To Music
Rhythm.
He bobs his head to the beat, just like everyone else in the room. He can’t help but grin as he takes in everyone. They’re so happy. Tomorrow, it’ll start all over again, and they’ll all be worried about the next round, but for now, they are happy. He catches sight of Kris, who is pouting his lips without meaning to as he moves with the music, doing some awkwardly precious dance move that Adam hasn’t seen since sometime in the 90s. It’s nothing if not endearing.
Sexy face, Adam thinks to himself, remembering the interview from several weeks ago. You’re wrong, Kris. The dancing is painfully Caucasian of you, but the sexy face works.
Power.
They’re taking turns doing impressions, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last. Adam notices that Danny takes a little more heat than anyone else. Danny, who’s gone a magnificent shade of red, notices too and tries to laugh off the attention and claps Adam on the shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. Pick on Gokey,” he grins crookedly. “But I don’t see any of you trying to take on Adam.” Adam smiles at the transparent way that Danny tries to switch attentions, but he doesn’t blame him. And it certainly is effective; everyone sort of gets quiet.
“I think I can do it,” Kris finally speaks up. There is a round of incredulous laughter, and Kris looks at the carpet and shuffles his feet. Adam braces himself, for what will probably be a mockery of his theatrical stage presence. He’s pleasantly surprised. Surprised that Kris picks Ring of Fire. Surprised that he does copy some of his moves, including the hip wriggles and even the infamous shirt lift. But what he’s most surprised by is the sheer force of Kris’ voice, the sort of belt that he rarely incorporates into his own performances.
Adam looks around. Everyone else is surprised, too, surprised to the point of silence. Perhaps Kris notices this, because then he incorporates a classic tool of parody and takes a note higher than necessary and holds it for longer than necessary, throwing in a few melismas for good measure. And then everyone forgets that they’re surprised, and everyone is laughing again. Everyone but Adam.
Feeling.
Later on, he sprawls upside down across his bed, watching languidly as Kris paces out on the balcony. There’s something in the way that he’s pacing, the way that he absently tugs at his left earlobe as he talks on the phone, the way that he giggles. Not laughs, but giggles in that innocent, playful sort of way. The way that he gives his wife Eskimo kisses, even though they’re on the phone, and she can’t possibly see the cute way that his nose wrinkles as he nuzzles thin air.
Adam’s stomach twinges. He chalks it up to the cake they had after the show and rolls over, staring up at the ceiling. Kris finishes up his phone calls and comes back inside, stopping at the foot of Adam’s bed on the way back to his own. Adam looks up at Kris expectantly.
“Good talk?” he asks. Kris grins, and his ears turn pink.
“Yeah,” he quickly agrees, though it’s obvious that he wants to talk about something else. “Look, Adam. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t being mean back there.” It takes Adam half a second to realize he’s talking about the impression and shrugs.
“It was all in good fun,” Kris continues, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I didn’t…”
“It’s fine, Kris,” Adam chuckles, sitting up and facing him. “Honestly, you were starting to worry me, being so nice all the time.” For a moment, Kris seems taken aback, but then he realizes that Adam was only kidding. He looks appropriately sheepish as he absently traces the pattern on Adam’s comforter.
“Good,” he smiles. “Good, I’m glad.” He puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze before traipsing off to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Adam wonders if imagines the electricity in the touch.
Harmony.
Practicing for the group performances has never been Adam’s favorite part. He suspects it’s because of the cheesy dancing. Right now, they’re waiting on the choreographer. Matt suggests that they practice the vocals a few times, maybe play around with the melody before they’re given actual parts.
It starts off relatively simple. Danny and Allison carry the melody while Matt hammers away at the piano. Adam takes it upon himself to try a descant. Kris leans in, listening carefully to what Adam’s doing before jumping in himself. It’s a nice harmony to Adam’s playful countermelody. Matt grins over the top of the piano, throwing in a few vocal runs of his own.
It sounds amazing, but that’s not what Adam is thinking about right now. He’s thinking about how Kris is still leaning into him a little, still listening to his shift in intonation. He can smell his shampoo mingling with his cologne. He doesn’t wear that much, which probably explains why Adam hasn’t noticed the scent more often. Kris suddenly looks up at him. He seems surprised by how close they are standing, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he grins and continues to harmonize, playfully butting Adam’s shoulder with his forehead.
Adam has a newfound appreciation for parallel fourths.
Heavy Competition.
Adam hasn’t been sleeping well lately. The competition gets to him more than he wants anyone to know. He’s used to the stage. He’s used to the crowds. He’s not used to the way he’s become so attached to his fellow competitors.
He frowns at the word. It implies that someone has to lose. Just like Lil and Anoop last week. Just like Matt tonight. They’d had a taste of this new world, only to be sent back to their normal lives. Adam doesn’t want that, not for any of them.
Kris mumbles in his sleep, drawing Adam from his thoughts.
“’m sorry,” he slurs out. “Didn’t want you to go.” Adam sits forward, listening intently. Most of what Kris says is incoherent, but Adam figures out pretty quickly that he’s having a nightmare. Or maybe it’s a flashback. Or maybe it’s both, considering the night they’ve had. Kris’ words trail off, descending into discontent grunts and then into uneasy whimpers.
Adam isn’t quite sure what to do. He could comfort Kris, but he’s not sure how his roommate would react to that if he woke up. But he can’t ignore the whimpers. It’s like the pitiful sounds gut him every time they puncture the silence of the room.
He needs a minute to think. He silently slinks out of the room, easing the door closed behind him. He isn’t expecting someone else to be in the hallway.
“Danny,” he whispers quietly. “You scared the crap out of me, man.” Danny offers an apologetic shrug.
“Sorry. I was making a snack run. No one else is usually up this late,” he points out, removing a cookie from the bag in his hands and offering it to Adam. Adam politely declines with a shake of the head. Danny understands and munches on the cookie himself.
“Everything okay?” he asks, covering his mouth as he speaks around his snack. He sounds sincerely concerned. “You usually sleep like a rock.” Adam has a quick mental debate before jerking his head towards the door.
“Kris is having a bad dream,” he explains flatly. Danny swallows the cookie and nods knowingly.
“And you’re not sure what to do,” he concludes. Adam nods, though he wasn’t sure that he gave his neck the authorization to confirm his inward anxieties. Bad neck, he scolds, trying to lighten his mood. Danny looks between the door and Adam and sighs.
“I don’t think any of us knew what to expect,” he says out of the blue. “I don’t think that we expected to be so close. I mean, we all knew that there’d be a winner and all, but now we’re all emotionally involved.” Danny pauses and helps himself to another bite of cookie.
“I don’t think it was ever supposed to be so heavy,” he comments, wiping the crumbs off his hand before patting Adam on the shoulder. “But it is what it is, and I don’t think anyone wants to wake up alone after having a bad dream.” With that, he walks back to his room. Adam takes in the indirect advice and slowly opens the door.
Kris is curled up now, still whimpering. Adam hesitantly sits on the edge of the mattress and puts a hand on Kris’s forearm. Instinctively, Kris reaches with his other hand, pulling Adam’s arm close to his chest and hugging it. Adam leans awkwardly on the edge of the bed, but he’s determined to wait until Kris calms down. He finds himself wishing that the competition wasn’t so heavy, that the stakes weren’t so high
“It’s going to be okay, Kris,” he whispers. To his surprise, Kris nuzzles against his arm and sighs contentedly in his sleep. And Adam thinks that maybe he’s right. Maybe it’ll be okay.