and my CD, as well."
"Cool."
Adam watched as they reacted as if having a celebrity around was a normal thing, and realized that he wasn't really a celebrity anymore. That to them, he was just Mr. Mitchell. He was sure there were already parent complaints. But the principal had said since he was quitting in four days it didn't matter much.
*
The next week it finally became clear that perhaps the interest in him was bigger than he realized. He went to both his jobs surrounded by reporters, yelling questions, asking why he had disappeared, if he was dating anyone, if he was planning a comeback. He couldn't go out without at least one of them following, their eyes hungry for knowledge, or the one photo that would make a career.
Adam began to remember why he had been somewhat relieved he had failed, because it meant he could walk down the street in peace and quiet, that he could eat a bagel and drink coffee by himself. That he could stare into space without being accused of a drug habit. That was one headline he read. He had gone into hiding because of a terrible drug habit. Another said he had a terminal disease and was living his life in hiding because he didn't want pity. He had begun to wear sunglasses. The flashes were getting to him, and sometimes even in his dreams he saw purples and greens. He wondered if it was going to be like this the rest of his life. He remembered how bad it had been after Idol, how hard it had been to adjust to being constantly surrounded. This time it was worse, because he had been on his own for the better part of five years, and the constant crowd of strange people was beginning to dishearten him.
Adam could feel them reaching for something from him, something ugly and dark they could print in order to prove that he didn't deserve to come back, that his life of solitude was all he ever deserved. Sometimes lying in bed, he wondered if maybe he did belong here, that there was a reason he had wound up in a cold apartment eating Ramen noodles and watching Wheel of Fortune, yelling "pick an E" at the screen.
Then Kris would call, and Adam would remember standing in front of a crowd, all of them calling his name, the feel of music around and through him, the energy afterwards. He remembered staying up three hours after a show, talking about everything and nothing. He remembered making his own music and feeling as if there was nothing else in the world but beats and melodies.
It didn't matter if he was caught at the club in an intimate conversation with Gavin and Fred, because they were his friends, and he knew that. What anybody else implied from the picture was their problem, not his. But it made him pause again, because he wasn't sure if he wanted to relive the nightmare of all of his life on display.
When he left the high school one evening, the crowd of photographers had become impossible, but there was a black car waiting, a man in sunglasses outside. Adam didn't recognize it, but he had a text on his phone from Kris's publicist to get in the car, so he headed towards it, ignoring the questions as he got in.
"Hi, I'm Sara."
"Adam. Nice to finally meet you. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Entertainment Tonight finally got on the ball and broke the story. So now you can expect even worse."
"It's all good. I'm done really in four days. I can handle no comments until then."
"Good. Now we discuss interview. You can have your choice of small blurb with ET, or Access Hollywood, or I can probably finagle you Ellen. She likes you."
"Ellen. She won't probe too hard when I mention my special friend and don't say who it was."
Sara nodded. "Well, Kris may eventually admit to it. He will, if I know him, because he won't lie about it. But it will look good if you don't say anything. Second order of business. Do you want to go back to work right away, or do you want to publicity for awhile?"
Adam looked at her. "Work? Last I checked no one wanted me."
"Not necessarily. I talked to some people at Columbia, and they like the idea of your story. Plus they really liked the first album, so they might be more willing to back you. As long as you don't have any more disastrous affairs with soap opera actors."
"No. Apparently there is a musician who has his heart set on winning me over. I might just let him."
Sara looked at him sharply. "So he wasn't just trying to make me uncomfortable. It's very hard to tell sometimes when he is teasing me."
"Yeah. I know."
She smiled at him. "Too bad the paps didn't hire a local driver. Looks like we lost them."
"Yeah, until I go home."
"You aren't going home."
The car stopped in front of a hotel. Adam got out, following Sara straight to the elevator. "I took the liberty of packing your stuff up. Some of it is here, some of it is elsewhere. I figured you could do with a little more peace before it starts again."
"I'm totally stealing you from Kris."
"He pays me too well. But I do have a sister who does the same thing."
"Tell her she's hired."
Sara handed him a key card. "You are in 215. I'll call Carolyn. She'll die. Don't stay up too late."
"No worries there."
Sara smiled at him and winked. Adam opened his door, surprised as someone hugged him close.
"Kris? You came. I told you not to come."
"I don't care. I needed to be here."
"Thank you. For everything. Now tell me everything you've been working on."
Kris went on about settling with his label, and his work at creating his own production company. He told Adam he wasn't signing him.
"Really?"
"Conflict of interest. Executive producers shouldn't sleep with their artists."
"Ah."
"As opposed to oh?"
They both laughed. Kris looked at Adam for a long time, biting his lip. Adam kissed him then, slowly, savoring the feel of Kris's lips against his own. He sighed as he pulled back.
"Adam-"
"I know. But now it's me. I need to have a firmer footing. I don't want to look like I'm using you to get back to my old life."
"I know."
That night Kris laid against him, asking him about the musical ("Wizard of Oz? That's fabulous), his voice lessons, ("I had the last one yesterday"), and his hiring of Sara's sister (that's awesome.)
"Are you going to come see the musical? Can you stay another day?"
"I'm here for every night. I'm flying before you though. Have a meeting early early, so as soon as the curtain closes I'm out of there."
"Good. The kids are gonna die when they meet you."
*
There was press waiting outside the school again, but the driver took them around the back, and dropped them off. Adam rushed Kris inside, both of them giggling a little.
Adam told Kris to wait by the door. The students were there, beginning to put things together under the watchful eye of Ms. Campbell, the English teacher and assistant drama director.
"Hey everyone, I have a special guest here who would like to say hi. He's an old friend of mine, so don't scare him off, okay?"
"Whatever, Mr. Lambert. If he's an old friend of yours, he probably knows all the bad stuff anyway."
"Thank you so much, Peyton," Adam said drily, motioning for Kris to come forward. "Everyone say hi to Kris Allen."
Adam felt a tug at the silence that pervaded the room. His name used to get reactions like that. But Kris looked at him sternly, and Adam nodded. One day, maybe it would again. The kids (and Ms. Campbell) crowded around Kris, who took it in stride.
"Hey, I'm here for all the performances, so you can all have a picture if you want, okay?"
"This is so exciting!"
Adam rolled his eyes, and Kris grinned at him. The only person in the room who acted as if nothing had happened was Donna, who merely shook Kris's hand and said "It's an honor."
After the show, back in the hotel, Kris mentioned her.
"She's gonna be famous."
"I know. I told her to come see me after a year of college. She needs a little experience before Hollywood tries to eat her up."
"Is that the reason you want to go back? To forward your students' careers?"
Adam shook his head. "No. But I guess maybe if I do make it this time, it would be paying back karma. Doing right by God, I suppose."
Kris looked at him steadily. "I sat next to Ms. Campbell in the back. She said there have been parent complaints about the rock star deviant teaching their children."
"I know. It's nothing."
"Please don't say that. You always said that and it was never true. It was always something. Why do you always brush it away, Adam?"
Adam paused for a minute, and sighed. "Yeah. Okay. It hurts. But there was never any point in dwelling over it, was there? I mean I can't change everyone's mind all at once, can I?"
"No. But you can admit it affects you. I know I'm one to talk, but it helps to know. It helps because then I can be there for you."
"Kris-"
"I know you want to do this on your own. That you want to try again on your terms. But I wouldn't be where I am if you hadn't have been there, even as a just a friend. I want to be there for you. In whatever way you want me to be."
Kris sat on the couch, his face open and waiting. Adam didn't say anything at all. He moved so he was next to Kris, so he could pull Kris to him and hold him close. Kris wrapped his arms around Adam and leaned in.
"Thank you for coming even though I told you not to. It means a lot," Adam said, his lips brushing against Kris's hair.
"Thank you for letting me completely disrupt your life that you had so carefully constructed."
"It needed breaking anyway," Adam said.
*
Closing night.
Adam walked onto the stage, looking directly at Kris, then into the audience.
"So by now you probably all know who I am, and the circumstances that led me here. I wish I could apologize for misleading you, but I can't. See, I did what I did for a reason, and I won't apologize for trying to restart my life. I also won't apologize for being who I am. I never hid any other thing about myself than my name. So the fact that I am a famous gay man is so much more appalling kind of confuses me. But I'm not going to focus on that. Instead, I want everyone to know that these last two years, working with your children, have probably been the best I have ever had. That working with them has been my privilege. That I am honored and humbled by them daily. That if I never work again that this is the most proud I have been of anything I have ever been involved in. So without further adieu, welcome to the last performance of Wizard of Oz Thank you again, so much, for coming."
Adam snuck into the audience, holding Kris's hand, involuntarily crying as it unfolded before him. It was both the best and worst night of his life. The students presented him with a scrapbook filled with signatures and messages, and the principal came onstage and invited him back whenever he wanted for a concert if he liked. Adam nodded and walked out the door before he completely broke down.
Kris said nothing as the school disappeared behind them. They headed straight for the airport, the driver taking twists and turns so the paparazzi would get lost again. Although when Adam had gone into hiding at the hotel, which they luckily never found, they had begun to disappear again, chasing another story.
"So I guess I'll see you when you get to LA?"
Adam nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to see my mom for a couple days, then I have the taping for Ellen, and a week of meetings with Columbia, and then-"
"Shut up and kiss me goodbye, Adam."
"Okay."
Adam had fully intended to keep it simple, but found Kris half in his lap, hair sticking everywhere, Kris's hands laced through his own and pressing into the leather of the seat, both of them only stopping at the insistent knock on the window.
"I don't want to leave you again," Kris leaned into Adam's shoulder.
"If you don't open that door in one minute, I am opening it despite of your state of dress!"
Adam grinned. "I kind of love her."
"She's good to me. After all of this I think she deserves a raise."
Adam nodded as Kris gathered up his jacket and opened the door. Sara peered inside, giving Adam a stern look. Adam held up his hands in innocence.
"Kris."
Kris turned.
"When I get to LA I want my notebook back."
"You may have to work for it."
Sara let out an audible sigh, and Kris waved at him, disappearing inside the doors.
PART TWO