A Rose by Any Other Name (5/?)
Title: A Rose by Any Other Name
Chapter: 5/?
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: R maybe? This one is G.
Summary: High school AU. What happens when Kris is kidnapped, and the police have given up the search after 2 years? And how do Adam Lambert and American Idol play into all of it?
Beta: My BFF Alex, who unforunately is not on LJ.
Disclamer: Unfortunately, I do not own Kris, Adam, or anyone else in this story. Nor do I own any of the songs, or anything recognizable from American Idol or Ford. I barely own the plotline, as its based on the show. Adam and Kris belong completely to themselves, and each other.
"It’s really hot out here,” Lindsay said, wiping her brow. I made a noncommittal grunt from my seat next to her on the wooden swing on the front porch. “I’ll get us some lemonade,” she added, standing up abruptly. She swept into the house without a backwards glance.
I glanced out at the dirt road, my eyes following it until the trees on either side blocked the winding path from my view. It would be so simple to run, I know it would. So simple to just start running and never stop. But how much would that accomplish? Over the past two years, the only information I’d gleaned about my location was that I now lived in Conway, Arkansas, which didn’t tell me too much. I supposed it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out which way was west, but my problem sat inside the house.
Frank already knew which was west. He already knew where my house was. Where my family was. That thought alone was enough to keep me glued to the swing, an almost-natural smile reaching my lips when Lindsay came out and pressed a cold glass of lemonade into my hands. Funny, I couldn’t remember the last time I truly smiled.
Other than that, I had been careful to observe and remember everything I could. Frank was brutal; the beatings never ceased. However, I’d always learned that an object was only as strong as its weakest point. And I knew Frank’s weakness: Lindsay. No matter how much he hurt me, or was cruel to me, he’d found me for her, and he loved her. More than I thought a man like him could love anyone, honestly. But he did. I hadn’t quite figured out a way to use that to my advantage, but I would. I had to.
“Can we go to the new bookstore downtown?” I asked, glancing sideways at Lindsay, “A prequel to the Left Behind series was just released.”
“Of course, sweetie,” Lindsay said with a smile, leaning over to press a kiss against my temple. I acted annoyed and swatted her away, masking the disgust and pain that came with such a ‘mom’ gesture from someone who didn’t fit the role. Not in my life, anyway. She laughed and shook her head, “Go get dressed and we’ll go.”
“Ok,” I said, standing up and walking back inside. I rinsed out my glass and put it in the dishwasher before heading back to my room. It was almost scary how comfortable I’d become in this place. Under the protection of daylight, anyways. The morning bruises left from the nightly beatings had been cruel wake-up calls during those moments when I almost wanted to call this place home.
Pulling on a pair of basketball shorts and a Maranatha Invitational Tournament t-shirt from three years ago, I picked up my guitar, as I had come to think of it, and slid it back under the bed. I’d been teaching myself to play since I found the acoustic two years ago. Always quietly, while Frank was at work, and Lindsay was outside working in her garden. It gave me at least three hours to play every day, usually more, unless it was raining.
Tucking the bed skirt down to hide the neck of the guitar, I went to the bathroom and glanced at my reflection. Grabbing my contacts from under the cabinet, I put them in. Never would I get used to the colored contacts that turned my eyes from hazel to dark brown. I ran my hands through my hair, still hating the way I didn’t need a comb to brush through it anymore. The shaggy dark brown hair I had before was now cut to about an inch long and dyed a dark blonde. Reaching for my razor by the sink, I remembered, with surprising clarity, the day Lindsay had gone to the store, and Frank had put me through the motions of my new appearance. My least favorite part occurred when he made me shave off the stubble on my chin that had taken me almost a year and a half to grow. I nearly cried back then, but now I had to shave daily, so it didn’t bother me anymore.
Turning one way, then the other, I had to try hard not to grimace. My face looked so much older, though it had only been two years. The baby fat that used to cover my cheeks had long since faded away, while the dark circles under my eyes remained; permanent tattoos of my torturous nights.
“James!” Lindsay’s voice called, and I turned away from the mirror.
“Coming, mom,” I called back, the word falling off of my tongue now by habit, unfortunately. Going back into my room quickly, I grabbed my wallet from the dresser, complete with a driver’s license bearing the name ‘James White’ in it. Frank had given it to me on James’ sixteenth birthday, which was a couple months before mine, without me even taking a driving test. I didn’t ask how he got it, and I never really wanted to find out.
We went to the bookstore, and I ignored the whispers. I always did. Lindsay left me, as always, to sit in the café while I searched for books. The whispers had been few and far between over the years, but every now and then, I still heard someone say, “That one? James? Oh Lindsay, the poor dear has finally lost her mind.”
But there were still the constant rumors and gossip that never failed to escape my notice. “Poor boy, I hear he’s got no family.” “The Whites are such a nice family for taking him in, even if Lindsay‘s off her rocker.” “His parents died in that huge fire a few years ago, you know.” “No! I heard they got in a plane crash when they went on vacation. Apparently the boy was staying with the Whites while they were gone, and they never came back.” “Poor Lindsay dear has replaced James with the boy.” “Doesn’t look a thing like him if you ask me.” “I think he’s got the same eyes.” “Does it matter? The boy’s at least got a family now. I say we leave it well enough alone.”
“Hey James,” a voice called from behind me, snapping me back to reality.
I turned and smiled at Jacob. I could still remember the first time I’d run into him at the mall.
“Who’re you?” the boy asked, crossing his arms. I could see him eyeing Lindsay, who was standing several yards away. His emerald eyes flickered back to me, one barely visible under the shaggy mop of dark brown hair.
“James,” I said automatically.
“Really?” he asked disbelievingly. I nodded enthusiastically. He had to believe me. Frank would be so angry if someone figured out I wasn’t James. “Ok then, who am I?”
“Um, sorry?” I said, looking at him curiously.
“Come on, James,” he sneered the name, “You’ve known me since we were kids. Thought you were my best friend.” I chewed my lip nervously, but the boy just laughed after a moment, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the secret,” he said, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thanks,” I said with a small smile. It had always surprised me how no one in the town had questioned that I was James, at least not to my face. I knew eventually someone would confront me, and I was at least glad it was someone kind enough to care, even if they didn’t know the situation. One thing Conway had that LA didn’t.
“I’m Jacob,” he said, holding out a hand. I shook it, offering him another smile. “So, do you know what really happened to James?” I shook my head, waiting for him to continue, but he just sighed. “Damn, I was hoping you knew. It’s been a mystery around here for weeks. Then you showed up.”
“Is he dead?” I asked quietly, but Jacob just shrugged.
“Don’t know. No one really does. Just up and left one day, and no one’s heard from him since.” He looked at me, apparently sizing me up, then asked, “How did you get roped into this, anyway?”
I bit my lip, “Um, I-uh, I can’t, really,” I stuttered, but thankfully he just held up a hand, cutting me off.
“Hey, it’s cool,” he said, “Don’t worry about it.” I gave him a weak smile again, and we fell into an easy conversation until Lindsay interrupted us, shoving a rather large pile of clothes at me and telling me to go try them on.
((Author's Note: Flashback ends here, cause this thing is being stupid and won't un-italics the rest of it))
“Hey Jacob,” I said with a smile, turning back to the book shelf I was looking at. I pulled “The Rapture” from the back of one of the stacks and opened it to read the inside cover.
“A bunch of us are meeting at CiCi’s after the football game tonight,” Jacob said, walking over. He leaned against the bookshelf in front of me, “You wanna come?”
“I don’t know if I can,” I said, glancing up at him.
He nodded knowingly. Even if I couldn’t tell him everything that was going on, he still seemed to understand, to some extent. Or at least he understood that I was kept on an extremely tight leash. “Ok, well, maybe next time?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah, maybe,” I said with a shrug, though we both knew that next time wouldn’t be any better than this time.
“Cool, I’ll catch you later then,” Jacob said, and I saw his eyes staring at something over my shoulder. I followed his gaze and smiled slightly at his blonde girlfriend waiting for him at the checkout line.
“Get outta here,” I said with a laugh, shoving him lightly in her direction. He laughed and hit me playfully on the shoulder, but left with the girl anyways. After about half an hour, during which I picked several more books, I went to find Lindsay. The one thing I liked about being here was that we didn’t have the money flow problems I had back in LA. Granted, I would give every bit of it up in a heartbeat if it meant I could go back home, but at least here I could get as many books as I wanted. I could let myself get lost in the indefinite pages, hiding shamelessly from reality just a little bit longer to escape into a world where my pain and problems failed to exist.
Whispers reached my ears as I stood in the checkout line. But it wasn’t the usual kind of whispers. I strained my ears, trying to pick up what the group of girls was giggling over. “Yeah, the auditions are Louisville!” “Oh my gosh, that’s so far away!” “It’s not too far. Me and my sister are taking a road trip, and we’re both going to audition.”
“Um, excuse me,” I interrupted them. They all paused and turned to stare at me. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I asked, “Um, sorry, but uh, what auditions are you talking about?”
“For American Idol, of course,” one of the girls said, staring at me as though I’d grown a second head. Before I could ask, she continued, “The auditions are Friday and Saturday.”
“Thanks,” I said hurriedly. They went back to their conversation, and I didn’t try to listen in this time. American Idol. Huh, that was interesting. I glanced at Lindsay who was walking towards me, apparently having seen me from her usual chair by the window in the café. Convincing her to let me audition wouldn’t be too challenging, I was pretty sure. After that, it wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out a way to use the show to my advantage to get back to LA. Hell, if I just got to Hollywood Week I’d be as good as home. Maybe I could use Frank’s weakness against him after all.