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the_water_clockAuthor: Clio
Title: Keep Your Enemies Closer, Chapter 5: Have His Caretakers
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen; established Ryan Seacrest/Simon Cowell
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Simon Cowell, manager of pop star hopefuls and owner of the hot downtown Club Idol, has been framed for a crime he didn't commit. Can new kid Kris Allen convince rival divas David Cook and Adam Lambert to work together to clear Simon's name? And what will happen when Simon asks Adam and Kris to "take care" of his boyfriend Ryan for him?
This chapter: Weekend at Ryan's. Adam makes an important discovery. Also, where is Anoop?
Chapter Length: 7000 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Keep Your Enemies Closer is an mystery AU set in the New York club scene of the mid-90s, when a rapidly gentrifying East Village contained chain stores and after hours clubs, hungry young artists and heroin dealers. As usual, there will be plenty of music to set the scene and bring you back to a time not long ago. Thank you to![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ali_wildgoose, who as usual went well beyond the call of beta-duty on this one, dreamerren, who encouraged me to keep going when I'd hit an impasse, and honestys_easy, who helped me give it that final polish. This chapter title from Have His Carcase by Dorothy L. Sayers.
The Unpleasantness at Club Idol | Whose Heroin? | Crowds of Witness | A Few Red Herrings
have his caretakers
This is how it happened:
Kris had been working at Idol for less than a week, and in New York for less than a month, when he had his first day off and decided to spend it at the club seeing what it was like from the patron's POV. He could get in for free, get all the free soda he wanted, and get in on staff dinner in exchange for helping to set up, so it was a really cheap evening all things considered. Everyone he'd met so far was really cool, especially that kid Adam who worked the door. He dressed kinda crazy, as did a lot of people in the club, only he pulled it off like it was just a pair of jeans. Besides, he was Simon's current favorite, which counted for a lot.
Kris danced for a bit, but found he mostly wanted to stand on one of the balconies and watch the party that Simon Cowell so carefully orchestrated six nights a week. At around 2am, he noticed that Adam was now on the dance floor, swaying to the music with his hands above his head. Kris couldn't help but watch him, couldn't imagine that every single eye in the club was on him. He knew that Cowell was probably watching from his office directly across the floor, above Blake's DJ booth, at least.
Then suddenly Adam opened his eyes, and Kris could have sworn that Adam saw him, staring down. He gave a little half-smirk, then moved off the dance floor, and Kris lost him in the crowd.
He felt like a creepy stalker, or at least a weirdo fan, and thought maybe it was time to head back to Brooklyn. He left the balcony and there, at the foot of the stairs, was Adam. He was so much taller than Kris to begin with—and even taller in his crazy boots—that Kris had to stand three steps up to be anything like eye to eye with the guy. "Um, hi," he said, lamely.
"You're Kris," Adam said, poking him in the chest.
"You're … Adam," Kris replied.
"You're new here," Adam said.
"Yeah," he said.
Adam licked his lips, and Kris suddenly felt like one of those bugs pinned to a card that you see in museums. "You should come with me," he said, grabbing Kris's hand.
He led the way around the fringes of the dance floor and the crowd around the bar, down the back hallway to the bathrooms where several couples of varying orientation were doing …; something up against the wall, and into the storage room at the back. There was an old couch, its cushions too stained for it to be out with the patrons, and Adam slinked down onto it.
"God," he said, looking up at Kris, "could you be cuter?"
"Um, what?" Kris asked, feeling like he was still a step or two behind wherever Adam was.
"Come on," Adam said, beckoning him, so Kris sits on the couch, and Adam slides, then Kris slides, until they're next to each other and it all feels kinda inevitable—and if Kris thought about it (which he does, he can't help it, he's always over thinking everything) it had been inevitable since Adam caught him looking, maybe since they met, maybe even since Kris arrived in New York. Adam leans in and they're kissing, hot and wet, and the makeup confuses Kris, because his lips are slick with lipstick like a girl, but his kiss is firm and aggressive like a guy, and Kris's thoughts about the entire encounter keep going in and out of phase like a worn-out cassette tape. At some point in all this he ended up in Adam's lap, and he can feel Adam hard under him—and enormous, what the heck, that's insane and not a little scary given the way he's thrusting into the cleft of Kris's ass. Kris isn't even drunk and Adam doesn't seem to be either but apparently they've decided to pretend that they are, with the no preamble, just right down to business, obeying their bodies.
Kris had fooled around with a couple of guys in Arkansas between the divorce and the move, and had dated a couple of guys in New York that he met through his church, but he'd kept everything really casual and other than that one guy back home the sex hadn't progressed too far. Part of that was that it was all so new, not just being out of the closet but being with anyone other than Katy, with being single and all that it meant, and he just flat-out had no idea what he was doing. Part of it was the disconnect in his head between the apparent acceptance, even expectation, of very casual sexual encounters among gay men and his own understanding of sex as sacred gift shared between a loving couple. But Adam was like a planet, with his own gravitational pull, and in a way Kris just felt kind of singled out that Adam had noticed him already.
And he was digging the kissing, and the rubbing and all that, until Adam's hand made its way between Kris's legs, and then it was like he'd suddenly woken up. "Um," he said, pulling back from Adam's mouth.
"Like it some other way, honey?" Adam said. His eyelids were heavy, half-closed, and Kris could see layers of carefully blended eyeshadow above the black eyeliner.
"No, I just—this isn't …"
"It's cool," Adam said, raising up both hands, palms forward. "No means no and all that jazz. I don't want it if you don't want it."
Kris hopped up onto his feet. "It isn't that I don't want it," he said, straightening out his clothes.
"Well," Adam said, smiling at him, "it ain't a one-time-only offer. I'm not going anyplace."
"Me neither," Kris said.
"Cool," Adam replied, and sank back into the cushions of the couch.
Kris gave a little wave as he walked out, and Adam waved back, waggling his fingers and smiling, and Kris thought that maybe, possibly, he hadn't just done the dorkiest thing in the history of the universe.
But even if he had, well, it wasn't like he could have done anything else.
Kris sat in the living room, legs crossed on the sofa, drinking coffee. The night before was coming back to him in bits and pieces still, though less because of drinking too much (he'd had all of four beers in four or five hours) or smoking too much (they'd only rolled one joint and shared it between the five of them) and more because they'd been up so late and said so much. It hadn't been the first time he'd had pot, though it was so harsh on his throat that he'd never even been tempted to make it a habit, never mind that it could make you seriously stupid. But at a party, or a night in with friends who'd had a rough few days, really, why not?
He remembered everyone putting on their coats and going up to the roof, where it was cold but not horrifically so. He remembered the snow crunching under their feet, and looking around at the lights of New Jersey and the dark gap of the abandoned warehouses north of them. They'd brushed the snow off some outdoor furniture and sat down, smoking and drinking and talking, before eventually the cold, the need for munchies, and the end of the joint drove them back into the living room. Adam made big bowls of air-popped popcorn to keep Ryan "on track" and there was also a bag of pretzels from someplace that sent them to the fridge for more beer.
He remembered David and Michael being snuggly at one point and Ryan looking on wistfully, while he himself tried very hard not to look at Adam. He remembered David pointing at Adam and asking him why he felt the need to be so damn bitchy, and Adam sassing him back with a bit less sting than usual, and then Ryan saying to him that it was okay to be nice sometimes, and Adam staring right at Kris when he said, "I know."
And a little bit to his shame, he remembered letting it slip that he knew Salt's part of "Shoop" and being challenged on it, which led to his dancing around the living room like a moron, rapping about boys, while Adam handled the Pepa part. Even the fuzzy-headedness didn't make him brave enough to say to Adam brotha wanna thank your mother for a butt like that so he ended up saying it all to Ryan, who seemed safer. On second thought, he might have said it to David, who certainly had a nice ass, but he also had a big tennis player boyfriend, so it was probably best that he hadn't. Happily there were four bedrooms in the house, so he and Adam each had their own bed to crash in, but he still felt a little unsettled. Well, he'd just wait until it was a decent hour on the west coast and call Katy.
He heard steps on the stairs. "Oh my god," Adam said, "is that coffee I smell?" He yawned, stretching his hands over his head, and Kris couldn't help but stare at the patch of skin that showed between his t-shirt and his rather low-slung sleep pants—or rather, the line of dark hair below his navel.
"Um, yeah," Kris said, swallowing hard. "Made a whole pot."
"Bless you," Adam said, stumbling off into the kitchen. He returned with a steaming mug and slouched down on the couch next to Kris.
Kris clicked on the TV. "Oh, New York 1," he said. "I like that guy who reads the papers."
"I like channel 35 better," Adam said, winking.
"What?" Kris asked.
"Oh, that's right, you're in Brooklyn. It's like this weird free cable access porn channel."
"Seriously?"
"Totally. There's strippers, and ads for escort services and phone lines, and a whole show about S&M with some guy named Slave Dale. It isn't actually that sexy, but it's a hoot."
The anchor was talking about a modest drug bust the night before, and Kris wondered, vaguely, if any of those arrested were Nigel's people. Odd, to have this connection to a drug trafficker. He kind of almost rooted for the guy, though clearly the ADA for Special Narcotics didn't.
"Hey!" Adam said. "That's Kara DioGuardi!"
"Yeah," Kris said, seeing her name under her picture.
"But that's—that's—I have to call Hernandez!" He put his coffee down and sprinted back up the stairs, then came back down with an address book and grabbed the cordless from the side table. "Hernandez, it's Adam Lambert, sorry to be calling so early," he said, then looked up at the cable box. "Oh, you're right, it's like, noon. Oh well! … Yeah, we saw David last night, he filled us in. Say, I was just watching New York 1, and that ADA, DioGuardi, that's the one on Simon's case, right? … Well, this is the thing. We were at Paula's yesterday, right? And I got a phone call, so I went into her office to take it and in there was a picture of her with the ADA. … I know! And get this: Paula said that they were old friends, and that they'd shared an apartment for a while right after Paula left Simon, when DioGuardi was in law school. … She didn't seem to think it was a problem to tell me, so. … Really? Man, because that would be great. Do you think it would make a difference? … Oh, that's fantastic. Should I tell him, or do you think … Right, right, okay. Well, let us know, and we'll be there! … Okay, thanks man. Bye."
"Wow, seriously?" Kris asked. "The ADA is friends with Paula?"
"Yeah, and I know she and Simon are friends now and everything," Adam said, "but I can't imagine that Paula had that much good to say about Simon on the day she moved out of the house." He looked at Kris, then bit his lip. "I mean, unless they were like you and Katy, of course."
Kris smiled, that he'd remembered that conversation. "Nah, me and Katy are weird," he said. "Ya can't judge divorced couples by us."
"Okay," Adam said. "Anyway, Hernandez said he's going to file for whatever, I dunno, but the thing is, we can't tell Ryan yet, in case nothing happens."
Kris nodded. "Yeah, he only just got back into a good mood."
Adam cocked his head. "Kris?"
"Yeah?"
"I mean—oh, whatever."
"What?" Kris asked, sitting up.
Adam sighed. "You like, don't have a crush on Ryan or anything, do you?"
Kris blinked, and tried to think of a reply. Apparently the redirection of his actual crush was working a little too well. "No, man. I mean, he's not really my type, but it's like he's got 'Property of Simon Cowell' tattooed on his head. I'm not dumb—I don't get in the way of the real thing, man. I mean, anyone tried to get between me and Katy? She'd go after them like you don't even wanna know. I figure the way y'all act around Simon and Ryan, at least one of them is like that, if not both."
"Both," Adam said, smiling.
"I just thought Ryan might like a little attention, y'know, since Simon isn't around and all."
"Yeah, maybe," Adam said. The phone rang then, and Adam looked at the caller id before picking it up. "New York Correc? Oh, this must be Simon!" He answered. "Hello? … Yeah, you too. … Yeah, he's right here. … He's still in bed, I think. … Um, okay." Adam pulled his head away from the phone and looked at it, then hit a button. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes, yes," said Simon's voice on the speaker. "So how is my darling lady?" he asked.
Kris scowled, confused—lady?—before remembering that where Simon was, he probably didn't want anyone to know he was gay. "She's real good," Kris said.
"We stuffed her with good food last night, and your freezer, too," Adam said.
"Excellent, excellent. So long as she's having a good time. Now, boys, I want you to do something for me."
"Okay," Kris said.
"But understand, only if you're comfortable."
"That's fine," Adam said. "We understand."
"Right. So, see, I asked you to go over there because I don't want her to get too lonely while I'm here," he said.
"Of course," Kris said.
"And I mean, lonely in all ways." He paused. "I'm sure you can see why I couldn't put this into the instructions I gave to Giuliana."
"No, I think we get it now," Adam said, though Kris didn't, not quite. "Um, does she know?"
"She knows I sent for you two," he said. "So if the opportunity arises, I'm sure she'll know that I arranged it, so to speak."
"Well, there you go then," Adam said.
"Kris, are you still there?" Simon asked.
"Yes, yes, I'm here," Kris replied. "Totally, totally get it."
"Well, that's a relief, I wasn't sure you'd be okay with that Kris, I have to admit. Right, my time is about up, so I'll go, but you take care. Of her and each other."
"We will Simon, and you take care of yourself," Adam said. Then Simon hung up.
"Um, Adam?" Kris asked.
"Yeah, he wants us to fuck Ryan," Adam said. "That's what he was saying."
"Oh." Kris thought a moment. "Wow." Then he wondered how Adam could tell that he needed the explanation.
"Yeah. I mean, you've heard the stories, right?"
"Um, no, what stories?"
"So the rumor is that Simon and Ryan basically invite you into their bed if you're the one that Simon's chosen," he said.
"Really?" Kris asked.
"Yeah, like, I've heard it goes all the way back to Kelly Clarkson, though no one seems to think they fucked Ruben or Clay or Fantasia. But I've heard it about Daughtry, and Carrie, and Kat McPhee, and apparently some kind of foursome with Blake and Chris because god knows Blake won't even take a shit without Chris in the general vicinity. Not Jordin, obviously, but supposedly Cook just before he left."
"David Cook?" Kris asked, feeling kinda dumb that he'd never heard these stories.
"Yeah, but the thing is, the people never talk about it, or deny it or whatever, and everyone else is like, third hand. Like, Megan says that she heard it from Carly, but you know Megan, who even knows."
"So, like, you were next," Kris said.
"I guess so? I mean, maybe I was but now there's all this going on? I don't know, I mean, Simon was always really personally involved but not like that."
Kris took another swallow of coffee. "I dunno, I mean, no offense? But it's kinda weird for them to be demanding sexual favors in exchange for—"
"No, no, that's not it," he said. "It's supposed to be like, a gift, or a bonding thing or something. Not like, a casting couch."
"Huh," Kris said.
"So look, I mean, I know we had that thing once, and I know you're like, a man of faith or whatever—"
"How do you know that?" Kris asked.
Adam cocked his head. "Dude, you have a fish on your car."
"Oh, right," Kris said, nodding.
"So anyway, I mean, I don't know how you feel about it? But you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
"Okay," Kris said. "I mean, thanks man. I appreciate that."
"Sure. So, what are you doing today?" Adam asked.
"Um, not much. Gotta coupla lessons later this afternoon, then, y'know, work."
"Yeah," Adam said. "I'm gonna try to get Ryan to the gym today, and then yeah. Work. Maybe we should bring Ryan to the club tonight? I can't decide."
"Well, we can ask him," Kris said, hearing Ryan come down the stairs, still in his pyjamas, glasses on rather than contacts. He had his cell phone to his ear.
"No, that would be great. I'm looking forward to it. Thanks, G!" He hung up. "Well, what do you know? Giuliana's throwing me a little dinner party tonight! Isn't that nice, a bunch of my friends all over at her and Bill's?" He smiled, and sighed. "People have just—people have just been great, they really have." He clapped his hands. "Okay, you guys did enough cooking last night; I'm making eggs for breakfast!" he announced, then walked into the kitchen.
"God, who wears pj's like that anymore?" Adam asked. "He looks like Ally McBeal."
Kris nodded, thinking about a round boy with glasses and braces sitting alone in his apartment bingeing on Ho-hos after bringing his jailed boyfriend several cartons of cigarettes, and said, "Whatever he wants, count me in."
"God this song sucks," Adam said. "I mean, what is that to say to someone? 'Talk to me tonight about love?' What does that even mean?"
"Since when have any of these songs made any sense?" David asked. "They're all just some variety of hey, let's fuck."
"Or damn, the person who was fucking me has fucked off," Adam replied.
"Also I'm so glad we're fucking," David said.
"Your life will be saved on the dance floor," Adam said.
"I think that's just Madonna," David said.
"Yeah, that's totally Madonna," Adam replied, snickering. "So, dude, I talked to Matt? And he's all buddies with Anoop and all that, and man, I think Anoop has fucked off."
"Yeah?" David asked.
"Yeah. Like, Matt gets Fridays off, so he and Anoop usually go out or at least go to dinner, but he hasn't heard from Anoop in days and he says that never happens. Even went over to his place but it didn't look like anyone had been there in a while."
"Wow."
Adam nodded. "So, like, we'll keep a lookout but I don't know when that guy is gonna show. And it sucks, because there's a lot of shit we need to ask him." Adam looked out over the crowd and shouted to a girl in blue and her friends, and the crowd of hopeful rejects parted enough to let her in. David could see the advantage of the platforms. "Not to mention that Matt has this like, thing for Anoop that he's totally not admitting, so that makes him even more freaked out because it's one thing for Anoop to fuck off and another thing for him to fuck off and not tell Matt about it."
"Man, Matt, that's a dead end," David said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, but who hasn't had some dumb thing for a straight guy at some point. Or even a newly-out-of-the-closet guy." Adam paused, then said, "So, you know, you can hang around if you want, but I don't think we'll see him."
David felt restless and out of sorts. Everyone he knew worked on Saturday nights—hell, he used to work on Saturday nights—and Mike was off at some tennis banquet. Even Archie had gone up to the Bronx for a family thing. "I'll hang around," he said with a shrug, "if that's cool."
Adam cocked his head, then gave him a little smile. "Yeah," he said, "that's cool."
Sunday ended up being a pretty fucking good day, actually, and lord knew Ryan needed one. Though that might have been why he got it.
It started with a phone call from Simon, and god but he missed him. He hadn't realized, not until now, how far he'd let that irritable, sarcastic, troublesome man into his life, how much Simon took care of him and he took care of Simon. He missed the sex, sure, but he also missed the running commentary that accompanied almost everything they did, all day long. He had planned to go back out to Riker's on Monday, but Simon said there might be a hearing in court, so he was going to talk to Hernandez and play it by ear.
He dialed into MTV and checked his email, and found that not much had happened since the day before, to his relief. Then he got dressed, and went downstairs, and there was coffee already made. Kris was waiting for him in the living room. "Ready to go?" he asked.
"Yeah, you bet," Ryan replied.
"Sure you don't want to come?" Kris asked Adam.
"Nah," Adam said. "Thanks, but I kinda like being a great big Jew." He smiled. "But I'll have whole grain pancakes and turkey bacon and fruit salad waiting for you when you get back!"
Ryan hadn't been to church in quite a while—not since he'd started seeing Simon at least, maybe not since he'd started the MTV job and was so often out late at night. It was kind of nice, and he appreciated Kris bringing him along. He felt like he was a teen again, or visiting his parents. There was a kind of homeyness about it that he didn't expect from his life in New York unless he created it himself. He prayed for Simon, mostly, but also everyone else he knew, and for himself a little, and felt reconnected to something.
And then there was brunch, back at the townhouse, and Adam had invited Allison over, too. Whole grain pancakes with turkey bacon wasn't really flapjacks and bacon, and he could almost hear how Simon would have bitched about it if he were there, but they were still good. Then best of all, they all curled up on the couch and watched movies—An American in Paris was on cable, and On the Town after that, and they ate veggies with yogurt dip and talked about Gene Kelly's ass.
Carly's band Cherry Bomb was playing at AGT that night, and Adam was going to sing a song with them, so they dressed up and headed out. Ryan hadn't been to Club Idol since that night, and didn't want to go, but AGT was too full of Nick's energy to have more ghosts of Simon than Ryan could handle. And besides, all these nice people were looking out for him. Ryan took Adam and Kris and Allison out to dinner first, one of those Mongolian barbeque places. It was just a fun, nice day.
They got to AGT a little early, really before it was properly open but Ryan wanted to see Nick anyway, without all the chaos. When they came in, David and Michael were there, too, and there was a kid sitting at the piano, singing that Bryan Adams prom song.
"That must be Archie," Adam whispered.
"He sounds good," Kris whispered back.
Adam nodded. "Yeah, he really does."
As he finished, they walked up toward the stage, but before Ryan could shake the kid's hand, he heard a shriek from behind him.
"Oh my god, David Archuleta?" Allison screamed.
Archie turned. "Allie? Allison Iraheta?"
Then they hugged, and immediately began speaking in very rapid Spanglish.
"Uh," David said. "I guess you know each other?"
Archie laughed. "Sorry! Um, Allie and I grew up together."
"We went to the same church," she said.
"And the same church school," he said.
"And we lived about three blocks apart," she added.
"But she was always a lot cooler then me," he said.
"No!" she said, smiling. "Anyway you got better grades."
"C'mon, Allie, you're really smart," he said. "You just didn't like it there."
"Nope," she said. "Left as soon as I could, got my GED. When did you leave?"
He shrugged. "Graduated early and stuff, and then at Christmas I said I wanted to be a singer, and, well, you know."
"Yeah," she said, and hugged him again. "So what are you doing now?"
"Living with Cook here," he said, "and I'm gonna sing at the showcase next week."
"You are?" she asked, excited. "So am I!"
"Really? Oh my gosh, that's great!"
"Davey," she said, giggling, "you can swear now, you know, now that you've left."
"Yeah, I dunno, I still don't want to," he said, looking up at her shyly. "Anyway, I have to find a song; nothing feels quite right yet."
Adam cleared his throat. "You know, I think I know something," he said. "Um, let me just run back to my place and grab it. Here, I'll take your things back, Allie."
"Wow, thanks," she said.
As Adam trotted out the door, Archie said, "So, you're living with him?"
Allie giggled. "Not like that!"
"That's not what I meant!" Archie said. "Even I could tell he's gay!" He paused, then said, "Sometimes I think everyone around here is gay, actually."
"That's what happens when you come downtown," Allie said. She looked around at Kris, and Ryan, and David and Michael, and Nick and Scott in the corner talking to Carly and her band. "I don't think Brooke is gay," she said. "I'm not, either."
"Me too," Archie said. "I mean, me neither. I mean, I'm not gay, either."
"No kidding," David said, grinning. "He keeps rejecting me!"
"Ew, that is not true! You haven't—;that would be gross!" Archie protested. "Not because you're a guy, but you're with Michael, and you're kinda old."
"Ouch!" David said. "I'm twenty-five!"
"Yeah, well," Archie said, but he was grinning, so David punched him in the arm.
They took some seats at the bar, while the first band set up, everyone talking over each other, and before too long Adam came back with a CD in his hand. "Here," he said, a little out of breath. "Third track. I'm so sure they have the sheet music at Colony, and I think just you and the piano?"
David looked over Archie's shoulder. "Bacharach, huh. Oh, I know that song; we played it in like, high school jazz band."
"Band geek," Adam said.
"Theater nerd," David replied.
"Anyway," Adam continued, "everyone knows Simon's a sucker for a pretty little pop ballad."
"Gee, thanks," Archie said.
"Yeah," David said, looking Adam in the eye. "Thanks."
Ryan looked over at Kris, who smiled back.
Nick came over then, full of his usual greetings and high spirits. He didn't have to do much emcee'ing on Saturdays, as the bands took care of themselves, which often meant he'd have a little nervous energy and be bouncing around the back of the room. Scott, as usual, just sat and listened as Nick prattled on about this or that, and Ryan wondered if he knew that all of his shirts were purple, or if this was some weird long-running prank that Nick was pulling on him.
Nick sat down on the bar, as he often did before the place opened, and lit a cigarette.
"Hey," Ryan said, noticing the green pack, "that's Simon's brand." It was downright pavlovian, his body's response to the smell of the weird minty smoke, and his stomach clenched with missing Simon. He cleared his throat, as unobtrusively as possible, and then felt Kris's hand on his shoulder, giving him a squeeze. Always watching him, that Kris, and it made him miss Simon even more, because he did that, too. Simon must have noticed Kris doing that, and sent him to Ryan for that reason.
"Yeah, it's not my usual," Nick was saying. "I'm a Marlboro man if you can believe it. But I'm not going to turn down free cigarettes."
"Free?" asked Adam.
"Yeah, just the other day, Tuesday actually, five boxes of cigarettes turned up in the storage room. Out of nowhere!"
Adam and David exchanged a look, then Adam said, "Nick, do you remember who was around on Tuesday, and could have gone back there?"
"Well, the bathroom is back there, so anyone might have gone in. But Cherry Bomb was playing that night, and I remember Ramiele and Tatiana and Kristy Lee all sharing a table and gossiping about working for Simon. Oh, and you know, Paula was here. I think she's just always liked Carly. That's not so unusual—she comes by, oh, once or twice a month, something like that."
Adam and David exchanged another look, and Ryan couldn't help but think that there was some kind of clue, but he wasn't sure what it was.
Nick looked at his watch. "Okay, let's get things started," he said, hopping down and walking over to the door, where Lil Rounds stood, ready to collect the cover charge. AGT wasn't that large, and the crowds on Sunday night were modest, so only Jorge Nuñez needed to staff the bar. After he walked away, David pulled a little notebook out of his pocket.
"Paula, Ramiele, Tatiana, and Kristy Lee, right?" he asked.
"And all the girls in Cherry Bomb," Adam said, "so that means Megan."
"But—never mind, we'll talk later," David said, noting the people coming in the door, including one Tatiana Del Toro. Adam winced, and fled as the girl made a beeline for Ryan.
"Oh Ryan!" she shouted. "I am so glad to see you!" she said, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Um, hi, Tatiana," he said, hugging her awkwardly. "How have you been?"
"Oh, but how have you been, Ryan?" she asked. "Are you okay? We haven't seen you at the club!"
"Yes, thank you, yes. I have a lot of good friends and all is well."
"Really? Is there anything I can do, anything at all?" She stared at him with her large, round eyes.
"Wow, I really appreciate it but I don't think so. Can you think of anything, Kris?"
"No," Kris said. "Well, I mean—you aren't friends with Anoop, are you? Because we haven't seen him in a while, and we're getting kinda worried."
"Oh," she said, and put a finger to her lips. She beckoned them closer, and stage-whispered, "I used to be more than friends with Anoop! But he made me promise not to tell anyone!" She backed up, her hand over her mouth again, giggling.
"Gee, that wasn't very nice of him," Kris said.
Tatiana scowled, and her eyes were suddenly very dark. "No, it wasn't," she said. "It was very mean of him." Then she giggled again, a little self-consciously, and Ryan wondered what she possibly found funny. "But that is his loss!"
"That's right," Ryan said. "If I dated you, I wouldn't keep it a secret."
"Oh Ryan," she said, hitting him in the chest in a way she no doubt thought was flirtatious but which actually hurt, "you are such a tease! We all know your heart is elsewhere!"
"Well, yes, that's true," Ryan said.
She turned to Kris. "And you?"
Ryan turned, wondering what he would say. He'd noticed a little bit of energy between Kris and Adam, but it didn't seem that anything had happened quite yet. "Oh, Tatiana," he said, "I don't really date girls anymore, I'm sorry." Ryan had to hand it to him—the kid actually sounded sincere.
"Oh well!" she said, and gave Kris a hug anyway, one that nearly knocked him over backwards. "Where is that Adam?" she asked, turning around. "Adam! Adam!" she shouted as she wandered off.
"Wow," Ryan said, turning back to Kris and smiling, but Kris's jaw was set, angrily. "What?" Ryan asked.
"Oh, that Anoop," Kris said. "Seriously, what an ass. I mean, he seems like a nice guy and all, and fun to be around, and then he pulls shit like this?" Kris shook his head. "Never mind that he's got Matt following him around like a puppy dog, and he could put a stop to that if he wanted to, but he doesn't." He shook his head. "What an ego."
"Well!" Ryan said. He didn't know if he'd ever seen Kris this out of sorts—he was usually so easy-going. "Remind me not to get on your bad side!"
Kris's jaw relaxed then. "Sorry," he said. "I just can't stand to see people treated carelessly."
Ryan turned and watched as Adam smiled at Tatiana, actually looking like he was listening to her with interest—if you didn't know what his interested look actually was. Maybe Kris was rubbing off on him. "Then I'm glad you're my friend, Kris," Ryan said.
Then Carly said, "We'd like to end our set by bringing up a friend of the band, who sings a mean rock song—almost as good as I do! Come on up, Adam Lambert!"
There was applause and general shouting, and the crowd parted for Adam, as they tend to do for certain people. Ryan hadn't actually heard Adam sing in a little while, mostly because Simon was still trying to work out what to do with the kid. He didn't fit into an easy category, which made the process a bit trickier and more labor intensive, though Ryan was pretty sure Simon was up to it. A real challenge would probably be good for him.
That is, if he got past the current one.
He hadn't forgotten how exciting it was to watch Adam sing, bouncing around on the stage, punching every lyric, whipping the crowd up with the emotion he put into his performance. Carly didn't play solos often, nor Megan many drum fills, but the whole band rose to the occasion, tight as anything. Unsurprisingly, Kris was the opposite of playing it cool—he was on the floor, dancing and pumping his fist, as was Allison, so Ryan got down off his stool and joined them, and when Adam hit that insane high note they cheered with the rest of the crowd. Ryan watched Kris as the song ended—he was staring up at Adam with a kind of amazed admiration—and wondered if it was just the usual musical crush, or something more. Certainly the two of them worked together well.
Adam's song closed out the set, and Cherry Bomb's set closed out the night, so there wasn't much more to do other than settle up the tab Ryan had started earlier for the three of them, and then chat with Kris while they waited for Adam, who for once didn't take long.
"Hey," he said. "David and Michael are going to help them load out, so we can just go. Where's Allie?"
"I think she's all right," Kris said, nodding across the room. Adam turned, and saw Allie talking to Archie.
"Yeah, I guess so," he said, grinning. "Well, shall we?"
They were home by midnight, pretty early by clubbing standards, and between that and the show they were still sort of wired. Kris made some cocoa, and then Adam said something about wanting to hear a song that Kris had been working on, so they brought Kris's keyboard downstairs and set it up in the living room. Kris sat on a stool, a notebook in front of him, and Adam settled onto the couch next to Ryan.
Like everything else lately, it just made Ryan think of Simon, but in that sweet way that made his heart ache. "Kris, that was beautiful," he said.
"Yeah?" Kris asked. "I got an idea for a string line, actually. You know, if it ever gets recorded. I mean, I got my viola back in Williamsburg."
Adam was smiling. "Of course you play the viola," he said. "Of course you do."
Kris smiled at that. "Anything you want to sing, Adam?" he asked.
"Maybe?" he said, sitting up. "You know that Tears for Fears song, 'Mad World'?"
"Yeah," Kris said.
"I've been playing around with slowing it down."
"Just a little slower—yeah, yeah, like that," he said, and then he got up and stood behind Kris, leaning against the mantle. hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow, no tomorrow, no tomorrow
Ryan sniffled a little. "Wow," he said. "That was, that was really great."
"Oh no, Ryan!" Adam said, coming back to the couch. "We weren't trying to make you cry!"
"It's okay," Ryan said, waving his hand. "Really, it's good."
Kris sat on the other side of him. "Are you sure, Ryan?"
Ryan could almost feel Kris and Adam looking at each other. He felt them close to him down to his bones and god, he was so tired, but he really didn't want to sleep, or fall part, or any of it. "Did Simon put you up to this?" he asked.
Kris grinned. "Kinda. But we wouldn't do anything just 'cause of that," he said.
Ryan sighed.
"Ryan," Adam said, "what do you want?"
Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, and lay his head back on the sofa. When he opened them again he said, "Honestly? I just miss him touching me; he touches me all the damn time. I don't need the sex. It would just be nice to have someone else in the bed. I mean, it's a king sized bed. We can all fit." He paused, then continued, "He really said that?"
They nodded.
"God, he's such a—look, I know about that whole rumor, about all these threesomes we're having? And it isn't really true, not in the way people talk about it, but even if it was—Jesus, Simon. It's just like him to think that this is going to make me unhappy or resentful." He shook his head. "Come on, let's just get undressed and go to bed." He got up from the couch and led the way upstairs.
Pushers Must Advertise
Title: Keep Your Enemies Closer, Chapter 5: Have His Caretakers
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen; established Ryan Seacrest/Simon Cowell
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Simon Cowell, manager of pop star hopefuls and owner of the hot downtown Club Idol, has been framed for a crime he didn't commit. Can new kid Kris Allen convince rival divas David Cook and Adam Lambert to work together to clear Simon's name? And what will happen when Simon asks Adam and Kris to "take care" of his boyfriend Ryan for him?
This chapter: Weekend at Ryan's. Adam makes an important discovery. Also, where is Anoop?
Chapter Length: 7000 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Keep Your Enemies Closer is an mystery AU set in the New York club scene of the mid-90s, when a rapidly gentrifying East Village contained chain stores and after hours clubs, hungry young artists and heroin dealers. As usual, there will be plenty of music to set the scene and bring you back to a time not long ago. Thank you to
ali_wildgoose, who as usual went well beyond the call of beta-duty on this one, dreamerren, who encouraged me to keep going when I'd hit an impasse, and honestys_easy, who helped me give it that final polish. This chapter title from Have His Carcase by Dorothy L. Sayers.The Unpleasantness at Club Idol | Whose Heroin? | Crowds of Witness | A Few Red Herrings
have his caretakers
This is how it happened:
Kris had been working at Idol for less than a week, and in New York for less than a month, when he had his first day off and decided to spend it at the club seeing what it was like from the patron's POV. He could get in for free, get all the free soda he wanted, and get in on staff dinner in exchange for helping to set up, so it was a really cheap evening all things considered. Everyone he'd met so far was really cool, especially that kid Adam who worked the door. He dressed kinda crazy, as did a lot of people in the club, only he pulled it off like it was just a pair of jeans. Besides, he was Simon's current favorite, which counted for a lot.
Kris danced for a bit, but found he mostly wanted to stand on one of the balconies and watch the party that Simon Cowell so carefully orchestrated six nights a week. At around 2am, he noticed that Adam was now on the dance floor, swaying to the music with his hands above his head. Kris couldn't help but watch him, couldn't imagine that every single eye in the club was on him. He knew that Cowell was probably watching from his office directly across the floor, above Blake's DJ booth, at least.
Then suddenly Adam opened his eyes, and Kris could have sworn that Adam saw him, staring down. He gave a little half-smirk, then moved off the dance floor, and Kris lost him in the crowd.
He felt like a creepy stalker, or at least a weirdo fan, and thought maybe it was time to head back to Brooklyn. He left the balcony and there, at the foot of the stairs, was Adam. He was so much taller than Kris to begin with—and even taller in his crazy boots—that Kris had to stand three steps up to be anything like eye to eye with the guy. "Um, hi," he said, lamely.
"You're Kris," Adam said, poking him in the chest.
"You're … Adam," Kris replied.
"You're new here," Adam said.
"Yeah," he said.
Adam licked his lips, and Kris suddenly felt like one of those bugs pinned to a card that you see in museums. "You should come with me," he said, grabbing Kris's hand.
He led the way around the fringes of the dance floor and the crowd around the bar, down the back hallway to the bathrooms where several couples of varying orientation were doing …; something up against the wall, and into the storage room at the back. There was an old couch, its cushions too stained for it to be out with the patrons, and Adam slinked down onto it.
"God," he said, looking up at Kris, "could you be cuter?"
"Um, what?" Kris asked, feeling like he was still a step or two behind wherever Adam was.
"Come on," Adam said, beckoning him, so Kris sits on the couch, and Adam slides, then Kris slides, until they're next to each other and it all feels kinda inevitable—and if Kris thought about it (which he does, he can't help it, he's always over thinking everything) it had been inevitable since Adam caught him looking, maybe since they met, maybe even since Kris arrived in New York. Adam leans in and they're kissing, hot and wet, and the makeup confuses Kris, because his lips are slick with lipstick like a girl, but his kiss is firm and aggressive like a guy, and Kris's thoughts about the entire encounter keep going in and out of phase like a worn-out cassette tape. At some point in all this he ended up in Adam's lap, and he can feel Adam hard under him—and enormous, what the heck, that's insane and not a little scary given the way he's thrusting into the cleft of Kris's ass. Kris isn't even drunk and Adam doesn't seem to be either but apparently they've decided to pretend that they are, with the no preamble, just right down to business, obeying their bodies.
Kris had fooled around with a couple of guys in Arkansas between the divorce and the move, and had dated a couple of guys in New York that he met through his church, but he'd kept everything really casual and other than that one guy back home the sex hadn't progressed too far. Part of that was that it was all so new, not just being out of the closet but being with anyone other than Katy, with being single and all that it meant, and he just flat-out had no idea what he was doing. Part of it was the disconnect in his head between the apparent acceptance, even expectation, of very casual sexual encounters among gay men and his own understanding of sex as sacred gift shared between a loving couple. But Adam was like a planet, with his own gravitational pull, and in a way Kris just felt kind of singled out that Adam had noticed him already.
And he was digging the kissing, and the rubbing and all that, until Adam's hand made its way between Kris's legs, and then it was like he'd suddenly woken up. "Um," he said, pulling back from Adam's mouth.
"Like it some other way, honey?" Adam said. His eyelids were heavy, half-closed, and Kris could see layers of carefully blended eyeshadow above the black eyeliner.
"No, I just—this isn't …"
"It's cool," Adam said, raising up both hands, palms forward. "No means no and all that jazz. I don't want it if you don't want it."
Kris hopped up onto his feet. "It isn't that I don't want it," he said, straightening out his clothes.
"Well," Adam said, smiling at him, "it ain't a one-time-only offer. I'm not going anyplace."
"Me neither," Kris said.
"Cool," Adam replied, and sank back into the cushions of the couch.
Kris gave a little wave as he walked out, and Adam waved back, waggling his fingers and smiling, and Kris thought that maybe, possibly, he hadn't just done the dorkiest thing in the history of the universe.
But even if he had, well, it wasn't like he could have done anything else.
Kris sat in the living room, legs crossed on the sofa, drinking coffee. The night before was coming back to him in bits and pieces still, though less because of drinking too much (he'd had all of four beers in four or five hours) or smoking too much (they'd only rolled one joint and shared it between the five of them) and more because they'd been up so late and said so much. It hadn't been the first time he'd had pot, though it was so harsh on his throat that he'd never even been tempted to make it a habit, never mind that it could make you seriously stupid. But at a party, or a night in with friends who'd had a rough few days, really, why not?
He remembered everyone putting on their coats and going up to the roof, where it was cold but not horrifically so. He remembered the snow crunching under their feet, and looking around at the lights of New Jersey and the dark gap of the abandoned warehouses north of them. They'd brushed the snow off some outdoor furniture and sat down, smoking and drinking and talking, before eventually the cold, the need for munchies, and the end of the joint drove them back into the living room. Adam made big bowls of air-popped popcorn to keep Ryan "on track" and there was also a bag of pretzels from someplace that sent them to the fridge for more beer.
He remembered David and Michael being snuggly at one point and Ryan looking on wistfully, while he himself tried very hard not to look at Adam. He remembered David pointing at Adam and asking him why he felt the need to be so damn bitchy, and Adam sassing him back with a bit less sting than usual, and then Ryan saying to him that it was okay to be nice sometimes, and Adam staring right at Kris when he said, "I know."
And a little bit to his shame, he remembered letting it slip that he knew Salt's part of "Shoop" and being challenged on it, which led to his dancing around the living room like a moron, rapping about boys, while Adam handled the Pepa part. Even the fuzzy-headedness didn't make him brave enough to say to Adam brotha wanna thank your mother for a butt like that so he ended up saying it all to Ryan, who seemed safer. On second thought, he might have said it to David, who certainly had a nice ass, but he also had a big tennis player boyfriend, so it was probably best that he hadn't. Happily there were four bedrooms in the house, so he and Adam each had their own bed to crash in, but he still felt a little unsettled. Well, he'd just wait until it was a decent hour on the west coast and call Katy.
He heard steps on the stairs. "Oh my god," Adam said, "is that coffee I smell?" He yawned, stretching his hands over his head, and Kris couldn't help but stare at the patch of skin that showed between his t-shirt and his rather low-slung sleep pants—or rather, the line of dark hair below his navel.
"Um, yeah," Kris said, swallowing hard. "Made a whole pot."
"Bless you," Adam said, stumbling off into the kitchen. He returned with a steaming mug and slouched down on the couch next to Kris.
Kris clicked on the TV. "Oh, New York 1," he said. "I like that guy who reads the papers."
"I like channel 35 better," Adam said, winking.
"What?" Kris asked.
"Oh, that's right, you're in Brooklyn. It's like this weird free cable access porn channel."
"Seriously?"
"Totally. There's strippers, and ads for escort services and phone lines, and a whole show about S&M with some guy named Slave Dale. It isn't actually that sexy, but it's a hoot."
The anchor was talking about a modest drug bust the night before, and Kris wondered, vaguely, if any of those arrested were Nigel's people. Odd, to have this connection to a drug trafficker. He kind of almost rooted for the guy, though clearly the ADA for Special Narcotics didn't.
"Hey!" Adam said. "That's Kara DioGuardi!"
"Yeah," Kris said, seeing her name under her picture.
"But that's—that's—I have to call Hernandez!" He put his coffee down and sprinted back up the stairs, then came back down with an address book and grabbed the cordless from the side table. "Hernandez, it's Adam Lambert, sorry to be calling so early," he said, then looked up at the cable box. "Oh, you're right, it's like, noon. Oh well! … Yeah, we saw David last night, he filled us in. Say, I was just watching New York 1, and that ADA, DioGuardi, that's the one on Simon's case, right? … Well, this is the thing. We were at Paula's yesterday, right? And I got a phone call, so I went into her office to take it and in there was a picture of her with the ADA. … I know! And get this: Paula said that they were old friends, and that they'd shared an apartment for a while right after Paula left Simon, when DioGuardi was in law school. … She didn't seem to think it was a problem to tell me, so. … Really? Man, because that would be great. Do you think it would make a difference? … Oh, that's fantastic. Should I tell him, or do you think … Right, right, okay. Well, let us know, and we'll be there! … Okay, thanks man. Bye."
"Wow, seriously?" Kris asked. "The ADA is friends with Paula?"
"Yeah, and I know she and Simon are friends now and everything," Adam said, "but I can't imagine that Paula had that much good to say about Simon on the day she moved out of the house." He looked at Kris, then bit his lip. "I mean, unless they were like you and Katy, of course."
Kris smiled, that he'd remembered that conversation. "Nah, me and Katy are weird," he said. "Ya can't judge divorced couples by us."
"Okay," Adam said. "Anyway, Hernandez said he's going to file for whatever, I dunno, but the thing is, we can't tell Ryan yet, in case nothing happens."
Kris nodded. "Yeah, he only just got back into a good mood."
Adam cocked his head. "Kris?"
"Yeah?"
"I mean—oh, whatever."
"What?" Kris asked, sitting up.
Adam sighed. "You like, don't have a crush on Ryan or anything, do you?"
Kris blinked, and tried to think of a reply. Apparently the redirection of his actual crush was working a little too well. "No, man. I mean, he's not really my type, but it's like he's got 'Property of Simon Cowell' tattooed on his head. I'm not dumb—I don't get in the way of the real thing, man. I mean, anyone tried to get between me and Katy? She'd go after them like you don't even wanna know. I figure the way y'all act around Simon and Ryan, at least one of them is like that, if not both."
"Both," Adam said, smiling.
"I just thought Ryan might like a little attention, y'know, since Simon isn't around and all."
"Yeah, maybe," Adam said. The phone rang then, and Adam looked at the caller id before picking it up. "New York Correc? Oh, this must be Simon!" He answered. "Hello? … Yeah, you too. … Yeah, he's right here. … He's still in bed, I think. … Um, okay." Adam pulled his head away from the phone and looked at it, then hit a button. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes, yes," said Simon's voice on the speaker. "So how is my darling lady?" he asked.
Kris scowled, confused—lady?—before remembering that where Simon was, he probably didn't want anyone to know he was gay. "She's real good," Kris said.
"We stuffed her with good food last night, and your freezer, too," Adam said.
"Excellent, excellent. So long as she's having a good time. Now, boys, I want you to do something for me."
"Okay," Kris said.
"But understand, only if you're comfortable."
"That's fine," Adam said. "We understand."
"Right. So, see, I asked you to go over there because I don't want her to get too lonely while I'm here," he said.
"Of course," Kris said.
"And I mean, lonely in all ways." He paused. "I'm sure you can see why I couldn't put this into the instructions I gave to Giuliana."
"No, I think we get it now," Adam said, though Kris didn't, not quite. "Um, does she know?"
"She knows I sent for you two," he said. "So if the opportunity arises, I'm sure she'll know that I arranged it, so to speak."
"Well, there you go then," Adam said.
"Kris, are you still there?" Simon asked.
"Yes, yes, I'm here," Kris replied. "Totally, totally get it."
"Well, that's a relief, I wasn't sure you'd be okay with that Kris, I have to admit. Right, my time is about up, so I'll go, but you take care. Of her and each other."
"We will Simon, and you take care of yourself," Adam said. Then Simon hung up.
"Um, Adam?" Kris asked.
"Yeah, he wants us to fuck Ryan," Adam said. "That's what he was saying."
"Oh." Kris thought a moment. "Wow." Then he wondered how Adam could tell that he needed the explanation.
"Yeah. I mean, you've heard the stories, right?"
"Um, no, what stories?"
"So the rumor is that Simon and Ryan basically invite you into their bed if you're the one that Simon's chosen," he said.
"Really?" Kris asked.
"Yeah, like, I've heard it goes all the way back to Kelly Clarkson, though no one seems to think they fucked Ruben or Clay or Fantasia. But I've heard it about Daughtry, and Carrie, and Kat McPhee, and apparently some kind of foursome with Blake and Chris because god knows Blake won't even take a shit without Chris in the general vicinity. Not Jordin, obviously, but supposedly Cook just before he left."
"David Cook?" Kris asked, feeling kinda dumb that he'd never heard these stories.
"Yeah, but the thing is, the people never talk about it, or deny it or whatever, and everyone else is like, third hand. Like, Megan says that she heard it from Carly, but you know Megan, who even knows."
"So, like, you were next," Kris said.
"I guess so? I mean, maybe I was but now there's all this going on? I don't know, I mean, Simon was always really personally involved but not like that."
Kris took another swallow of coffee. "I dunno, I mean, no offense? But it's kinda weird for them to be demanding sexual favors in exchange for—"
"No, no, that's not it," he said. "It's supposed to be like, a gift, or a bonding thing or something. Not like, a casting couch."
"Huh," Kris said.
"So look, I mean, I know we had that thing once, and I know you're like, a man of faith or whatever—"
"How do you know that?" Kris asked.
Adam cocked his head. "Dude, you have a fish on your car."
"Oh, right," Kris said, nodding.
"So anyway, I mean, I don't know how you feel about it? But you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
"Okay," Kris said. "I mean, thanks man. I appreciate that."
"Sure. So, what are you doing today?" Adam asked.
"Um, not much. Gotta coupla lessons later this afternoon, then, y'know, work."
"Yeah," Adam said. "I'm gonna try to get Ryan to the gym today, and then yeah. Work. Maybe we should bring Ryan to the club tonight? I can't decide."
"Well, we can ask him," Kris said, hearing Ryan come down the stairs, still in his pyjamas, glasses on rather than contacts. He had his cell phone to his ear.
"No, that would be great. I'm looking forward to it. Thanks, G!" He hung up. "Well, what do you know? Giuliana's throwing me a little dinner party tonight! Isn't that nice, a bunch of my friends all over at her and Bill's?" He smiled, and sighed. "People have just—people have just been great, they really have." He clapped his hands. "Okay, you guys did enough cooking last night; I'm making eggs for breakfast!" he announced, then walked into the kitchen.
"God, who wears pj's like that anymore?" Adam asked. "He looks like Ally McBeal."
Kris nodded, thinking about a round boy with glasses and braces sitting alone in his apartment bingeing on Ho-hos after bringing his jailed boyfriend several cartons of cigarettes, and said, "Whatever he wants, count me in."
"God this song sucks," Adam said. "I mean, what is that to say to someone? 'Talk to me tonight about love?' What does that even mean?"
"Since when have any of these songs made any sense?" David asked. "They're all just some variety of hey, let's fuck."
"Or damn, the person who was fucking me has fucked off," Adam replied.
"Also I'm so glad we're fucking," David said.
"Your life will be saved on the dance floor," Adam said.
"I think that's just Madonna," David said.
"Yeah, that's totally Madonna," Adam replied, snickering. "So, dude, I talked to Matt? And he's all buddies with Anoop and all that, and man, I think Anoop has fucked off."
"Yeah?" David asked.
"Yeah. Like, Matt gets Fridays off, so he and Anoop usually go out or at least go to dinner, but he hasn't heard from Anoop in days and he says that never happens. Even went over to his place but it didn't look like anyone had been there in a while."
"Wow."
Adam nodded. "So, like, we'll keep a lookout but I don't know when that guy is gonna show. And it sucks, because there's a lot of shit we need to ask him." Adam looked out over the crowd and shouted to a girl in blue and her friends, and the crowd of hopeful rejects parted enough to let her in. David could see the advantage of the platforms. "Not to mention that Matt has this like, thing for Anoop that he's totally not admitting, so that makes him even more freaked out because it's one thing for Anoop to fuck off and another thing for him to fuck off and not tell Matt about it."
"Man, Matt, that's a dead end," David said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, but who hasn't had some dumb thing for a straight guy at some point. Or even a newly-out-of-the-closet guy." Adam paused, then said, "So, you know, you can hang around if you want, but I don't think we'll see him."
David felt restless and out of sorts. Everyone he knew worked on Saturday nights—hell, he used to work on Saturday nights—and Mike was off at some tennis banquet. Even Archie had gone up to the Bronx for a family thing. "I'll hang around," he said with a shrug, "if that's cool."
Adam cocked his head, then gave him a little smile. "Yeah," he said, "that's cool."
Sunday ended up being a pretty fucking good day, actually, and lord knew Ryan needed one. Though that might have been why he got it.
It started with a phone call from Simon, and god but he missed him. He hadn't realized, not until now, how far he'd let that irritable, sarcastic, troublesome man into his life, how much Simon took care of him and he took care of Simon. He missed the sex, sure, but he also missed the running commentary that accompanied almost everything they did, all day long. He had planned to go back out to Riker's on Monday, but Simon said there might be a hearing in court, so he was going to talk to Hernandez and play it by ear.
He dialed into MTV and checked his email, and found that not much had happened since the day before, to his relief. Then he got dressed, and went downstairs, and there was coffee already made. Kris was waiting for him in the living room. "Ready to go?" he asked.
"Yeah, you bet," Ryan replied.
"Sure you don't want to come?" Kris asked Adam.
"Nah," Adam said. "Thanks, but I kinda like being a great big Jew." He smiled. "But I'll have whole grain pancakes and turkey bacon and fruit salad waiting for you when you get back!"
Ryan hadn't been to church in quite a while—not since he'd started seeing Simon at least, maybe not since he'd started the MTV job and was so often out late at night. It was kind of nice, and he appreciated Kris bringing him along. He felt like he was a teen again, or visiting his parents. There was a kind of homeyness about it that he didn't expect from his life in New York unless he created it himself. He prayed for Simon, mostly, but also everyone else he knew, and for himself a little, and felt reconnected to something.
And then there was brunch, back at the townhouse, and Adam had invited Allison over, too. Whole grain pancakes with turkey bacon wasn't really flapjacks and bacon, and he could almost hear how Simon would have bitched about it if he were there, but they were still good. Then best of all, they all curled up on the couch and watched movies—An American in Paris was on cable, and On the Town after that, and they ate veggies with yogurt dip and talked about Gene Kelly's ass.
Carly's band Cherry Bomb was playing at AGT that night, and Adam was going to sing a song with them, so they dressed up and headed out. Ryan hadn't been to Club Idol since that night, and didn't want to go, but AGT was too full of Nick's energy to have more ghosts of Simon than Ryan could handle. And besides, all these nice people were looking out for him. Ryan took Adam and Kris and Allison out to dinner first, one of those Mongolian barbeque places. It was just a fun, nice day.
They got to AGT a little early, really before it was properly open but Ryan wanted to see Nick anyway, without all the chaos. When they came in, David and Michael were there, too, and there was a kid sitting at the piano, singing that Bryan Adams prom song.
"That must be Archie," Adam whispered.
"He sounds good," Kris whispered back.
Adam nodded. "Yeah, he really does."
As he finished, they walked up toward the stage, but before Ryan could shake the kid's hand, he heard a shriek from behind him.
"Oh my god, David Archuleta?" Allison screamed.
Archie turned. "Allie? Allison Iraheta?"
Then they hugged, and immediately began speaking in very rapid Spanglish.
"Uh," David said. "I guess you know each other?"
Archie laughed. "Sorry! Um, Allie and I grew up together."
"We went to the same church," she said.
"And the same church school," he said.
"And we lived about three blocks apart," she added.
"But she was always a lot cooler then me," he said.
"No!" she said, smiling. "Anyway you got better grades."
"C'mon, Allie, you're really smart," he said. "You just didn't like it there."
"Nope," she said. "Left as soon as I could, got my GED. When did you leave?"
He shrugged. "Graduated early and stuff, and then at Christmas I said I wanted to be a singer, and, well, you know."
"Yeah," she said, and hugged him again. "So what are you doing now?"
"Living with Cook here," he said, "and I'm gonna sing at the showcase next week."
"You are?" she asked, excited. "So am I!"
"Really? Oh my gosh, that's great!"
"Davey," she said, giggling, "you can swear now, you know, now that you've left."
"Yeah, I dunno, I still don't want to," he said, looking up at her shyly. "Anyway, I have to find a song; nothing feels quite right yet."
Adam cleared his throat. "You know, I think I know something," he said. "Um, let me just run back to my place and grab it. Here, I'll take your things back, Allie."
"Wow, thanks," she said.
As Adam trotted out the door, Archie said, "So, you're living with him?"
Allie giggled. "Not like that!"
"That's not what I meant!" Archie said. "Even I could tell he's gay!" He paused, then said, "Sometimes I think everyone around here is gay, actually."
"That's what happens when you come downtown," Allie said. She looked around at Kris, and Ryan, and David and Michael, and Nick and Scott in the corner talking to Carly and her band. "I don't think Brooke is gay," she said. "I'm not, either."
"Me too," Archie said. "I mean, me neither. I mean, I'm not gay, either."
"No kidding," David said, grinning. "He keeps rejecting me!"
"Ew, that is not true! You haven't—;that would be gross!" Archie protested. "Not because you're a guy, but you're with Michael, and you're kinda old."
"Ouch!" David said. "I'm twenty-five!"
"Yeah, well," Archie said, but he was grinning, so David punched him in the arm.
They took some seats at the bar, while the first band set up, everyone talking over each other, and before too long Adam came back with a CD in his hand. "Here," he said, a little out of breath. "Third track. I'm so sure they have the sheet music at Colony, and I think just you and the piano?"
David looked over Archie's shoulder. "Bacharach, huh. Oh, I know that song; we played it in like, high school jazz band."
"Band geek," Adam said.
"Theater nerd," David replied.
"Anyway," Adam continued, "everyone knows Simon's a sucker for a pretty little pop ballad."
"Gee, thanks," Archie said.
"Yeah," David said, looking Adam in the eye. "Thanks."
Ryan looked over at Kris, who smiled back.
Nick came over then, full of his usual greetings and high spirits. He didn't have to do much emcee'ing on Saturdays, as the bands took care of themselves, which often meant he'd have a little nervous energy and be bouncing around the back of the room. Scott, as usual, just sat and listened as Nick prattled on about this or that, and Ryan wondered if he knew that all of his shirts were purple, or if this was some weird long-running prank that Nick was pulling on him.
Nick sat down on the bar, as he often did before the place opened, and lit a cigarette.
"Hey," Ryan said, noticing the green pack, "that's Simon's brand." It was downright pavlovian, his body's response to the smell of the weird minty smoke, and his stomach clenched with missing Simon. He cleared his throat, as unobtrusively as possible, and then felt Kris's hand on his shoulder, giving him a squeeze. Always watching him, that Kris, and it made him miss Simon even more, because he did that, too. Simon must have noticed Kris doing that, and sent him to Ryan for that reason.
"Yeah, it's not my usual," Nick was saying. "I'm a Marlboro man if you can believe it. But I'm not going to turn down free cigarettes."
"Free?" asked Adam.
"Yeah, just the other day, Tuesday actually, five boxes of cigarettes turned up in the storage room. Out of nowhere!"
Adam and David exchanged a look, then Adam said, "Nick, do you remember who was around on Tuesday, and could have gone back there?"
"Well, the bathroom is back there, so anyone might have gone in. But Cherry Bomb was playing that night, and I remember Ramiele and Tatiana and Kristy Lee all sharing a table and gossiping about working for Simon. Oh, and you know, Paula was here. I think she's just always liked Carly. That's not so unusual—she comes by, oh, once or twice a month, something like that."
Adam and David exchanged another look, and Ryan couldn't help but think that there was some kind of clue, but he wasn't sure what it was.
Nick looked at his watch. "Okay, let's get things started," he said, hopping down and walking over to the door, where Lil Rounds stood, ready to collect the cover charge. AGT wasn't that large, and the crowds on Sunday night were modest, so only Jorge Nuñez needed to staff the bar. After he walked away, David pulled a little notebook out of his pocket.
"Paula, Ramiele, Tatiana, and Kristy Lee, right?" he asked.
"And all the girls in Cherry Bomb," Adam said, "so that means Megan."
"But—never mind, we'll talk later," David said, noting the people coming in the door, including one Tatiana Del Toro. Adam winced, and fled as the girl made a beeline for Ryan.
"Oh Ryan!" she shouted. "I am so glad to see you!" she said, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Um, hi, Tatiana," he said, hugging her awkwardly. "How have you been?"
"Oh, but how have you been, Ryan?" she asked. "Are you okay? We haven't seen you at the club!"
"Yes, thank you, yes. I have a lot of good friends and all is well."
"Really? Is there anything I can do, anything at all?" She stared at him with her large, round eyes.
"Wow, I really appreciate it but I don't think so. Can you think of anything, Kris?"
"No," Kris said. "Well, I mean—you aren't friends with Anoop, are you? Because we haven't seen him in a while, and we're getting kinda worried."
"Oh," she said, and put a finger to her lips. She beckoned them closer, and stage-whispered, "I used to be more than friends with Anoop! But he made me promise not to tell anyone!" She backed up, her hand over her mouth again, giggling.
"Gee, that wasn't very nice of him," Kris said.
Tatiana scowled, and her eyes were suddenly very dark. "No, it wasn't," she said. "It was very mean of him." Then she giggled again, a little self-consciously, and Ryan wondered what she possibly found funny. "But that is his loss!"
"That's right," Ryan said. "If I dated you, I wouldn't keep it a secret."
"Oh Ryan," she said, hitting him in the chest in a way she no doubt thought was flirtatious but which actually hurt, "you are such a tease! We all know your heart is elsewhere!"
"Well, yes, that's true," Ryan said.
She turned to Kris. "And you?"
Ryan turned, wondering what he would say. He'd noticed a little bit of energy between Kris and Adam, but it didn't seem that anything had happened quite yet. "Oh, Tatiana," he said, "I don't really date girls anymore, I'm sorry." Ryan had to hand it to him—the kid actually sounded sincere.
"Oh well!" she said, and gave Kris a hug anyway, one that nearly knocked him over backwards. "Where is that Adam?" she asked, turning around. "Adam! Adam!" she shouted as she wandered off.
"Wow," Ryan said, turning back to Kris and smiling, but Kris's jaw was set, angrily. "What?" Ryan asked.
"Oh, that Anoop," Kris said. "Seriously, what an ass. I mean, he seems like a nice guy and all, and fun to be around, and then he pulls shit like this?" Kris shook his head. "Never mind that he's got Matt following him around like a puppy dog, and he could put a stop to that if he wanted to, but he doesn't." He shook his head. "What an ego."
"Well!" Ryan said. He didn't know if he'd ever seen Kris this out of sorts—he was usually so easy-going. "Remind me not to get on your bad side!"
Kris's jaw relaxed then. "Sorry," he said. "I just can't stand to see people treated carelessly."
Ryan turned and watched as Adam smiled at Tatiana, actually looking like he was listening to her with interest—if you didn't know what his interested look actually was. Maybe Kris was rubbing off on him. "Then I'm glad you're my friend, Kris," Ryan said.
Then Carly said, "We'd like to end our set by bringing up a friend of the band, who sings a mean rock song—almost as good as I do! Come on up, Adam Lambert!"
There was applause and general shouting, and the crowd parted for Adam, as they tend to do for certain people. Ryan hadn't actually heard Adam sing in a little while, mostly because Simon was still trying to work out what to do with the kid. He didn't fit into an easy category, which made the process a bit trickier and more labor intensive, though Ryan was pretty sure Simon was up to it. A real challenge would probably be good for him.
That is, if he got past the current one.
He hadn't forgotten how exciting it was to watch Adam sing, bouncing around on the stage, punching every lyric, whipping the crowd up with the emotion he put into his performance. Carly didn't play solos often, nor Megan many drum fills, but the whole band rose to the occasion, tight as anything. Unsurprisingly, Kris was the opposite of playing it cool—he was on the floor, dancing and pumping his fist, as was Allison, so Ryan got down off his stool and joined them, and when Adam hit that insane high note they cheered with the rest of the crowd. Ryan watched Kris as the song ended—he was staring up at Adam with a kind of amazed admiration—and wondered if it was just the usual musical crush, or something more. Certainly the two of them worked together well.
Adam's song closed out the set, and Cherry Bomb's set closed out the night, so there wasn't much more to do other than settle up the tab Ryan had started earlier for the three of them, and then chat with Kris while they waited for Adam, who for once didn't take long.
"Hey," he said. "David and Michael are going to help them load out, so we can just go. Where's Allie?"
"I think she's all right," Kris said, nodding across the room. Adam turned, and saw Allie talking to Archie.
"Yeah, I guess so," he said, grinning. "Well, shall we?"
They were home by midnight, pretty early by clubbing standards, and between that and the show they were still sort of wired. Kris made some cocoa, and then Adam said something about wanting to hear a song that Kris had been working on, so they brought Kris's keyboard downstairs and set it up in the living room. Kris sat on a stool, a notebook in front of him, and Adam settled onto the couch next to Ryan.
Like everything else lately, it just made Ryan think of Simon, but in that sweet way that made his heart ache. "Kris, that was beautiful," he said.
"Yeah?" Kris asked. "I got an idea for a string line, actually. You know, if it ever gets recorded. I mean, I got my viola back in Williamsburg."
Adam was smiling. "Of course you play the viola," he said. "Of course you do."
Kris smiled at that. "Anything you want to sing, Adam?" he asked.
"Maybe?" he said, sitting up. "You know that Tears for Fears song, 'Mad World'?"
"Yeah," Kris said.
"I've been playing around with slowing it down."
"Just a little slower—yeah, yeah, like that," he said, and then he got up and stood behind Kris, leaning against the mantle. hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow, no tomorrow, no tomorrow
Ryan sniffled a little. "Wow," he said. "That was, that was really great."
"Oh no, Ryan!" Adam said, coming back to the couch. "We weren't trying to make you cry!"
"It's okay," Ryan said, waving his hand. "Really, it's good."
Kris sat on the other side of him. "Are you sure, Ryan?"
Ryan could almost feel Kris and Adam looking at each other. He felt them close to him down to his bones and god, he was so tired, but he really didn't want to sleep, or fall part, or any of it. "Did Simon put you up to this?" he asked.
Kris grinned. "Kinda. But we wouldn't do anything just 'cause of that," he said.
Ryan sighed.
"Ryan," Adam said, "what do you want?"
Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, and lay his head back on the sofa. When he opened them again he said, "Honestly? I just miss him touching me; he touches me all the damn time. I don't need the sex. It would just be nice to have someone else in the bed. I mean, it's a king sized bed. We can all fit." He paused, then continued, "He really said that?"
They nodded.
"God, he's such a—look, I know about that whole rumor, about all these threesomes we're having? And it isn't really true, not in the way people talk about it, but even if it was—Jesus, Simon. It's just like him to think that this is going to make me unhappy or resentful." He shook his head. "Come on, let's just get undressed and go to bed." He got up from the couch and led the way upstairs.
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