When Broken Joy Took Flight 3/3
TitleWhen Broken Joy Took Flight (3/3)
Author poppetawoppet
Artist chosenfire28 aka the most patient and wonderful person ever
Beta ashe_frost thanks SO much for reading.
Rating R
Word Count22,000
Pairings Adam Lambert/Kris Allen, Adam Lambert/OMC, Kris Allen/OMC, Adam/Brad Bell, Kris/Cale Mills
Summary a requested fic for ladyelphaba who PM'd me the longest prompt ever, which I'll summarize as White Oleander inspired Kris and Adam in foster care fic.
Warnings Dub-con. Underage sex. Language. VERY INTENSE SITUATIONS THAT MAY TRIGGER THINGS. Character death (though not Kris or Adam). Submitted for au_bigbang
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Kris remembered that day.
He had been told his parents were under investigation for doing something they couldn't possibly have, and that he was going into temporary custody. He hadn't had time to say goodbye to anyone at all, just pack a small suitcase and his guitar.
He had never seen a house like it, disorganized and messy, two guys yelling over a video game, another sitting disinterestedly on the stairs and a man rattling around in the kitchen, shirt unbuttoned and untucked. His caseworker was outside with Tati, and Kris thought if only Gina would come inside she could take him to another home, somewhere warm and familiar.
Kris knew better, because he had been informed by the kid next to him in the Social Services office that if he got a case worker that actually gave a shit, then he was doing better than most.
Kris watched as the boy on the stairs looked up, his blue eyes widening at the sight of Kris. He felt something inside shift a little. (Kris in the here and now would call it destiny, a notion he had picked up from Adam.)
"You must be the new kid. I'm Adam, and you look like you could use someone to show you around. I've been in the system for almost four years now, so I can teach you everything you need to know."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because fate told me to; because you look too good to learn things the hard way. Plus, I hear there might be a chance you'll go back to your parents. Unlike the rest of us, you have an actual chance of living a real life."
Adam had winked at him then, and Kris smiled. "Well, Adam, I'm Kris with a K, and I guess that makes me your eager student."
Adam's smile widened and he made a humming noise. "Hmmmm. Eager?"
Kris felt himself blush. "Not funny."
"Always funny."
Kris shook his head. "So where do I sleep?"
"We boys share a room."
Kris swallowed, because the guy was, well, beautiful, and he had to share a room with him? Talk about distracting.
"So how did you end up here?" Kris asked, trying to keep his thoughts off his new roommate.
"My mom killed her boyfriend almost five years ago. You?"
Kris set his guitar on the bed. "Well, I, uh showed up to school with this, um, really bad bruise on my neck. So a friend of mine reported it to Children's Services. And then they found other marks."
"Aggressive girlfriend?"
Kris shook his head. "Boyfriend. Except we weren't exactly out. And so no one believed me, said I had been brainwashed. So they sent me here. Said that there was someone like me here."
Adam sighed. "It's going to be a long eight months."
"What happens then?"
"I age out, baby, and I am gone from here. No offense."
"None taken. I've been here eight minutes and I want to leave."
Adam laughed. "Wait till she tells you to sell the guitar."
Kris remembered his indignation, and how Adam had shrugged and said he was going to lose the argument. A week later the guitar had sold and Adam had rubbed his back while he cried, telling him it was just an object.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
I remember your face when I told you Tati was going to sell your guitar. You didn't believe me until that last moment, your knuckles white and your face barely containing your feelings as the guy took it away for half its worth. I could feel you shaking as we went home, your hand vibrating as Tati handed you your share.
I was amazed you didn't break until we went to bed, because I had you pegged as someone who would break their first day. Then again, you consistently defied my expectations.
"My momma bought me that guitar," you whispered and I sat on my bed, trying to keep myself apart.
I already cared too much.
"Hey, it can't be that bad."
"If I'd known, I'd have left it, but my caseworker says I might not ever see them again. At least until I age out. I've never been away for more than two weeks."
I rolled my eyes because you seemed extra whiny that night. Then I realized it wasn't weakness, but grief that held you.
"When I first got here I had three suitcases plus a duffel bag of clothes. Do you know how hard it was to give up my clothes?"
Then you looked at me and smiled a watery smile. "Even if I get another guitar it won't be the same."
I walked over to your bed then, and laid my hand on your back, rubbing in slow circles.
"Nothing will ever be the same. Welcome to your new life."
"I don't want to change."
I said nothing. I didn't want you to change either. For the first time in a long time I had met someone who was genuinely good, without any of the hang-ups I had found in others. You seemed perfect to me. (You weren't: you were too quiet, you talked in your sleep, and worst of all you liked plaid.)
I braced myself for the moment you would fail me, just like everyone else ever had.
In lots of ways, I'm still waiting as I write this.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Kris blinked. It was pointless to read this. He didn't want to bring up his buried broken heart, but he was also desperate to know what Adam had thought of it all, how Adam had seen those precious months. Kris looked at the clock, and sighed. There should be just enough time to finish it before the day began.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
I could write every moment we spent together, and I still wouldn't change any of it. I really wouldn't change anything in my life. Everything happens for a reason: karma and all of that.
I remember the first time Alex made a move on you. It was interesting to watch because you didn't even realize he had had an eye on you. I admired your quick thinking, your glib tongue despite your red face. I should have told you about Ryan then, but I still hadn't fully processed it. I do remember telling you that nothing in your life could happen outside of your control.
You are in control of your life aren't you? I hope so. I hope that what you gained in the little time we had was enough.
I told my mother about you. Bet you didn't know that. I told her there was a boy just like me, and I was helping him. She asked me about you, about where you had come from.
I told her I didn't know, and she said that I should let you learn some things on your own. After all, she said, it made me stronger.
I didn't tell her that what my life had made me was confused, hurt and alone. I no longer had the need to rub salt in her wounds. It would be enough, if she ever got out, that I would probably never see her again. I had no need for another person in my life that only cared for what I did for him.
I remember the first time you went hungry. Tati had gone on one of her "off" days and there was nothing in the fridge. You had this look in your eyes that said you were going to lose it. But you sat with me instead talking about music. We sang what seemed to be a thousand songs.
The whole time, there was a determination in your eyes, a will to be stronger than you were supposed to be. I admired that. Above everything, your ability to do things no one would ever expect of you has been my favorite thing about you.
Two months after you arrived you kissed me. It was trash day-everything happened on trash day-and we were off on our own, making up a stupid song about picking through trash and wanting to run away. Then I asked you about home.
"So you have a boyfriend?" I asked.
"I had one at home," you said, your face shutting down.
"What was his name?"
"Cale. But I told him not to wait around for me. I asked my social worker how long it would be before I came home. I told him to date other people. It wasn't going to be forever anyway."
I stared at you, because it was the longest I had ever heard you talk since we met. (You're kind of quiet, okay? I don't mind, but when you do open your mouth, it isn't all that bad, so a little more would always be appreciated.)
"Oh," I said. (Okay, so I wasn't very talkative either. But I didn't want to talk to you much, because that would bind me to you even more.)
"What about you?"
I was scared then, because the only boyfriend I had had per se was Ryan…and Brad, but neither of those had been relationships--or at least healthy ones.
"I don't want a boyfriend."
"Oh."
I sighed. "Look, no offense, but I'm leaving in four months. What kind of relationship would that be?"
Then you said something that changed my life.
"If you don't even try, then you'll never know will you? I mean, love is the coolest thing that's ever happened in this world, and even if it's just for a little bit, then that little bit is, well, everything."
You ducked your head, your face bright red. I didn't know what to say. I had never had anyone in my life give me what you were offering.
"I don't do love," I said, trying still to dissuade you.
"That's okay," you said, a sly smile on your face, "I can love enough for both of us."
Then you kissed me. It was oh so careful, your lips gently pressed against mine, but your hands…
If I were to list my favorite things, your hands would be number two, I think. I pushed you away, murmuring something about only knowing me for two months or something like that.
"Aren't you the one who believes in karma?"
How could I resist someone who beat me with my own words? Plus, you are a good kisser.
*
I believe you remember the sex well enough for me not to elaborate. Though, two things: you have this thing, when you sing, where you throw your head back? Totally do it during sex as well. Also, you should take control more often. It's really hot. Like amazingly hot.
I remember the day I realized I loved you.
(Bet you weren't expecting that. I wasn't either. I thought I'd never love again. But you managed to sneak in there. You bastard.)
We were in school. I had almost quit, except I wanted to finish, because I'd worked so hard. Then you came along and I had someone willing to tough it out with me. We only had choir together, because I was a senior and you were a sophomore.
Sometimes you would have a fat lip or a bruise, but you never really talked much about it. (I wish you would have. I wanted to tell you not to come to school anymore, but you were too stubborn to let a few cuts get you down.)
Then there was the knife.
You were backed against the wall, and the knife was against your throat, Andrew's hand tensed to the point that any movement would slice your throat open. You didn't even blink.
"Look," you said. "I don't disagree with the nature of your argument. But it’s a common fallacy that should be rectified. If you let me go, I can assure you that this conundrum shall not occur again."
"What the fuck?" Andrew said, and his arm moved. I started to step forward, but your eyes stilled me.
"You mean you didn't understand? Let me simplify it then. Stay away from me and I'll stay away from you. Trust me. Do you know why I'm in foster care? You don't want to."
Andrew's hand didn't move, but he looked back at me. "Is this kid for real?"
"I'm not sure. I poke him from time to time, but he doesn't go away."
Then the unexpected (again): Andrew threw his head back and laughed. "All right. I'll let you go. Just be careful."
I watched him walk down the hall, then turn. You were still against the wall. I walked up to you and took your hands. They were cold.
"I can't believe you did that," I said.
"Me either. I think I peed myself. Wanna check?"
You were still shaking, but your eyes…
You looked at me and said so many things, but it was the fact that you could still laugh, even though you could have been bleeding all over the floor, the fact that you flirted with me mere moments after having a knife to your throat…
If there was a moment I fell, that was it. I didn't even think about it. My heart tripped quite happily into your hands. I had three months until I was gone.
*
I could talk about you for pages and pages, but you were there. Certainly you remember it differently, but you were there.
Do know that in several ways, you saved my life?
I set out to protect you, and it turned out the other way, didn't it? I have a feeling you do that all the time: turn people around.
Do know that you will always hold a special place in my heart; that you were right: it was worth every minute.
That the old saying: it's not you, it's me…
It could never be truer than now.
Please, keep yourself well; don't lose heart.
Remember what I told you.
Take care of yourself.
If we should happen to cross paths again, I hope we can smile at one another, if nothing else.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Kris stared at the book. It said nothing of why though. Adam had left with nothing but a wave and this, this journal shoved into Kris's hands, but no reason as to why.
Kris's breath hitched. He was supposed to be over Adam. He was calm, cool, his heart was cold and firm and he could live his life how he wanted.
He brushed at his cheeks and sighed. If he read the book again, he would find the reason. Maybe it was hidden somewhere between the lines.
Kris swallowed and began to read again.
*
The answer wasn't in the book. Kris had read it three times and it just wasn't there. He was supposed to start school again in a week and he didn't know how he was supposed to concentrate with everything going on in his head.
He was in an affair he didn't care about, a house he didn't want to think about, and now his heart had been ripped open again, and he didn't know how to fix it.
But he still went to school, because he couldn't stop himself. Plus, he wanted to see if he could manage alone. He had never been alone before. Matt was still in middle school, and Grace wanted nothing to do with him.
It wasn't too bad, as long as he remembered to avoid the right people. Being the quiet type had many advantages, one of them being that people mostly left you alone. He did get a couple of catcalls about his boyfriend, but whatever look he sent in return must have been enough.
Then one unremarkable day in October, Kris came home and there was a blue car in the yard. It had to be Social Services. Maybe there was going to be another kid.
"Hi, Kris," Jenny said.
"What's going on?"
"There's been a change. All charges against your parents have been dropped. Seems Miss O'Connell decided to retract her claim, and without any evidence, you are free to go home."
"Oh."
"Get your stuff while I talk to Miss del Toro for a moment."
Kris nodded. It felt like he was moving through solid air. He grabbed the photo he had brought with him, as well as a couple notebooks of lyrics and chords he had filled out. He added Adam's journal to the pile, and walked back out. Matt and Grace were still standing there, and Alex smiled lazily from the corner, his eyes on Matt.
"Are you ready?" Jenny asked from the door.
"Actually, can you hold this? I forgot something. I'll meet you outside. I promise."
Kris walked back to his room, his mind racing. He grabbed the guitar and hefted it experimentally.
"That's not his guitar," Tati said.
"Oh really?" Kris replied. "It's worth a third of the price of the one I brought with me. So unless you want trouble, shut up."
Tati recoiled as if slapped. Matt gasped, taking a step back. Kris winked at him, and turned to Alex.
"Two things before I go."
Alex said nothing, his face darkening slowly. Kris swallowed, never more sure of anything in his life.
"First off, I've only ever had three lovers, but you probably rank as the worst. Learn to be more considerate and you may turn out adequate."
Alex stepped forward. Kris shook his head.
"I'm not done."
He swung the guitar, wincing as it hit the ground. He closed his eyes, feeling the splinters fly past his face. He opened them slowly, and handed the neck to Alex.
"I didn't need a guitar. I just wanted to see if you would follow orders. Good boy."
Kris reached to pet Alex's hair. Alex's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.
"You fucking-"
"What is going on here?"
Kris smiled to himself. He walked over to Jenny as soon as Alex let him go. He whispered in Jenny's ear, watching her face fall, and walked out the door without looking back. He sat in the car and watched the rest unfold, the police, more social workers, the whole house empty.
He was ready to face anything.
*
When he got home he held onto his mother for longer than he probably should have. She looked at him in that way Kris always felt was reading his mind.
"You aren't the same. But you are. I don't know what to make of it."
Kris swallowed the gathering ball of tears in his throat. "Don't worry, Mama. I'm… I'm okay."
"I want you tell me everything."
"I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry."
"Then tell me who sent you the guitar."
"Someone sent me a guitar?"
She nodded and led Kris to his old room. On the bed laid a Gibson Hummingbird. Kris walked up to it, almost afraid to touch it.
"Was there any sort of note?"
Kris's mom shook her head. "No. Well, just one line. Make sure he plays the ones I wrote, too. Does that make sense?"
Kris blinked and touched the edge of the guitar. "Adam," he whispered.
"Honey?"
Kris looked at his mother. "When I got to the house, I was confused. Scared. Then there was a hand on my shoulder and a voice in my ear. His name was Adam. I thought he left me. Now I don't know."
Kris sat on the bed, trying to find the words to tell his tale.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Three years later…
Adam was tired. It was a good tired, always a good tired. The show had gone well. He sat in his dressing room and marveled a little bit, still wondering how he had gotten here. His heart twinged a little as looked at the article in the paper.
His mother had found someone to appeal her case. She was being released.
Adam couldn't care less.
Except that it brought back everything else, the one miscalculation he had made in leaving California.
"Are you brooding again?"
Adam grinned as Brad leaned in the doorway. "No. What are you doing here? I thought you were lying about the apartment being artsy again."
"I was, but someone rudely knocked looking for you. I figured it was best to bring him here."
"Him?"
Adam watched as Brad motioned someone forward. Adam's breath caught at the sight of the familiar face.
"Kris?"
"I'll wait outside," Brad said.
"Hi Adam."
"How-"
"The article, in the paper. The internet is a wide and curious place."
Adam sat and stared. "I-I don't know what to say."
Kris shrugged. "I'm only here for one reason really."
"What's that?"
Kris walked into the dressing room, eyes scanning over the articles taped to the mirror. "I figured out a lot of things, but the only thing that escaped me was why."
"Why what?"
"Why did you leave like that?"
"I don't understand." Adam felt his heart beating, but Kris looked angry, even disappointed.
"Why did you leave without even a goodbye? I mean, you told me you loved me… and then you left a stupid journal that told me everything but why, and I've been looking, and then the article-"
"I thought you understood that I wasn't looking for long-term," Adam said turning from Kris. He couldn't face him. "You seemed okay with whatever came our way."
Adam felt a hand on his shoulder. "A goodbye would have been appreciated."
"Goodbyes are overrated," Adam said and stood."Go home, Kris. It's better this way."
"Says who?"
"Says me!" Adam pushed away Kris's arm. "Don't you understand? You said you read the journal, but you persist like you don't even know! I'm no good for you. I'm so fucked up I can't even handle love when it's handed to me on a silver platter."
"Adam-"
Adam looked at Kris, into his eyes for the first time in years. "I left because if I had stayed, I would have broken us. And then I could have never lived."
He turned to leave.
"I slept with Alex."
Adam stopped. But he did not turn. "Why should that matter?"
He heard Kris laugh, and it made him turn back. It was a hard laugh, short, dry, and humorless.
"You broke us anyway. I slept with him because I wanted to feel something besides pain."
Adam wanted to close his eyes, to shut it out. But he deserved to hear this, after what he had done.
"And did you?"
Kris shrugged. "After the first time, it became a game. To see what I could get out of the relationship."
Adam bit back a question. Kris wasn't supposed to have turned that way. How-he didn't have to know anything.
"If you were going to leave me with your journal, you should have told me to read it all at once. But at least it taught me the art of manipulation."
"Kris-"
"No. One more thing, and then I'm done. I couldn't get you a guitar, because I know you don't play. But I got you this instead. Maybe you'll consider things differently."
Kris handed him letter.
"Kris, I don't know what to tell you."
"Then don't say anything. Just promise me you'll read it."
"Okay."
"Is he your boyfriend?"
Adam shook his head. "Brad? No. Once upon a time, yes, but we make better friends than anything else."
"Good. Because I'm not letting you go you know."
Then Kris kissed him, right at the corner of his mouth, and walked away. Adam looked down at the paper in his hands.
"If you were given a second chance at something so perfect you could barely imagine it, what would you do?"
"I'd read the fucking letter. Then I'd do whatever I could to get it."
"What if I screw it up?"
Brad sighed. "You abandoned the guy for almost three years and he came to find you. I'm pretty sure this is a lock."
Adam gripped the letter. He hadn't been this scared since they had first separated him from his mother. It was at least worth a read.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
This is neither as long nor as in depth as yours. After all, you know my story; you've been there for the most interesting parts.
I do have to disagree on one point: yes, I was there for the sex. I would have been interested to read your viewpoint.
I remember your touch, and how it never seemed to be enough, how desperate and sloppy we were, how we never took the time that we should have. That's what I would change.
You say that I was brave? I was scared shitless most of the time, trying to figure out how to get home and then trying to figure out how to make you stay. I knew the chances were slim on either, but I had to hope. After all, it's the only thing left, right?
I guess me doing the unexpected is a surprise to me as well.
Your belief in fate despite the fact that it had dealt you a terrible hand-I think that is my favorite thing about you. The never-ending faith that things happen for a reason, your insistence that there was some sort of plan for us all. It was a little bit like being home, just somebody redid the paint.
Though I may say, your hands are pretty nice, too.
I guess the reason I wrote this is because I want to tell you that you were wrong. I don't know why you left, except that you knew that you couldn't be around an underage kid without some questions. It was the way you left that hurt.
Goodbyes, no matter how permanent, at least give closure.
I made some choices after you left that weren't exactly the healthiest. I'm sure I told you about Alex, but I used him. I used him to get what I wanted, and for awhile, it felt glorious. Then it was boring. (Ask me someday about how I took care of him. You'd be proud I think.)
What I'm trying to say is that I'm not mad that you left like that, not anymore. I just want to know why you couldn't have at least given me closure.
I still love you. I told you I had enough love for both of us. Call it fate, call it karma, call it God's grand plan, but I'll always love you. But if you can't make that step, I understand.
It's hard to love when you've never had it before.
(I know, your mother loved you, but you understand what I'm saying. You practically screamed it from every page of your journal.)
I just want you to know, that I changed because of you. I hope that maybe, you could change because of me.
Anyway, I'm in town visiting my cousins, and if you want, we’re having dinner on Friday. Bring your friend, too. If you don't want to, that's okay.
But maybe it would be nice to at least say goodbye.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Adam straightened his jacket. He had turned away ten times already. Brad rolled his eyes every time, but he followed silently.
You have to try Adam told himself. Your whole life has been reacting to things out of your control. You've been in control for three years now. This is just another step.
He took a breath, and knocked.
An older woman, blonde, answered.
"You must be Adam," she smiled and gathered him in a hug.
Adam felt kind of ridiculous, because he towered over her, but it reminded him so much of Kris's hugs, he had to ask.
"You have to be Kris's mom. You hug the same."
She beamed. "I am. You must be Brad, right?"
Brad nodded warily, but didn't say anything as Mrs. Allen hugged him. He even gave her a rare and genuine smile. Adam began to realize it must be something about the whole family.
"Call me Kim, though. Or Mom. Just not ma'am. Makes me feel old."
"You couldn't be old. You must have had Kris at a very young age."
Adam stared at Brad, but Mrs. Allen only smiled. "Well, aren't you a charmer. Come in, both of you. Dinner's ready."
Adam had certain memories he liked to keep: the time on the train in London, the first time he heard the soundtrack to Wicked, Allison, chatting about bugs and worms, other moments. The smile that crossed Kris's face when they came into the room jumped to the top of the list.
Introductions were made. It was Kris's cousin and his wife, Kris, his mom, his dad, Matt, his adopted brother, his best friend Cale, Adam and Brad. Brad had immediately squeezed between Matt and Cale, asking them quickly if they were single. Adam waited, and began to relax when Kris's dad said, "Now, Brad, we have a rule. No flirting at the table."
Brad's mouth twitched, but he nodded. "It's cool. I already flirted with your wife."
Mr. Allen laughed.
Adam could barely contain himself. All of dinner was like that, laughing and smiling, and underneath it all the shimmer of love. Adam let it hang over him, mostly watching. Every once in awhile his eyes would meet Kris's and he would have to tear them away.
"May I please be excused from the table?" he asked.
"Of course. Are you okay?"
Adam nodded. "Oh yes, Kim. I just need some air."
Adam made his way to the tiny balcony and leaned against it, closing his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
Adam didn't turn at the sound of Kris's voice. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Feel. Like that. Is it all the time? It just seems so much."
Kris laid a hand on Adam's shoulder. "You get used to it. I, uh, have to thank you for getting me back there. I know it was you who called Katy and told her the truth."
Adam shrugged. He still didn't turn.
"Why won't you look at me?"
Kris's voice was small, and Adam's insides clenched.
Tell him. He deserves that much.
"Do you want to really know why I didn't say goodbye?"
"Yes."
"Because if I had tried to say goodbye, I wouldn't have been able to leave. I couldn't have done it. Call it cowardice, but I had had enough pain in my life."
Kris said nothing.
"It's why I can't look at you now: because if I do, I'll want to stay, and I don't know if I can."
"Well, the way Brad and Cale are hitting it off, you may be stuck with me anyway."
Adam snorted, and covered his mouth. He couldn't stop the laughter from coming.
"Not fair."
"Well, they are. It's kind of disconcerting."
Adam turned then, and looked at Kris. "Yeah. It is. I'm looking at you now. Are you happy?"
"I don't know. Are you staying?"
"I want to. I want this so bad, but how does it work? Adam looked down at his fingers."I suppose you've figured that underneath, I'm a bundled mass of insecurity. So I'm going to pretty infuriating to deal with. But tonight… Do you remember how I talked about the theater troupe, before all of this? Tonight was like that, like being home again. I want tonight to happen every night, and I think I can have that with you. I just… I don't know if I can love like you do."
"Adam." Kris took Adam's hand. "You bared your soul to me and then bought me a guitar with money you should have used for food. I think you love more than you think."
Adam swallowed. "Then you should definitely come stay."
Kris grinned, almost brighter than before."Actually, Cale and I were thinking of coming out this way, renting an apartment together."
"That'll make Brad excited," Adam said. "He's a heartbreaker. Be forewarned."
"Not my problem. Cale's a big boy," Kris paused. "So does this mean you'll let me come see you? Possibly date you?"
"No possibly. Definitely. I mean, we already got past the awkward sex and break up portions of our relationship… all we need to do is actually have a relationship, right?"
Adam couldn't keep the nervousness out of his voice. Kris walked over and stepped into his arms. Adam sighed as Kris leaned into his chest.
"So what do you want to do first?"
Adam laid his head on top of Kris's. "I don't know. Burn that damn journal I made. Start a new one."
"And what would it say?"
Adam looked to the west, watching the fading sun. "I don't know. That's why I need a new one."
"Okay. I have one for you already."
Adam laughed. "You had high hopes."
"You bought me guitar. That must have caused a lot of hungry nights. A journal is a small thing."
Adam shrugged. "I've been hungry before."
Kris sighed. "I have something else for you."
Adam said nothing. Kris had already brought so much.
"See, I, uh, want to get into music. So I asked around, and it turns out that there aren't that many bands fronted by single mothers who used to be in the foster system."
Adam blinked. He couldn't speak.
"It took awhile to convince her I really knew you, but then I described Tati and Alex to a tee, and I was in. She's getting married. She'd like you to be there you know."
Kris held out a piece of paper, a number scrawled just inside the fold. Adam took it, hand trembling. He looked at the number then at Kris. Adam didn't say anything, except tuck the paper carefully into his pocket and stand next to Kris as the sun set.
They stood there until the light completely faded, and Kim called them inside.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
When you handed me the blank journal, I knew that fate, for once had given me a good turn.
I don't know if I'm going to let you read this one. I don't even know how much I'm going to write in this one.
I do know that even though it scared me to the bone, I feel… I feel for the first time that maybe happiness is achievable.
I do know, looking back at everything, if for one moment, I could change it, I'm not sure I would either.
After all, it led me to you.
I don't know if I can succeed at being happy, but if I think if I focus on making you happy, I can do it.
I believe that people are more than what they seem, that everyone has something to say, even if I don't believe it at first.
Wonder what my mom would think of that.
Tomorrow, when I see you for lunch, I'm going to hold your hand and let my worries go.
Tomorrow, I am going to start living.
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Adam put down the journal. It was strange, this bubbling feeling of excitement. He was scared, that was certain, but for the first time since, since Gregory had conned his mother into a baseball game, Adam had the feeling of possibilities.
He looked out his tiny window and watched the sky, and it came to him. He rubbed his hand over the phone number he had memorized, and smiled.
So this is what it's like when broken joy takes flight. Maybe someday I can tell Megan about it.
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Okay this is me again. Seriously I have to thank ladyelphaba not only for the kind donation, but for trusting of all people, me, with this prompt. When I finished reading the book the first time, I felt I was in way too deep. So thanks to everyone at idolmeta and my kradio benches for encouraging me/enabling me/whatever. Lastly, to chosenfire28 The email you sent with my art meant a lot. You have no idea how much. Thank you for being endlessly kind, patient and amazing.
NOW GO COMMENT ON THE ART DO IT RIGHT NOW