The Balcony - 1/1
Title: The Balcony
Author: Jeweledvixen
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The tabloids come between Adam and Kris. Much angst.
Author's Note: No trigger warning except there is no happy ending. I was thinking about the prompt "Ennui" in some Fan Fic challenges and this is my stab at that prompt.
Word Count: 984
It's been three days since he left me. I move a few of my things into the guest room. I cannot bear going into the master bedroom that we used to share. I sit on the balcony in the guest room watching the traffic go by. Occasionally I am overcome by hunger and so I go to the kitchen and eat something. I can not tell you what I eat, but it fills me so I no longer feel the hunger in my stomach. I have a bottle of water with me on the balcony and sip on it as I sit there hour after hour. I don't really notice the traffic going by. My mind is on him. On us. On why he left me. He is so angry, but what he accuses me of is so ridiculous that I can't believe he thinks I would ever do that. I always feel unworthy of his love, so having him leave me is no big surprise.
It also surprises me that he fell in love with me at all, that he bought this house with me, that he lived with me, that he was my lover for over a year. I am just getting used to the idea that he really is in love with me when this happens. It is the other shoe dropping and I have let my guard down, so I am not expecting it. It is like he has punched me in the gut, knocking all the air out of my lungs. It still feels that way. I call him every day but he never answers my calls. I leave him messages telling him I love him and that I am innocent but he never replies.
It's been eight days since he left me My world has become the balcony outside the guest bedroom. I still spend all my time sitting on the balcony there staring at nothing. It is too much effort for me to do anything else. I still eat what I'm hungry, but it's just a biological necessity. I don't leave the house at all. Friends come over to see how I am doing, but I barely speak to them. What is there to say? My agent, my producers and my personal assistant all call and want to know when I'll be coming back to the studio to finish my next album. All I need to do is record the last three songs, then the producers and I will fine tune it all and it will be ready to go. But I have no enthusiasm or desire to move from my chair on the balcony and go work on my album. There is just two or three weeks work left on it, but that means nothing to me now. Nothing means anything to me now.
It has been two weeks since he left me. I have my groceries delivered so I don't need to leave the house. My friends still come over, but they never stay long since I don't talk to them. They tell me they are worried about me and ask me out to lunch or dinner, or just to go for a walk. I decline all their invitations. I don't need anything more. I don't deserve anything more.
It has been a month since he left me. My mother finally talks me into going to a small cafe nearby for lunch. We sit at an outside table. I order a small chef's salad and ice water. Mom tries to get me to eat some of her French fries, but I refuse. I am getting restless and want to get back to my balcony where I feel safe, where I belong. I eat my salad quickly and hurry home to safety.
It has been six weeks since he left me. The doorbell rings. I happen to be in the kitchen to get another bottle of water. I go open the door. There he is, standing on the door step, looking just as gorgeous and amazing as he always does. I break out into a big smile. He has a blank look on his face. "I left my brown leather jacket in the hall closet. I came to pick it up," he states flatly. I am stunned. My smile falls from my face and shatters into a thousand pieces on the tile floor at my feet. Like a robot, I step back and to the side to let him come in. He heads straight for the closet, collects his jacket and heads back toward me.
With a trembling voice, I finally gather my courage and say, "I never cheated on you. I never would. I don't know why you think I would. You know how much I love you."
He heaves a huge sigh. "It doesn't do any good for you to keep denying it. There were pictures in the tabloids of you kissing another man at the bar in your hotel in NYC. I saw them all, so you can save your lies for someone who might believe them." He opens the door.
"Wait!" I cry. "Those pictures are fake! My plane was delayed in Chicago I didn't get to NYC until nearly midnight. I was exhausted and went straight upstairs to my room and went to bed - alone. Please believe me!" I grasp his arm to get him to stay so I can convince him of the truth.
He shoves me away so hard that I stumble backwards into the wall. "Do not touch me!" he orders me. "I don't believe you. I will never believe you. You are a cheater and a liar. I want nothing more to do with you." He walks out the door and slams it shut behind him.
I put both hands on the door and whisper through my tears, "I love you Kris. I always will"
Author: Jeweledvixen
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The tabloids come between Adam and Kris. Much angst.
Author's Note: No trigger warning except there is no happy ending. I was thinking about the prompt "Ennui" in some Fan Fic challenges and this is my stab at that prompt.
Word Count: 984
It's been three days since he left me. I move a few of my things into the guest room. I cannot bear going into the master bedroom that we used to share. I sit on the balcony in the guest room watching the traffic go by. Occasionally I am overcome by hunger and so I go to the kitchen and eat something. I can not tell you what I eat, but it fills me so I no longer feel the hunger in my stomach. I have a bottle of water with me on the balcony and sip on it as I sit there hour after hour. I don't really notice the traffic going by. My mind is on him. On us. On why he left me. He is so angry, but what he accuses me of is so ridiculous that I can't believe he thinks I would ever do that. I always feel unworthy of his love, so having him leave me is no big surprise.
It also surprises me that he fell in love with me at all, that he bought this house with me, that he lived with me, that he was my lover for over a year. I am just getting used to the idea that he really is in love with me when this happens. It is the other shoe dropping and I have let my guard down, so I am not expecting it. It is like he has punched me in the gut, knocking all the air out of my lungs. It still feels that way. I call him every day but he never answers my calls. I leave him messages telling him I love him and that I am innocent but he never replies.
It's been eight days since he left me My world has become the balcony outside the guest bedroom. I still spend all my time sitting on the balcony there staring at nothing. It is too much effort for me to do anything else. I still eat what I'm hungry, but it's just a biological necessity. I don't leave the house at all. Friends come over to see how I am doing, but I barely speak to them. What is there to say? My agent, my producers and my personal assistant all call and want to know when I'll be coming back to the studio to finish my next album. All I need to do is record the last three songs, then the producers and I will fine tune it all and it will be ready to go. But I have no enthusiasm or desire to move from my chair on the balcony and go work on my album. There is just two or three weeks work left on it, but that means nothing to me now. Nothing means anything to me now.
It has been two weeks since he left me. I have my groceries delivered so I don't need to leave the house. My friends still come over, but they never stay long since I don't talk to them. They tell me they are worried about me and ask me out to lunch or dinner, or just to go for a walk. I decline all their invitations. I don't need anything more. I don't deserve anything more.
It has been a month since he left me. My mother finally talks me into going to a small cafe nearby for lunch. We sit at an outside table. I order a small chef's salad and ice water. Mom tries to get me to eat some of her French fries, but I refuse. I am getting restless and want to get back to my balcony where I feel safe, where I belong. I eat my salad quickly and hurry home to safety.
It has been six weeks since he left me. The doorbell rings. I happen to be in the kitchen to get another bottle of water. I go open the door. There he is, standing on the door step, looking just as gorgeous and amazing as he always does. I break out into a big smile. He has a blank look on his face. "I left my brown leather jacket in the hall closet. I came to pick it up," he states flatly. I am stunned. My smile falls from my face and shatters into a thousand pieces on the tile floor at my feet. Like a robot, I step back and to the side to let him come in. He heads straight for the closet, collects his jacket and heads back toward me.
With a trembling voice, I finally gather my courage and say, "I never cheated on you. I never would. I don't know why you think I would. You know how much I love you."
He heaves a huge sigh. "It doesn't do any good for you to keep denying it. There were pictures in the tabloids of you kissing another man at the bar in your hotel in NYC. I saw them all, so you can save your lies for someone who might believe them." He opens the door.
"Wait!" I cry. "Those pictures are fake! My plane was delayed in Chicago I didn't get to NYC until nearly midnight. I was exhausted and went straight upstairs to my room and went to bed - alone. Please believe me!" I grasp his arm to get him to stay so I can convince him of the truth.
He shoves me away so hard that I stumble backwards into the wall. "Do not touch me!" he orders me. "I don't believe you. I will never believe you. You are a cheater and a liar. I want nothing more to do with you." He walks out the door and slams it shut behind him.
I put both hands on the door and whisper through my tears, "I love you Kris. I always will"