FIC: "Strange Fascination"
Title: Strange Fascination
Author: clionaeilis
Pairing:: Adam/Brad
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~8,000
Song: Changes from Hunky Dory
Warnings: drugtrip fic
Summary: Labor Day, 2007: It’s 10 hours’ drive from Burning Man back to LA - Adam and Brad get high less than 2 days after their first LSD trip, and the journey home will turn out to be more revelatory and confusing than Adam bargained for…"I needn't mention how essential dreaming is to the character of the rock star."
Notes: "Although what you are about to read is a work of fiction, it should nevertheless be read at maximum volume." It is strongly recommended that you have seen the film Velvet Goldmine prior to reading. If you haven't, you might want this cast list handy for easy reference, or to check out the synopsis from this wiki beforehand. (Although, if you do none of these things, who knows you might get a contact high from the read!) All characters, images, words etc from Velvet Goldmine belong to the fabulous Todd Haynes. To any real-life type person who may be, or may know, the real-life people featured in this story - whaddya doing reading this? Crazy person, that's what you are - or someone extremely adept at compartmentalizing. You are all make believe to me, as is this story
STRANGE FASCINATION
After they drew lots for designated driver, someone lit the ritual fire, and began smudging the packed camper. While everyone else gathered around the fire platform to finish the last of the drugs, Adam pulled Brad to the side, and they had a quick heated argument that ended with a sudden detente. They came back to the circle, Adam sharing in the group smoke while Brad washed down a tab of E with the last of the OJ.
A half-hour later they were all serenading the playa as they pulled away, a camper full of dusty gypsy vagabonds headed back to their LA circus lives. Adam, who had claimed the lefthand side of the bed for now, was feeling warm and expansive and supremely chill. He laughed and let his arm drape loosely around Brad's shoulder. Brad shifted restlessly, turning his head to look into Adam's face. "Oh honey - you're going to fall asleep on me, aren't you," he stated in a resigned murmur. Adam just laughed again as he tried to keep his eyelids from fluttering to half-mast.
"Yeah, this isn't going to work. I need to move." Brad slipped out from Adam's grasp and maneuvered over and around everybody on his way towards the laptop soundsystem Julian had rigged up. He stopped every now and then to grope and be groped until he clicked on the music, the E starting to kick in for real now. "Time to shake the dust off your bodies and glam out, people," he said, commandeering a spot in front of the table and banquette so that his shimmying could be admired by everyone.
Adam laughed once more and looked around one last time before giving in to the languor of the drug. It was kind of cool, actually, to see the world in soft, blurred focus. The meerkats on Sonya’s stupid wall poster, for instance, looked way more interesting, especially the really tall one…
Oh yeah. Mmm. Still don't know what I was waiting for
He let out a sigh, the combination of body warmth, forward movement and bass line coalescing into a pulsating deep orange crack in the sky above his eyelids…
----
"I am an evil giraffe, and I shall eat more leaves from this tree then perhaps I should, so that other giraffes may die. I can make you a star." Jerry Devine bows before him, a cocksure grin playing over his lips, and looks him in the face with Neil's eyes. They stand in a dark cavernous soundstage edged in scarlet and gold fire, Elphaba writhing and spinning in a far corner as Neil continues. "So I finally watched that stupid Goldmine movie, and I still can’t get the gay off me. Xanadu is fucking Ibsen compared to that. Which one are you supposed to be? You do realize, it doesn't really end well for any of them, right?"
Every time I thought I’d got it made
He's wandering drunk down an alley in Germany, dressed in paisley and bell-bottoms, looking for a blue-haired glam god. He turns a corner to find a motley troupe milling around the street, Cassidy on stilts wearing an apron behind a pushcart. Adam comes back with shawarma and kebabs for the tribe.
But I’ve never caught a glimpse
It's almost dawn and they're running in the middle of the 401, crying from laughter trying not to get killed. Brad's hem catches in his stiletto, and he stumbles forward. Adam hooks an arm around his midsection and slings him over his shoulder until they're safely on the other side. Curt swoons as Adam deposits him back on his feet. He glows behind a brilliant smile, his face a door to his heart thrown open, "you could be my main man."
Turn and face the strange
Adam watches as a silver disc, all metallic taste against his tongue, darts just beyond his line of vision. It doubles back towards him and shards of cinnamon cascade over Brad as he steps into the spotlight. Brad is at the top of a grand staircase, dappled in blinding strobes, his makeup flawless, beehive impeccable. His coterie of beautiful hangers-on shuffles before him, creating space for Cheeks to glide effortlessly down the staircase to make his entrance. Adam feels acne-scarred, fat and blond.
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
“That’s ten bob for you, mate,” the bouncer insists. Brian frantically empties his pockets, but can only find Upright matchbooks and Throat Coat lozenges. He watches as Jack turns to step behind a makeup counter. “This will make your lips look fabulous. It’s one of our new products, a half semi-matte, half creamy glide-on lipcolor. Let me show you the Classic Dame red, you’ll love it. It’s my favorite, of course.”
Make me a deal, and make it straight
Adam breathes in a warm ginger draft, listening to it light up the alveoli in his lungs and then exhales it out, a corkscrew burst in D minor. The clouds in the sky shift like tectonic plates, the ground rumbling beneath him as he walks through chartreuse and damp moss. Wolves howl while a vortex of energy sucks up the starlight, then flings it back against his face, eucalyptus drops bathing his head and chest. From the center of the stage a sound emerges, one of primordial flesh, secondhand leather and implacable will. He is dumbstruck, frozen in place, head over heels. This man will change him, Brian knows this. Cheeks struts out onto the stage, jawline squared and crop in hand.
Take me on a rollercoaster, take me for an airplane ride
“Jesus, who do I have to blow to get another drink before Christmas?” He swept his free hand along his face to keep the black boa feathers from smearing his lipstick.
“That would be Ramon. Dave, no matter what he says, only works the door. Live and learn,” a sly voice drawled out quietly, just over his left shoulder.
“So, is that a hobby of yours, or are -“, his joke trailed off as soon as he got a good look at the man standing next to him.
“Or what? Oh my god, you think I’m a working boy - really?! How adorably delicious of you.” He grabbed his drink. “I’m Cheeks, by the way.”
“Yeah, delicious. Definitely.” He held out his hand, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m Adam.”
“Oh, I know who you are, honey. You killed it tonight. Killed it. Loved the mic toss at the end.” He paused, watching the compliment have its effect. “Just one teeny note, though.”
Cheeks gestured his hand in little circles just past both of their noses. “Think ‘beauty pageant’ a little more and ‘Broadway’ a little less next time you do your face. You've got such classic looks, I say flaunt 'em.”
You're so sheer, you're so chic, teenage rebel of the week
----
The narrow space by the kitchenette was filled with dancing bodies as Sonya and Lev bumped and spun around Brad. He could feel the moisture in the air surrounding them, a sloppy wet kiss that made him laugh, and love them more than anything. He glanced out the window when he pivoted fast to slip himself between Lev's arms, and watched as glitter went spinning from his wake into a cyclone keeping pace the next lane over. "Whoa," he said.
You caught me under false pretenses
Lev sheltered him against his chest with quiet concern. "You okay, gorgeous?" Brad hummed at the extra warmth, but his eyes were still captured by the distracting vision. "I can feel the E," he began, laughing as Lev playfully flexed his thigh against Brad's erection. "I've never had trails like this before, though." He closed his eyes to shake the effect, pressing his forehead against Lev's throat. "Like, I can hear your skin sweating." He paused, getting lost in the new experience.
Looking down at Brad, Lev rolled his eyes in affectionate exasperation. "You guys didn't pay attention to the Goddess at all, did you?" He swayed them in place for a few seconds, then rapped lightly on Brad's head. "Hey, what's going on in that stoned, pretty head of yours?" Brad groaned and wrapped his arms tightly around Lev's waist. "God, your skin is such a dirty talker, I want us to fuck, hard." Lev appealed to the group watching from the banquette. "I am so screwed, guys - somebody distract him while I tell my skin to shut the fuck up." Hands pulled Brad away as more people joined the dance party, Brad at its grappling and laughing center.
melting in the dead of night
Lev settled next to Julian as they watched. "So that's what E with an acid flashback looks like." Julian raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "That is gonna be one ugly crash tomorrow. Stupid virgins - she told them both they should stay pure until they got home. Hopefully Adam fell asleep before anything kicked in."
supermassive
---
Adam is in a dark tunnel, following a coloratura gleam out of the void. He shifts, and an album in his hand falls open as he hears his father warn, "Take it easy - if you break the Zeppelin, I'm not letting you near my music collection until you're old enough to drink. Got it?" Adam nods, rotating the image around while trying not to stare openly at the man in the centerfold, nude but for a grey cowl that hides his face. He can feel his dad's cool laser beam eyes upon him, reading his secrets, and tries to turn away. There's a hand at his back, and Adam reaches down to his father's wheelchair to hug his thanks. "Make a wish, and see yourself on stage, inside out," Cecil whispers into Adam's ear before the nurse comes to wheel him back to his room.
How long before you tell the truth
Adam sneaks away from a group of blue rinsed sailors with reading glasses dangling from their lanyards, and sees the familiar awning in front of him, its famous letters eddying and shifting, CUL8R OMFG. He is inside the club, looking for a bottle-blond punk tramp as he scuttles against the wall, Scarlett wailing and moaning on a postage-stamp stage tucked in next to the early bird Lido Deck buffet. He grabs a few chocolate truffles for Kristoffer on his way out, late for chorus and swings rehearsals.
You set my soul alight
It is near winter - Adam can feel the Santa Ana at his heels, and it sends a shiver up his back with a blast of heat. Silver and gold shards burst from the electric candlelight, and he watches it coalesce towards the center of the dance floor. The crowd is pulsing and writhing to an ululating beat, and Adam is drawn in, towards a backlit figure dancing eyes closed, shrouded in diaphanous glamoury. Brad spins towards him, face blazing to life, burnt ember eyes and blinding smile. “Do you jive?” Brad just laughs and takes Adam’s hand as they run for the welcoming forest.
satellite's gone, up to the skies
Curt and Brian are standing in the middle of a washed out parking lot, the noon sun bleaching out any distinct landmarks. They lean close towards each other, heads bowed as Brian turns the fur-lined handcuffs over in his grasp, a gift for Curt. The surf crashes at their feet, and legs and arms become entangled in empty fishing nets. They hold hands and swim to higher ground, towards the mall. Brad buys Adam a nacho cheese chalupa, tucking the cuffs into his back pocket.
Things like that drive me out of my mind
Brad slaps Adam’s hands away with his elbows, trying to keep a straight face. His hands are smeared cobalt-blue, an eye pencil clamped between his teeth, and Adam is squirming beneath him, breathless and horny, both of them wedged into the too-small kitchen chair. Brad manages to work the foundation onto Adam's chest and shoulders, then pumps his fist in victory. They are both spinning through the air, dipping and curving as the carnival ride pushes them close and then far away. All the laughing boys are bitching, stuck in the queue waiting for the next go-round.
I watched it for a little while
They’re tumbling back into a forgotten corner, slipping into the back of a taxi, leaving the trail to find a shaded tree, barreling through the front door driven by lust and adrenaline. Homme Dior, bergamot, monkey flowers, tamarind jam, bluebonnets, musk. They leave parties unexpectedly early, arrive at clubs hours late and smug, become regular no-shows at brunches, forget about last-minute errands. Lips and tongues locked in battle, Brad’s hands slipping beneath Adam’s studded belt, Adam’s fingers tracing Brad’s pulse along his neck while the other hand peels the threadbare fabric past the rise of Brad’s ass. The tease, the push-pull, the bared teeth and skittery breath, until all sound converges into a back-throated keen ripped from the faultlines. They are naked, sprawled alongside each other, sleeping against white pillows and strewn linens, an immutable and beautiful pair.
bom bom bom satellite of love
“Mmm, you like that, huh.”
"God, right ther- ohh yeah. Fuck, don't stop, keep -"
“Who's in charge here? Hush.”
"Please? I'm so close, it's - ow."
"What did I say? Hold still and don’t make a peep.
...
Arch a little bit more for me, that's it.
You're beautiful right now. Breathless, on the edge, so quiet.
Stop thinking. I'm not going anywhere, I've got you. Let it go."
...
"Man. I don't think I can handle that kind of intense."
"Shsh. No more talking. Just. Let's be here and listen, to everything."
…"Babe, you okay?"
"You have no idea - I don't even know the words."
"Come here, let me hold you."…
"Some days I can't stop shaking from it, you know?"
…"Hmm. Always feel full. Like, ready to burst."
"Exactly. And my skin prickles."
"…Goosebumps...yeah. ...nnm..."
"Adam? Are you asleep? I do love you, more than anything."
...
---
The camper parked in a strip mall a half-hour outside of Reno and nearly everyone stumbled out, bleary-eyed and peckish. Timmo and a few others made a beeline for the McDonalds, while the rest walked towards the supermarket in the far corner. Brad gratefully handed a twenty to Sonya, then ran back into the RV. The door closed with a snick as Brad threw himself at the bed. "Finally alone, thank god!" he cried as he landed next to Adam, propped against the bolster. "Ooh, I'm echoing. Echo, echo." Brad threw off his top and started tugging at Adam's clothes. "Scruffy, scruffy, yummy, yummy," he chanted as ran his hands over and around Adam's face, chest and stomach, exposing more and more skin. "Hey there, big fella," he sighed, prize in hand.
Brad had been horny forever, it felt like, and being surrounded by everyone except his sleepy boyfriend with a hard-on that could cut glass had made the last fifteen minutes sheer hell. He settled between Adam's legs and immediately took him in to the back of his throat, humming with delight. He started to work more deliberately, lavishing attention to the tip of Adam's cock where the harsh tang of salt made his mouth water, and soon proved distracting and irresistible. The licking and drooling and sucking and swallowing, and still Brad couldn't quench this sharp thirst coiling behind his upper palate. He batted away Adam's hand, resisting all backseat driving until, much too soon, he felt a drowsy tap on his shoulders.
"Well fuck me, that was stupid," Brad admitted as he wiped the corners of his mouth. Sitting up, he looked over at Adam, eyes closed again with a blissful smile on his face. "You were awake? Not so much now, huh." He nudged Adam, who snuffled and turned onto his side, dozing back into sleep. "So unfair," Brad complained, looking down at his erection and then back up at Adam until his face lit up with a devious grin. "Okay - you act like a big lug, I'm gonna treat you like one," he purred, tucking himself along Adam's back until his cock was lined up against Adam's ass. Brad thrust once, hard, hoping the unexpected pressure might rouse him to action, but Adam just sighed deeply, relaxing further into Brad's grasp.
"That was me, trying," Brad muttered, then began to rut in earnest against Adam. Only a few moments later, the camper door flew open. Brad swore and fell back in frustration, tossing a sheet over Adam's midsection at the last minute. "Goddammit, Sonya," he started, then rolled his eyes as Timmo clambered up next to him. "It's just me - I saved you a few fries," Timmo waved the sodden bag under Brad's nose. "Oh, my god, I am starving to death, how did you know," Brad said, cramming the savory food into his mouth. Timmo ate along, watching with a silent knowing gaze, until Brad was licking his fingers in delirium, then did the same. "So, now that both our palms are wet," Timmo suggested, eyebrow raised in proposition as he nodded towards Brad's hard-on. "I thought you'd never ask," Brad cracked in a bad British accent, groaning in relief as soon as he felt Timmo’s fist wrap around him.
It was a frantic, rushed and awkward thing. During rare moments of clarity when they weren’t lost in the heightened sensitivities the ecstasy induced, Timmo tried not to wake Adam, while Brad hoped they'd be done before anybody else came back. Ten minutes later they were helping Sonya bring in the bags of bottled water she'd bought, and Lev had settled in next to Adam for his own long nap, covering them both with a navajo blanket. Brad was cuing up the next dance mix by the time the camper pulled back on the interstate.
---
Switch me on. Turn me up.
Adam smiles up at his mother as she tucks him into bed, patting the unfastened drawstrings of his cape smooth against the duvet cover. "Style always wins out in the end. A tart, my dear, a tart in gildy clobber," she laughs, kissing his forehead goodnight. The starship above careens through the night sky, Allana at the helm in his pirate gear looking for Sirius, pointing north. Adam is onboard, leaning over the rail watching while Danielle practices dance steps in front of her parents' TV. A snow squall blows up in front of him, clouding his vision, and all sound falls away. He runs through the flooded downstairs hallway, banging on doors, desperate to find pretty little Billy Douglas before it's too late.
Baby's on fire, better throw her in the water
Adam's laugh is easy and he slings a loose arm around Brad's waist. Their eyes meet, and Adam can see the caramel taffy swirling around his irises, spinning and pulling him forward. They are mannequins, electric blue and royal purple, all fierce angles catching and refracting the light, which dribbles down the fabric wallpaper and antique ivory linens throughout the room. An English Mastiff wearing a loud tie smiles as he places the orders for the table. Adam looks down at his entree, suddenly armless. He looks out at Curt, who looks back at Brian with wide eyes, hungry for more. "I will mangle your mind."
I want to touch you, you're just made for love
The ski lift shudders to a stop. Adam turns to Oscar Wilde for more sunscreen to shield him from the Tahoe sun and sees Brad, miles away, ducking behind the bunny slope. A cacophony of horns blares at Adam while he watches Brad shovel wispy flakes into countless sandwich bags, the noise coalescing into a party line of New Orleans high steppers playing dancehall. Brad goes on, singleminded, while the parade absorbs him. Adam cranes his neck to point him out. "He's my boyfriend." Oscar cools himself with a feathered hat and comments, "'I knew I should create a sensation,' gasped the Rocket."
The feathers fall into a sky of deep violet and indigo, and Adam looks up as they settle on his face, mandarin orange zest. Now he is pressed among a screaming crowd of jostling girls, and a violent blizzard of white feathers hurtles back and forth in front of footlights and speaker stacks. "Put out the torches!" Adam spins around in confusion, trying to find the oracle. "Hide the moon! Hide the stars!" The spotlight crashes through his solar plexus and Adam turns his face to the albino creature on stage, a strange gleam in his eye.
Photographers snip snap - take your time she's only burning
Lightbulbs flash, a hail of jalapeno tang and platinum cymbals, and Adam loses track of Brad. The sidewalk distends and retracts in the artificial gloaming, then suddenly hands catch on Adam’s sequins and he is tossed onto the crimson riptide. He balls a fist ready to fight back, but is suddenly ignored. "We're in a decadent spiral, aren't we?" All eyes are fastened upon Cheeks, powdered and bewigged, holding court further down by the VIP entrance, as he extends his cigarette holder towards Brian. The crowd parts to watch the stardust couple reunite and ascend into the club. He take a quick bow for the voracious audience. "I am not really myself except in the midst of elegant crowds," Adam isn't sure whose voice belongs to which face any more, the masks seem to pinch and pull at him lately.
I need ooh la la la la
And that's what baby's been reduced to
”Whoops, better fix that, your bourgeois suburban asshole is showing again.”
"And what the fuck is wrong with wanting to buy a house?"
“There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with it, but that’s the dream of every Joe Six-Pack on the street, for god’s sake. I don’t give a shit about ‘wrong’, but Jesus, Adam. Boring? Is unforgiveable. And that has got to be the most pedestrian played-out ‘dream’, since - forever.”
“Whatever - everything’s boring to you, lately. I can’t keep up - one of these days, you’re just not going to be able to outdo the day before, and then how are you going to avoid being boring like the rest of us?
"Plan the perfect suicide - with matching outfit, of course."
"Right. I forgot, Cheeks has to win every argument - god forbid you keep it real for more than five minutes, Bradley."
Come on little danger, die a little stranger
“We can come home early.”
“That’s what you said last time, and we got home after 3.”
“Oh for god’s sake, it was a Friday, Adam! That’s early for us! I promise, you’ll be tucked in, snug as a bug, by 1:30 at the very latest. Pinky swear.”
“Come on, it's just your club crowd again, right? What’s the big deal, is there a birthday or something special we’re celebrating? ‘Cause if not, I’d rather - “
“Sit on your ass and watch another Bravo marathon? Christ, Adam, since when do you need a reason to go out?”
“Fuck off, Brad. This topic is beyond dead horse.”
“Fine. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. Are you coming or not?”
swear you're gonna feel my hell
"No, never mind. It's not your problem, it's mine."
”It's impossible arguing with you like this, you're so - you never let me in any more! I deserve better, Adam!"
"I don't let y - really, is that how you’re playing it now? Whose seen whose baby pictures, huh? Met extended family, old friends - hell, I don't even know most of their names, never mind met the important people in your past. You barely tell me anything, and don't give me that line about leaving Texas behind you, I read the phone bills. How about you let me in, Brad - Jesus, I've hardly even seen you cry, for fuck's sake.”
"I'm barely 90 pounds soaking wet, 5'6" if I'm lucky and a flamer since I was seven, you're damn right I don't - listen, I got the shit kicked out of me every other week during 6th grade, I wouldn't have survived goddamn middle school if I cried. Please! And don't give me your pathetic whining about being fat and pimply, boo fucking hoo - like anybody ever said that shit to your face, ever. You could weigh less than me and still look like a Mack truck, whether you're blubbering or not. And I bet the one time somebody did bully you, your mother reported it to the ACLU and threatened to sue the school, instead of telling you that it was your fault because you wouldn't go to church with her to pray the fag out. Just, get over yourself, Adam - not everyone can be your kind of perfect, all the time!”
“I never said you had to be, Brad!”
“Bullshit, and you know it.”
Can you feel it? I wanna fuckin' feel it
"- fucking queen bitch space-god on some fucking high horse!" Curt slams the flat iron against the vanity, staring down Brian’s reflection as Brian glowers back at him, hand on his hip. "I should think that if people were to get the wrong impression of me, the one to which you so eloquently refer, it wouldn't be the wrong impression in the slightest." Brian smirks in triumph, and grabs the cotton swabs.
"Throw me a line, I'm sinking fast," Adam sings with a pout, and Brad obliges. "Piss off, then! Go on! Back to your wolves, your junkie twerps! Your bloody shock treatments! And fuck you too!" Cackling, Adam dusts his hair with glitter, "Rock and roll is a prostitute! It should be tarted up! Performed!" He turns and blows a lewd kiss towards Brad.
"The first duty in life is to assume a pose." Brad camps it up, all limp wrist and arched back. "What the second duty is, no one has yet found out." He flutters his lashes, shields his giggles behind a posed hand. Adam wheels around and squares his body with a macho grunt. "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person - give him a mask and he'll tell you the truth!"
Brian slinks up Curt's body, a deliberate hair's breadth between them, and purrs against his neck. "The music is the mask, while I, in my chiffon and taff -," he snaps back into a ferocious vogue. "Well, varda the message!" he snorts with bitchy disdain. Curt takes in the sight before him with a predatory leer, then smirks, a gambler calling the bluff. "Varda this, pretty boy," he growls, thrusting his crotch into his hand.
"And they tell you it's not natural!" Brad wraps himself around Adam's torso, happily throwing the game with an open-mouthed suckling kiss to the hollow of Adam's throat. Torn between lust and competition with Brad tight against his chest, Adam hustles them towards the bedroom, "The curves of your lips rewrite history," whispered as they reach the bed.
Brad immediately twists around to reach the bedside table, tossing over his shoulder, "Histories, like ancient ruins, are the fictions of empires." He grabs the condoms and lube and starts to push down his sequin shorts. "Oooh, good one," Adam concedes, mid-strip. "You win this time." Brad rolls his eyes at the foregone conclusion, and tugs the leather free from Adam's legs. "Hurry up - I want to claim my prize now, mister."
Lady, if you want to find a lover
Strobe lights flash. They are spinning on a crowded dance floor, hips aligned and pressed together, arms entwined, eyes only for each other. Woodwinds peal over relentless drums. Bathed in the dark warmth of backlit candlelight, they grapple naked and breathless, wild exuberant joy of pleasure given, overwhelmed shivering awe of love received. Burnt smoked molasses and lipstick aftertaste. They are on display by the bar, prominent and gleaming, lemon-drop quips and provocative gazes honed by lust and attention, drunk from vicarious desire. Damp air, stale sulfurous, chlorinated earth. They are rutting and begging, growls and slaps against roughened brick, industrial glare splintering threads of light across tattered fabric and sweat-sticky flesh shedding glitter and green, ravenous for more, consumed by the show. The world bleeds away, into enveloping white. Smeared all over with pancake color, naked from the waist and leering, they writhe together, god and demon trapped into one peacock emerald figure - grooved tongue open-mouthed jeering laughter and piercing deadbolt-hard mahogany eyes that flash contempt - shredding brittle guitar chords as the four-poster platform burns, overtaken by copper flame.
'Searching, at the start of the season
A warm glowing heat suffused Adam's neck and face as the torchbearer passed by him. "Do you come before the Vision Goddess of your free will, with an open heart and a generous spirit?" Kyria's voice filled the tent, in a deep contralto Adam had never heard her use before. They knelt before her blindfolded, all five of the first timers; heads bowed, headlamps clasped in their left hands, water bottles in their right.
"We do." Adam heard the hitch in Brad's voice and knew that he was struggling to keep a straight face, too. She lit a bundle of sage and encircled each supplicant's head as she continued her litany. "Do you know the sacred vows, and will you honor and keep them?"
"We know them, we will keep them." Brad led the group a little too quickly as they recited their promises: to obey their guide, to stay with the group, to keep hydrated, and to restrict the ingestion of any other ingredient that might disturb or mask their sacred experience.
"Tonight, we celebrate the transformative power of creativity, the eternal cycle of destruction and redemption, hope and fear, past and future - as we watch the Green Man burn, we will initiate that same sacred power within our bodies, and bring it forth to commune with the greater power flowing around us, below us, above us. We will become ourselves and the world for each other, on this sacred land, on this auspicious night."
"We will become ourselves." The top of Adam's calf itched, and he flexed it to keep pins and needles at bay. From under his eyelashes he could see movement near the table. He squared his shoulders - finally, it was about to start. He could hear her murmuring quietly to Brad, and then Adam felt the brush of her tunic against his thigh.
Kyria stepped in front of Adam, gently stroking the side of his face, her signal for him to tip back his head, open his mouth and flatten his tongue. She placed a small square of blotting paper in the center near the back, then kissed his forehead. "Accept this gift of vision, my child. May it bring you knowledge, and may you use that knowledge wisely." She moved on, and Adam resisted the urge to swallow down or spit out the tab, tasting oddly of steel.
Quickly he felt guiding hands pulling him up, whispering for him to put on his lamp as the group was formed into a single file, left hand atop the shoulder in front. They began moving, faster than Adam thought possible, seeming long endless minutes of silent walking. Brad and Adam had checked out the route to the viewing area earlier that day, so he knew it was only a little ways away, too soon for the acid to take effect.
But already he felt like the world as he knew it had cracked open wide. This was not going to be like 'mushrooms, only longer', as he and Brad had convinced themselves. Soon after they reached the site and removed their blinds, Adam's eyesight began to flash with double-exposure bursts, the desert wind began chanting, and he felt huge in a microscopic body, insignificant in an endless world - the goddess, with her gift, was upon him.
I'll find some way of connection
Adam gasps and flings an arm out in front of him, suddenly on his feet descending a narrow stairwell, atop threadbare carpeting. His heart races when reaches the bottom, near the open door of a gentleman's lounge. Adam sees the outline of a figure, and edges towards the threshold until the full shape of the other man is revealed. He is holding a pose, angling his face away from Adam's sight, towards a gilt-edged mirror while he checks his jewels.
Adam is transfixed, unable to move, waiting for his cue...and the tiled floor is now planking, and he pads carefully down the gangway, keeping a precarious balance. He maintains a steady pace, focused on the ground in front of him, until the air horn sounds. Adam stops, looking for a midshipman to tell him what the signal means...and he is straddling two sturdy bars on the side of a tall platform.
He swings himself down onto the floorboards, to gather with the tribe downstage center, lights dimming as he strolls towards his mark. Adam suddenly notices he is already naked, and freezes in a panic...and the cross-strip blocking marks are now candlelit tables creating a maze he must navigate to reach the piano. It's a new accompanist tonight, and Adam is still three tables away when the music begins. He hesitates, not sure who is early and who is late...and he is running down a dark alleyway of scrims and brickwork as quietly as he can, headed to the backstage left mirror for a hair-check before his final scene.
Making a quick turn, Adam's foot catches at a pulley, and he goes stock still, breathless ...and he is 21 that very moment, dashing up shallow Art Deco steps in mock pursuit of a man just ahead, who is leading Adam to his apartment. The stairs wind up and up, and Adam can't help but laugh in amazement at his good fortune. He leans on the 5th floor railing to catch his breath and...
Adam is ascending steep concrete-block stairs. He can feel the crisp night air against his face, and he smiles, watching the sky slowly reveal itself as he nears the top ledge. He is there already, the ideal Adam seeks - there across the crumbling puddingstone and black tar rooftop, looking up to admire the pearl gleam of Venus, just beyond the skyline. Adam steps out onto the roof, dipping and turning around odd corners to come closer, to take him in his arms, to look deeply into the face still hidden from view. It is sunrise, and still Adam walks on, towards his destiny.
Then I'll lose you, still you won't suspect me
They sat and watched the temple burn, Brad’s back against Adam’s chest. “I wish this place really existed, out there. I’m not ready to leave.” He shifted so that he could see Adam’s face.
Adam smiled and brushed the backs of his fingers along the side of Brad’s jaw. “Yeah. Black Rock’s been pretty intense, this year. It would be great just to, I don’t know, camp out until our brains are ready to go back to the normal world.”
“Dear god then we’d have to live here forever,” Brad drawled, and Adam laughed in agreement. “And I haven’t done normal since the 80’s,” Brad continued, “no, normal is long gone for me.” He laid his arm atop Adam’s, slung across his belly, and they sat in momentary silence. “I just want to make it back next year, at least.”
Adam wrinkled his brow and pursed his lips as he looked back at Brad. “What do you mean - why wouldn’t we be coming back? Of course we will.” He nodded once and gave Brad a gentle squeeze. Brad’s gaze lingered on Adam’s face before he settled back and gave a quiet hug of his own. “Tell me more about the vision you had last night,” he murmured.
Adam propped his chin on Brad’s shoulder. “Mostly I was just, in one spot, almost frozen, for a long time. Then this voice started booming at me, and it came from, like everywhere and nowhere. I didn’t know what it was saying, but the world shifted every time the voice stopped. Finally, somehow I realized that it was me, or my power animal voice or something, but I still couldn’t understand it or figure out how that voice was even coming out of me.”
“Typical. You’re sitting on your butt making noise, meanwhile I’m scrounging everywhere like a crazy person,” Brad teased, steepling his fingers between Adam’s. “So what happened with the voice?”
“It sort of - shifted inside me, and became this, I don’t know, momentum? I never got inside the language - it was always strange - but somehow I figured out how to use it, and then when I did instead of the scenery changing, I shifted, went - different places,” Adam stopped there. “I’m still processing, I guess,” he demurred. Brad held an imperceptible breath, then reached his arms out in a lazy stretch, giving Adam cover.
"What about you and your scrounging," Adam asked, after they had settled back against each other and watched the temple embers smolder. "You know me, a busy bee," Brad opened with a grin. "No, but seriously," he continued quickly, when he heard Adam's intake of breath, "I spent most of the time chasing the horizon, or something like that. But it was never flat, I was always struggling upwards. Kind of Interpret Your Dreams 101, now that I think about it. I should get one of those books, when we get home." Brad kept his voice light and neutral. "It was just - exhausting, actually," he realized aloud.
---
Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face
Brad ran the back of his wrist across his brow, waved his hands in front of his face then let out a long sigh. He walked to the counter, grabbed a bottle of water and chugged half of it down in one long draw, and started fanning himself again. "Ohh, I love this song," he blurted as the music resumed, and turned to join the others - then realized that he was the last man standing. He slowly pivoted on the back of his heels, noticing the couples and trios collapsed in drowsy heaps over each other, buttermilk biscuits, relaxed and content.
The music pounded around him, for the first time sounding louder than it should. The crashing of piano keys scraped against his skin. Brad lifted the bottle to his lips and finished the water, hoping to shake the sensation away, but instead felt a cold wind sluice through the hairs on his legs and forearms. He dropped his arm to his side, and the gust returned, scouring his face and chest as it sought out the very molecules of his flesh to wipe him blank. Untouched, unattached - a desolate loneliness trying to enshroud him in its wake.
Brad shivered, then hurried to the back of the camper, trying to keep the sudden panic at bay. He stood by the bed, already crowded with Adam on his side and Lev on his back, feet dangling over the edge, and wondered if maybe he wouldn't fit in. But then he heard the storm force gale pick up behind him, so Brad pushed on, burrowing under the blanket to wedge himself in between, until the warmth of their bodies pressing against his was strong enough to keep the emptiness away.
Sometimes I wanna call you but I know you won't be there
----
"Baby, burn the coke. Please?"
"Are you crazy? I've been looking forward to this all week - it's just one line, chill out."
"I feel like then we're really breaking the promise we made to the Acid Goddess Saturday night."
"I don't know what you're doing, but yeah - I'm gonna get a nice buzz on for the ride home, uh hm."
"And that's it - you're doing coke and that's your plan, never mind me."
"I'm not having this stupid fucking argument with you again right now! I like a little 'snuff' for a special treat now and then, deal with it. Pretend it's my ice cream binge, okay?"
"You get this crazy sober, and you're surprised that I don't want to have to deal with you crazy and coked out of your brain, too? And fuck you and your cheap shot, that's not even what I meant in the first place, Brad. I wanted you to smoke up with me, that's all."
"Well, why couldn't you just say that, then - ask nicely instead of giving me an order!?"
"I said 'please'!"
"So you're a fascist with manners, congratulations."
"You are such a bitch, sometimes, seriously."
"I know. It's one of the things we used to have in common, Adam - remember? Back before you started channeling my mother? WE were bitchy and funny and the life of every goddamn party that was lucky to have us -"
"And I'm not having this stupid fucking 'Adam's become a boring fart' argument with you again, either! I don't want to end Burning Man like this, Brad."
...
"Fine. I won't take the coke. But pot's just gonna make me drowsy and I don't want to sleep again until we're home."
...
"I think Timmo has some E left. You could take that instead. I just want to kick back and relax, though - I'm tired."
To cease your sad demise - tonight we toast!
---
Brad's eyes flashed open in a last attempt to stave off a memory-riddled nightmare, but the rhythmic susurrations of the camper barreling down the highway proved irresistible. Before he let himself give into sleep, he grabbed at a favorite image, conjured up in the hope it would keep him safe in the dreamworld. Jack Fairy smiled a secret smile at a table for one, as Brad's soft tenor provided the voiceover, "It seemed that in some mysterious way, their lives had been his own..."
Oh I was moved by your screen dream. Celluloid pictures of living
The party is in full swing when they arrive, and Brad plunges into the mayhem. Bodies writhe on the dance floor, champagne fountains overflow, the smell of burnished leather and patchouli hangs thick in the air as the DJ spins a merciless bass and drum pattern around Brad's eyes, already blinded by the spotlight. He can only see darkness beyond the pool of light, and the floor feels cold under his bare feet. He blinks to clear his head, and he is at the bottom of a pigpile, laughing and giddy, as hands, legs, mouths and arms reach out to entwine and entice him further into the orgy.
He sees Adam across the room, talking quietly in a corner, looking for something - him, probably. Brad tries to call him over, but the press of bodies cuts off his breath and crushes him down. Panicked, Brad twists and turns, suddenly alone under a mountain of animal pelts and furs, until he is on his back, staring up the endless ceiling, watching as Adam crosses in front of him without seeing. "It's funny how beautiful people are when they're walking out the door."
Here's looking at you kid, celebrate years
Adam watches as the promised land rolls up and away, then leaps to catch up with his animal pack, festooned with fruit garlands, loping through the Milky Way. He barely reaches them before he is caught up by a whirling calliope held together with burlap string. He looks back as he drifts earthward, but the sky is now empty of its signs. The hurdy-gurdy monkey pats his head, and Adam starts dancing, happy of the movement, but confused by the faces that shift in and out of focus before him. He runs to the safety of a shaded nook away from the lights.
Adam slumps in a corner booth. Dani slides in next to him, shoulders close, and deposits a quick kiss near his ear. “You’ll be okay,” she whispers. “Monte said he’s not going,” Adam groans out. “And?” Dani rubs her hand over his. Adam sits back and meets her gaze. “I’ll probably sing more back here.” He sweeps his arm around. “I miss - all this. Partying with my friends, getting glammed up. The craziness.”
Dani shifts back, facing directly opposite. “People would kill - I would kill - to have that gig. And you’d rather be a club kid?” Adam rubs his head. “It’s gotten too schizoid, you know? I mean…I want to be a pop idol, the biggest thing since sliced Beatles.” Dani holds his gaze, and as the room begins to spin, Adam braces his head against the table to keep focus.
Adam sits back up, alone in an empty bar, staring at crimson stained cigarette butts and weathered maple paneling. He turns at the sound of footsteps, suddenly worn thin. “No more benefit shows.” The little boy tugs at his vest and tie and climbs into the other seat, waiting. The light fades to sepia and golden yearning. Adam looks away, and says in a hush, “We set out to change the world…and ended up just changing ourselves.” The boy leans over the table and pulls at Adam’s sleeve. “What’s wrong with that?”
Adam turns around and the boy is gone. He is on the landing of a ramshackle staircase, looking past dilapidated tapestries and crumbling chandeliers. In the far corner Curt and Brian lay sleeping in temporary bliss as Adam sadly answers, “Nothing. I mean…I just didn't know it was up to me to make it stop."
Your memory stays, it lingers ever. Will fade away never
Adam awoke with a sobbing gulp, his face pebbled in sweat, arm splayed out against the blanket. He wiped his face to break the spell of that last image, and took another deep breath. Brad lay next to him, lightly sleeping half on his belly, an arm draped about his eyes to block the light. Adam untangled their feet as he turned to watch him sleep, wishing he could see Brad unobstructed. Awake, Brad had the prettiest face Adam had ever seen. At rest, he was the most beautiful man Adam had ever loved. It made his heart ache. Adam moved to close the distance between them, hesitated, and instead leaned in to kiss the top of Brad's head before settling onto his back. The movement jostled Brad's arm away from his head, and shook free the moisture beading at the edges of his eyelashes. Adam watched as ‘Sacramento Welcomes You’ scrolled by in the picture window, eyesight blurred with glitter, tracing a ladder. They were more than halfway there, but home was still hours away.
Time may change me, But I can't trace time
THE END
---
Author: clionaeilis
Pairing:: Adam/Brad
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~8,000
Song: Changes from Hunky Dory
Warnings: drugtrip fic
Summary: Labor Day, 2007: It’s 10 hours’ drive from Burning Man back to LA - Adam and Brad get high less than 2 days after their first LSD trip, and the journey home will turn out to be more revelatory and confusing than Adam bargained for…"I needn't mention how essential dreaming is to the character of the rock star."
Notes: "Although what you are about to read is a work of fiction, it should nevertheless be read at maximum volume." It is strongly recommended that you have seen the film Velvet Goldmine prior to reading. If you haven't, you might want this cast list handy for easy reference, or to check out the synopsis from this wiki beforehand. (Although, if you do none of these things, who knows you might get a contact high from the read!) All characters, images, words etc from Velvet Goldmine belong to the fabulous Todd Haynes. To any real-life type person who may be, or may know, the real-life people featured in this story - whaddya doing reading this? Crazy person, that's what you are - or someone extremely adept at compartmentalizing. You are all make believe to me, as is this story
STRANGE FASCINATION
After they drew lots for designated driver, someone lit the ritual fire, and began smudging the packed camper. While everyone else gathered around the fire platform to finish the last of the drugs, Adam pulled Brad to the side, and they had a quick heated argument that ended with a sudden detente. They came back to the circle, Adam sharing in the group smoke while Brad washed down a tab of E with the last of the OJ.
A half-hour later they were all serenading the playa as they pulled away, a camper full of dusty gypsy vagabonds headed back to their LA circus lives. Adam, who had claimed the lefthand side of the bed for now, was feeling warm and expansive and supremely chill. He laughed and let his arm drape loosely around Brad's shoulder. Brad shifted restlessly, turning his head to look into Adam's face. "Oh honey - you're going to fall asleep on me, aren't you," he stated in a resigned murmur. Adam just laughed again as he tried to keep his eyelids from fluttering to half-mast.
"Yeah, this isn't going to work. I need to move." Brad slipped out from Adam's grasp and maneuvered over and around everybody on his way towards the laptop soundsystem Julian had rigged up. He stopped every now and then to grope and be groped until he clicked on the music, the E starting to kick in for real now. "Time to shake the dust off your bodies and glam out, people," he said, commandeering a spot in front of the table and banquette so that his shimmying could be admired by everyone.
Adam laughed once more and looked around one last time before giving in to the languor of the drug. It was kind of cool, actually, to see the world in soft, blurred focus. The meerkats on Sonya’s stupid wall poster, for instance, looked way more interesting, especially the really tall one…
Oh yeah. Mmm. Still don't know what I was waiting for
He let out a sigh, the combination of body warmth, forward movement and bass line coalescing into a pulsating deep orange crack in the sky above his eyelids…
----
"I am an evil giraffe, and I shall eat more leaves from this tree then perhaps I should, so that other giraffes may die. I can make you a star." Jerry Devine bows before him, a cocksure grin playing over his lips, and looks him in the face with Neil's eyes. They stand in a dark cavernous soundstage edged in scarlet and gold fire, Elphaba writhing and spinning in a far corner as Neil continues. "So I finally watched that stupid Goldmine movie, and I still can’t get the gay off me. Xanadu is fucking Ibsen compared to that. Which one are you supposed to be? You do realize, it doesn't really end well for any of them, right?"
Every time I thought I’d got it made
He's wandering drunk down an alley in Germany, dressed in paisley and bell-bottoms, looking for a blue-haired glam god. He turns a corner to find a motley troupe milling around the street, Cassidy on stilts wearing an apron behind a pushcart. Adam comes back with shawarma and kebabs for the tribe.
But I’ve never caught a glimpse
It's almost dawn and they're running in the middle of the 401, crying from laughter trying not to get killed. Brad's hem catches in his stiletto, and he stumbles forward. Adam hooks an arm around his midsection and slings him over his shoulder until they're safely on the other side. Curt swoons as Adam deposits him back on his feet. He glows behind a brilliant smile, his face a door to his heart thrown open, "you could be my main man."
Turn and face the strange
Adam watches as a silver disc, all metallic taste against his tongue, darts just beyond his line of vision. It doubles back towards him and shards of cinnamon cascade over Brad as he steps into the spotlight. Brad is at the top of a grand staircase, dappled in blinding strobes, his makeup flawless, beehive impeccable. His coterie of beautiful hangers-on shuffles before him, creating space for Cheeks to glide effortlessly down the staircase to make his entrance. Adam feels acne-scarred, fat and blond.
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
“That’s ten bob for you, mate,” the bouncer insists. Brian frantically empties his pockets, but can only find Upright matchbooks and Throat Coat lozenges. He watches as Jack turns to step behind a makeup counter. “This will make your lips look fabulous. It’s one of our new products, a half semi-matte, half creamy glide-on lipcolor. Let me show you the Classic Dame red, you’ll love it. It’s my favorite, of course.”
Make me a deal, and make it straight
Adam breathes in a warm ginger draft, listening to it light up the alveoli in his lungs and then exhales it out, a corkscrew burst in D minor. The clouds in the sky shift like tectonic plates, the ground rumbling beneath him as he walks through chartreuse and damp moss. Wolves howl while a vortex of energy sucks up the starlight, then flings it back against his face, eucalyptus drops bathing his head and chest. From the center of the stage a sound emerges, one of primordial flesh, secondhand leather and implacable will. He is dumbstruck, frozen in place, head over heels. This man will change him, Brian knows this. Cheeks struts out onto the stage, jawline squared and crop in hand.
Take me on a rollercoaster, take me for an airplane ride
“Jesus, who do I have to blow to get another drink before Christmas?” He swept his free hand along his face to keep the black boa feathers from smearing his lipstick.
“That would be Ramon. Dave, no matter what he says, only works the door. Live and learn,” a sly voice drawled out quietly, just over his left shoulder.
“So, is that a hobby of yours, or are -“, his joke trailed off as soon as he got a good look at the man standing next to him.
“Or what? Oh my god, you think I’m a working boy - really?! How adorably delicious of you.” He grabbed his drink. “I’m Cheeks, by the way.”
“Yeah, delicious. Definitely.” He held out his hand, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m Adam.”
“Oh, I know who you are, honey. You killed it tonight. Killed it. Loved the mic toss at the end.” He paused, watching the compliment have its effect. “Just one teeny note, though.”
Cheeks gestured his hand in little circles just past both of their noses. “Think ‘beauty pageant’ a little more and ‘Broadway’ a little less next time you do your face. You've got such classic looks, I say flaunt 'em.”
You're so sheer, you're so chic, teenage rebel of the week
----
The narrow space by the kitchenette was filled with dancing bodies as Sonya and Lev bumped and spun around Brad. He could feel the moisture in the air surrounding them, a sloppy wet kiss that made him laugh, and love them more than anything. He glanced out the window when he pivoted fast to slip himself between Lev's arms, and watched as glitter went spinning from his wake into a cyclone keeping pace the next lane over. "Whoa," he said.
You caught me under false pretenses
Lev sheltered him against his chest with quiet concern. "You okay, gorgeous?" Brad hummed at the extra warmth, but his eyes were still captured by the distracting vision. "I can feel the E," he began, laughing as Lev playfully flexed his thigh against Brad's erection. "I've never had trails like this before, though." He closed his eyes to shake the effect, pressing his forehead against Lev's throat. "Like, I can hear your skin sweating." He paused, getting lost in the new experience.
Looking down at Brad, Lev rolled his eyes in affectionate exasperation. "You guys didn't pay attention to the Goddess at all, did you?" He swayed them in place for a few seconds, then rapped lightly on Brad's head. "Hey, what's going on in that stoned, pretty head of yours?" Brad groaned and wrapped his arms tightly around Lev's waist. "God, your skin is such a dirty talker, I want us to fuck, hard." Lev appealed to the group watching from the banquette. "I am so screwed, guys - somebody distract him while I tell my skin to shut the fuck up." Hands pulled Brad away as more people joined the dance party, Brad at its grappling and laughing center.
melting in the dead of night
Lev settled next to Julian as they watched. "So that's what E with an acid flashback looks like." Julian raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "That is gonna be one ugly crash tomorrow. Stupid virgins - she told them both they should stay pure until they got home. Hopefully Adam fell asleep before anything kicked in."
supermassive
---
Adam is in a dark tunnel, following a coloratura gleam out of the void. He shifts, and an album in his hand falls open as he hears his father warn, "Take it easy - if you break the Zeppelin, I'm not letting you near my music collection until you're old enough to drink. Got it?" Adam nods, rotating the image around while trying not to stare openly at the man in the centerfold, nude but for a grey cowl that hides his face. He can feel his dad's cool laser beam eyes upon him, reading his secrets, and tries to turn away. There's a hand at his back, and Adam reaches down to his father's wheelchair to hug his thanks. "Make a wish, and see yourself on stage, inside out," Cecil whispers into Adam's ear before the nurse comes to wheel him back to his room.
How long before you tell the truth
Adam sneaks away from a group of blue rinsed sailors with reading glasses dangling from their lanyards, and sees the familiar awning in front of him, its famous letters eddying and shifting, CUL8R OMFG. He is inside the club, looking for a bottle-blond punk tramp as he scuttles against the wall, Scarlett wailing and moaning on a postage-stamp stage tucked in next to the early bird Lido Deck buffet. He grabs a few chocolate truffles for Kristoffer on his way out, late for chorus and swings rehearsals.
You set my soul alight
It is near winter - Adam can feel the Santa Ana at his heels, and it sends a shiver up his back with a blast of heat. Silver and gold shards burst from the electric candlelight, and he watches it coalesce towards the center of the dance floor. The crowd is pulsing and writhing to an ululating beat, and Adam is drawn in, towards a backlit figure dancing eyes closed, shrouded in diaphanous glamoury. Brad spins towards him, face blazing to life, burnt ember eyes and blinding smile. “Do you jive?” Brad just laughs and takes Adam’s hand as they run for the welcoming forest.
satellite's gone, up to the skies
Curt and Brian are standing in the middle of a washed out parking lot, the noon sun bleaching out any distinct landmarks. They lean close towards each other, heads bowed as Brian turns the fur-lined handcuffs over in his grasp, a gift for Curt. The surf crashes at their feet, and legs and arms become entangled in empty fishing nets. They hold hands and swim to higher ground, towards the mall. Brad buys Adam a nacho cheese chalupa, tucking the cuffs into his back pocket.
Things like that drive me out of my mind
Brad slaps Adam’s hands away with his elbows, trying to keep a straight face. His hands are smeared cobalt-blue, an eye pencil clamped between his teeth, and Adam is squirming beneath him, breathless and horny, both of them wedged into the too-small kitchen chair. Brad manages to work the foundation onto Adam's chest and shoulders, then pumps his fist in victory. They are both spinning through the air, dipping and curving as the carnival ride pushes them close and then far away. All the laughing boys are bitching, stuck in the queue waiting for the next go-round.
I watched it for a little while
They’re tumbling back into a forgotten corner, slipping into the back of a taxi, leaving the trail to find a shaded tree, barreling through the front door driven by lust and adrenaline. Homme Dior, bergamot, monkey flowers, tamarind jam, bluebonnets, musk. They leave parties unexpectedly early, arrive at clubs hours late and smug, become regular no-shows at brunches, forget about last-minute errands. Lips and tongues locked in battle, Brad’s hands slipping beneath Adam’s studded belt, Adam’s fingers tracing Brad’s pulse along his neck while the other hand peels the threadbare fabric past the rise of Brad’s ass. The tease, the push-pull, the bared teeth and skittery breath, until all sound converges into a back-throated keen ripped from the faultlines. They are naked, sprawled alongside each other, sleeping against white pillows and strewn linens, an immutable and beautiful pair.
bom bom bom satellite of love
“Mmm, you like that, huh.”
"God, right ther- ohh yeah. Fuck, don't stop, keep -"
“Who's in charge here? Hush.”
"Please? I'm so close, it's - ow."
"What did I say? Hold still and don’t make a peep.
...
Arch a little bit more for me, that's it.
You're beautiful right now. Breathless, on the edge, so quiet.
Stop thinking. I'm not going anywhere, I've got you. Let it go."
...
"Man. I don't think I can handle that kind of intense."
"Shsh. No more talking. Just. Let's be here and listen, to everything."
…"Babe, you okay?"
"You have no idea - I don't even know the words."
"Come here, let me hold you."…
"Some days I can't stop shaking from it, you know?"
…"Hmm. Always feel full. Like, ready to burst."
"Exactly. And my skin prickles."
"…Goosebumps...yeah. ...nnm..."
"Adam? Are you asleep? I do love you, more than anything."
...
---
The camper parked in a strip mall a half-hour outside of Reno and nearly everyone stumbled out, bleary-eyed and peckish. Timmo and a few others made a beeline for the McDonalds, while the rest walked towards the supermarket in the far corner. Brad gratefully handed a twenty to Sonya, then ran back into the RV. The door closed with a snick as Brad threw himself at the bed. "Finally alone, thank god!" he cried as he landed next to Adam, propped against the bolster. "Ooh, I'm echoing. Echo, echo." Brad threw off his top and started tugging at Adam's clothes. "Scruffy, scruffy, yummy, yummy," he chanted as ran his hands over and around Adam's face, chest and stomach, exposing more and more skin. "Hey there, big fella," he sighed, prize in hand.
Brad had been horny forever, it felt like, and being surrounded by everyone except his sleepy boyfriend with a hard-on that could cut glass had made the last fifteen minutes sheer hell. He settled between Adam's legs and immediately took him in to the back of his throat, humming with delight. He started to work more deliberately, lavishing attention to the tip of Adam's cock where the harsh tang of salt made his mouth water, and soon proved distracting and irresistible. The licking and drooling and sucking and swallowing, and still Brad couldn't quench this sharp thirst coiling behind his upper palate. He batted away Adam's hand, resisting all backseat driving until, much too soon, he felt a drowsy tap on his shoulders.
"Well fuck me, that was stupid," Brad admitted as he wiped the corners of his mouth. Sitting up, he looked over at Adam, eyes closed again with a blissful smile on his face. "You were awake? Not so much now, huh." He nudged Adam, who snuffled and turned onto his side, dozing back into sleep. "So unfair," Brad complained, looking down at his erection and then back up at Adam until his face lit up with a devious grin. "Okay - you act like a big lug, I'm gonna treat you like one," he purred, tucking himself along Adam's back until his cock was lined up against Adam's ass. Brad thrust once, hard, hoping the unexpected pressure might rouse him to action, but Adam just sighed deeply, relaxing further into Brad's grasp.
"That was me, trying," Brad muttered, then began to rut in earnest against Adam. Only a few moments later, the camper door flew open. Brad swore and fell back in frustration, tossing a sheet over Adam's midsection at the last minute. "Goddammit, Sonya," he started, then rolled his eyes as Timmo clambered up next to him. "It's just me - I saved you a few fries," Timmo waved the sodden bag under Brad's nose. "Oh, my god, I am starving to death, how did you know," Brad said, cramming the savory food into his mouth. Timmo ate along, watching with a silent knowing gaze, until Brad was licking his fingers in delirium, then did the same. "So, now that both our palms are wet," Timmo suggested, eyebrow raised in proposition as he nodded towards Brad's hard-on. "I thought you'd never ask," Brad cracked in a bad British accent, groaning in relief as soon as he felt Timmo’s fist wrap around him.
It was a frantic, rushed and awkward thing. During rare moments of clarity when they weren’t lost in the heightened sensitivities the ecstasy induced, Timmo tried not to wake Adam, while Brad hoped they'd be done before anybody else came back. Ten minutes later they were helping Sonya bring in the bags of bottled water she'd bought, and Lev had settled in next to Adam for his own long nap, covering them both with a navajo blanket. Brad was cuing up the next dance mix by the time the camper pulled back on the interstate.
---
Switch me on. Turn me up.
Adam smiles up at his mother as she tucks him into bed, patting the unfastened drawstrings of his cape smooth against the duvet cover. "Style always wins out in the end. A tart, my dear, a tart in gildy clobber," she laughs, kissing his forehead goodnight. The starship above careens through the night sky, Allana at the helm in his pirate gear looking for Sirius, pointing north. Adam is onboard, leaning over the rail watching while Danielle practices dance steps in front of her parents' TV. A snow squall blows up in front of him, clouding his vision, and all sound falls away. He runs through the flooded downstairs hallway, banging on doors, desperate to find pretty little Billy Douglas before it's too late.
Baby's on fire, better throw her in the water
Adam's laugh is easy and he slings a loose arm around Brad's waist. Their eyes meet, and Adam can see the caramel taffy swirling around his irises, spinning and pulling him forward. They are mannequins, electric blue and royal purple, all fierce angles catching and refracting the light, which dribbles down the fabric wallpaper and antique ivory linens throughout the room. An English Mastiff wearing a loud tie smiles as he places the orders for the table. Adam looks down at his entree, suddenly armless. He looks out at Curt, who looks back at Brian with wide eyes, hungry for more. "I will mangle your mind."
I want to touch you, you're just made for love
The ski lift shudders to a stop. Adam turns to Oscar Wilde for more sunscreen to shield him from the Tahoe sun and sees Brad, miles away, ducking behind the bunny slope. A cacophony of horns blares at Adam while he watches Brad shovel wispy flakes into countless sandwich bags, the noise coalescing into a party line of New Orleans high steppers playing dancehall. Brad goes on, singleminded, while the parade absorbs him. Adam cranes his neck to point him out. "He's my boyfriend." Oscar cools himself with a feathered hat and comments, "'I knew I should create a sensation,' gasped the Rocket."
The feathers fall into a sky of deep violet and indigo, and Adam looks up as they settle on his face, mandarin orange zest. Now he is pressed among a screaming crowd of jostling girls, and a violent blizzard of white feathers hurtles back and forth in front of footlights and speaker stacks. "Put out the torches!" Adam spins around in confusion, trying to find the oracle. "Hide the moon! Hide the stars!" The spotlight crashes through his solar plexus and Adam turns his face to the albino creature on stage, a strange gleam in his eye.
Photographers snip snap - take your time she's only burning
Lightbulbs flash, a hail of jalapeno tang and platinum cymbals, and Adam loses track of Brad. The sidewalk distends and retracts in the artificial gloaming, then suddenly hands catch on Adam’s sequins and he is tossed onto the crimson riptide. He balls a fist ready to fight back, but is suddenly ignored. "We're in a decadent spiral, aren't we?" All eyes are fastened upon Cheeks, powdered and bewigged, holding court further down by the VIP entrance, as he extends his cigarette holder towards Brian. The crowd parts to watch the stardust couple reunite and ascend into the club. He take a quick bow for the voracious audience. "I am not really myself except in the midst of elegant crowds," Adam isn't sure whose voice belongs to which face any more, the masks seem to pinch and pull at him lately.
I need ooh la la la la
And that's what baby's been reduced to
”Whoops, better fix that, your bourgeois suburban asshole is showing again.”
"And what the fuck is wrong with wanting to buy a house?"
“There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with it, but that’s the dream of every Joe Six-Pack on the street, for god’s sake. I don’t give a shit about ‘wrong’, but Jesus, Adam. Boring? Is unforgiveable. And that has got to be the most pedestrian played-out ‘dream’, since - forever.”
“Whatever - everything’s boring to you, lately. I can’t keep up - one of these days, you’re just not going to be able to outdo the day before, and then how are you going to avoid being boring like the rest of us?
"Plan the perfect suicide - with matching outfit, of course."
"Right. I forgot, Cheeks has to win every argument - god forbid you keep it real for more than five minutes, Bradley."
Come on little danger, die a little stranger
“We can come home early.”
“That’s what you said last time, and we got home after 3.”
“Oh for god’s sake, it was a Friday, Adam! That’s early for us! I promise, you’ll be tucked in, snug as a bug, by 1:30 at the very latest. Pinky swear.”
“Come on, it's just your club crowd again, right? What’s the big deal, is there a birthday or something special we’re celebrating? ‘Cause if not, I’d rather - “
“Sit on your ass and watch another Bravo marathon? Christ, Adam, since when do you need a reason to go out?”
“Fuck off, Brad. This topic is beyond dead horse.”
“Fine. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. Are you coming or not?”
swear you're gonna feel my hell
"No, never mind. It's not your problem, it's mine."
”It's impossible arguing with you like this, you're so - you never let me in any more! I deserve better, Adam!"
"I don't let y - really, is that how you’re playing it now? Whose seen whose baby pictures, huh? Met extended family, old friends - hell, I don't even know most of their names, never mind met the important people in your past. You barely tell me anything, and don't give me that line about leaving Texas behind you, I read the phone bills. How about you let me in, Brad - Jesus, I've hardly even seen you cry, for fuck's sake.”
"I'm barely 90 pounds soaking wet, 5'6" if I'm lucky and a flamer since I was seven, you're damn right I don't - listen, I got the shit kicked out of me every other week during 6th grade, I wouldn't have survived goddamn middle school if I cried. Please! And don't give me your pathetic whining about being fat and pimply, boo fucking hoo - like anybody ever said that shit to your face, ever. You could weigh less than me and still look like a Mack truck, whether you're blubbering or not. And I bet the one time somebody did bully you, your mother reported it to the ACLU and threatened to sue the school, instead of telling you that it was your fault because you wouldn't go to church with her to pray the fag out. Just, get over yourself, Adam - not everyone can be your kind of perfect, all the time!”
“I never said you had to be, Brad!”
“Bullshit, and you know it.”
Can you feel it? I wanna fuckin' feel it
"- fucking queen bitch space-god on some fucking high horse!" Curt slams the flat iron against the vanity, staring down Brian’s reflection as Brian glowers back at him, hand on his hip. "I should think that if people were to get the wrong impression of me, the one to which you so eloquently refer, it wouldn't be the wrong impression in the slightest." Brian smirks in triumph, and grabs the cotton swabs.
"Throw me a line, I'm sinking fast," Adam sings with a pout, and Brad obliges. "Piss off, then! Go on! Back to your wolves, your junkie twerps! Your bloody shock treatments! And fuck you too!" Cackling, Adam dusts his hair with glitter, "Rock and roll is a prostitute! It should be tarted up! Performed!" He turns and blows a lewd kiss towards Brad.
"The first duty in life is to assume a pose." Brad camps it up, all limp wrist and arched back. "What the second duty is, no one has yet found out." He flutters his lashes, shields his giggles behind a posed hand. Adam wheels around and squares his body with a macho grunt. "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person - give him a mask and he'll tell you the truth!"
Brian slinks up Curt's body, a deliberate hair's breadth between them, and purrs against his neck. "The music is the mask, while I, in my chiffon and taff -," he snaps back into a ferocious vogue. "Well, varda the message!" he snorts with bitchy disdain. Curt takes in the sight before him with a predatory leer, then smirks, a gambler calling the bluff. "Varda this, pretty boy," he growls, thrusting his crotch into his hand.
"And they tell you it's not natural!" Brad wraps himself around Adam's torso, happily throwing the game with an open-mouthed suckling kiss to the hollow of Adam's throat. Torn between lust and competition with Brad tight against his chest, Adam hustles them towards the bedroom, "The curves of your lips rewrite history," whispered as they reach the bed.
Brad immediately twists around to reach the bedside table, tossing over his shoulder, "Histories, like ancient ruins, are the fictions of empires." He grabs the condoms and lube and starts to push down his sequin shorts. "Oooh, good one," Adam concedes, mid-strip. "You win this time." Brad rolls his eyes at the foregone conclusion, and tugs the leather free from Adam's legs. "Hurry up - I want to claim my prize now, mister."
Lady, if you want to find a lover
Strobe lights flash. They are spinning on a crowded dance floor, hips aligned and pressed together, arms entwined, eyes only for each other. Woodwinds peal over relentless drums. Bathed in the dark warmth of backlit candlelight, they grapple naked and breathless, wild exuberant joy of pleasure given, overwhelmed shivering awe of love received. Burnt smoked molasses and lipstick aftertaste. They are on display by the bar, prominent and gleaming, lemon-drop quips and provocative gazes honed by lust and attention, drunk from vicarious desire. Damp air, stale sulfurous, chlorinated earth. They are rutting and begging, growls and slaps against roughened brick, industrial glare splintering threads of light across tattered fabric and sweat-sticky flesh shedding glitter and green, ravenous for more, consumed by the show. The world bleeds away, into enveloping white. Smeared all over with pancake color, naked from the waist and leering, they writhe together, god and demon trapped into one peacock emerald figure - grooved tongue open-mouthed jeering laughter and piercing deadbolt-hard mahogany eyes that flash contempt - shredding brittle guitar chords as the four-poster platform burns, overtaken by copper flame.
'Searching, at the start of the season
A warm glowing heat suffused Adam's neck and face as the torchbearer passed by him. "Do you come before the Vision Goddess of your free will, with an open heart and a generous spirit?" Kyria's voice filled the tent, in a deep contralto Adam had never heard her use before. They knelt before her blindfolded, all five of the first timers; heads bowed, headlamps clasped in their left hands, water bottles in their right.
"We do." Adam heard the hitch in Brad's voice and knew that he was struggling to keep a straight face, too. She lit a bundle of sage and encircled each supplicant's head as she continued her litany. "Do you know the sacred vows, and will you honor and keep them?"
"We know them, we will keep them." Brad led the group a little too quickly as they recited their promises: to obey their guide, to stay with the group, to keep hydrated, and to restrict the ingestion of any other ingredient that might disturb or mask their sacred experience.
"Tonight, we celebrate the transformative power of creativity, the eternal cycle of destruction and redemption, hope and fear, past and future - as we watch the Green Man burn, we will initiate that same sacred power within our bodies, and bring it forth to commune with the greater power flowing around us, below us, above us. We will become ourselves and the world for each other, on this sacred land, on this auspicious night."
"We will become ourselves." The top of Adam's calf itched, and he flexed it to keep pins and needles at bay. From under his eyelashes he could see movement near the table. He squared his shoulders - finally, it was about to start. He could hear her murmuring quietly to Brad, and then Adam felt the brush of her tunic against his thigh.
Kyria stepped in front of Adam, gently stroking the side of his face, her signal for him to tip back his head, open his mouth and flatten his tongue. She placed a small square of blotting paper in the center near the back, then kissed his forehead. "Accept this gift of vision, my child. May it bring you knowledge, and may you use that knowledge wisely." She moved on, and Adam resisted the urge to swallow down or spit out the tab, tasting oddly of steel.
Quickly he felt guiding hands pulling him up, whispering for him to put on his lamp as the group was formed into a single file, left hand atop the shoulder in front. They began moving, faster than Adam thought possible, seeming long endless minutes of silent walking. Brad and Adam had checked out the route to the viewing area earlier that day, so he knew it was only a little ways away, too soon for the acid to take effect.
But already he felt like the world as he knew it had cracked open wide. This was not going to be like 'mushrooms, only longer', as he and Brad had convinced themselves. Soon after they reached the site and removed their blinds, Adam's eyesight began to flash with double-exposure bursts, the desert wind began chanting, and he felt huge in a microscopic body, insignificant in an endless world - the goddess, with her gift, was upon him.
I'll find some way of connection
Adam gasps and flings an arm out in front of him, suddenly on his feet descending a narrow stairwell, atop threadbare carpeting. His heart races when reaches the bottom, near the open door of a gentleman's lounge. Adam sees the outline of a figure, and edges towards the threshold until the full shape of the other man is revealed. He is holding a pose, angling his face away from Adam's sight, towards a gilt-edged mirror while he checks his jewels.
Adam is transfixed, unable to move, waiting for his cue...and the tiled floor is now planking, and he pads carefully down the gangway, keeping a precarious balance. He maintains a steady pace, focused on the ground in front of him, until the air horn sounds. Adam stops, looking for a midshipman to tell him what the signal means...and he is straddling two sturdy bars on the side of a tall platform.
He swings himself down onto the floorboards, to gather with the tribe downstage center, lights dimming as he strolls towards his mark. Adam suddenly notices he is already naked, and freezes in a panic...and the cross-strip blocking marks are now candlelit tables creating a maze he must navigate to reach the piano. It's a new accompanist tonight, and Adam is still three tables away when the music begins. He hesitates, not sure who is early and who is late...and he is running down a dark alleyway of scrims and brickwork as quietly as he can, headed to the backstage left mirror for a hair-check before his final scene.
Making a quick turn, Adam's foot catches at a pulley, and he goes stock still, breathless ...and he is 21 that very moment, dashing up shallow Art Deco steps in mock pursuit of a man just ahead, who is leading Adam to his apartment. The stairs wind up and up, and Adam can't help but laugh in amazement at his good fortune. He leans on the 5th floor railing to catch his breath and...
Adam is ascending steep concrete-block stairs. He can feel the crisp night air against his face, and he smiles, watching the sky slowly reveal itself as he nears the top ledge. He is there already, the ideal Adam seeks - there across the crumbling puddingstone and black tar rooftop, looking up to admire the pearl gleam of Venus, just beyond the skyline. Adam steps out onto the roof, dipping and turning around odd corners to come closer, to take him in his arms, to look deeply into the face still hidden from view. It is sunrise, and still Adam walks on, towards his destiny.
Then I'll lose you, still you won't suspect me
They sat and watched the temple burn, Brad’s back against Adam’s chest. “I wish this place really existed, out there. I’m not ready to leave.” He shifted so that he could see Adam’s face.
Adam smiled and brushed the backs of his fingers along the side of Brad’s jaw. “Yeah. Black Rock’s been pretty intense, this year. It would be great just to, I don’t know, camp out until our brains are ready to go back to the normal world.”
“Dear god then we’d have to live here forever,” Brad drawled, and Adam laughed in agreement. “And I haven’t done normal since the 80’s,” Brad continued, “no, normal is long gone for me.” He laid his arm atop Adam’s, slung across his belly, and they sat in momentary silence. “I just want to make it back next year, at least.”
Adam wrinkled his brow and pursed his lips as he looked back at Brad. “What do you mean - why wouldn’t we be coming back? Of course we will.” He nodded once and gave Brad a gentle squeeze. Brad’s gaze lingered on Adam’s face before he settled back and gave a quiet hug of his own. “Tell me more about the vision you had last night,” he murmured.
Adam propped his chin on Brad’s shoulder. “Mostly I was just, in one spot, almost frozen, for a long time. Then this voice started booming at me, and it came from, like everywhere and nowhere. I didn’t know what it was saying, but the world shifted every time the voice stopped. Finally, somehow I realized that it was me, or my power animal voice or something, but I still couldn’t understand it or figure out how that voice was even coming out of me.”
“Typical. You’re sitting on your butt making noise, meanwhile I’m scrounging everywhere like a crazy person,” Brad teased, steepling his fingers between Adam’s. “So what happened with the voice?”
“It sort of - shifted inside me, and became this, I don’t know, momentum? I never got inside the language - it was always strange - but somehow I figured out how to use it, and then when I did instead of the scenery changing, I shifted, went - different places,” Adam stopped there. “I’m still processing, I guess,” he demurred. Brad held an imperceptible breath, then reached his arms out in a lazy stretch, giving Adam cover.
"What about you and your scrounging," Adam asked, after they had settled back against each other and watched the temple embers smolder. "You know me, a busy bee," Brad opened with a grin. "No, but seriously," he continued quickly, when he heard Adam's intake of breath, "I spent most of the time chasing the horizon, or something like that. But it was never flat, I was always struggling upwards. Kind of Interpret Your Dreams 101, now that I think about it. I should get one of those books, when we get home." Brad kept his voice light and neutral. "It was just - exhausting, actually," he realized aloud.
---
Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face
Brad ran the back of his wrist across his brow, waved his hands in front of his face then let out a long sigh. He walked to the counter, grabbed a bottle of water and chugged half of it down in one long draw, and started fanning himself again. "Ohh, I love this song," he blurted as the music resumed, and turned to join the others - then realized that he was the last man standing. He slowly pivoted on the back of his heels, noticing the couples and trios collapsed in drowsy heaps over each other, buttermilk biscuits, relaxed and content.
The music pounded around him, for the first time sounding louder than it should. The crashing of piano keys scraped against his skin. Brad lifted the bottle to his lips and finished the water, hoping to shake the sensation away, but instead felt a cold wind sluice through the hairs on his legs and forearms. He dropped his arm to his side, and the gust returned, scouring his face and chest as it sought out the very molecules of his flesh to wipe him blank. Untouched, unattached - a desolate loneliness trying to enshroud him in its wake.
Brad shivered, then hurried to the back of the camper, trying to keep the sudden panic at bay. He stood by the bed, already crowded with Adam on his side and Lev on his back, feet dangling over the edge, and wondered if maybe he wouldn't fit in. But then he heard the storm force gale pick up behind him, so Brad pushed on, burrowing under the blanket to wedge himself in between, until the warmth of their bodies pressing against his was strong enough to keep the emptiness away.
Sometimes I wanna call you but I know you won't be there
----
"Baby, burn the coke. Please?"
"Are you crazy? I've been looking forward to this all week - it's just one line, chill out."
"I feel like then we're really breaking the promise we made to the Acid Goddess Saturday night."
"I don't know what you're doing, but yeah - I'm gonna get a nice buzz on for the ride home, uh hm."
"And that's it - you're doing coke and that's your plan, never mind me."
"I'm not having this stupid fucking argument with you again right now! I like a little 'snuff' for a special treat now and then, deal with it. Pretend it's my ice cream binge, okay?"
"You get this crazy sober, and you're surprised that I don't want to have to deal with you crazy and coked out of your brain, too? And fuck you and your cheap shot, that's not even what I meant in the first place, Brad. I wanted you to smoke up with me, that's all."
"Well, why couldn't you just say that, then - ask nicely instead of giving me an order!?"
"I said 'please'!"
"So you're a fascist with manners, congratulations."
"You are such a bitch, sometimes, seriously."
"I know. It's one of the things we used to have in common, Adam - remember? Back before you started channeling my mother? WE were bitchy and funny and the life of every goddamn party that was lucky to have us -"
"And I'm not having this stupid fucking 'Adam's become a boring fart' argument with you again, either! I don't want to end Burning Man like this, Brad."
...
"Fine. I won't take the coke. But pot's just gonna make me drowsy and I don't want to sleep again until we're home."
...
"I think Timmo has some E left. You could take that instead. I just want to kick back and relax, though - I'm tired."
To cease your sad demise - tonight we toast!
---
Brad's eyes flashed open in a last attempt to stave off a memory-riddled nightmare, but the rhythmic susurrations of the camper barreling down the highway proved irresistible. Before he let himself give into sleep, he grabbed at a favorite image, conjured up in the hope it would keep him safe in the dreamworld. Jack Fairy smiled a secret smile at a table for one, as Brad's soft tenor provided the voiceover, "It seemed that in some mysterious way, their lives had been his own..."
Oh I was moved by your screen dream. Celluloid pictures of living
The party is in full swing when they arrive, and Brad plunges into the mayhem. Bodies writhe on the dance floor, champagne fountains overflow, the smell of burnished leather and patchouli hangs thick in the air as the DJ spins a merciless bass and drum pattern around Brad's eyes, already blinded by the spotlight. He can only see darkness beyond the pool of light, and the floor feels cold under his bare feet. He blinks to clear his head, and he is at the bottom of a pigpile, laughing and giddy, as hands, legs, mouths and arms reach out to entwine and entice him further into the orgy.
He sees Adam across the room, talking quietly in a corner, looking for something - him, probably. Brad tries to call him over, but the press of bodies cuts off his breath and crushes him down. Panicked, Brad twists and turns, suddenly alone under a mountain of animal pelts and furs, until he is on his back, staring up the endless ceiling, watching as Adam crosses in front of him without seeing. "It's funny how beautiful people are when they're walking out the door."
Here's looking at you kid, celebrate years
Adam watches as the promised land rolls up and away, then leaps to catch up with his animal pack, festooned with fruit garlands, loping through the Milky Way. He barely reaches them before he is caught up by a whirling calliope held together with burlap string. He looks back as he drifts earthward, but the sky is now empty of its signs. The hurdy-gurdy monkey pats his head, and Adam starts dancing, happy of the movement, but confused by the faces that shift in and out of focus before him. He runs to the safety of a shaded nook away from the lights.
Adam slumps in a corner booth. Dani slides in next to him, shoulders close, and deposits a quick kiss near his ear. “You’ll be okay,” she whispers. “Monte said he’s not going,” Adam groans out. “And?” Dani rubs her hand over his. Adam sits back and meets her gaze. “I’ll probably sing more back here.” He sweeps his arm around. “I miss - all this. Partying with my friends, getting glammed up. The craziness.”
Dani shifts back, facing directly opposite. “People would kill - I would kill - to have that gig. And you’d rather be a club kid?” Adam rubs his head. “It’s gotten too schizoid, you know? I mean…I want to be a pop idol, the biggest thing since sliced Beatles.” Dani holds his gaze, and as the room begins to spin, Adam braces his head against the table to keep focus.
Adam sits back up, alone in an empty bar, staring at crimson stained cigarette butts and weathered maple paneling. He turns at the sound of footsteps, suddenly worn thin. “No more benefit shows.” The little boy tugs at his vest and tie and climbs into the other seat, waiting. The light fades to sepia and golden yearning. Adam looks away, and says in a hush, “We set out to change the world…and ended up just changing ourselves.” The boy leans over the table and pulls at Adam’s sleeve. “What’s wrong with that?”
Adam turns around and the boy is gone. He is on the landing of a ramshackle staircase, looking past dilapidated tapestries and crumbling chandeliers. In the far corner Curt and Brian lay sleeping in temporary bliss as Adam sadly answers, “Nothing. I mean…I just didn't know it was up to me to make it stop."
Your memory stays, it lingers ever. Will fade away never
Adam awoke with a sobbing gulp, his face pebbled in sweat, arm splayed out against the blanket. He wiped his face to break the spell of that last image, and took another deep breath. Brad lay next to him, lightly sleeping half on his belly, an arm draped about his eyes to block the light. Adam untangled their feet as he turned to watch him sleep, wishing he could see Brad unobstructed. Awake, Brad had the prettiest face Adam had ever seen. At rest, he was the most beautiful man Adam had ever loved. It made his heart ache. Adam moved to close the distance between them, hesitated, and instead leaned in to kiss the top of Brad's head before settling onto his back. The movement jostled Brad's arm away from his head, and shook free the moisture beading at the edges of his eyelashes. Adam watched as ‘Sacramento Welcomes You’ scrolled by in the picture window, eyesight blurred with glitter, tracing a ladder. They were more than halfway there, but home was still hours away.
Time may change me, But I can't trace time
THE END
---