A Rose by Any Other Name (6/?)
Title: A Rose by Any Other Name
Chapter: 6/?
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.
I couldn’t believe it. I really couldn’t! The judges apparently loved me, even if Simon gave me an earful about my modesty. In any case, before I knew it, I was standing in a large room full of people in Hollywood! Hollywood, California! I was finally home again, or, well, as close to home as I could hope to get.
Admittedly, though, I was slightly frustrated with myself. My plan included getting to Hollywood, finally back in California, but once I was there…I was stuck. Honestly, I hadn’t thought I would get this far, and with Frank grumbling beside me about ‘strange-looking kids,’ I didn’t have a clue what to do next. Convincing Lindsay had been as easy as I’d expected. And since Frank really hadn’t thought I would even get past the judges, he wasn’t as adamant against the idea as I’d expected. I’d even brought the guitar that I’d hidden from the two with me. Frank had been surprised, and Lindsay had been really emotional. (Apparently James must’ve played it a lot or something.)
Voices reached my ears from every side of the room, some laughing, some rambling nervously, but all still anxious. My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face, though it wouldn’t quite help me. If anything, the difficulty would increase. Possessing enough sense to think of a stupid plan might help, but on the off chance that someone recognized me, Frank would make my life a living hell.
Muttering something about getting a drink from a table that was set up on the other side of the room, I slipped away from Frank for a moment to let myself enjoy the atmosphere of the place. Cliques had formed within moments, though people didn’t seem to have any aversion to jumping from one group to the next. Some people were like me, dressed in clothes that looked better suited for playing basketball at some weathered court down the block than singing on national television. Others looked like they just fit here. Still, others looked like the kinds of people Kris would fit in with. Bright smiles and animated hand motions that just belonged on a stage. And with them were the kinds of people that seemed like they would be the shy ones behind the scenes, though with just as much of a love for the theatre. The realization stuck a hard blow inside me, memories of my old friends and school rushing back for a brief moment.
"Excuse me," a black-haired man bumped into me while I was still enthralled with watching the different people and remembering happier times. He brushed past me in a hurry, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t even glanced at me. I watched him rush by and wrap his arms around a short, fiery-redhead, who looked like she had probably bumped into someone on her way to catch up with him as well.
"Can I have everyone’s attention?" A voice called out from the far side of the room. Things slowly started quieting down until we could hear Ryan’s voice clearly. "Now, we’re going to divide you into groups, and you’ll each have a very short amount of time to impress the judges. So choose your song wisely, decide on the few lines you want to sing, and we’ll tell you when you’re to go up to the stage."
He gave some more instructions about where to go after our groups were done, and then left to talk to some sound guys or something. Whispers in the room turned tense and hurried, everyone discussing songs and artists like their lives depended it on it. It struck me as strange when I realized that our lives sort of did depend on it, especially mine, if I managed this right and actually managed to form a damn plan!
Jumping slightly when a hand landed on my shoulder, I jerked around to see Frank behind me. I hated having him there, but Lindsay had gone on and on about not being able to leave the gardens unattended or something. If I had thought this through more, I might’ve waited two years until I was eighteen and didn’t have to have someone here with me over eighteen. Oh well. The sooner the better, in every possible way
Just my luck, I was in one of the first groups. But I made it through okay and went to sit with everyone else in the audience. Thankfully, this allowed me to escape Frank for a while. He was sitting in one of the back rows with the parents of the other unfortunate, underage contestants. I honestly didn’t pay too much attention to the other people. They all had pretty good voices; they had to in order to get here, right? Then suddenly, I heard the very last name that I’d ever expected to hear: "Adam Lambert."
Simon or someone had called his name form the judges’ panel. In the split second between the words leaving his mouth and Adam stepping forward, an entire argument raged in my head. It can’t be the same Adam Lambert. There’s no way! Adam is a totally common name! Lambert...isn’t, but still, Adam is, so that solves it! Besides, I know of other people with the last name Lambert! There’s uh…Oh! That country singer, what’s her name? Isn’t it Melanie Lambert? Melissa? No! It’s Miranda! Yeah, Miranda Lambert! So that has to be it! Yep, it’s Miranda Lambert’s brother…Does she have a brother? Well, she must. Cause none of the guys in this group even look like Adam. Yep. Mystery solved!
With my anxious eyes glued to the stage, the black-haired man that had bumped into me earlier took a step forward, making my beliefs concrete. That was definitely not the Adam Lambert I knew! The Adam Lambert I knew had strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and sounded like-
All rational thought in my mind cut off when the man opened his mouth and started to sing. No one else in the world had that voice. It was the Adam Lambert from high school. Of all the people to possibly run into while I was here, why him? And then, of course he had to sit next to me when his group came down from the stage. I decided then and there that life in general officially hated me. There was no way around it. Here, in Hollywood, with Adam sitting beside me, and not even able to enjoy it. After all, I shouldn’t even know him; my name was James White.
"You were really good up there," I started slightly at Adam’s voice in my ear, and he gave me a small smile, bright eyes looking like he was trying to figure me out.
"Um, thanks, you too," I muttered quickly, not holding his gaze for more than a second. I was completely convinced that if he looked me in the eyes for more than two seconds, he would realize that I wasn’t James White…Never mind that I still had my colored contacts in.
"Thanks," he said slowly, and I could still see him watching me out of the corner of my eye, like I was a complex piece of music he just had to figure out. "You look kinda familiar. Have we met?"
I forced a short laugh, "I don’t think so," I said, and before I could stop myself, added, "I think I would’ve remembered someone like you." I clamped my mouth shut, feeling the heat on my face.
Thankfully, though, it was dark, and Adam just laughed a bit and didn’t press the subject. I practically ran out into the lobby when they told us to leave the theatre. Attempting to catch my breath, I leaned against a wall and watched the other contestants filing out of the double doors. I caught Adam’s eye for a brief moment as he walked out, but thankfully he was distracted by the fiery redhead, who chose that moment to launch herself at him in a tight hug. For a quick moment, I let myself take in his new appearance.
His smile was still the same, and his eyes still had that mixture of mystery and childlike wonder in their blue depths. But he was wearing make-up. Which, I wasn’t new to that; he wore make-up when he was in the theatre so the lights didn’t wash him out. But now he wore it casually. Yeah. Everyone here was wearing at least some kind of make-up, but not much. We all wore just enough of a foundation or something so that we didn’t wash out on camera, but Adam was wearing eyeliner? That was definitely new. And his hair was way different, though I was slightly surprised at how much I thought it suited him. The darker color made his light eyes pop with the contrast. And, in a moment of honesty that I would never admit to out loud, it was impossible to not notice the way the new look turned him from the cute theatre guy into the really hot rock star.
A wave of emotion crashed over me, leaving me momentarily stunned, as I realized that I had wanted to see Adam (or anyone from home, really) so much that it ached deep inside me, dormant until now. And that I had promised myself that if I ever got to see Adam again, I would stop this stupid childish game and just talk to him. But I made that promise on the off chance that I wouldn’t be James White anymore. If he doesn’t know who I am, it doesn’t count. Right? Right.
"Guess we’re going to be here a while," a grumbling voice snapped me from my own thoughts, and I turned to see Frank beside me, obviously angry with the whole thing. He hadn’t even thought I’d make it to Hollywood, and now all he wanted was for them to send me home. But I was not about to go down without a fight. Or, well, a note or whatever.
"Yeah, we are," I said, faking the best smile I could, which wasn’t as hard as it usually was for some odd reason.
Chapter: 6/?
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.
I couldn’t believe it. I really couldn’t! The judges apparently loved me, even if Simon gave me an earful about my modesty. In any case, before I knew it, I was standing in a large room full of people in Hollywood! Hollywood, California! I was finally home again, or, well, as close to home as I could hope to get.
Admittedly, though, I was slightly frustrated with myself. My plan included getting to Hollywood, finally back in California, but once I was there…I was stuck. Honestly, I hadn’t thought I would get this far, and with Frank grumbling beside me about ‘strange-looking kids,’ I didn’t have a clue what to do next. Convincing Lindsay had been as easy as I’d expected. And since Frank really hadn’t thought I would even get past the judges, he wasn’t as adamant against the idea as I’d expected. I’d even brought the guitar that I’d hidden from the two with me. Frank had been surprised, and Lindsay had been really emotional. (Apparently James must’ve played it a lot or something.)
Voices reached my ears from every side of the room, some laughing, some rambling nervously, but all still anxious. My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face, though it wouldn’t quite help me. If anything, the difficulty would increase. Possessing enough sense to think of a stupid plan might help, but on the off chance that someone recognized me, Frank would make my life a living hell.
Muttering something about getting a drink from a table that was set up on the other side of the room, I slipped away from Frank for a moment to let myself enjoy the atmosphere of the place. Cliques had formed within moments, though people didn’t seem to have any aversion to jumping from one group to the next. Some people were like me, dressed in clothes that looked better suited for playing basketball at some weathered court down the block than singing on national television. Others looked like they just fit here. Still, others looked like the kinds of people Kris would fit in with. Bright smiles and animated hand motions that just belonged on a stage. And with them were the kinds of people that seemed like they would be the shy ones behind the scenes, though with just as much of a love for the theatre. The realization stuck a hard blow inside me, memories of my old friends and school rushing back for a brief moment.
"Excuse me," a black-haired man bumped into me while I was still enthralled with watching the different people and remembering happier times. He brushed past me in a hurry, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t even glanced at me. I watched him rush by and wrap his arms around a short, fiery-redhead, who looked like she had probably bumped into someone on her way to catch up with him as well.
"Can I have everyone’s attention?" A voice called out from the far side of the room. Things slowly started quieting down until we could hear Ryan’s voice clearly. "Now, we’re going to divide you into groups, and you’ll each have a very short amount of time to impress the judges. So choose your song wisely, decide on the few lines you want to sing, and we’ll tell you when you’re to go up to the stage."
He gave some more instructions about where to go after our groups were done, and then left to talk to some sound guys or something. Whispers in the room turned tense and hurried, everyone discussing songs and artists like their lives depended it on it. It struck me as strange when I realized that our lives sort of did depend on it, especially mine, if I managed this right and actually managed to form a damn plan!
Jumping slightly when a hand landed on my shoulder, I jerked around to see Frank behind me. I hated having him there, but Lindsay had gone on and on about not being able to leave the gardens unattended or something. If I had thought this through more, I might’ve waited two years until I was eighteen and didn’t have to have someone here with me over eighteen. Oh well. The sooner the better, in every possible way
Just my luck, I was in one of the first groups. But I made it through okay and went to sit with everyone else in the audience. Thankfully, this allowed me to escape Frank for a while. He was sitting in one of the back rows with the parents of the other unfortunate, underage contestants. I honestly didn’t pay too much attention to the other people. They all had pretty good voices; they had to in order to get here, right? Then suddenly, I heard the very last name that I’d ever expected to hear: "Adam Lambert."
Simon or someone had called his name form the judges’ panel. In the split second between the words leaving his mouth and Adam stepping forward, an entire argument raged in my head. It can’t be the same Adam Lambert. There’s no way! Adam is a totally common name! Lambert...isn’t, but still, Adam is, so that solves it! Besides, I know of other people with the last name Lambert! There’s uh…Oh! That country singer, what’s her name? Isn’t it Melanie Lambert? Melissa? No! It’s Miranda! Yeah, Miranda Lambert! So that has to be it! Yep, it’s Miranda Lambert’s brother…Does she have a brother? Well, she must. Cause none of the guys in this group even look like Adam. Yep. Mystery solved!
With my anxious eyes glued to the stage, the black-haired man that had bumped into me earlier took a step forward, making my beliefs concrete. That was definitely not the Adam Lambert I knew! The Adam Lambert I knew had strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and sounded like-
All rational thought in my mind cut off when the man opened his mouth and started to sing. No one else in the world had that voice. It was the Adam Lambert from high school. Of all the people to possibly run into while I was here, why him? And then, of course he had to sit next to me when his group came down from the stage. I decided then and there that life in general officially hated me. There was no way around it. Here, in Hollywood, with Adam sitting beside me, and not even able to enjoy it. After all, I shouldn’t even know him; my name was James White.
"You were really good up there," I started slightly at Adam’s voice in my ear, and he gave me a small smile, bright eyes looking like he was trying to figure me out.
"Um, thanks, you too," I muttered quickly, not holding his gaze for more than a second. I was completely convinced that if he looked me in the eyes for more than two seconds, he would realize that I wasn’t James White…Never mind that I still had my colored contacts in.
"Thanks," he said slowly, and I could still see him watching me out of the corner of my eye, like I was a complex piece of music he just had to figure out. "You look kinda familiar. Have we met?"
I forced a short laugh, "I don’t think so," I said, and before I could stop myself, added, "I think I would’ve remembered someone like you." I clamped my mouth shut, feeling the heat on my face.
Thankfully, though, it was dark, and Adam just laughed a bit and didn’t press the subject. I practically ran out into the lobby when they told us to leave the theatre. Attempting to catch my breath, I leaned against a wall and watched the other contestants filing out of the double doors. I caught Adam’s eye for a brief moment as he walked out, but thankfully he was distracted by the fiery redhead, who chose that moment to launch herself at him in a tight hug. For a quick moment, I let myself take in his new appearance.
His smile was still the same, and his eyes still had that mixture of mystery and childlike wonder in their blue depths. But he was wearing make-up. Which, I wasn’t new to that; he wore make-up when he was in the theatre so the lights didn’t wash him out. But now he wore it casually. Yeah. Everyone here was wearing at least some kind of make-up, but not much. We all wore just enough of a foundation or something so that we didn’t wash out on camera, but Adam was wearing eyeliner? That was definitely new. And his hair was way different, though I was slightly surprised at how much I thought it suited him. The darker color made his light eyes pop with the contrast. And, in a moment of honesty that I would never admit to out loud, it was impossible to not notice the way the new look turned him from the cute theatre guy into the really hot rock star.
A wave of emotion crashed over me, leaving me momentarily stunned, as I realized that I had wanted to see Adam (or anyone from home, really) so much that it ached deep inside me, dormant until now. And that I had promised myself that if I ever got to see Adam again, I would stop this stupid childish game and just talk to him. But I made that promise on the off chance that I wouldn’t be James White anymore. If he doesn’t know who I am, it doesn’t count. Right? Right.
"Guess we’re going to be here a while," a grumbling voice snapped me from my own thoughts, and I turned to see Frank beside me, obviously angry with the whole thing. He hadn’t even thought I’d make it to Hollywood, and now all he wanted was for them to send me home. But I was not about to go down without a fight. Or, well, a note or whatever.
"Yeah, we are," I said, faking the best smile I could, which wasn’t as hard as it usually was for some odd reason.