peregrination, 5/6 (AMERICAN IDOL)
peregrination 5/?
Author: Shady F.
AU; Post-Idoltour.
Rating: PG (language)
Pairing(s): Kradam (preslash), Kraty, Kratt (friendship)
Notes: . In addition to Loreena McKennitt, I was listening to the stream of Kris's new album on AOL. Woo.
"Come on, Kris, you need to eat something. You can't just get yourself sick," Matt insists, shoving a whopping plate of calories towards you.
You don't know why you two picked this diner in particular. It's not in a good area of town--just yesterday there was an announcement of attempted robbery in one of the grocery stores ten feet down the street. The diner itself is a mess.
The waitress's apron is stained a mildewy-brown, as if she dunked the fabric in frying oil and then dipped it in soot. The cook leers at you through the opening in the wall with glazed eyes as he takes the order slip from the waitress. You could swear that there's people staring at you from the bar too menacingly, a couple of them making the diner look slightly frighteningly through the use of their cigarettes.
The food is about as palatable as the setting around you. You poke at a luke-warm cheeseburger in front of you and slowly rotate the chipped plate around, scanning the soggy french fries pilled in a corpse-like heap on the other side. You don't think you can eat them, not even with the ketchup bottle on your left.
"Adam wouldn't want you getting sick," Matt insists, his eyes begging.
You sigh inwardly. You didn't need the name drop for Adam's presence to return to your mind. Even if you weren't in this dump, you still wouldn't really want to eat. Adrenaline's squashed your hunger and exhaustion. Your foot is jiggling impatiently as you leaning on your hands, your eyes darting from one speck to another on the spotty table.
"I just..." Words confound you right now as you reluctantly start away at the french fries. They taste like dust in your mouth, and the ketchup tastes like copper, but you keep eating anyway, nervously. "I don't get it."
"Don't get what?" Matt wonders, taking a sip from his glass of water.
"Nothing makes sense right now. I saw Adam at a club, but he's supposed to have disappeared for a few days. He calls Brad and sees Drake, but then disappears because of some stalker, despite having rented a car." The french fry in your hand falls numbly back onto the plate, your eyes narrowing. "Something is up. And that visit with Brad...it was useless--"
"Keep it down," Matt warns, his eyes darting to a group of people staring at the two of you from the bar. Your face flushes--you never realized how loud you were becoming.
"Sorry." You force a whisper, but it's a struggle. Everything is a struggle. "Matt, do you remember anything about stalkers on tour?"
He leans back casually, adjusting his fedora as his eyes roll into the back of his head in thought. "There was that one stop around Florida, I think..." You perk up, the memory of Florida hitting you as if it just happened. Your skin even stings slightly when you remember that terrible sunburn you got from that day on the beach.
"Adam was in an awful rush that night." You take a bite out of the cheeseburger, putting it back down slowly as you chew methodically. You stay silent for a moment, remembering, recalling. "I know that he was talking to the security guards at the venue an hour before the show started...Said he was using his tired voice as an excuse..."
"And?"
Quickly, you get lost in your own story as you explain it all to Matt.
You tried to run after Adam as he went down the hall, a glare plastered on his chiseled face. You didn't care whether or not this was professional looking. Your career was the last thing on your mind. You were just worried about Adam--nothing new there, you're always worried about him, even when he's safely tucked away sleeping in the privacy of his own home.
Your fingers wrapped around his shoulder. You couldn't stop yourself. You always want to be touching Adam, so you know that he's still here, he still with you. You can't really describe it. It's almost like you share a minute with him when you touch him, like you can figure out what's on his mind.
That day was no exception. You could feel his deltoid muscle tense under his jacket past the layer of spikes on his shoulder--he hadn't even changed out of his stage costume yet. A vein was popping out of his forehead as he simply looked at you, his blue eyes on fire.
"Let go of me, Kris. I need to go give the security around this god damn place a piece of my mind," Adam said cooly, holding your hand for a moment as he pried it off. "Things will be fine after, don't worry."
You want to hear those words again, right now. When will "after" happen? But then again, that's why you're still here, why you're charging like a madman and hunting for Adam this late in Los Angeles.
Wait, not like a madman.
Like Adam practically launching himself into the main break room. You watched from the doorway, cringing as Adam lost it, his voice bouncing off the ceiling and throwing itself down the hall. He made the guard stand up, and he just kept yelling, screaming, pointing an accusing finger at the guard.
"I told you not to have that girl anywhere near the backstage after party. I explicitly ORDERED you guys to block her if you spotted her ANYWHERE near the Idols. I had some of the people from Fox send you a statement saying the same thing, as well as the local police. And WHAT do you do? YOU LET HER IN ANWAY."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lambert, but the photo your company gave us and the real girl looked completely different," the guard replied meekly, shaking his head.
"But you still knew her name. I showed you guys the messages she sent me. I played the voicemail for you. The police said there was enough evidence to consider her a case." Adam's voice trembled from one decibel to the other, emotion making him lose control over his volume, his speech.
"What do you want to do then?" the guard asked, pulling a walkie-talkie from his belt and preparing to send a message.
"I'm leaving right away," Adam said gruffly, looking at the time on his cell phone. "If I'm quick to change out of my costume, I can meet you guys in the back way in five minutes." He left quickly, spotting you on the way out. He tried to pick up his pace, escape from you, but you just sped up too, catching up with him and cutting him off.
"What was that about?" you remember demanding.
Adam sighed, walking past you. "It's nothing."
"I heard you back there. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they heard you back onstage!" you protested, blocking his path again. You could feel yourself tense, planting you feet into position. If you could you would have broken through the linoleum floor and left yourself there. "What's going on, Adam? Who's bothering you? You know I have your back. I'll do anything I can."
"This isn't your problem!" Adam pushed you aside like a rag doll. The impact threw you into the wall, and it might have stunned you for a second, but you found yourself still chasing him, keeping up with his sprint.
"I just want to help."
"I don't want you getting involved."
"A fan? It's not that big of a deal, Adam."
"I have the feeling she's not just any fan, Kris."
You had followed him into the dressing room. Adam shut the door quietly, not even attempting to make you leave. He knew that you were going to be on his case for awhile. Some things never changed from the time you were were room mates on Idol.
"I had your back during the Rolling Stone thing. What makes you think that this is any different?"
Adam slipped off his jacket, leaving it dangling on the back of a chair.
"Because this isn't just about me being picky about who comes in and out of here." Adam paused, looked right at you, his hands gripping your shoulders. "It's about people being safe." He leaned in, kissing your ear softly and promptly pulling away. You didn't really react at that point--he's been known to be affectionate with his friends. "Everything's going to be fine. Just go hang out with everyone else."
"I want to go with you," you insisted, unmoving. "I want to make sure you're safe too."
Adam chuckled, ducking into the bathroom on the other side of the room and changing out of his pants. "No offense, Kris, but nobody would mistake you for one of the security guards around here."
"I'm serious, Adam."
"I'll be fine. Don't worry about it." Adam came back out, fully changed into street clothes as he brushed a hair out of his face.
"Isn't there something I can do?"
There was a pause as he walked over to you. Adam's blue eyes were turning into a murky looking grey as they narrowed, his nails practically clawing your shoulders as he gripped them and shook them. "I don't want you to get dragged into this." Each word grew more sullen than the last, and his expression more bleak. You tried to look away, but he forced your gaze towards his, anxiety contorting his face beyond recognition. "Do you understand me, Kris? You stay the hell out of this."
You could only relent. It's not like you had any other choice at the moment, but that didn't stop you from thinking of the possibilities as you went to sleep on the tour bus that night. For then though, you just gave up.
"Fine."
You started to pull away, but Adam melted around you, burying his face into your shoulder.
"I just don't want you getting hurt," he whispered, sloughing off.
You bitterly chuckle to yourself right now. How ironic it is that you got dragged into this mess anyway. It almost steals the air right out of you as you stare at the half-empty plate in front of you. Somehow a chocolate milkshake appeared in front of you along with another glass of water and you didn't even realize it up until now. It makes you arch a brow as you look at Matt.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" you try to joke. Matt doesn't even crack a smile. When he of all people doesn't respond to humor from you, you realize that maybe your heart is just not into it. He knows all too well that you're failing at distracting yourself.
"Drink it," he orders sternly, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
He starts texting someone as you take a sip, trying to ignore the slightly smoky taste that the shake has. It makes you want to punch him. He shouldn't be texting at a time like this. You're not sure how he can do it without feeling like he is insulting Adam. It just seems like he thinks texting is more important than him, especially after you just told him about that stop where Adam confronted security.
You think Matt's done, but he keeps going, and going, and going...
You can just see yourself lunging across the table at him, grabbing the phone out of his hands and smashing it against the ground, but not until he send a smack flying across his face, making sure it bruises. The smoke in the air would start to clear as shocked patrons would put out their cigarettes, and the expressions of the diner worker's would morph from disdain to fright. You would show all of them that that's not how you treat Adam Lambert.
You start leaning forward across the table, but a new, familiar face joins your table before you can actually take any action. Matt scoots in and does a double take from you to this new person. You know you've seen him somewhere before, you know you've talked to him, but names and faces are all too fragmented. It takes a couple of seconds for you to piece things together as the new person settles in, running a hand through his hair.
"Glad you got my message, Danny," Matt greets, putting his phone away.
"What's going on exactly?" Danny asks. Before you can even say anything, Matt catches him up, bringing your story back to center stage as he summarizes that in too. Danny scratches his stubble in thought, his eyebrows arching up as Matt's words get his attention. "So this incident with Adam...this stalker must have been pretty serious even before today."
You roll your eyes.
No SHIT.
"That's what I'm thinking," Matt agrees, adjusting his fedora for what seems like the thousandth time--he seems to do that a lot when he's nervous. "Just wish we knew more about who the stalker herself was."
"You said Adam's...friend knew something, right?"
You lean back in your half of the booth, discontentedly closing your eyes. You don't even know what the hell Gokey is doing here anyway. He wouldn't really care about Adam's whereabouts. It's not like Gokey made it a secret of how much he disapproved of Adam's sexuality, tossing bible quotes left and right. It makes you sad and sick and infuriated all at the same time when you realize that's why people freak out when they find out you're still a devout Christian--they assume you're just like him, and you hate that. You're NOTHING like Gokey. You actually care about what happens to Adam...
You're praying to God right now that this night turns out okay.
"Kris...Kris?"
Your eyes widen as Gokey grabs your arm. Both of the men on the other side of the table are staring at you. Your eyes slide down to Gokey's hand and you quickly yank away as if it was coated in venom.
"What is it?" Your voice is cross.
"That chick...Joy, I think...do you really think she's the same girl that Adam was trying to block at the concerts?" Gokey inquires.
Your eyes fall down onto the speckled table and your foot taps. Images of a rambunctious blonde girl hugging Adam over the fences post-concert flash through your mind. They start retelling a story to you, a story describing how excited she was, grinning from ear to ear as she handed a small wrapped box to her Idol. Adam was smiling too, but not in the same way. His poker face held up until the two of you got onto the bus, then it shattered as he asked the bus driver if he could have a cigarette.
"I'm damn sure," you finally say, looking back up at the other two.
"Are you sure it's not another stalker?" Gokey asks. He seems to be pretty insistent on not believing Brad's story.
You swallow, resisting the urge to yell at Danny. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay then..."
And he has nothing more to contribute--as if he ever did.
There's an awkward moment of silence as Matt sends another text message, saying that he's letting Katy know what's going on since you refuse to. Danny scans for people along the bar, the waitress placing a glass of water down for him. You can't stop fidgeting. You just want to be out of here and back on a search, and you know Matt knows, because he pays the waitress right away the next time she stops by, not even bothering to ask for the receipt.
"Can we head back to my place?" Matt asks you. "I'm beat, man, and we're clearly not getting anywhere with searching for Adam." There are a couple of people staring at you guys from the bar and more and more people seem to be recognizing you, but you just ignore them. There's no time to acknowledge them.
"Fine."
There's not really any bitterness behind your answer, no sting of sarcasm. There's only exhaustion that you are trying to fight still. It's nearly midnight now and you haven't slept since Saturday evening. Despite this, there's still part of your adrenaline keeping you going. If it weren't for the fact that you didn't have a car to get around Los Angeles at the moment, you would have simply stayed out on the streets while Matt went home. You could always ask Gokey if he could give you a lift, but once again, the fact still remains:
Gokey doesn't give two shits about any of this.
He's only here to look good.
"I'll...go and see if I can find out any suspicious activity," Gokey quickly says, meandering over towards the counter where people are still finishing off the last of their late-night meals. Your lip almost curls in disgust when you see him hitting up a pretty looking blonde woman in the middle, and you hear him make an attempt at lamenting his current situation.
"She probably reminds him of Sophie," you scoff as you and Matt take one last look at Danny and the blonde.
Matt shoots you a glare as he pulls his car keys out of his pocket. He fastens the buttons on his jacket as you two emerge from the diner and walk right back into the rain. The rain was way louder than you remember, each drop seeming to painfully ricochet off your eardrums, but you can still hear Matt's words as he unlocks the car and starts to get in.
"They say that the struggles someone goes through reveal the real side of a person...I'm not sure if I like yours, Kris."
It probably should hurt more than it does, but right now you're just numb.
Adam's left you numb and he doesn't even realize it.
Author: Shady F.
AU; Post-Idoltour.
Rating: PG (language)
Pairing(s): Kradam (preslash), Kraty, Kratt (friendship)
Notes: . In addition to Loreena McKennitt, I was listening to the stream of Kris's new album on AOL. Woo.
"Come on, Kris, you need to eat something. You can't just get yourself sick," Matt insists, shoving a whopping plate of calories towards you.
You don't know why you two picked this diner in particular. It's not in a good area of town--just yesterday there was an announcement of attempted robbery in one of the grocery stores ten feet down the street. The diner itself is a mess.
The waitress's apron is stained a mildewy-brown, as if she dunked the fabric in frying oil and then dipped it in soot. The cook leers at you through the opening in the wall with glazed eyes as he takes the order slip from the waitress. You could swear that there's people staring at you from the bar too menacingly, a couple of them making the diner look slightly frighteningly through the use of their cigarettes.
The food is about as palatable as the setting around you. You poke at a luke-warm cheeseburger in front of you and slowly rotate the chipped plate around, scanning the soggy french fries pilled in a corpse-like heap on the other side. You don't think you can eat them, not even with the ketchup bottle on your left.
"Adam wouldn't want you getting sick," Matt insists, his eyes begging.
You sigh inwardly. You didn't need the name drop for Adam's presence to return to your mind. Even if you weren't in this dump, you still wouldn't really want to eat. Adrenaline's squashed your hunger and exhaustion. Your foot is jiggling impatiently as you leaning on your hands, your eyes darting from one speck to another on the spotty table.
"I just..." Words confound you right now as you reluctantly start away at the french fries. They taste like dust in your mouth, and the ketchup tastes like copper, but you keep eating anyway, nervously. "I don't get it."
"Don't get what?" Matt wonders, taking a sip from his glass of water.
"Nothing makes sense right now. I saw Adam at a club, but he's supposed to have disappeared for a few days. He calls Brad and sees Drake, but then disappears because of some stalker, despite having rented a car." The french fry in your hand falls numbly back onto the plate, your eyes narrowing. "Something is up. And that visit with Brad...it was useless--"
"Keep it down," Matt warns, his eyes darting to a group of people staring at the two of you from the bar. Your face flushes--you never realized how loud you were becoming.
"Sorry." You force a whisper, but it's a struggle. Everything is a struggle. "Matt, do you remember anything about stalkers on tour?"
He leans back casually, adjusting his fedora as his eyes roll into the back of his head in thought. "There was that one stop around Florida, I think..." You perk up, the memory of Florida hitting you as if it just happened. Your skin even stings slightly when you remember that terrible sunburn you got from that day on the beach.
"Adam was in an awful rush that night." You take a bite out of the cheeseburger, putting it back down slowly as you chew methodically. You stay silent for a moment, remembering, recalling. "I know that he was talking to the security guards at the venue an hour before the show started...Said he was using his tired voice as an excuse..."
"And?"
Quickly, you get lost in your own story as you explain it all to Matt.
You tried to run after Adam as he went down the hall, a glare plastered on his chiseled face. You didn't care whether or not this was professional looking. Your career was the last thing on your mind. You were just worried about Adam--nothing new there, you're always worried about him, even when he's safely tucked away sleeping in the privacy of his own home.
Your fingers wrapped around his shoulder. You couldn't stop yourself. You always want to be touching Adam, so you know that he's still here, he still with you. You can't really describe it. It's almost like you share a minute with him when you touch him, like you can figure out what's on his mind.
That day was no exception. You could feel his deltoid muscle tense under his jacket past the layer of spikes on his shoulder--he hadn't even changed out of his stage costume yet. A vein was popping out of his forehead as he simply looked at you, his blue eyes on fire.
"Let go of me, Kris. I need to go give the security around this god damn place a piece of my mind," Adam said cooly, holding your hand for a moment as he pried it off. "Things will be fine after, don't worry."
You want to hear those words again, right now. When will "after" happen? But then again, that's why you're still here, why you're charging like a madman and hunting for Adam this late in Los Angeles.
Wait, not like a madman.
Like Adam practically launching himself into the main break room. You watched from the doorway, cringing as Adam lost it, his voice bouncing off the ceiling and throwing itself down the hall. He made the guard stand up, and he just kept yelling, screaming, pointing an accusing finger at the guard.
"I told you not to have that girl anywhere near the backstage after party. I explicitly ORDERED you guys to block her if you spotted her ANYWHERE near the Idols. I had some of the people from Fox send you a statement saying the same thing, as well as the local police. And WHAT do you do? YOU LET HER IN ANWAY."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lambert, but the photo your company gave us and the real girl looked completely different," the guard replied meekly, shaking his head.
"But you still knew her name. I showed you guys the messages she sent me. I played the voicemail for you. The police said there was enough evidence to consider her a case." Adam's voice trembled from one decibel to the other, emotion making him lose control over his volume, his speech.
"What do you want to do then?" the guard asked, pulling a walkie-talkie from his belt and preparing to send a message.
"I'm leaving right away," Adam said gruffly, looking at the time on his cell phone. "If I'm quick to change out of my costume, I can meet you guys in the back way in five minutes." He left quickly, spotting you on the way out. He tried to pick up his pace, escape from you, but you just sped up too, catching up with him and cutting him off.
"What was that about?" you remember demanding.
Adam sighed, walking past you. "It's nothing."
"I heard you back there. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they heard you back onstage!" you protested, blocking his path again. You could feel yourself tense, planting you feet into position. If you could you would have broken through the linoleum floor and left yourself there. "What's going on, Adam? Who's bothering you? You know I have your back. I'll do anything I can."
"This isn't your problem!" Adam pushed you aside like a rag doll. The impact threw you into the wall, and it might have stunned you for a second, but you found yourself still chasing him, keeping up with his sprint.
"I just want to help."
"I don't want you getting involved."
"A fan? It's not that big of a deal, Adam."
"I have the feeling she's not just any fan, Kris."
You had followed him into the dressing room. Adam shut the door quietly, not even attempting to make you leave. He knew that you were going to be on his case for awhile. Some things never changed from the time you were were room mates on Idol.
"I had your back during the Rolling Stone thing. What makes you think that this is any different?"
Adam slipped off his jacket, leaving it dangling on the back of a chair.
"Because this isn't just about me being picky about who comes in and out of here." Adam paused, looked right at you, his hands gripping your shoulders. "It's about people being safe." He leaned in, kissing your ear softly and promptly pulling away. You didn't really react at that point--he's been known to be affectionate with his friends. "Everything's going to be fine. Just go hang out with everyone else."
"I want to go with you," you insisted, unmoving. "I want to make sure you're safe too."
Adam chuckled, ducking into the bathroom on the other side of the room and changing out of his pants. "No offense, Kris, but nobody would mistake you for one of the security guards around here."
"I'm serious, Adam."
"I'll be fine. Don't worry about it." Adam came back out, fully changed into street clothes as he brushed a hair out of his face.
"Isn't there something I can do?"
There was a pause as he walked over to you. Adam's blue eyes were turning into a murky looking grey as they narrowed, his nails practically clawing your shoulders as he gripped them and shook them. "I don't want you to get dragged into this." Each word grew more sullen than the last, and his expression more bleak. You tried to look away, but he forced your gaze towards his, anxiety contorting his face beyond recognition. "Do you understand me, Kris? You stay the hell out of this."
You could only relent. It's not like you had any other choice at the moment, but that didn't stop you from thinking of the possibilities as you went to sleep on the tour bus that night. For then though, you just gave up.
"Fine."
You started to pull away, but Adam melted around you, burying his face into your shoulder.
"I just don't want you getting hurt," he whispered, sloughing off.
You bitterly chuckle to yourself right now. How ironic it is that you got dragged into this mess anyway. It almost steals the air right out of you as you stare at the half-empty plate in front of you. Somehow a chocolate milkshake appeared in front of you along with another glass of water and you didn't even realize it up until now. It makes you arch a brow as you look at Matt.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" you try to joke. Matt doesn't even crack a smile. When he of all people doesn't respond to humor from you, you realize that maybe your heart is just not into it. He knows all too well that you're failing at distracting yourself.
"Drink it," he orders sternly, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
He starts texting someone as you take a sip, trying to ignore the slightly smoky taste that the shake has. It makes you want to punch him. He shouldn't be texting at a time like this. You're not sure how he can do it without feeling like he is insulting Adam. It just seems like he thinks texting is more important than him, especially after you just told him about that stop where Adam confronted security.
You think Matt's done, but he keeps going, and going, and going...
You can just see yourself lunging across the table at him, grabbing the phone out of his hands and smashing it against the ground, but not until he send a smack flying across his face, making sure it bruises. The smoke in the air would start to clear as shocked patrons would put out their cigarettes, and the expressions of the diner worker's would morph from disdain to fright. You would show all of them that that's not how you treat Adam Lambert.
You start leaning forward across the table, but a new, familiar face joins your table before you can actually take any action. Matt scoots in and does a double take from you to this new person. You know you've seen him somewhere before, you know you've talked to him, but names and faces are all too fragmented. It takes a couple of seconds for you to piece things together as the new person settles in, running a hand through his hair.
"Glad you got my message, Danny," Matt greets, putting his phone away.
"What's going on exactly?" Danny asks. Before you can even say anything, Matt catches him up, bringing your story back to center stage as he summarizes that in too. Danny scratches his stubble in thought, his eyebrows arching up as Matt's words get his attention. "So this incident with Adam...this stalker must have been pretty serious even before today."
You roll your eyes.
No SHIT.
"That's what I'm thinking," Matt agrees, adjusting his fedora for what seems like the thousandth time--he seems to do that a lot when he's nervous. "Just wish we knew more about who the stalker herself was."
"You said Adam's...friend knew something, right?"
You lean back in your half of the booth, discontentedly closing your eyes. You don't even know what the hell Gokey is doing here anyway. He wouldn't really care about Adam's whereabouts. It's not like Gokey made it a secret of how much he disapproved of Adam's sexuality, tossing bible quotes left and right. It makes you sad and sick and infuriated all at the same time when you realize that's why people freak out when they find out you're still a devout Christian--they assume you're just like him, and you hate that. You're NOTHING like Gokey. You actually care about what happens to Adam...
You're praying to God right now that this night turns out okay.
"Kris...Kris?"
Your eyes widen as Gokey grabs your arm. Both of the men on the other side of the table are staring at you. Your eyes slide down to Gokey's hand and you quickly yank away as if it was coated in venom.
"What is it?" Your voice is cross.
"That chick...Joy, I think...do you really think she's the same girl that Adam was trying to block at the concerts?" Gokey inquires.
Your eyes fall down onto the speckled table and your foot taps. Images of a rambunctious blonde girl hugging Adam over the fences post-concert flash through your mind. They start retelling a story to you, a story describing how excited she was, grinning from ear to ear as she handed a small wrapped box to her Idol. Adam was smiling too, but not in the same way. His poker face held up until the two of you got onto the bus, then it shattered as he asked the bus driver if he could have a cigarette.
"I'm damn sure," you finally say, looking back up at the other two.
"Are you sure it's not another stalker?" Gokey asks. He seems to be pretty insistent on not believing Brad's story.
You swallow, resisting the urge to yell at Danny. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay then..."
And he has nothing more to contribute--as if he ever did.
There's an awkward moment of silence as Matt sends another text message, saying that he's letting Katy know what's going on since you refuse to. Danny scans for people along the bar, the waitress placing a glass of water down for him. You can't stop fidgeting. You just want to be out of here and back on a search, and you know Matt knows, because he pays the waitress right away the next time she stops by, not even bothering to ask for the receipt.
"Can we head back to my place?" Matt asks you. "I'm beat, man, and we're clearly not getting anywhere with searching for Adam." There are a couple of people staring at you guys from the bar and more and more people seem to be recognizing you, but you just ignore them. There's no time to acknowledge them.
"Fine."
There's not really any bitterness behind your answer, no sting of sarcasm. There's only exhaustion that you are trying to fight still. It's nearly midnight now and you haven't slept since Saturday evening. Despite this, there's still part of your adrenaline keeping you going. If it weren't for the fact that you didn't have a car to get around Los Angeles at the moment, you would have simply stayed out on the streets while Matt went home. You could always ask Gokey if he could give you a lift, but once again, the fact still remains:
Gokey doesn't give two shits about any of this.
He's only here to look good.
"I'll...go and see if I can find out any suspicious activity," Gokey quickly says, meandering over towards the counter where people are still finishing off the last of their late-night meals. Your lip almost curls in disgust when you see him hitting up a pretty looking blonde woman in the middle, and you hear him make an attempt at lamenting his current situation.
"She probably reminds him of Sophie," you scoff as you and Matt take one last look at Danny and the blonde.
Matt shoots you a glare as he pulls his car keys out of his pocket. He fastens the buttons on his jacket as you two emerge from the diner and walk right back into the rain. The rain was way louder than you remember, each drop seeming to painfully ricochet off your eardrums, but you can still hear Matt's words as he unlocks the car and starts to get in.
"They say that the struggles someone goes through reveal the real side of a person...I'm not sure if I like yours, Kris."
It probably should hurt more than it does, but right now you're just numb.
Adam's left you numb and he doesn't even realize it.