"History" (1/1) by Lisa Michelle
Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction.
Category: Kris/Adam angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Kris’s weekend alone is far from what he expected.
“History” (1/1)
By Lisa Michelle
Kris fumbled with the key and opened the door to the old, dusty cabin. He dropped his duffel bag just as he heard the squeaking of the hinges. Fumbling for the light switch, he finally found the right one to light the small hallway.
The place smelled musty. Of course, it wasn’t used much. His brother came up his family maybe once a year. Kris’s parents found the drive up to the north Georgia mountains too daunting. However, they all proclaimed a yearly family reunion in every summer would be great, but steps were never taken to make it happen. Even though the Allen family owned the cabin, there were very few Allens in it at one time.
Right now, Kris was grateful for the privacy. He had just finished a long string of shows on the road, so was looking forward to sleeping in and hearing nothing but crickets and tree toads at night.
Flipping on the kitchen light, he saw everything was clean and the dishes were all put away. Opening the fridge, he saw a container of coffee, but suspected it was out-of-date. Rule number one was nothing left in the fridge that could spoil. However, he might feel adventurous in the morning.
Kris went back to the truck and hauled his groceries inside the house. Nothing fancy - bread, peanut butter, cereal, chips and beer. Not the healthiest, but it was comfort food and he was only planning to stay for the weekend. Besides, there was a small town only a half hour away, so he wasn’t cut off from civilization entirely.
As he was putting the groceries away, he heard something coming from inside the house.
Shit.
Kris walked down the hallway to the first bedroom. He flicked on the light. Nothing. No, it was down the hall. Trying to ignore all the horror movies he had watched and heard about, Kris ventured to the end of the hall.
Why had he driven up here at night?
The last bedroom was the jackpot. He turned on the light and saw a man sitting on the bed. He was crying.
Kris was hesitant, but stepped inside the room. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
The man looked up at him. He had dark hair and pretty blue eyes. His clothes looked at little out of date, but Kris wasn’t exactly one to look like he stepped out of a fashion magazine. The man looked like he’d been crying.
“I just want to stay here for a while,” he said.
“Yeah, well, you don’t live here,” Kris countered.
“This was my childhood bedroom,” the man said. “It looks different now.”
“Well, we’ve remodeled,” Kris told him. “Like I said, you’re going to have to leave. You’re trespassing on private property.”
“People always tell me I have to leave. Or I have to change. I don’t understand why I’m not good enough,” the man said and turned his head to the wall.
Okay. Wow. Was there a psych facility nearby? This guy sounded like he needed a therapist now. Kris took a deep breath. “Can I call someone for you?” He pulled his cell out of his pocket. No bars. Shit. Well, this man didn’t need to know that. “Parents?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Boyfriend?”
The man turned and looked at Kris as if he hadn’t understood the question. “Boyfriend?”
“Yeah, boyfriend,” Kris reiterated.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, but I’d like one,” he said.
“Well, me too,” Kris replied. “Tell that to my ex.”
The guy jumped up and stepped closer to Kris. “Tell me about your boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Kris said, stepping back a little.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” the guy said. “I’m just lonely and want to talk.”
“How did you get in?” Kris asked.
“Back door was unlocked.”
“That’s breaking and entering,” Kris told him.
“No, it’s just entering. Unlocked, remember.”
“Smart ass,” Kris told him. “Look -“
“My name is Adam,” he said. “Adam Lambert. My parents and I lived here years ago and I just wanted to see what it looked like now. I really don’t have anywhere to go and nothing to do, so don’t call the police. Not yet. I’ll be gone before you go to bed. Promise.”
He was really cute and has pretty eyes. And he could be an ax murderer. A cute ax murderer, but still one nonetheless.
“Please, please.”
“God, you’re like a five-year-old,” Kris said. “Okay.”
Adam smiled.
“Want a beer?” Kris asked.
“No, I’m good.”
****
“So that’s it,” Kris said. “Bryan couldn’t handle all the traveling.”
“But you’re a musician,” Adam said. “You have to travel. He should just understand that.”
“Well, there’s a difference between understanding something with your head versus your heart,” Kris said. Adam still looked confused. Perhaps Adam was younger than Kris had initially thought. And if he didn’t have much experience with relationships, he might have more difficulty with all of this. However, he was a good listener. “What about you?” Kris opened his second beer.
“What about me?” Adam said.
“Is there someone you’re interested in? A potential boyfriend?”
Adam looked down at the floor. “It’s too late for me.”
“What? C’mon, there’s gotta be someone. A crush? Someone you like but probably out of your league?”
“Well, there was someone,” Adam admitted. “He kind of looked like you, but I was too scared.”
“Too scared for what?” Kris asked.
“To talk to him,” Adam said.
Adam shook his head. “No, it’s too late.”
“Okay, someone’s pessimistic tonight,” Kris said. “I bet I could help you. We could call him or something.”
“NO!” Adam said. “I mean no thanks. It’s okay,” Adam apologized. “What type of music do you like?”
Wow. Abrupt change of subject. “Lots. Some country. Rock. Pop.”
“I like Freddie Mercury and David Bowie,” Adam told him.
“Yeah, classic rock is great,” Kris admitted. “Much better than lots of crap on the radio.” Of course, Kris never told Adam that he once had songs on the radio or about Idol. It was the past and he wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be six years later.
“You’re right. Radio sucks,” Adam said with a smile.
Kris finished off his second beer and was dying to turn on the TV. “Um, Adam, it’s kind of late and I wanted to -“
“Don’t leave. Please,” he begged.
“Are you sure I can’t call someone for you?” Kris asked. “There must be someone who -“
“There isn’t,” Adam said. “No one.”
“Then tell me why.” Kris started to get up off the chair.
“No, just stay there and I’ll stay here on the bed,” Adam said. “You can talk about anything you want. Sports. Politics. Whatever. Just keep me company.”
This was very weird. However, Kris felt sorry for Adam and was worried about him. Perhaps if he forced him to leave, he might get into more trouble.
Kris was tired after the long drive and for some strange reason; he wasn’t scared of Adam, just scared for him, if that made any sense. “Okay, I’ll talk to you about my favorite team, the Arkansas Razorbacks. It all started back when I was I kid -“
****
Kris woke up the next morning in the chair. It was bright. He never remembered falling asleep, but he obviously did. Perhaps he bored himself and Adam with football talk.
Adam.
Adam was gone. He went through the whole cabin, but found nothing. Nothing was even missing. His duffel bag, laptop, phone and all the groceries. If Adam had been a thief, wouldn’t he have taken something to sell or pawn? If he was homeless, at least some food?
Lambert. That name rang a bell. Did the Lamberts really own this place a long time ago? He might’ve remembered his parents saying something about that. He could call his parents and ask them, but it was early and he might sound like a crazy person.
Kris looked at the stove clock. It was a little after eight in the morning. Bread and peanut butter wasn’t going to cut it for breakfast. He was starving and needed a big breakfast. Grabbing his laptop (in case there were real thieves) he left the cabin and headed to the nearest town with a diner. Perhaps he might even see Adam.
Twenty minutes later, he was in a booth and had already placed his order of pancakes, bacon and a side of grits. There were a few other people here, mostly Medicare age, as he waited in the booth built for four. Sipping his strong coffee, Kris got out his laptop and booted it up. The diner advertised free Wi-Fi and he connected to it. Opening his browser, he typed in Adam Lambert and waited to see if anything interesting came up.
“Can I top you off, sweetie?”
Kris looked up to see a woman in her sixties in dark pants and a white polo shirt. She had an apron tied around her waist with a pad sticking out of it. The name tag pinned to her shirt indicated her name was Ginny. “Sure,” he answered and waited as she refilled his cup.
“Wow, there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” she said.
“Adam Lambert,” Kris said.
“Pardon me for snooping,” she replied. “I’m not one of those gossipy old busybodies, but this is a small town and there ain’t much to do.”
“I’m not from here, but my family owns a cabin in the mountains about a half-hour from here,” Kris told her.
“I suspected you weren’t,” Ginny said. “Most young people go to the Starbucks ten minutes away from here. We had to put that dang Wi-Fi in in order to keep us in the red. Most teenagers come in with their parents after church and stare at their phones while the food gets cold,” she said. “Walter ain’t as young as he used to be and he’s back there flipping pancakes for those ingrates-“
“Ma’am,” Kris interrupted. “You said something about Adam Lambert.”
“Right, sugar,” she replied. “Let me get your food and I’ll tell you all about them.”
After her Wi-Fi rant, Kris closed his laptop and sipped the coffee; Ginny appeared not two minutes later with a plate of hot pancakes, bacon and grits. She slid with rather ease for a woman her age across from him.
“I told Don I’m on break,” she confessed. “Besides, most of these people just want a good old cup of coffee and to be left alone.”
Kris pushed his computer to the side and dug into the pancakes.
“You ain’t going to find the Adam Lambert on your computer I’m going to tell you about,” she said. “Cause he’s dead.”
“Dead, but -“ Kris started coughing.
“Hands up, sugar,” she instructed. “We’re not up-to-date on our CPR.”
He did as she said and then took a sip of coffee and waited for her to continue her story.
“The Lamberts lived here in the 60s and 70’s I reckon,” she began. “They had a son named Adam. Sweet young man. He came into the diner here. You see he didn’t have many friends. He got made fun of ‘cause he was different.”
“Different?” Kris said.
“Well, I only know what I heard. That he liked boys,” Ginny said. “Back then people didn’t talk about that stuff. Now it’s all over that dang Internet. Lots of girls liked him, but I never saw him bring one in here. I’m sure boys did, too, but they’d never admit it.”
“So, he was gay,” Kris said, polishing off his pancakes and reaching for a strip of bacon.
“Well, sugar, like I said, people didn’t talk about that kinda stuff back then. It was the late ‘70s and, well and then -“
“What?”
“He killed hisself one night,” she said. “Yes, I believe it was around Halloween. Didn’t stop the celebration in the town square, though. Anyway, his parents were real torn up. They moved out of state soon after it happened.”
“Where?”
“I believe it was Florida. I guess they might be still alive, but I don’t suspect his dad is, though. Had heart trouble all his life. They probably live in one of them old folks’ home if they are,” she said. “Oh, and I think he killed hisself in the house.”
“The bedroom?” Kris ventured a guess.
“I don’t know, they never said on the news and I didn’t know the Lamberts . . .”
Had he been talking to a ghost? He tried to listen to Ginny, but it all made sense. Adam liked Freddie Mercury and David Bowie. It was too late for him to have a boyfriend. There was no one to call to get him. So he just stayed at the house waiting for someone to talk to him. Is that what he did?
“Hon, you okay?” Ginny asked.
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” Kris said. “Fine.”
“Well, holler if you need anything,” she said and left the booth.
Kris went over the whole night in his head and the only explanation he could come up with was he’d been talking to a ghost. Adam never ate or drank anything. Kris never touched him or even got close enough to do so. Weird, but there was no other way to explain it. Sure, he’d talk his parents and ask if the Lamberts really owned it, or Ginny for that matter, but he didn’t want to raise too many more eyebrows.
He ordered more bacon and had another refill from Ginny since she’d been so nice.
As Kris sipped his third cup of coffee, he saw Adam sitting in a booth across the diner. He raised his cup and winked at him.
Kris did the same.
****
END (1/1)
Category: Kris/Adam angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Kris’s weekend alone is far from what he expected.
“History” (1/1)
By Lisa Michelle
Kris fumbled with the key and opened the door to the old, dusty cabin. He dropped his duffel bag just as he heard the squeaking of the hinges. Fumbling for the light switch, he finally found the right one to light the small hallway.
The place smelled musty. Of course, it wasn’t used much. His brother came up his family maybe once a year. Kris’s parents found the drive up to the north Georgia mountains too daunting. However, they all proclaimed a yearly family reunion in every summer would be great, but steps were never taken to make it happen. Even though the Allen family owned the cabin, there were very few Allens in it at one time.
Right now, Kris was grateful for the privacy. He had just finished a long string of shows on the road, so was looking forward to sleeping in and hearing nothing but crickets and tree toads at night.
Flipping on the kitchen light, he saw everything was clean and the dishes were all put away. Opening the fridge, he saw a container of coffee, but suspected it was out-of-date. Rule number one was nothing left in the fridge that could spoil. However, he might feel adventurous in the morning.
Kris went back to the truck and hauled his groceries inside the house. Nothing fancy - bread, peanut butter, cereal, chips and beer. Not the healthiest, but it was comfort food and he was only planning to stay for the weekend. Besides, there was a small town only a half hour away, so he wasn’t cut off from civilization entirely.
As he was putting the groceries away, he heard something coming from inside the house.
Shit.
Kris walked down the hallway to the first bedroom. He flicked on the light. Nothing. No, it was down the hall. Trying to ignore all the horror movies he had watched and heard about, Kris ventured to the end of the hall.
Why had he driven up here at night?
The last bedroom was the jackpot. He turned on the light and saw a man sitting on the bed. He was crying.
Kris was hesitant, but stepped inside the room. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
The man looked up at him. He had dark hair and pretty blue eyes. His clothes looked at little out of date, but Kris wasn’t exactly one to look like he stepped out of a fashion magazine. The man looked like he’d been crying.
“I just want to stay here for a while,” he said.
“Yeah, well, you don’t live here,” Kris countered.
“This was my childhood bedroom,” the man said. “It looks different now.”
“Well, we’ve remodeled,” Kris told him. “Like I said, you’re going to have to leave. You’re trespassing on private property.”
“People always tell me I have to leave. Or I have to change. I don’t understand why I’m not good enough,” the man said and turned his head to the wall.
Okay. Wow. Was there a psych facility nearby? This guy sounded like he needed a therapist now. Kris took a deep breath. “Can I call someone for you?” He pulled his cell out of his pocket. No bars. Shit. Well, this man didn’t need to know that. “Parents?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Boyfriend?”
The man turned and looked at Kris as if he hadn’t understood the question. “Boyfriend?”
“Yeah, boyfriend,” Kris reiterated.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, but I’d like one,” he said.
“Well, me too,” Kris replied. “Tell that to my ex.”
The guy jumped up and stepped closer to Kris. “Tell me about your boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Kris said, stepping back a little.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” the guy said. “I’m just lonely and want to talk.”
“How did you get in?” Kris asked.
“Back door was unlocked.”
“That’s breaking and entering,” Kris told him.
“No, it’s just entering. Unlocked, remember.”
“Smart ass,” Kris told him. “Look -“
“My name is Adam,” he said. “Adam Lambert. My parents and I lived here years ago and I just wanted to see what it looked like now. I really don’t have anywhere to go and nothing to do, so don’t call the police. Not yet. I’ll be gone before you go to bed. Promise.”
He was really cute and has pretty eyes. And he could be an ax murderer. A cute ax murderer, but still one nonetheless.
“Please, please.”
“God, you’re like a five-year-old,” Kris said. “Okay.”
Adam smiled.
“Want a beer?” Kris asked.
“No, I’m good.”
****
“So that’s it,” Kris said. “Bryan couldn’t handle all the traveling.”
“But you’re a musician,” Adam said. “You have to travel. He should just understand that.”
“Well, there’s a difference between understanding something with your head versus your heart,” Kris said. Adam still looked confused. Perhaps Adam was younger than Kris had initially thought. And if he didn’t have much experience with relationships, he might have more difficulty with all of this. However, he was a good listener. “What about you?” Kris opened his second beer.
“What about me?” Adam said.
“Is there someone you’re interested in? A potential boyfriend?”
Adam looked down at the floor. “It’s too late for me.”
“What? C’mon, there’s gotta be someone. A crush? Someone you like but probably out of your league?”
“Well, there was someone,” Adam admitted. “He kind of looked like you, but I was too scared.”
“Too scared for what?” Kris asked.
“To talk to him,” Adam said.
Adam shook his head. “No, it’s too late.”
“Okay, someone’s pessimistic tonight,” Kris said. “I bet I could help you. We could call him or something.”
“NO!” Adam said. “I mean no thanks. It’s okay,” Adam apologized. “What type of music do you like?”
Wow. Abrupt change of subject. “Lots. Some country. Rock. Pop.”
“I like Freddie Mercury and David Bowie,” Adam told him.
“Yeah, classic rock is great,” Kris admitted. “Much better than lots of crap on the radio.” Of course, Kris never told Adam that he once had songs on the radio or about Idol. It was the past and he wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be six years later.
“You’re right. Radio sucks,” Adam said with a smile.
Kris finished off his second beer and was dying to turn on the TV. “Um, Adam, it’s kind of late and I wanted to -“
“Don’t leave. Please,” he begged.
“Are you sure I can’t call someone for you?” Kris asked. “There must be someone who -“
“There isn’t,” Adam said. “No one.”
“Then tell me why.” Kris started to get up off the chair.
“No, just stay there and I’ll stay here on the bed,” Adam said. “You can talk about anything you want. Sports. Politics. Whatever. Just keep me company.”
This was very weird. However, Kris felt sorry for Adam and was worried about him. Perhaps if he forced him to leave, he might get into more trouble.
Kris was tired after the long drive and for some strange reason; he wasn’t scared of Adam, just scared for him, if that made any sense. “Okay, I’ll talk to you about my favorite team, the Arkansas Razorbacks. It all started back when I was I kid -“
****
Kris woke up the next morning in the chair. It was bright. He never remembered falling asleep, but he obviously did. Perhaps he bored himself and Adam with football talk.
Adam.
Adam was gone. He went through the whole cabin, but found nothing. Nothing was even missing. His duffel bag, laptop, phone and all the groceries. If Adam had been a thief, wouldn’t he have taken something to sell or pawn? If he was homeless, at least some food?
Lambert. That name rang a bell. Did the Lamberts really own this place a long time ago? He might’ve remembered his parents saying something about that. He could call his parents and ask them, but it was early and he might sound like a crazy person.
Kris looked at the stove clock. It was a little after eight in the morning. Bread and peanut butter wasn’t going to cut it for breakfast. He was starving and needed a big breakfast. Grabbing his laptop (in case there were real thieves) he left the cabin and headed to the nearest town with a diner. Perhaps he might even see Adam.
Twenty minutes later, he was in a booth and had already placed his order of pancakes, bacon and a side of grits. There were a few other people here, mostly Medicare age, as he waited in the booth built for four. Sipping his strong coffee, Kris got out his laptop and booted it up. The diner advertised free Wi-Fi and he connected to it. Opening his browser, he typed in Adam Lambert and waited to see if anything interesting came up.
“Can I top you off, sweetie?”
Kris looked up to see a woman in her sixties in dark pants and a white polo shirt. She had an apron tied around her waist with a pad sticking out of it. The name tag pinned to her shirt indicated her name was Ginny. “Sure,” he answered and waited as she refilled his cup.
“Wow, there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” she said.
“Adam Lambert,” Kris said.
“Pardon me for snooping,” she replied. “I’m not one of those gossipy old busybodies, but this is a small town and there ain’t much to do.”
“I’m not from here, but my family owns a cabin in the mountains about a half-hour from here,” Kris told her.
“I suspected you weren’t,” Ginny said. “Most young people go to the Starbucks ten minutes away from here. We had to put that dang Wi-Fi in in order to keep us in the red. Most teenagers come in with their parents after church and stare at their phones while the food gets cold,” she said. “Walter ain’t as young as he used to be and he’s back there flipping pancakes for those ingrates-“
“Ma’am,” Kris interrupted. “You said something about Adam Lambert.”
“Right, sugar,” she replied. “Let me get your food and I’ll tell you all about them.”
After her Wi-Fi rant, Kris closed his laptop and sipped the coffee; Ginny appeared not two minutes later with a plate of hot pancakes, bacon and grits. She slid with rather ease for a woman her age across from him.
“I told Don I’m on break,” she confessed. “Besides, most of these people just want a good old cup of coffee and to be left alone.”
Kris pushed his computer to the side and dug into the pancakes.
“You ain’t going to find the Adam Lambert on your computer I’m going to tell you about,” she said. “Cause he’s dead.”
“Dead, but -“ Kris started coughing.
“Hands up, sugar,” she instructed. “We’re not up-to-date on our CPR.”
He did as she said and then took a sip of coffee and waited for her to continue her story.
“The Lamberts lived here in the 60s and 70’s I reckon,” she began. “They had a son named Adam. Sweet young man. He came into the diner here. You see he didn’t have many friends. He got made fun of ‘cause he was different.”
“Different?” Kris said.
“Well, I only know what I heard. That he liked boys,” Ginny said. “Back then people didn’t talk about that stuff. Now it’s all over that dang Internet. Lots of girls liked him, but I never saw him bring one in here. I’m sure boys did, too, but they’d never admit it.”
“So, he was gay,” Kris said, polishing off his pancakes and reaching for a strip of bacon.
“Well, sugar, like I said, people didn’t talk about that kinda stuff back then. It was the late ‘70s and, well and then -“
“What?”
“He killed hisself one night,” she said. “Yes, I believe it was around Halloween. Didn’t stop the celebration in the town square, though. Anyway, his parents were real torn up. They moved out of state soon after it happened.”
“Where?”
“I believe it was Florida. I guess they might be still alive, but I don’t suspect his dad is, though. Had heart trouble all his life. They probably live in one of them old folks’ home if they are,” she said. “Oh, and I think he killed hisself in the house.”
“The bedroom?” Kris ventured a guess.
“I don’t know, they never said on the news and I didn’t know the Lamberts . . .”
Had he been talking to a ghost? He tried to listen to Ginny, but it all made sense. Adam liked Freddie Mercury and David Bowie. It was too late for him to have a boyfriend. There was no one to call to get him. So he just stayed at the house waiting for someone to talk to him. Is that what he did?
“Hon, you okay?” Ginny asked.
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” Kris said. “Fine.”
“Well, holler if you need anything,” she said and left the booth.
Kris went over the whole night in his head and the only explanation he could come up with was he’d been talking to a ghost. Adam never ate or drank anything. Kris never touched him or even got close enough to do so. Weird, but there was no other way to explain it. Sure, he’d talk his parents and ask if the Lamberts really owned it, or Ginny for that matter, but he didn’t want to raise too many more eyebrows.
He ordered more bacon and had another refill from Ginny since she’d been so nice.
As Kris sipped his third cup of coffee, he saw Adam sitting in a booth across the diner. He raised his cup and winked at him.
Kris did the same.
****
END (1/1)