Now and Forevermore (When Destiny Calls You, You Must Be Strong) - Ch. 2/?
Title: Now and Forevermore (When Destiny Calls You, You Must Be Strong) - Ch. 2/?
Author: sweetbottompark mods
Word Count: ~3000 (~8200 total)
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Warnings: Crack!Fic WIP, awesomeness, minor character death (not Kris/Adam/Alex).
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Disclaimer: This hasn't happened. Yet.
Notes: This story was written to fulfill alight 's prompt, which goes as follows: "SOMEONE PLZ WRITE CRACKFIC ABOUT ALEX LAMBERT BEING THE SEKRIT TIME-TRAVELING KRADAM ASSBABY. PLEASE." Special thanks also to heroinsheikh and Phil Collins for help with the title.
PLEASE READ CHAPTER 1 HERE
Chapter 2
Alex sighed as he packed his bags, deep in thought. According to what Tim had told him earlier, he would be going back to Texas for a few days before returning to Los Angeles to live with Miley Cyrus's ex-boyfriend or something. He wasn't completely clear on the details. And he still had no idea why he was so "special" and all this was happening in the first place. Tim had just finished briefing him on the plan for the next week when he got an urgent phone call and scurried away, saying something about San Diego.
So Alex was alone with his thoughts as he packed, half-heartedly throwing hoodies and jeans into an oversized duffel bag. He kept an eye on his wardrobe as he packed, knowing he had to change and get ready for the weekly goodbye party soon. When his gaze fell upon a black leather jacket towards the back of the closet, he knew he had to wear it. Alex was a pretty casual dresser--t-shirt, jeans, and Converse were his wardrobe staples. But his girlfriend Raylee had spotted the jacket while dragging Alex to help her shop for a prom dress and insisted he try it on. He'd protested, but felt an inexplicable pull to the jacket. When he slid his arms into the sleeves, it was like he was actually being hugged by the leather--it was protecting him somehow. Obviously, he kept this information from his girlfriend, simply saying "Okay, okay, I'll get it." This excited her so much that she completely forgot to try on the shiny blue monstrosity of a dress she was holding, so it was win-win all around.
Alex felt that same inexplicable pull to the jacket tonight. Like the jacket was somehow telling him everything would turn out okay in the end. He grabbed a pair of plaid pants to wear with it. The leather/plaid combo didn't work in theory, but somehow came together to form what he felt was an amazing outfit. As he posed for pictures with Lee and Andrew, Alex knew he looked good. When Lee asked if he could talk to him in private for a minute, Alex assumed it was to ask him where he bought his awesome pants.
"So, I heard you've got some major top-secret stuff going on," Lee mumbled.
"Uh, yeah, I guess," said Alex. It didn't sound like Lee knew any more than Alex did, so Alex wasn't really interested in talking about it.
"Well, I just want you to know . . . I mean, I don't know if what's happening is dangerous or anything, so don't be alarmed, I'm just saying, you know, if you need it . . . " Lee trailed off.
"Spit it out, dude."
"I have a guardian angel," Lee said.
Alex's face went O.o
"So you can borrow her if you want. Or I'll ask her to watch out for you or something. I don't really know how it all works. Star magazine has all the details."
"Uh, thanks man. I appreciate it." Alex didn't really know what else to say, so he just hugged Lee and the two went back to the party, determined not to let the night be ruined by the Tim-shaped cloud over his head.
~~~~~
It was a surprisingly cool day for Southern California, temperatures were in the lower 70s and a light breeze was blowing. Kris was cruising down the 405, no real destination in mind. He had grown tired of hearing Katy practice the same two lines for her audition that afternoon. He didn’t know how hard it was to say “My first pilot was just picked up. Thirteen episodes!” but apparently it took some effort. He had told Cale to make himself useful and practice with her, then said he was going for a drive.
It was the perfect day to ride around with the windows down and music up. After flipping through the folder that held his CDs, he picked an unlabeled disc, curious to see what it was. It turned out to be the demo of that god-awful new version of The Truth the record label had made him record. Wrinkling his nose, he was in the process of inserting Keith Urban’s CD when his phone rang.
“Kriiiiiiis!”
“Oh, hey Andrew. What’s up?”
“Nada,” said Andrew. “I just got this sick new Jacuzzi installed on my deck. Want to come test-drive it?”
“Yeah, def,” replied Kris. “I’m actually like, three exits from your house.”
“Sweet. Can you bring a lighter? Mine just died. See you in a few!”
Kris got off at the exit for Andrew’s place, glad that he had happened to call. Hanging out with Andrew usually involved a joint or two (not as much as hanging out with Torres) and listening to whatever new vinyl he had picked up recently. Plus the Jacuzzi might be able to relieve his shoulders of some of the stress that had been a constant since his near-kiss with Adam the other day.
When he knocked on Andrew’s door, there was no answer so he pushed the door open, letting himself in. A quick glance out of the kitchen window showed Andrew already in the Jacuzzi, headphones in, aviators on, hair perfectly coifed as always.
Seeing Kris, Andrew pulled out his headphones and motioned him out to the deck.
“What’s up, man? Thanks for coming out, I couldn’t break this thing in by myself.”
“Yeah, no problem, it’s an excuse to get out of the hou-I mean, I wasn’t really doing anything anyway. I, uh, didn’t bring a bathing suit though.”
“Oh, you can borrow one of mine if you want. There are a few in the dresser in the guest bedroom."
Kris pulled his clothes off slowly, making sure to dig his phone out of his pants pocket and turn it off, then tossed it on top of the small heap of clothing he'd created on the floor. He dug through Andrew's collection of speedos until he found something a little less revealing, pulling it on quickly. Then he headed back outside, grabbing his lighter and two bottles of water from the fridge on his way. He eased himself into the warm Jacuzzi, relishing the feel of the jets on his lower back.
“Dude, this is so awesome,” he said, sighing and leaning his head back to rest on the ledge.
“I know, right?” said Andrew.
Kris opened his eyes to see Andrew reaching over him to get to the joint in the ashtray on the ledge. It was then that he noticed-
“Um . . . am I the only one wearing a bathing suit in this Jacuzzi?” asked Kris.
Andrew burst out laughing, then said, “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice.”
“Dude, I’m having severe tour flashbacks right now.”
Still chuckling, Andrew lit the joint and inhaled.
“So what’s been up, man? I haven’t seen you in a few weeks,” he said, passing the joint to Kris.
Kris took a few hits and told him about the insanity of the past few days-Tommy dying and having an illegitimate child (to which Andrew responded, “Seriously? I will never understand how a guy with such ugly hair got so many people to sleep with him”), how Cale was spending a few days with them (again), and Adam borrowing Torres due to his sudden need for a bass player.
“Wait, Adam is down in San Diego rehearsing with Torres as we speak?” clarified Andrew. "I've been trying to call him all night, but he isn't picking up."
“Yep, in that rehearsal space we use when I need to esc-I mean, when the studio at Jive is booked,” Kris answered. The combination of the pot and the warm water was making him feel particularly floaty.
“Hold up, hold up. Does this mean….he’s meeting Demise_O?” asked Andrew with an air of reverence.
Kris laughed and said, “I don’t know, probably. What is with your obsession with that dude?”
“I think it’s because we both have such amazing hair,” Andrew replied seriously. “It’s also why me and Torres get along so well, probably. Serious business.”
“Um…okay.”
All was quiet for the next few minutes until Andrew suddenly began cracking up.
“Dude, remember when….that guy Jim…tried to get you to smoke with him…like he thought you would seriously….smoke with a member of…the press?” Andrew choked out, laughing so hard he had to pause to breathe every few seconds.
Kris was silent for a second, remembering that weekend in New York-the constant press and interviews, how Adam had slipped a cube in his bag, whispering “for later,” then snuck into Kris’s room that night to smoke, order room service, and watch infomercials... how they had moved closer and closer together, close enough to share a pillow, eventually not even bothering to pass the joint back and forth. Instead, Adam had inhaled, softly pressed their mouths together, and passed the smoke to Kris.
Sighing, Kris lost himself to the memory until Andrew’s loud guffaw brought him back to the present.
~~~~
Adam couldn't believe he was being held hostage in his own fucking car. He drove quickly on the freeway, hands tight on the wheel, while Tim Urban sat next to him in the passenger seat, chattering along with a goofy grin on his face and a gun trained squarely at Adam's side. Adam had gotten countless speeding tickets before, back when he could barely afford to pay them, and now, now when he was going 15 miles over the speed limit and needed someone to fucking save his life, there was not a cop in sight. Figures.
"Take the next exit, please!" Tim said cheerfully.
Adam pulled over into the right-hand lane, trying to figure out where they were going. He had expected Tim to make him drive out into the middle of nowhere, but instead they had headed back to LA and now Tim had directed him to get off on Santa Monica Blvd.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Adam asked.
"Uh, do you know where the 19 Entertainment offices are?"
"Yeah, of course," Adam replied.
"Oh, great. I should have just asked you earlier. Well, that's where we're going."
"Oh... uh, okay." Adam paused for a second, trying to figure out what this could mean. He still had no idea what the Idol contestant could want from him, unless he was planning to kill him and leave him on the front steps of 19 Entertainment as some kind of insane retaliation for all the negative comments he'd been getting this season. Adam had watched enough of the show to know that Tim was widely considered a joke, but nothing justified what was happening now. Perhaps Adam was over-estimating this guy, maybe he was so crazy he hadn't thought this kidnapping all the way through, and Adam would get out of this alright. He'd been to dozens of meetings at 19, many of them running late into the night. It was almost midnight by now, but Adam would bet big money that the building still hadn't cleared out -- which was good, he thought, as it looked like he'd be gambling his life on it. He took a deep breath, trying to reassure himself, and navigated the city streets quickly to get to his destination.
Adam pulled into the parking lot, noting with relief that the lot wasn't empty and half a dozen lights still appeared to be on in the building. He glanced over at Tim, who didn't seem phased by this in the slightest.
"Hey, we made good time! Alright, let's go in." Tim announced.
Tim let Adam follow him into the building, apparently no longer concerned that he might be a flight risk. Tim locked the front door behind them, then they took the elevator to the top floor in silence and walked past the leather couches in the lobby. Even the sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing was audible in the quiet silence of the building. Adam's mind was flooded with memories, it was just weeks ago that he'd run into Kris in this very spot. He could still feel the weight of Kris' body as it has slammed into him from behind, arms wrapping around him and warm breath tickling his ear as Kris had giggled "surprise!" into his ear and tackled him onto the couch. Now the room felt cold and clinical and lonely. Tim tugged his arm forward, pulling him toward what he immediately recognized as Simon Fuller's office.
"Adam! Good to see you again!" Simon Fuller was standing behind his large desk, eyes bright, and arm extended out towards Adam. Adam looked him directly in the eyes as he took his hand, stumbling back into the seat Tim was pushing towards him. Adam had always liked Simon Fuller. This made him more confused than ever.
"I'm sure you're confused about what's going on here Adam, and we may have over-stepped our bounds a little bit, but you have to understand, we're only trying to help."
Adam stayed silent, waiting for any kind of indication that he should trust anyone in the room for more than a second. Simon seemed to finally grasp Adam's level of anger and distrust; when he spoke again, his tone was a bit quieter and more soothing.
"Look, uh... we've encountered a situation here that I'm not sure what to do with. I'm going to need your honesty. And I want you both to know that that as long as you're honest with me, I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe and keep this out of the press."
Both? Tim had quietly exited the room, so Adam glanced around to see who Simon was talking to. He was surprised to find a sandy-haired teenager on a couch to his right, looking almost as scared as Adam felt. Adam recognized him immediately as a contestant on this year's show, but he couldn't quite remember the name. Just seeing him put Adam at ease a little bit, he had a nice energy about him. "Alex," he thought to himself. "Alex... Lambert?"
"Look guys," Simon continued. "As I know you're both aware of, we do extensive testing of our contestants' physical and mental well-being before we allow them to the semi-final round of competition. Obviously, you both passed with flying colors at first glance. But our lab found something weird in your bloodwork, and I'm concerned."
Adam's mind started moving a thousand miles a minute. He was incredibly diligent about getting his bloodwork done every six months, and it had come back clean just a few weeks ago. The whole thing had been relatively pointless as he hadn't been with anyone since he broke up with Drake, and even though he knew he needed to move on he just couldn't make himself, everytime he made out with a boy at a club all he could think about was Kris Kris Kris and he just didn't feel right sleeping with someone he had no connection to when he knew by comparison it could never possibly to amount to anything, and now when he went out he had a tendency to get way too drunk and do embarrassing things like lose his phone, and last time it was all over twitter and he was pretty sure bloodwork for STDs tested for other stuff too.... and wait, what? He realized Simon was still talking.
"Now, be honest with me: are you two related?"
Adam paused for a second before breaking out into laughter. This was so surreal. I mean, seriously? Seriously, this is what they'd brought him in to ask him? He glanced over to Alex, who met his eyes and started smiling slowly.
"Uh, Simon, I think you need to pay a little bit less attention to the rumors going around twitter. Of course we're not related." Adam said.
"Well, that's what I thought you'd say," Simon started, choosing his words carefully. "The complication, you see, is that genetically, it appears Alex is your son."
"What?!" Adam replied. "That's insane. I mean, obviously someone just made a mistake."
"Seriously," Alex replied. "I mean, Adam would've been like 10 years old when I was born, that's crazy."
"No, we've run this at least a dozen times using the blood samples we have on file. We're going to take a few more tonight, obviously, and run it again. And I want to make it clear to you both: this is not something we were looking for, but we contract out to a private lab and a few of their technicians are aware of this. We're primarily concerned with making sure the news doesn't get out. Your integrity as artists and your health as individuals are our primary concern. But there's something even more troubling, Adam, then you testing as Alex's father."
"Uh, yeah, something even more ludicrous than Adam being my father? And what could that be?" Alex asked.
Suddenly, Simon looked very nervous.
"Well, look, I wanted to talk to him about this first, see if there's any explanation, uh, but his phone is turned off, he's not at home, and his wife has no idea where he went. So, I don't have any more information that you do about this, but guess I have to be the one to tell you, young man, that, uh... well, it appears that Kris Allen is also your father."
Continue
Author: sweetbottompark mods
Word Count: ~3000 (~8200 total)
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Warnings: Crack!Fic WIP, awesomeness, minor character death (not Kris/Adam/Alex).
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Disclaimer: This hasn't happened. Yet.
Notes: This story was written to fulfill alight 's prompt, which goes as follows: "SOMEONE PLZ WRITE CRACKFIC ABOUT ALEX LAMBERT BEING THE SEKRIT TIME-TRAVELING KRADAM ASSBABY. PLEASE." Special thanks also to heroinsheikh and Phil Collins for help with the title.
PLEASE READ CHAPTER 1 HERE
Chapter 2
Alex sighed as he packed his bags, deep in thought. According to what Tim had told him earlier, he would be going back to Texas for a few days before returning to Los Angeles to live with Miley Cyrus's ex-boyfriend or something. He wasn't completely clear on the details. And he still had no idea why he was so "special" and all this was happening in the first place. Tim had just finished briefing him on the plan for the next week when he got an urgent phone call and scurried away, saying something about San Diego.
So Alex was alone with his thoughts as he packed, half-heartedly throwing hoodies and jeans into an oversized duffel bag. He kept an eye on his wardrobe as he packed, knowing he had to change and get ready for the weekly goodbye party soon. When his gaze fell upon a black leather jacket towards the back of the closet, he knew he had to wear it. Alex was a pretty casual dresser--t-shirt, jeans, and Converse were his wardrobe staples. But his girlfriend Raylee had spotted the jacket while dragging Alex to help her shop for a prom dress and insisted he try it on. He'd protested, but felt an inexplicable pull to the jacket. When he slid his arms into the sleeves, it was like he was actually being hugged by the leather--it was protecting him somehow. Obviously, he kept this information from his girlfriend, simply saying "Okay, okay, I'll get it." This excited her so much that she completely forgot to try on the shiny blue monstrosity of a dress she was holding, so it was win-win all around.
Alex felt that same inexplicable pull to the jacket tonight. Like the jacket was somehow telling him everything would turn out okay in the end. He grabbed a pair of plaid pants to wear with it. The leather/plaid combo didn't work in theory, but somehow came together to form what he felt was an amazing outfit. As he posed for pictures with Lee and Andrew, Alex knew he looked good. When Lee asked if he could talk to him in private for a minute, Alex assumed it was to ask him where he bought his awesome pants.
"So, I heard you've got some major top-secret stuff going on," Lee mumbled.
"Uh, yeah, I guess," said Alex. It didn't sound like Lee knew any more than Alex did, so Alex wasn't really interested in talking about it.
"Well, I just want you to know . . . I mean, I don't know if what's happening is dangerous or anything, so don't be alarmed, I'm just saying, you know, if you need it . . . " Lee trailed off.
"Spit it out, dude."
"I have a guardian angel," Lee said.
Alex's face went O.o
"So you can borrow her if you want. Or I'll ask her to watch out for you or something. I don't really know how it all works. Star magazine has all the details."
"Uh, thanks man. I appreciate it." Alex didn't really know what else to say, so he just hugged Lee and the two went back to the party, determined not to let the night be ruined by the Tim-shaped cloud over his head.
~~~~~
It was a surprisingly cool day for Southern California, temperatures were in the lower 70s and a light breeze was blowing. Kris was cruising down the 405, no real destination in mind. He had grown tired of hearing Katy practice the same two lines for her audition that afternoon. He didn’t know how hard it was to say “My first pilot was just picked up. Thirteen episodes!” but apparently it took some effort. He had told Cale to make himself useful and practice with her, then said he was going for a drive.
It was the perfect day to ride around with the windows down and music up. After flipping through the folder that held his CDs, he picked an unlabeled disc, curious to see what it was. It turned out to be the demo of that god-awful new version of The Truth the record label had made him record. Wrinkling his nose, he was in the process of inserting Keith Urban’s CD when his phone rang.
“Kriiiiiiis!”
“Oh, hey Andrew. What’s up?”
“Nada,” said Andrew. “I just got this sick new Jacuzzi installed on my deck. Want to come test-drive it?”
“Yeah, def,” replied Kris. “I’m actually like, three exits from your house.”
“Sweet. Can you bring a lighter? Mine just died. See you in a few!”
Kris got off at the exit for Andrew’s place, glad that he had happened to call. Hanging out with Andrew usually involved a joint or two (not as much as hanging out with Torres) and listening to whatever new vinyl he had picked up recently. Plus the Jacuzzi might be able to relieve his shoulders of some of the stress that had been a constant since his near-kiss with Adam the other day.
When he knocked on Andrew’s door, there was no answer so he pushed the door open, letting himself in. A quick glance out of the kitchen window showed Andrew already in the Jacuzzi, headphones in, aviators on, hair perfectly coifed as always.
Seeing Kris, Andrew pulled out his headphones and motioned him out to the deck.
“What’s up, man? Thanks for coming out, I couldn’t break this thing in by myself.”
“Yeah, no problem, it’s an excuse to get out of the hou-I mean, I wasn’t really doing anything anyway. I, uh, didn’t bring a bathing suit though.”
“Oh, you can borrow one of mine if you want. There are a few in the dresser in the guest bedroom."
Kris pulled his clothes off slowly, making sure to dig his phone out of his pants pocket and turn it off, then tossed it on top of the small heap of clothing he'd created on the floor. He dug through Andrew's collection of speedos until he found something a little less revealing, pulling it on quickly. Then he headed back outside, grabbing his lighter and two bottles of water from the fridge on his way. He eased himself into the warm Jacuzzi, relishing the feel of the jets on his lower back.
“Dude, this is so awesome,” he said, sighing and leaning his head back to rest on the ledge.
“I know, right?” said Andrew.
Kris opened his eyes to see Andrew reaching over him to get to the joint in the ashtray on the ledge. It was then that he noticed-
“Um . . . am I the only one wearing a bathing suit in this Jacuzzi?” asked Kris.
Andrew burst out laughing, then said, “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice.”
“Dude, I’m having severe tour flashbacks right now.”
Still chuckling, Andrew lit the joint and inhaled.
“So what’s been up, man? I haven’t seen you in a few weeks,” he said, passing the joint to Kris.
Kris took a few hits and told him about the insanity of the past few days-Tommy dying and having an illegitimate child (to which Andrew responded, “Seriously? I will never understand how a guy with such ugly hair got so many people to sleep with him”), how Cale was spending a few days with them (again), and Adam borrowing Torres due to his sudden need for a bass player.
“Wait, Adam is down in San Diego rehearsing with Torres as we speak?” clarified Andrew. "I've been trying to call him all night, but he isn't picking up."
“Yep, in that rehearsal space we use when I need to esc-I mean, when the studio at Jive is booked,” Kris answered. The combination of the pot and the warm water was making him feel particularly floaty.
“Hold up, hold up. Does this mean….he’s meeting Demise_O?” asked Andrew with an air of reverence.
Kris laughed and said, “I don’t know, probably. What is with your obsession with that dude?”
“I think it’s because we both have such amazing hair,” Andrew replied seriously. “It’s also why me and Torres get along so well, probably. Serious business.”
“Um…okay.”
All was quiet for the next few minutes until Andrew suddenly began cracking up.
“Dude, remember when….that guy Jim…tried to get you to smoke with him…like he thought you would seriously….smoke with a member of…the press?” Andrew choked out, laughing so hard he had to pause to breathe every few seconds.
Kris was silent for a second, remembering that weekend in New York-the constant press and interviews, how Adam had slipped a cube in his bag, whispering “for later,” then snuck into Kris’s room that night to smoke, order room service, and watch infomercials... how they had moved closer and closer together, close enough to share a pillow, eventually not even bothering to pass the joint back and forth. Instead, Adam had inhaled, softly pressed their mouths together, and passed the smoke to Kris.
Sighing, Kris lost himself to the memory until Andrew’s loud guffaw brought him back to the present.
~~~~
Adam couldn't believe he was being held hostage in his own fucking car. He drove quickly on the freeway, hands tight on the wheel, while Tim Urban sat next to him in the passenger seat, chattering along with a goofy grin on his face and a gun trained squarely at Adam's side. Adam had gotten countless speeding tickets before, back when he could barely afford to pay them, and now, now when he was going 15 miles over the speed limit and needed someone to fucking save his life, there was not a cop in sight. Figures.
"Take the next exit, please!" Tim said cheerfully.
Adam pulled over into the right-hand lane, trying to figure out where they were going. He had expected Tim to make him drive out into the middle of nowhere, but instead they had headed back to LA and now Tim had directed him to get off on Santa Monica Blvd.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Adam asked.
"Uh, do you know where the 19 Entertainment offices are?"
"Yeah, of course," Adam replied.
"Oh, great. I should have just asked you earlier. Well, that's where we're going."
"Oh... uh, okay." Adam paused for a second, trying to figure out what this could mean. He still had no idea what the Idol contestant could want from him, unless he was planning to kill him and leave him on the front steps of 19 Entertainment as some kind of insane retaliation for all the negative comments he'd been getting this season. Adam had watched enough of the show to know that Tim was widely considered a joke, but nothing justified what was happening now. Perhaps Adam was over-estimating this guy, maybe he was so crazy he hadn't thought this kidnapping all the way through, and Adam would get out of this alright. He'd been to dozens of meetings at 19, many of them running late into the night. It was almost midnight by now, but Adam would bet big money that the building still hadn't cleared out -- which was good, he thought, as it looked like he'd be gambling his life on it. He took a deep breath, trying to reassure himself, and navigated the city streets quickly to get to his destination.
Adam pulled into the parking lot, noting with relief that the lot wasn't empty and half a dozen lights still appeared to be on in the building. He glanced over at Tim, who didn't seem phased by this in the slightest.
"Hey, we made good time! Alright, let's go in." Tim announced.
Tim let Adam follow him into the building, apparently no longer concerned that he might be a flight risk. Tim locked the front door behind them, then they took the elevator to the top floor in silence and walked past the leather couches in the lobby. Even the sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing was audible in the quiet silence of the building. Adam's mind was flooded with memories, it was just weeks ago that he'd run into Kris in this very spot. He could still feel the weight of Kris' body as it has slammed into him from behind, arms wrapping around him and warm breath tickling his ear as Kris had giggled "surprise!" into his ear and tackled him onto the couch. Now the room felt cold and clinical and lonely. Tim tugged his arm forward, pulling him toward what he immediately recognized as Simon Fuller's office.
"Adam! Good to see you again!" Simon Fuller was standing behind his large desk, eyes bright, and arm extended out towards Adam. Adam looked him directly in the eyes as he took his hand, stumbling back into the seat Tim was pushing towards him. Adam had always liked Simon Fuller. This made him more confused than ever.
"I'm sure you're confused about what's going on here Adam, and we may have over-stepped our bounds a little bit, but you have to understand, we're only trying to help."
Adam stayed silent, waiting for any kind of indication that he should trust anyone in the room for more than a second. Simon seemed to finally grasp Adam's level of anger and distrust; when he spoke again, his tone was a bit quieter and more soothing.
"Look, uh... we've encountered a situation here that I'm not sure what to do with. I'm going to need your honesty. And I want you both to know that that as long as you're honest with me, I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe and keep this out of the press."
Both? Tim had quietly exited the room, so Adam glanced around to see who Simon was talking to. He was surprised to find a sandy-haired teenager on a couch to his right, looking almost as scared as Adam felt. Adam recognized him immediately as a contestant on this year's show, but he couldn't quite remember the name. Just seeing him put Adam at ease a little bit, he had a nice energy about him. "Alex," he thought to himself. "Alex... Lambert?"
"Look guys," Simon continued. "As I know you're both aware of, we do extensive testing of our contestants' physical and mental well-being before we allow them to the semi-final round of competition. Obviously, you both passed with flying colors at first glance. But our lab found something weird in your bloodwork, and I'm concerned."
Adam's mind started moving a thousand miles a minute. He was incredibly diligent about getting his bloodwork done every six months, and it had come back clean just a few weeks ago. The whole thing had been relatively pointless as he hadn't been with anyone since he broke up with Drake, and even though he knew he needed to move on he just couldn't make himself, everytime he made out with a boy at a club all he could think about was Kris Kris Kris and he just didn't feel right sleeping with someone he had no connection to when he knew by comparison it could never possibly to amount to anything, and now when he went out he had a tendency to get way too drunk and do embarrassing things like lose his phone, and last time it was all over twitter and he was pretty sure bloodwork for STDs tested for other stuff too.... and wait, what? He realized Simon was still talking.
"Now, be honest with me: are you two related?"
Adam paused for a second before breaking out into laughter. This was so surreal. I mean, seriously? Seriously, this is what they'd brought him in to ask him? He glanced over to Alex, who met his eyes and started smiling slowly.
"Uh, Simon, I think you need to pay a little bit less attention to the rumors going around twitter. Of course we're not related." Adam said.
"Well, that's what I thought you'd say," Simon started, choosing his words carefully. "The complication, you see, is that genetically, it appears Alex is your son."
"What?!" Adam replied. "That's insane. I mean, obviously someone just made a mistake."
"Seriously," Alex replied. "I mean, Adam would've been like 10 years old when I was born, that's crazy."
"No, we've run this at least a dozen times using the blood samples we have on file. We're going to take a few more tonight, obviously, and run it again. And I want to make it clear to you both: this is not something we were looking for, but we contract out to a private lab and a few of their technicians are aware of this. We're primarily concerned with making sure the news doesn't get out. Your integrity as artists and your health as individuals are our primary concern. But there's something even more troubling, Adam, then you testing as Alex's father."
"Uh, yeah, something even more ludicrous than Adam being my father? And what could that be?" Alex asked.
Suddenly, Simon looked very nervous.
"Well, look, I wanted to talk to him about this first, see if there's any explanation, uh, but his phone is turned off, he's not at home, and his wife has no idea where he went. So, I don't have any more information that you do about this, but guess I have to be the one to tell you, young man, that, uh... well, it appears that Kris Allen is also your father."
Continue