Collateral Damage -- Chapter 2
When the package arrived in the mail a few days later, Kris was relieved that he happened to be at home alone to receive it. He didn't want to have to field any awkward questions about its contents from his perpetually curious boyfriend.
And... he wasn't really sure anymore why he'd ordered it.
Kris sat at the kitchen counter, staring at the tiny, innocuous box in front of him, caught in the midst of a mental debate. In the light of day, now that the sting of the tabloids' insinuations had had time to fade, he felt a little silly for answering the rather sketchy internet ad in the first place.
It's probably fake, anyway. Won't do you any good. You've just wasted your money.
Or maybe it's not safe... untested. Don't see an FDA approval sticker anywhere on here, do you?
With a heavy sigh, Kris took the little box upstairs to the bedroom, where he tucked it into the back of his underwear drawer, hoping that it would be safe from Adam's perusal.
I won't take them. It was silly to even order them, so I'll just leave them there.
For now.
**************************************
That evening, Kris and Adam had a charity event to attend. They always attracted a great deal of attention, so Kris was used to dealing with the overly entitled and often obnoxious press on the way in.
Still, he wasn't prepared for how pushy they were tonight.
As long as Adam was with him, everything was fine. Kris was often in awe of how easily Adam managed to handle the never-ending stream of reporters and photographers and others shoving microphones and cameras into his face. He managed to be gracious and polite, but also firm and in control when he had to be, making sure they knew when enough had become enough.
Kris usually just sort of followed in his wake, attached to his hand like a lifeline, smiling and answering questions when he was asked -- but usually, it was Adam they wanted.
"Adam, can we get a picture by the sign?"
A distinguished older gentleman that Kris recognized as one of the organizers of the event called out to Adam, and Adam nodded his acceptance, squeezing Kris's hand before letting go of it to step away from him and toward the large sign outside the children's center where the benefit was being held. There was a barricade surrounding the entrance, and the press couldn't get through to Adam once he had passed it.
Kris watched with a proud, affectionate smile as Adam posed with several officials of the charity, his smile brilliant and easy as ever -- utterly genuine and engaging.
He really is the most photogenic human being on the planet.
"Kris! Kris Allen, do you have a minute?"
Kris turned, mildly surprised to see a young woman smiling brightly and holding out a microphone to him. He nodded, directing his full attention onto her and answering the rather mundane questions she posed. Soon, she was accompanied by several others, each calling out questions to him, trying to get what information they could from him while Adam was otherwise occupied.
"When is Adam's new album coming out?"
"How long have you two been together now?"
"Any plans for after the benefit?"
Kris tried to answer all their questions with the cautious poise and confidence he had seen Adam display, but the simple fact was that, while Kris had been left no choice but to be a quick study in these things and learn how to deal with them -- Adam was a natural. Kris did his best, but felt a little insecure, aware the entire time that Adam would have been handling the attention better.
"Kris!"
His uncertainties were realized when Adam called his name over the tumult of the crowd, and he looked over the heads of the reporters to see his boyfriend beckoning him toward the entrance.
"Okay, guys," Kris told them with a smile. "I've gotta go. See you after, if you have time..."
"Just one more question, Kris, what do you hope to achieve..."
"I haven't gotten a question yet! Kris, over here..."
"Kris! Kris, just one last question!"
Kris felt momentarily overwhelmed, trying to push past the press toward the entrance without being rude, but unable to do so with them deliberately blocking his way, insistent upon getting just one more piece of information for their respective projects.
"Guys," he objected, hating the slight tremor in his voice. "I really just need to go in now. I'm gonna have to..."
He felt an overwhelming sense of relief when the crowd parted, and Adam came to his side, firmly clasping his hand as he turned to speak to the press with a politely apologetic smile.
"You'll have to excuse us now, we have to go inside."
Kris allowed himself to be led along as Adam strode purposefully through the throng of reporters and photographers until they were past the barricade and at a safe distance. Kris let out a shaky sigh of relief as Adam put an affectionate -- and subtly protective -- arm around his shoulders and led him inside.
*****************************
The incident was really no big deal.
At least, that's what Kris thought until he had the misfortune of reading the tabloid headlines the following morning.
"I thought you were going to cancel your subscription to that trash," Adam remarked on his way to the refrigerator as he passed the place where Kris sat at the counter, the magazine open in front of him. "Why do you keep torturing yourself?"
Kris didn't respond, just stared down at the huge, two-page article that was the centerpiece of the gossip rag he was reading. He felt a little sick, his face breaking out in a cold sweat, flushed with embarrassment.
"Dramatic Rescue on the Red Carpet: Adam Lambert Comes to His Idol's Defense"
A piece followed detailing how Kris had appeared lost and faltering outside the benefit, until Adam -- "his hero" -- had appeared to usher him to safety. There were other comments, referring to Adam's strength and command of the situation, in comparison to Kris's relative weakness. The one that particularly stood out to Kris was a rather distasteful reference to him as the "damsel in distress".
"Kris... that's crap."
Adam spoke over his shoulder, and Kris quickly shut the magazine, not having even realized that Adam was looking until that moment. Adam's hand on his shoulder felt oppressively heavy, rather than comforting, as his jaw worked with repressed irritation.
"That had nothing to do with your size and everything to do with your deeply ingrained Southern hospitality," Adam continued with an affectionately teasing smirk. "They make it sound like they -- overpowered you, or something, and that's not what happened at all. Besides, you had it under control. All I did was help out a little."
"All you did was take over and make me look helpless. Again."
Adam went very still, frowning, his lips parted in surprise. "Kris, I... I wasn't trying to..."
"You don't have to try, Adam," Kris pointed out, rising from his seat and pointedly shrugging out from under Adam's hand. "It just sort of happens, doesn't it? Every time."
Adam shook his head in confusion, utterly at a loss. "Kris..."
But Kris didn't wait to hear his explanation. He picked up the magazine and tossed it forcefully into the trash basket on his way up the stairs, leaving Adam stunned, dumbfounded, and staring after him. In their bedroom, Kris slammed the door angrily as he stormed across the room to the dresser, opening his underwear drawer with far more force than was necessary.
He took the box from the back, tearing it open and staring for a moment at the shiny glass bottle inside. He hesitated a moment, drawing in a deep breath as he scanned the back of the container without really reading it. Finally, he let the breath he'd been holding out in a rush and twisted the bottle open, taking out two of the narrow red capsules it contained.
He went to the bathroom sink and took one of the small disposable cups from the counter, filling it with water to wash them down before glaring at himself in the mirror. After a moment's final indecision, he downed the pills and the water quickly, before he could change his mind.
If it doesn't work, fine. But if it does -- they're gonna see a whole new side to Kris Allen. Won’t be their ‘Pocket Idol’ anymore.
TBC...