Lost Princes, chapter 7
Lost Princes
Chapter 7
Adam was in a good mood. Kris had sent him off to go to the massage parlor by foot, claiming a little walk would do him good. And he had been right. It was nice outside, the wind had picked up a little, chasing the last of the fog away. Tentatively he rolled his shoulders and winced. Damn, he was tense. It had been really thoughtful of Kris to arrange that massage. And their love-making last night-so sweet and intense! It had kept the dreams at bay, for once. Adam sighed. Kris probably thought the long days at the studio were taking their toll on him, when in reality--
Fuck. He knew he needed to tell him the truth. Only, he just wasn’t sure how understanding Kris would be if Adam told him he was dreaming of another man. But he would have to talk to him, better sooner than later; it would be all kinds of wrong to keep it from him any longer. Yes, he’d talk to Kris later today, when he was back from the massage.
Lost in his thoughts, he almost walked past the massage parlor. The sound of somebody practicing on an e-bass made him look up though, at an open window right above the shop. Whoever was up there played the same riff over and over again. Adam grinned. He knew that one by heart, the intricate bass line from ’Bound to You’. It didn’t even sound half-bad, the player had changed the rhythm slightly, giving it an almost funky touch which suited the song really well.
Adam glanced at his wristwatch. He was five minutes early. That would explain why the shop window was still shuttered close. Only the neon signs above it gave any indication that he was at the right place. ‘The Garden of Eden.’ He smiled slightly, wondering if that was an allusion to Iron Butterfly, who were from San Diego, after all. Shrugging, it didn’t matter anyway, he stepped closer to the door and gave it a tentative push. It turned out to be open, so he walked in.
His arrival was announced by the tinny chime of little golden bells on a bordeaux-colored drawstring. He looked around curiously. The shop was on the smaller side, there were a small counter--in fake-colonial design but extensively bedazzled--a potted palm tree, and a brass coffee table with a threadbare sofa in green velvet. On the counter stood a lonely joss stick spreading patchouli. An arched doorway that probably led to the backroom was closed off with a tacky bead curtain. This was where Kris had sent him? The therapists had to be very good to make up for that décor.
“Hey,” a voice boomed from above. “Your ten o’ clock appointment is here!” Immediately the bass fell silent.
“I’m coming!” Hurried steps clattered down a wooden staircase, and then the bead curtain parted and a slim figure appeared. At first Adam only zoomed in on the crazy multi-colored hairstyle-white-blond bangs with bright pink accents, black streaks thrown in between--but then his eyes fell on the man’s face. His heart missed a few beats, and staggered back to life painfully. Involuntarily, he stumbled back, hands reaching out for something to hold on to. There was a noise like static in his ears, hell, in his brain, and he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. Didn’t dare to believe it, almost.
“T-Tommy?” he managed weakly.
The other man seemed just as shocked. His eyes wide and full of disbelief, like he was shaken to the core. Helplessly they stared at each other, at a loss for words. Adam recovered first.
“Tommy,” he said. And again, “Tommy,” as if he couldn’t get enough of just saying it, just tasting it on his tongue. Slowly he approached the other man, afraid that one wrong move might make him disappear again.
Tommy stood frozen like a statue, his breath coming in short, clipped gasps. His mouth opened and closed alternately, but no words came out.
“Tommy,” Adam said again, the name like a prayer on his lips, and then he laid a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, his touch very light as if he was afraid the other man might shatter at any moment. A jolt ran through the prince’s body and he jerkily stepped forward into Adam’s arms.
Adam caught him and gathered him close, stroking his soft wispy hair, barely feeling the tears that were running down his own face. Tommy was trembling and shuddering against him, apparently totally overwhelmed by his emotions.
“Tommy,” Adam whispered, “look at me!”
The prince tilted his head up, like in trance. His face was completely open, every emotion clearly visible. Adam leaned down and kissed him.
With a helpless moan, Tommy surrendered his mouth as Adam reclaimed what had been his all along, picking up where they had left off so many, many months ago. Everything fell back into place where it belonged, in utter perfection. It was like coming home. Finally, Tommy was here, with him. He’d never let him go again. His whole being brimming with happiness, Adam ended the kiss and gazed deeply into Tommy’s eyes, finding them shining with love and wonder.
“How…how did you know I was here?” Tommy whispered, searching Adam’s face.
Adam blinked. “I didn’t. It’s unbelievable, but it’s been pure coincidence! Kris made the appointment for me-he thought I needed a massage! How crazy is that?!”
“Totally crazy,” the prince said, with a smile so wide it threatened to split his face in two. “Oh, Adam! I can’t really believe it! You’re here! I mean, I knew you lived in LA, but for you to just walk in here? What are the chances? Things like that don’t really happen.”
He shook his head, smiling through his tears. Adam reached out to gently dab them away with his thumb, aware that he himself was smiling like a loon, but unable to stop it.
“Yeah, it’s strange. You know, Kris said he had checked this shop out. How can he not have seen you?”
“Adjani said someone asked for a blond masseur,” Tommy said, frowning slightly. “So he must have meant me, I guess. But, who’s that Kris you are talking about? Not my father’s former concubine, right? I mean, what would you have to do with him? Or...or is he…?” He broke off, probably because he had seen the expression on Adam’s face.
Oh God. Adam closed his eyes as reality began to reassert himself inside his brain. What a terrible, terrible mess! How could he ever explain everything to Tommy? Was there even a way to tell him the truth without losing him again, just moments after he had gotten him back?
“Well,” he hedged, wanting to stall, but then he found he couldn’t and it just rushed out of him. “Yes, that Kris. He and I, we live together.”
“Together?” Tommy echoed, taking a step back, his face turning deathly pale. “Together how? You guys sharing an apartment, or what?”
Adam grabbed for Tommy’s hand, taking it in an iron grip. “No. I mean, yes, that too. But we’re also a couple. Tommy, please-“
The prince didn’t try to pull away, but his hand went completely limp in Adam’s grip. “You and Kris. A couple?” His voice was high with incredulity. “And I waited, like an idiot, wanting to-to make something of myself first, wanting to have a life of my own before I went to you. Goddamn, I was going to audition for your band! And you, you just go and…and-“
Adam pulled Tommy’s frozen body into his arms, holding him tightly. “It wasn’t like that, I swear,” he mumbled against his neck. “I can try and explain, but it’s a long story and-“
“Oh, no,” Tommy said, inching back a bit so he could look into Adam’s eyes. “You will explain it, and you’ll do it now. Come on, let’s go upstairs into my room.”
Suddenly he was determined and fierce again, just like when he had helped Adam escape, when he had declared he would stay behind because of his people. Only now, it seemed even more natural, like he had grown into it. Adam realized that Tommy had to have changed a lot in the past months. Like he himself probably had, too. Who knew if they even were right for each other anymore?
“Okay,” he said, his heart already sinking, “let’s go to your room.”
Tommy led him through a hallway and upstairs. There was a corridor from which several doors led off, all of them closed.
“Who’s here with you?” Adam asked. “Was that Adjani’s voice I heard calling you?”
“Yes, Adjani’s here, and Yasin and Shahin are, too. I…I had to get away, and they helped me. We’re running this shop together.”
Adam grabbed his arm. “You had to get away? What happened?”
With a bitter laugh Tommy wrenched his arm out of Adam’s grip. “What happened? My fucking father, of course. Wanted to send me off to a fucking training camp run by some sort of pseudo-marines.” Angrily, he pushed a door open and stepped through.
Adam followed and found himself in a sparsely furnished room with stark white walls that had all kinds of posters attached to them, a lot of Depeche Mode and Marilyn Manson, but also one of Bowie, and, right next to the black futon bed, even one of Adam himself, in which he was all pale in black and blue and wore a lot of feathers.
The room’s single window went to the street. It was still open. Adam stepped closer to it and looked outside. Yep. It was the window he had looked up to, only a few minutes ago. Whole worlds seemed to be lying between hat moment and this.
“So that was you on the bass?”
Tommy nodded, blushing a bit. “I know I still need some practice,” he said defiantly.
“You played my song,” Adam stated.
Now Tommy blushed even more. “Yeah, I did. Like I said, I wanted to audition for you.”
Adam couldn’t help but smile delightedly. “I love what you did with that riff, give it that funky touch. Makes it more interesting.”
It seemed like very nearly, Tommy smiled back. But he caught himself in time, his face becoming hard again, and a bit grim.
“Stop the small talk, Adam. Explain why you’re with him.” Tommy had his arms folded in front of his chest, and Adam’s heart sank a bit more at how unapproachable he looked right then.
Nonetheless, when he told him the whole complicated story, he didn’t leave out anything nor did he try and embellish what had happened. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw Adjani, Shahin and Yasin sneak into the room and sit down to listen to him. He didn’t acknowledge them; he just wanted to get through this tale and was relieved when the prince listened to him without interrupting him even once. He finished with the events that had taken place that morning, explaining once more how Kris had sent him over for a supposed massage.
The room was silent when he was done. He saw Adjani rubbing his face, and both Yasin and Shahin had tears running down their faces. Tommy’s expression was impossible to read, though. He gazed at Adam with narrowed, almost hostile eyes. Adam waited patiently, but it was hard. His heart was doing double time, and at that moment he felt like he had never wanted anything in his life so badly as the prince’s understanding and maybe his forgiveness.
Shaking his head, Tommy turned away from Adam, stepping up to the window to look outside. Suddenly words broke out of him. “Goddamn, Adam! How messed up is this? I can’t even fault you for what happened! And even if I could-“ He turned around and took Adam’s hand. “I’ve missed you so much, and I’ve dreamed of you, of the things we did together, of the things that we would do, when-“ His voice broke. “And now you’re here, telling me you’re with somebody else!” He was the picture of utter misery.
Adam couldn’t help it, he enveloped the crying prince in his arms and hugged him tightly. “We’ll think of something,” he said. “I won’t let you go again. Not this time.”
“But how?” the prince asked desperately. “You think Kris will let you go? Just like that? And you don’t sound like you’re ready to let go of him, either.”
“Kris will be gone,” Adjani interrupted from behind. He’d gotten up to stand close to them. “I’ve known him for years. I’d bet that he’s got a bad conscience for what he did, and now he sent Adam here trying to make up for it. When you return to your apartment, Adam, you’ll find him gone.”
Oh God. Slowly Adam’s hands sank away from Tommy as the truth in Adjani’s words hit him. Yeah. That sounded a lot like Kris. Helplessly he looked at the other men in the room, before sinking to his knees, almost like in slow motion. Burying his face in his hands, he sobbed, “No. No. This is too much. I can’t--. Oh, God. Kris. Tommy. Oh, God, what do I do?”
His whole life was falling apart around him, it seemed. Again. Every time he thought things were finally going to be all right, something bad happened. Every time he thought he had found someone special, they were taken away from him. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with it again. It felt like this was one time too many. He tried to suppress his tears, but they kept on falling, dripping into his hollow hands, and the sobs shook his body like they were about to tear him apart.
Through the haze he felt someone crouching down beside him. “Adam,” Tommy said, “please, please don’t cry. We’ll go looking for Kris right now, okay? We’ll find him. He can’t be too far yet, can he?”
“Yes, we’ll all go with you,” Adjani said. “We’ll get him back.”
~~~~~
The five of them darted down the street, Tommy, Yasin, Adjani and Shahin still in their fake oriental clothes. They made it to the apartment building in ten minutes. Adam, though in good shape from all the jogging he did, was completely out of breath when he inserted the key into the lock of their entrance door with trembling hands.
When he had finally fumbled the door open, they all piled into the narrow hallway, from where they set off to check the two rooms, the bath and the kitchen. But to no avail. Kris was gone, like Adjani had predicted. A check of the closets and cupboards showed that he hadn’t taken much with him, just a change of clothes and his guitar.
Feeling totally helpless and desperate, Adam collapsed onto the old lumpy couch. “What do we do now?” he asked; at the same time Tommy said, “Where the hell can he have gone?”
“Fuck if I know. There are so many places.” Adam’s mind raced. “The bridge, where he used to live. Or he could be at the park, playing. Or at a shelter. Shit, for all I know he could just as well be on his way back to Arkansas. I just don’t know!” He almost shouted the last sentence, completely out of his mind with worry. The other four watched him sympathetically. Tommy had sat down next to him and laid an arm around his shoulders to comfort him.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door, immediately followed by the sound of it being unlocked. Then somebody entered with hurried staccato steps.
“Mr. Lambert,” Juanita’s loud, urgent voice rang out. “Thank God and His Saints you’re here! Something terrible has happened to Mr. Kris!”