"Fall Into The Glitter" for bad_wolves
Author: pennilesspoet17
Recipient: bad_wolves
Title: Fall Into The Glitter
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,667
Summary: HS/College AU. Based on this prompt: Best friends Kris and Adam grew up together. Explore Kris’ feelings during Adam’s transformation from chubby freckled redhead to gorgeous club god as they both transition from high school to college life.
Author’s Notes: This may be slightly different than what the prompt was intended to be, but I hope it still works. :)
The shifts in tense are intentional.
One.
Kris remembers vividly the first time he met Adam Lambert.
He was seated in the quad, his back against a tall, leafy oak tree, his sad little brown bag lunch clutched tightly in his hands. He’d been in San Diego for a week, and at this school for two days, and had come to the conclusion that his parents were total jerks for making him change schools in the middle of the seventh grade. (And it’s not like they’d moved across town - no! They’d moved across the whole freaking country!) Kris decided, as he glumly munched on his ham sandwich (extra cheese, no mustard) that he would hate his parents forever for doing this to him.
California was just...so different from Arkansas. The kids talked differently, dressed differently, and they all knew each other, in the way Kris had known everyone in his old school. They’d grown up together, and had a history. Kris felt like a backwoods outcast at his new school.
“What are you doing?”
Kris blinked and craned his neck up, squinting slightly as the bright California sun glared down at him. (The boy standing over him didn’t look all that happy to see him either.)
“Um. What?” Kris replied quietly. The boy was bigger than him - taller, for sure, and husky. His red-blonde hair flopped into his freckled face, and his puffy lips were curved into an irritated frown.
“Why are you under my tree?” The kid asked, and arched an eyebrow. Kris swallowed the last bit of his sandwich, as his gaze shifted to the small group of tables across the quad.
“Um...the tables were all full, and I...I didn’t know where to...I didn’t know,” Kris shrugged, and started gathering his things. He really didn’t want to make anyone mad at him, and he definitely didn’t want to get into a fight.
The kid sighed, and plopped down next to Kris, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He laid his backpack between his legs, and jerked it open.
“You must be new,” the kid sighed, and pulled a small black nylon bag from his backpack. He thrust his hand into the bag and pulled out a shiny green apple, and bit down on it loudly.
“Um, yeah, I...it’s my second day?” Kris offered as the kid crunched on his apple loudly.
“Oh. Well, you’ll learn soon enough that you shouldn’t be seen with the likes of me,” the kid laughed, but there was a sort of sadness to it, and it made Kris’s stomach twist.
“Why?” he asked, as he watched the kid swallow a lump of apple.
“Duh. No one likes me? Why do you think I eat all the way over here?” The kid took another angry bite.
“Well, I like you. I mean, you’re the only person who has said more than three words to me since I got here,” Kris shrugged, and studied the crumpled remains of his sad brown bag.
“Where’d you come from, anyway? You have a funny accent.”
“Arkansas,” Kris mumbled, “Go ahead and make fun of me now. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard all the jokes though.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” the kid said softly, and Kris looked up to find wide blue-gray eyes staring down at him, warm and friendly. Those eyes crinkled up when the kid grinned mischievously, “Yet, anyway.”
Kris smiled back, and after a long moment, dropped his bag and shoved his hand forward.
“Kris Allen.”
The kid took Kris’s hand, and shook it firmly.
“Adam Lambert.”
Kris and Adam had been inseparable after that. They’d discovered their mutual love of music, and old movies, and bad mystery novels. Their favorite place to hang out on the weekend had been a sprawling park that was dotted with large trees (Adam needed shade) and overlooked the ocean. Sometimes they would stay there all day, before wandering downtown to watch some old black and white at the rundown movie palace.
As they made their way from Middle School to High School, Kris and Adam found themselves with less time to spend together, doing their favorite things. Kris had baseball and orchestra, Adam had play rehearsals, and his part time job at a small record store not far from school.
Kris had always looked forward to summer break, because it meant he’d get to see Adam more than once or twice a week. But in the summer of Kris’s sophomore year (Adam’s junior year), Adam had left for most of the summer to join a theatre camp near Los Angeles. Adam had talked about it for weeks before school was out, and was so excited and happy, Kris had found it impossible to be mad at him for abandoning him to a summer of stacking books at the local library.
Adam had come back from camp with a sparkle in his eye and a fierce determination in his stride. Kris found Adam’s new demeanor strange and a little intimidating - his friend had always been soft, and open, and happy. Adam had closed off a lot that year, and looking back, Kris realizes that that was the summer that Adam had come to terms with his sexuality. (Years later, Adam would tell Kris about the boy he’d met that summer; tall and golden and fierce and lean. Adam wouldn’t work up the nerve to kiss that boy for another year, though.)
Adam and Kris had drifted apart a little during that school year, until Kris had come down with a severe flu that would keep him out of school for two weeks. High School rumors being what they are, Adam had rushed to Kris’s side when word got around that Kris was dying, and just like that, the walls that had been erected between them were broken down. (When he’d learned that Kris was, in fact, not dying, Adam accused Kris of “Ferris Bueller-ing” him, and playfully called Kris “Ferris” for the rest of the year.)
Adam had once again gone off to theatre camp in the summer of his senior year (Kris’s junior year), but this time, when he’d returned, he was more confident than he’d ever been. As the school year began, rumors of Adam’s sexuality had come to a head, and Kris watched as Adam put on a brave front every day, just to walk through the front doors. Kris wished sometimes, that he could be more like that. Could be that brave and sure.
~~~
Adam sang at his high school graduation.
Shoulders back, head held high, shaggy blond hair dancing in the early summer breeze, Adam had shown his classmates a small glimpse of the man, the star, he would become. Kris had always been in awe of Adam’s vocal talents, and had no doubt that Adam would be a Broadway star someday.
It would be there last summer together before Adam moved to LA to go to college; Kris had been determined to make sure Adam always remembered his best friend. They’d spend that summer doing many of the things they’d done as younger kids; lazy days in their favorite park, nights watching DVD’s of black and white films (the old movie house had long since shut down). Sometimes Adam would sing as Kris played his shiny new acoustic guitar - a birthday gift from his parents. (Later, much, much, later, Kris would write a devastatingly sad song on that same guitar; a song that no one but Adam would ever hear.) By the time Adam had packed up his beat up Honda and driven away, Kris had forced a promise from Adam (”Swear to me Adam, promise that we’ll always be best friends, no matter what.”) - a promise that would prove to be so hard to keep.
For Kris, it had never been a question; he would follow Adam to LA the very second he’d graduated. But it hadn’t quite happened like he’d planned. His folks had made him work one more summer in San Diego; he’d thank them later when he was on his own and had pocket money to spare, they’d said. He wouldn’t be able to move into the dorms until September anyway.
When September had finally (Finally!) come around, Kris and his folks had driven up to Los Angeles, and moved Kris into his new home.
~~~
Two.
The first time Kris sees Adam again, he doesn’t recognize him.
Kris was busy unpacking boxes when someone knocked on the door. He turned, expecting to see his new roommate, and had to blink a few times to focus.
Adam seemed taller. He’d slimmed down a bit, and his hair’s a few shades darker, and was cut much shorter. There were thick black smudges around his eyes, and earrings in his ears. His clothes were darker, and tighter, and Kris swallowed hard and tightened his jaw so it wouldn’t drop to the floor.
“Ferris! You’re here!” Adam squealed, as he pulled Kris into a large, tight hug. Kris laughed then, and hugged Adam back because, more than anything else, he’d missed these hugs.
“I can’t wait for you to meet everyone! There’s a party tonight, actually. You have to come!”
“Well, if I have to,” Kris chuckled as he pulled away. He gazed up at Adam softly. “You look so...different,” he muttered.
“Oh! Yeah,” Adam ran his fingers through his hair nervously, “I’m just trying stuff out. Everyone is so cool here, ya know? And I can just wear whatever I want, and no one says anything,” Adam grins widely.
“I’m glad you’re so happy here,” Kris smiles in return.
Adam had left school the following semester. He’d gotten the lead in a musical, and decided that school was just getting in the way. Kris had put on a happy front, but he’d been devastated. He’d just arrived, and Adam was leaving!
It had been nearly impossible to keep up with Adam’s crazy schedule after that. Kris had lost countless hours of sleep, following Adam to dark nightclubs in the middle of the week, with early classes weighing him down every day. By the end of his Freshman year, he’d been exhausted, and very close to flunking out.
Kris had a decision to make. If he wanted to stay in school, he had to stop hanging out with Adam so much. The truth was, he’d never really gotten used to Adam’s new scene. The clubs were dark, and loud, and full of colorful, glittery people, on all kinds of drugs. He’d felt so uncomfortable, watching Adam and his friends doing things he wasn’t really sure he’d ever have the nerve to do himself.
But it was Adam. On those rare nights when they didn’t go to the clubs, when it was just him and Adam, Kris had been so happy. So content. They’d stay up all night, singing, or watching old movies, or just talking. Those were his best memories from his Freshman year.
Kris had decided that the best thing for him to do, was to spend his summer working in San Diego. The distance would give him perspective, would help him focus, and he’d know what to do when he came back to LA.
That was the summer Adam met Brad.
Brad was fiery and passionate and beautiful and sparkly, and Adam had fallen for him so hard, so quickly. The affair had burned like a supernova, hard and hot and big, and when it finally imploded, over a year later, it had left Adam in ruins.
But while they’d been together, Brad had brought out a fierceness in Adam - a spark that lit him from within. Adam had transformed into a glittery, stunning creature that year. Brad had encouraged Adam’s obsession with make up and costumes, had encouraged Adam to try out for underground singing gigs, had given him the confidence to be everything that he’d been dying to be.
Kris had watched the last vestiges of the chubby redhead he’d first met all those years ago melt away, and had forced himself to be nothing but happy about it all.
~~~
Three.
Kris looks down at the ticket in his hand, and turns it over once, twice. He’d debated about coming tonight; he hadn’t seen much of Adam in the past year, and hadn’t even talked to him for over a month. But Adam had sent the ticket to him last week, with a short note that had simply read Hope to see you there! :) and how could he resist that? He sighs. He could never really resist Adam.
He’s wearing what he hopes will pass for an acceptable outfit tonight; black skinny jeans and a black t shirt. (Kris figures you can never really go wrong with black, anyway.) As soon as he walks into to the theatre, he can see that he is still remarkably underdressed; how do people own so many feathers?
He weaves his way through the leather/feather/spike/lace-covered crowd, in an attempt to get as close to the stage as he can. It’s crowded, and warm, and it reminds Kris of all of those awful clubs he used to follow Adam to in his Freshman year.
He’d been such an idiot back then. But then, he’d never been in love before - how was he supposed to know what it was like?
He settles into his place near the stage, and takes a moment to look around. It’s an older theatre, but the space is nice, and Kris can’t help but feel a surge of pride well up in his chest. This is Adam’s dream. He’s living it.
The house lights dim, and the curtain rises, and Kris watches in awe as a towering, beautiful creature emerges. Decked out in impossibly tight gold pants and little else, his eyes dark and dramatic, feathers dangling from his hair, Adam looks stunning. Otherworldly. And then he sings. And it’s nothing like the school plays, or the performance the day he graduated, or the way he sang in all those plays after he dropped out of school. Adam thrusts and slithers and slinks and glides, and never misses a note; never misses a beat. His voice is clear and loud and fantastical, and it makes Kris feel giddy and high. He’s never heard A Change Is Gonna Come performed like this. He’s sure he never will again.
He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until it’s all over, and he allows himself to breathe again.
~~~
Two hours later, Kris is curled into the corner of a small bar, nursing his second beer, and wondering if he’ll have a chance to see Adam tonight. Adam had texted him yesterday, told him that there would be a post-show party here tonight, and Kris had stupidly thought that meant he’d get to see his friend.
Were they still friends? Kris wonders if Adam can be friends with mere mortals like him anymore.
“Kris? Jesus, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Kris looks up to see Adam standing over him, looking cross. He’s washed off his make up, and changed into a dark t shirt and jeans, and Kris can see the freckles that cover his face - the freckles Adam has worked so hard to keep all covered up for so long. He feels his heart trip, as his mind flashes back to the first time he’d ever seen Adam standing over him, looking annoyed. He smiles.
“Adam,” is all he’s able to say, and Adam laughs and pulls him into a tight embrace.
“You remember,” Adam jokes, but his tone seems darker than perhaps he intended it to be.
Kris pulls away, and looks up at Adam, “I could never forget.”
Adam nods, then silently takes Kris’s hand, and leads him out of the bar. They walk down the crowded sidewalk, weaving around drunk people until they come upon a long, two story apartment building. Adam drops Kris’s hand then, and looks down at him hesitantly.
“Easier to talk here, right?”
“Yeah,” Kris nods, and lets Adam lead him upstairs.
~~~
Adam’s apartment is every bit as colorful and outrageous as Adam himself; purple walls, zebra print comforter on the bed, and loud, colorful curtains catch Kris’s eye as he moves through the space, before taking a seat on Adam’s horribly uncomfortable futon. Half melted candles, empty bottles, and pot paraphernalia covers most of the coffee table, and a bright green blanket covers the back of the futon. It’s very...Adam.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Adam smiles as he plops down next to Kris. He hands Kris a bottle of beer, then takes a long pull from his own.
“I guess...it’s been a while. It’s been kinda crazy, with finals and all,” Kris shrugs, and sips at his own beer.
“Right. God, you’re still in school. When do you graduate?”
“Next week.”
“Next week?” Adam’s eyes bug out, “why didn’t you tell me!?”
“I...I sent you and invitation. Um. A while ago. You never replied, so...”
“Oh. Oh man,” Adam turns to look at his kitchen table, and Kris can see a messy pile of envelopes, magazines and flyers, “It’s probably over there, somewhere. God, I’m the worst friend ever!”
“No, you’re just...you’re busy, and you’re...you know, all glittery and awesome and stuff, and I’m just-”
The look that Adam gives Kris makes the rest of his sentence die on his tongue. Adam looks horribly offended, like Kris said something about his mother. Kris tenses. And waits.
“You’re just what? Just my very best friend since middle school.”
“I-”
“I mean, I know things have been crazy and stuff, but I totally hate it when I don’t get to see you, or talk to you, or whatever! I know I’ve been-”
“We both stopped trying,” Kris interrupts, “I thought it would be better, if I just...I dunno. You don’t really need me to-”
“I’ll always need you, Kris. I’ll always love you. All this shit,” Adam waves his arm around the room, “it’s just an illusion. You’re the only person who knows the real me.”
“That’s. That can’t be true. I-”
“It is. Look, I have a lot of really, really good friends, Kris. But you’re my best friend. Forever. Remember?”
Kris smiles. “Okay, yeah, BFF,” he looks down, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but...well. I...I think the reason it was so hard for me to be around you was-”
“The makeup? The glitter? The crazy friends? Brad?” Adam smiles, but Kris can see that Adam is hurt. He thinks Kris thinks he’s some kind of freak, and Kris hates that.
“No. Nothing like that. I...I was so in love with you, and you were so...out of my league. I...I followed you here to LA, hoping to find myself, hoping to become...I don’t even know. I watched how much you changed, and I just wished,” Kris shakes his head, and looks at his lap.
“What?” Adam whispers, and Kris looks at him. His eyes are focused and clear, and he’s looking at Kris with such intensity. “What did you wish?”
“I...I wished that I could have changed with you. Or just...become something better.”
“You don’t think you’ve changed since high school? Kris. God, you really have no idea, do you?”
“What?”
“You’re...gorgeous,” Adam smiles softly, and runs a shaky thumb down Kris’s cheek, “Beautiful,” he whispers.
The kiss is soft, and slow and almost chaste. Back when Kris had followed Adam into those dark clubs, he’d sometimes find him making out with a boy, find Adam attacking the boy’s mouth with reckless abandon. In his fantasies, he’d sometimes imagined that their first kiss, if it ever happened, would be like that.
Adam slides his hand behind Kris’s neck, and deepens the kiss, but it’s still so careful, so soft, and Kris has no choice but to melt into it.
When they pull away, several minutes later, Kris curls himself against Adam’s side, and sighs.
“I always thought, if you ever kissed me, it’d be like...like crazy and rough. Like the way you kiss those boys in the clubs,” Kris cranes his neck up to look at Adam, “It was so much better though.”
“You mean a lot more to me than a quick fuck in a club, Kris. If we do this...if we fall into this - it’s for good, okay? I love you.”
“Okay.”
~~~
”I think we should be best friends.”
Kris looked up from his lunch, to find Adam smiling at him. Behind him, a golden leaf from the oak tree flutters to the ground.
“Okay,” Kris shrugged, and took a bite from his ham sandwich (extra cheese, no mustard).
“I mean it. Best friends. Forever. No matter what.”
“Sure,” Kris replied through the food in his mouth.
Adam nodded, and started peeling his orange.
Recipient: bad_wolves
Title: Fall Into The Glitter
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,667
Summary: HS/College AU. Based on this prompt: Best friends Kris and Adam grew up together. Explore Kris’ feelings during Adam’s transformation from chubby freckled redhead to gorgeous club god as they both transition from high school to college life.
Author’s Notes: This may be slightly different than what the prompt was intended to be, but I hope it still works. :)
The shifts in tense are intentional.
One.
Kris remembers vividly the first time he met Adam Lambert.
He was seated in the quad, his back against a tall, leafy oak tree, his sad little brown bag lunch clutched tightly in his hands. He’d been in San Diego for a week, and at this school for two days, and had come to the conclusion that his parents were total jerks for making him change schools in the middle of the seventh grade. (And it’s not like they’d moved across town - no! They’d moved across the whole freaking country!) Kris decided, as he glumly munched on his ham sandwich (extra cheese, no mustard) that he would hate his parents forever for doing this to him.
California was just...so different from Arkansas. The kids talked differently, dressed differently, and they all knew each other, in the way Kris had known everyone in his old school. They’d grown up together, and had a history. Kris felt like a backwoods outcast at his new school.
“What are you doing?”
Kris blinked and craned his neck up, squinting slightly as the bright California sun glared down at him. (The boy standing over him didn’t look all that happy to see him either.)
“Um. What?” Kris replied quietly. The boy was bigger than him - taller, for sure, and husky. His red-blonde hair flopped into his freckled face, and his puffy lips were curved into an irritated frown.
“Why are you under my tree?” The kid asked, and arched an eyebrow. Kris swallowed the last bit of his sandwich, as his gaze shifted to the small group of tables across the quad.
“Um...the tables were all full, and I...I didn’t know where to...I didn’t know,” Kris shrugged, and started gathering his things. He really didn’t want to make anyone mad at him, and he definitely didn’t want to get into a fight.
The kid sighed, and plopped down next to Kris, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He laid his backpack between his legs, and jerked it open.
“You must be new,” the kid sighed, and pulled a small black nylon bag from his backpack. He thrust his hand into the bag and pulled out a shiny green apple, and bit down on it loudly.
“Um, yeah, I...it’s my second day?” Kris offered as the kid crunched on his apple loudly.
“Oh. Well, you’ll learn soon enough that you shouldn’t be seen with the likes of me,” the kid laughed, but there was a sort of sadness to it, and it made Kris’s stomach twist.
“Why?” he asked, as he watched the kid swallow a lump of apple.
“Duh. No one likes me? Why do you think I eat all the way over here?” The kid took another angry bite.
“Well, I like you. I mean, you’re the only person who has said more than three words to me since I got here,” Kris shrugged, and studied the crumpled remains of his sad brown bag.
“Where’d you come from, anyway? You have a funny accent.”
“Arkansas,” Kris mumbled, “Go ahead and make fun of me now. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard all the jokes though.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” the kid said softly, and Kris looked up to find wide blue-gray eyes staring down at him, warm and friendly. Those eyes crinkled up when the kid grinned mischievously, “Yet, anyway.”
Kris smiled back, and after a long moment, dropped his bag and shoved his hand forward.
“Kris Allen.”
The kid took Kris’s hand, and shook it firmly.
“Adam Lambert.”
Kris and Adam had been inseparable after that. They’d discovered their mutual love of music, and old movies, and bad mystery novels. Their favorite place to hang out on the weekend had been a sprawling park that was dotted with large trees (Adam needed shade) and overlooked the ocean. Sometimes they would stay there all day, before wandering downtown to watch some old black and white at the rundown movie palace.
As they made their way from Middle School to High School, Kris and Adam found themselves with less time to spend together, doing their favorite things. Kris had baseball and orchestra, Adam had play rehearsals, and his part time job at a small record store not far from school.
Kris had always looked forward to summer break, because it meant he’d get to see Adam more than once or twice a week. But in the summer of Kris’s sophomore year (Adam’s junior year), Adam had left for most of the summer to join a theatre camp near Los Angeles. Adam had talked about it for weeks before school was out, and was so excited and happy, Kris had found it impossible to be mad at him for abandoning him to a summer of stacking books at the local library.
Adam had come back from camp with a sparkle in his eye and a fierce determination in his stride. Kris found Adam’s new demeanor strange and a little intimidating - his friend had always been soft, and open, and happy. Adam had closed off a lot that year, and looking back, Kris realizes that that was the summer that Adam had come to terms with his sexuality. (Years later, Adam would tell Kris about the boy he’d met that summer; tall and golden and fierce and lean. Adam wouldn’t work up the nerve to kiss that boy for another year, though.)
Adam and Kris had drifted apart a little during that school year, until Kris had come down with a severe flu that would keep him out of school for two weeks. High School rumors being what they are, Adam had rushed to Kris’s side when word got around that Kris was dying, and just like that, the walls that had been erected between them were broken down. (When he’d learned that Kris was, in fact, not dying, Adam accused Kris of “Ferris Bueller-ing” him, and playfully called Kris “Ferris” for the rest of the year.)
Adam had once again gone off to theatre camp in the summer of his senior year (Kris’s junior year), but this time, when he’d returned, he was more confident than he’d ever been. As the school year began, rumors of Adam’s sexuality had come to a head, and Kris watched as Adam put on a brave front every day, just to walk through the front doors. Kris wished sometimes, that he could be more like that. Could be that brave and sure.
~~~
Adam sang at his high school graduation.
Shoulders back, head held high, shaggy blond hair dancing in the early summer breeze, Adam had shown his classmates a small glimpse of the man, the star, he would become. Kris had always been in awe of Adam’s vocal talents, and had no doubt that Adam would be a Broadway star someday.
It would be there last summer together before Adam moved to LA to go to college; Kris had been determined to make sure Adam always remembered his best friend. They’d spend that summer doing many of the things they’d done as younger kids; lazy days in their favorite park, nights watching DVD’s of black and white films (the old movie house had long since shut down). Sometimes Adam would sing as Kris played his shiny new acoustic guitar - a birthday gift from his parents. (Later, much, much, later, Kris would write a devastatingly sad song on that same guitar; a song that no one but Adam would ever hear.) By the time Adam had packed up his beat up Honda and driven away, Kris had forced a promise from Adam (”Swear to me Adam, promise that we’ll always be best friends, no matter what.”) - a promise that would prove to be so hard to keep.
For Kris, it had never been a question; he would follow Adam to LA the very second he’d graduated. But it hadn’t quite happened like he’d planned. His folks had made him work one more summer in San Diego; he’d thank them later when he was on his own and had pocket money to spare, they’d said. He wouldn’t be able to move into the dorms until September anyway.
When September had finally (Finally!) come around, Kris and his folks had driven up to Los Angeles, and moved Kris into his new home.
~~~
Two.
The first time Kris sees Adam again, he doesn’t recognize him.
Kris was busy unpacking boxes when someone knocked on the door. He turned, expecting to see his new roommate, and had to blink a few times to focus.
Adam seemed taller. He’d slimmed down a bit, and his hair’s a few shades darker, and was cut much shorter. There were thick black smudges around his eyes, and earrings in his ears. His clothes were darker, and tighter, and Kris swallowed hard and tightened his jaw so it wouldn’t drop to the floor.
“Ferris! You’re here!” Adam squealed, as he pulled Kris into a large, tight hug. Kris laughed then, and hugged Adam back because, more than anything else, he’d missed these hugs.
“I can’t wait for you to meet everyone! There’s a party tonight, actually. You have to come!”
“Well, if I have to,” Kris chuckled as he pulled away. He gazed up at Adam softly. “You look so...different,” he muttered.
“Oh! Yeah,” Adam ran his fingers through his hair nervously, “I’m just trying stuff out. Everyone is so cool here, ya know? And I can just wear whatever I want, and no one says anything,” Adam grins widely.
“I’m glad you’re so happy here,” Kris smiles in return.
Adam had left school the following semester. He’d gotten the lead in a musical, and decided that school was just getting in the way. Kris had put on a happy front, but he’d been devastated. He’d just arrived, and Adam was leaving!
It had been nearly impossible to keep up with Adam’s crazy schedule after that. Kris had lost countless hours of sleep, following Adam to dark nightclubs in the middle of the week, with early classes weighing him down every day. By the end of his Freshman year, he’d been exhausted, and very close to flunking out.
Kris had a decision to make. If he wanted to stay in school, he had to stop hanging out with Adam so much. The truth was, he’d never really gotten used to Adam’s new scene. The clubs were dark, and loud, and full of colorful, glittery people, on all kinds of drugs. He’d felt so uncomfortable, watching Adam and his friends doing things he wasn’t really sure he’d ever have the nerve to do himself.
But it was Adam. On those rare nights when they didn’t go to the clubs, when it was just him and Adam, Kris had been so happy. So content. They’d stay up all night, singing, or watching old movies, or just talking. Those were his best memories from his Freshman year.
Kris had decided that the best thing for him to do, was to spend his summer working in San Diego. The distance would give him perspective, would help him focus, and he’d know what to do when he came back to LA.
That was the summer Adam met Brad.
Brad was fiery and passionate and beautiful and sparkly, and Adam had fallen for him so hard, so quickly. The affair had burned like a supernova, hard and hot and big, and when it finally imploded, over a year later, it had left Adam in ruins.
But while they’d been together, Brad had brought out a fierceness in Adam - a spark that lit him from within. Adam had transformed into a glittery, stunning creature that year. Brad had encouraged Adam’s obsession with make up and costumes, had encouraged Adam to try out for underground singing gigs, had given him the confidence to be everything that he’d been dying to be.
Kris had watched the last vestiges of the chubby redhead he’d first met all those years ago melt away, and had forced himself to be nothing but happy about it all.
~~~
Three.
Kris looks down at the ticket in his hand, and turns it over once, twice. He’d debated about coming tonight; he hadn’t seen much of Adam in the past year, and hadn’t even talked to him for over a month. But Adam had sent the ticket to him last week, with a short note that had simply read Hope to see you there! :) and how could he resist that? He sighs. He could never really resist Adam.
He’s wearing what he hopes will pass for an acceptable outfit tonight; black skinny jeans and a black t shirt. (Kris figures you can never really go wrong with black, anyway.) As soon as he walks into to the theatre, he can see that he is still remarkably underdressed; how do people own so many feathers?
He weaves his way through the leather/feather/spike/lace-covered crowd, in an attempt to get as close to the stage as he can. It’s crowded, and warm, and it reminds Kris of all of those awful clubs he used to follow Adam to in his Freshman year.
He’d been such an idiot back then. But then, he’d never been in love before - how was he supposed to know what it was like?
He settles into his place near the stage, and takes a moment to look around. It’s an older theatre, but the space is nice, and Kris can’t help but feel a surge of pride well up in his chest. This is Adam’s dream. He’s living it.
The house lights dim, and the curtain rises, and Kris watches in awe as a towering, beautiful creature emerges. Decked out in impossibly tight gold pants and little else, his eyes dark and dramatic, feathers dangling from his hair, Adam looks stunning. Otherworldly. And then he sings. And it’s nothing like the school plays, or the performance the day he graduated, or the way he sang in all those plays after he dropped out of school. Adam thrusts and slithers and slinks and glides, and never misses a note; never misses a beat. His voice is clear and loud and fantastical, and it makes Kris feel giddy and high. He’s never heard A Change Is Gonna Come performed like this. He’s sure he never will again.
He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until it’s all over, and he allows himself to breathe again.
~~~
Two hours later, Kris is curled into the corner of a small bar, nursing his second beer, and wondering if he’ll have a chance to see Adam tonight. Adam had texted him yesterday, told him that there would be a post-show party here tonight, and Kris had stupidly thought that meant he’d get to see his friend.
Were they still friends? Kris wonders if Adam can be friends with mere mortals like him anymore.
“Kris? Jesus, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Kris looks up to see Adam standing over him, looking cross. He’s washed off his make up, and changed into a dark t shirt and jeans, and Kris can see the freckles that cover his face - the freckles Adam has worked so hard to keep all covered up for so long. He feels his heart trip, as his mind flashes back to the first time he’d ever seen Adam standing over him, looking annoyed. He smiles.
“Adam,” is all he’s able to say, and Adam laughs and pulls him into a tight embrace.
“You remember,” Adam jokes, but his tone seems darker than perhaps he intended it to be.
Kris pulls away, and looks up at Adam, “I could never forget.”
Adam nods, then silently takes Kris’s hand, and leads him out of the bar. They walk down the crowded sidewalk, weaving around drunk people until they come upon a long, two story apartment building. Adam drops Kris’s hand then, and looks down at him hesitantly.
“Easier to talk here, right?”
“Yeah,” Kris nods, and lets Adam lead him upstairs.
~~~
Adam’s apartment is every bit as colorful and outrageous as Adam himself; purple walls, zebra print comforter on the bed, and loud, colorful curtains catch Kris’s eye as he moves through the space, before taking a seat on Adam’s horribly uncomfortable futon. Half melted candles, empty bottles, and pot paraphernalia covers most of the coffee table, and a bright green blanket covers the back of the futon. It’s very...Adam.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Adam smiles as he plops down next to Kris. He hands Kris a bottle of beer, then takes a long pull from his own.
“I guess...it’s been a while. It’s been kinda crazy, with finals and all,” Kris shrugs, and sips at his own beer.
“Right. God, you’re still in school. When do you graduate?”
“Next week.”
“Next week?” Adam’s eyes bug out, “why didn’t you tell me!?”
“I...I sent you and invitation. Um. A while ago. You never replied, so...”
“Oh. Oh man,” Adam turns to look at his kitchen table, and Kris can see a messy pile of envelopes, magazines and flyers, “It’s probably over there, somewhere. God, I’m the worst friend ever!”
“No, you’re just...you’re busy, and you’re...you know, all glittery and awesome and stuff, and I’m just-”
The look that Adam gives Kris makes the rest of his sentence die on his tongue. Adam looks horribly offended, like Kris said something about his mother. Kris tenses. And waits.
“You’re just what? Just my very best friend since middle school.”
“I-”
“I mean, I know things have been crazy and stuff, but I totally hate it when I don’t get to see you, or talk to you, or whatever! I know I’ve been-”
“We both stopped trying,” Kris interrupts, “I thought it would be better, if I just...I dunno. You don’t really need me to-”
“I’ll always need you, Kris. I’ll always love you. All this shit,” Adam waves his arm around the room, “it’s just an illusion. You’re the only person who knows the real me.”
“That’s. That can’t be true. I-”
“It is. Look, I have a lot of really, really good friends, Kris. But you’re my best friend. Forever. Remember?”
Kris smiles. “Okay, yeah, BFF,” he looks down, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but...well. I...I think the reason it was so hard for me to be around you was-”
“The makeup? The glitter? The crazy friends? Brad?” Adam smiles, but Kris can see that Adam is hurt. He thinks Kris thinks he’s some kind of freak, and Kris hates that.
“No. Nothing like that. I...I was so in love with you, and you were so...out of my league. I...I followed you here to LA, hoping to find myself, hoping to become...I don’t even know. I watched how much you changed, and I just wished,” Kris shakes his head, and looks at his lap.
“What?” Adam whispers, and Kris looks at him. His eyes are focused and clear, and he’s looking at Kris with such intensity. “What did you wish?”
“I...I wished that I could have changed with you. Or just...become something better.”
“You don’t think you’ve changed since high school? Kris. God, you really have no idea, do you?”
“What?”
“You’re...gorgeous,” Adam smiles softly, and runs a shaky thumb down Kris’s cheek, “Beautiful,” he whispers.
The kiss is soft, and slow and almost chaste. Back when Kris had followed Adam into those dark clubs, he’d sometimes find him making out with a boy, find Adam attacking the boy’s mouth with reckless abandon. In his fantasies, he’d sometimes imagined that their first kiss, if it ever happened, would be like that.
Adam slides his hand behind Kris’s neck, and deepens the kiss, but it’s still so careful, so soft, and Kris has no choice but to melt into it.
When they pull away, several minutes later, Kris curls himself against Adam’s side, and sighs.
“I always thought, if you ever kissed me, it’d be like...like crazy and rough. Like the way you kiss those boys in the clubs,” Kris cranes his neck up to look at Adam, “It was so much better though.”
“You mean a lot more to me than a quick fuck in a club, Kris. If we do this...if we fall into this - it’s for good, okay? I love you.”
“Okay.”
~~~
”I think we should be best friends.”
Kris looked up from his lunch, to find Adam smiling at him. Behind him, a golden leaf from the oak tree flutters to the ground.
“Okay,” Kris shrugged, and took a bite from his ham sandwich (extra cheese, no mustard).
“I mean it. Best friends. Forever. No matter what.”
“Sure,” Kris replied through the food in his mouth.
Adam nodded, and started peeling his orange.