Lovegames
An Adam Lambert Story
By Eva B. Rosa
Chapter 1
We met in 2009 during the American Idol tour. It was the best day of my life although we hung out like we were nothing but friends. He didn't even touch me. Yet he wouldn't stop talking. He would talk about everything. He was unreserved, his mind was a mess, and oh, my goodness, his random commentary was so annoying!
Today, I am a musician. My band and I finally made it big after struggling for the last eighteen months. I was the vocalist in my band. Our name is Dark Heaven and people love us. We have fans all over the world. Our videos in YouTube have millions and millions of views and there are too many fan videos on there to count. I am overjoyed as I never thought this would happen. The doors have been shut on my face so many times before. I've been writing song since I was fifteen. My first album has sold over 800,000 copies, not bad for someone that practically just started in the music business. My idol and former lover had nothing to do with it. I made it on my own, I am thankful to say. I never told him I was a musician. He would've thought that I wanted to take advantage of him now that he had just finished American Idol and he was well on his way to superstardom. Therefore I lied to him, making him think that I was an average Joe, just a fan that enjoyed his concert, loved him and wanted to have a meet and greet with him. I must've made quite an impression because he decided to take me and my best Bridgette out to dinner. I will never forget those three days. They changed our lives, both Bridgette and mine, forever.
My best friend Bridgette and I saw a side of him we thought we never would.
Bridgette didn't mind telling you something nasty when she felt she couldn't shut up about something she didn't like about you.
He made a face of disgust at Bridgette when Bridgette noticed a twenty-something-year-old woman that weighed over three hundred pounds and stood at almost six feet tall. The woman took a table with a man I assumed was her husband from the red rose he handed to her.
Bridgette said, "Eww, how disgusting, how can such an Adonis fall for such a mess of flesh so…"
Adam looked up at Bridgette and searched around for the person she could be talking about. He noticed the odd couple, the super-brawny, body-builder type of manly man with the stunning blue eyes and the crooked smile, disqualifying him from being a supermodel but giving him hopes of winning a championship in bodybuilding competition someday. Adam noticed the man's overweight…
Wife. We noticed the ring on the woman's finger too late.
My eyes just widened. A day with my favorite American Idol contestant ever was turning into a nightmare. No more meets and greets for me, even alone! Damn!
Adam couldn't shut up, either. "Come on, like that's so unsightly. Uncommon doesn't automatically mean unsightly, darling."
Bridgette shot back, "What about the disgusting things you used to do on the down low with Kris Allen!"
Everybody stopped to stare at us.
I looked away and when I got up to leave.
"You know nothing of what I do or don't do with Kris Allen, but you ought to know by now what I do," he held my hand to keep me from walking out and then he shocked me by making my mouth his own.
Someone took a picture of us. He was the star. I was the average Joe. What did I care?
He didn't care either. He had personal reasons but he couldn't erase the fact he had signed up for this the moment he first auditioned for Season 8 of American Idol. This was what he wanted, and he was forced to deal with everything that came along with it, good or bad.
Adam even forgot we'd been photographed kissing impromptu! "What about that, dear? Is that disgusting, too?"
She got up. "You just kissed my male best friend in the mouth, with tongue and everything! Look at everyone around us! They can't believe what you just did! You're not an idol, you're a total prick!"
"American Idol is just a title, sweetheart, and I am runner-up, not winner, so I guess that's a sign I wasn't meant to be anybody's idol, now was I? When something that great is taken away from you it's because it wasn't meant for you!"
"You're a better singer than Kris but he's a better man than you!"
"I am not a better singer than Kris, but I totally agree that according to your standards he's a better man than me!"
"You are…"
"Now you're pimping Kris Allen," the overweight woman said to try to defend herself from Bridgette's unjustified attack, "when a few seconds before you trashed him by tarnishing his reputation by confirming he gave in to Adam Lambert, when you don't know shit about what happened between them! I'd rather weigh 500 pounds more than acquiring an extra face!"
Bridgette had to leave the restaurant crying, not being able to believe that it would be two total strangers humiliating her the way they did.
…and subduing me by making me look at human beings on a total different perspective. I was never in love with Adam. He was my idol. I am bisexual, but that doesn't make me a Dirty Diana…or should I say Dirty Don to adapt it more to my gender?
She had been my best friend for over fourteen years and even Adam Lambert couldn't get me to turn my back on her now.
Adam preferred staying with the odd couple to offer just a few words to uplift their spirits again.
I had to deal with one of the worst moments in my friend's life, something she had brought upon herself! Couldn't she have trashed Adam and that woman when we would get back home to Texas? Or when we got back to our hotel?
Why?
"I don't mean to add salt to the wound, but you should've known that with the celebrity we were about to meet and have our entire day with, this could've happened. You should've at least considered the possibility."
"I didn't expect that from Adam Lambert!"
"What did you expect from him, huh? To be gay and then turn around and laugh with you for criticizing overweight people? He's rather laughing at you right now. You should know the difference by now. Everybody back in the day used to laugh at you for thinking your shit didn't stink! I guess some things never change. You made me think you had grown up. All this time you made me think your mind was more open and you were more capable of accepting people just the way they were while still standing your ground and refusing to join into those activities you considered reproachable."
"I…"
"I get you're skinny, but your body's far from perfect. Why would you turn around and criticize a less than perfect body? Are you the most beautiful woman in the world? Do you think that you are? Tell me the truth, Bridgette." He couldn't help starting to cry.
Adam walked out the door and saw them for a few minutes, and then heard every word said from this moment forward.
"That woman weighs 250 more pounds than I do."
"No, she doesn't." Adam walked even closer to us. "I am not a doctor or a nutritionist. I am not a trainer. However it is my estimation she weighs anywhere from exactly 250 to 315 pounds."
"How would you know, Glambert?"
"Because fifteen years ago I used to weigh in at 250-300 pounds," Adam said, arms crossed across his chest.
Bridgette gasped and placed her hands on her hips. "That's why you were overly defensive of her!"
"It goes far beyond that, but being as judgmental as you are I wouldn't expect you to try to delve."
"Bridgette I think we better go back to our hotel."
Adam held his peace.
"I don't want to go anywhere with you now that you crossed the line the way you did, Sebastian."
"Fine," I said. "I guess I'm going to go to the hotel and spend the rest of the day alone. It's better to be alone than in bad company, as we say in my native language."
"Why don't you go to Glambert's hotel here?" Bridgette said in an attempt to take reprisal against us for hurting her ego to the max.
"It wasn't in my plans to take Mr. Guerrero to my hotel. I don't think he wants to go with me to my hotel."
I didn't say anything. It was preferable to hold my peace than it was to lie.
"However I think Sebastian wants to spend a few more hours with me going to random places because this is my holiday after the tour and it ends the day after tomorrow, so being the great friend and the amazing, fun time Sebastian is, I guess he's my best alternative for an average-Joe kind of new friend, taking me back to my days as a non-celebrity."
"I'd go anywhere with you, Glambert. I'd rather be with you than with her, not because I don't care about her anymore, but because it's impossible to be next to her when she's in her Evil Bridgette mode!"
"I thought you loved it when people indulged in letting out their Mr. Hyde at any random moment."
"I do love it when a celebrity does it thousands of miles away from me, but not when my best friend does it while being right next to me!"
We had to walk away from Bridgette.
She looked at us one last time that day, her eyes flooded with tears, thinking the very worst of both of us. She didn't expect this from a man nicknamed Glambert. She expected him to be more like her behind the scenes now that after decades of anonymity, while having all the talent and all it takes to achieve superstardom, the man born Adam Mitchel Lambert had finally been placed on the highest pedestal by millions of people around the world. She expected me to laugh about what she'd done and go on living my life with her like nothing ever happened.
We broke her heart by showing her a side of us that she didn't expect from us and abhorred in other people.
She left in her car. Only time would tell if she would even contact me again.
Adam and I had nowhere to go. He wanted to go to the gay bar, but tonight, he was thinking about me, about what I would've wanted. Taking me to the gay bar would've been indication that he was coming at me strong, cornering me. He didn't want to lose a fan under circumstances so lewd. I wouldn't be able to shut up about it or get over it and his career would be over because he'd be regarded as a pervert making his fans feel unsafe around him.
That wasn't good for any star, gay or straight.
"So where do you want to go?"
In an attempt to turn the tables on him by showing I cared enough to regard his wishes, I said, "How about the nearest gay bar?" with a bright smile on my face.
"That's where I want to go."
"A-ha!"
"But I wasn't sure if I would make you feel uncomfortable by taking the initiative of taking you there. I mean you're straight. Taking you to a gay bar would be in your mind my attempt to try to turn you."
"Adam, I'm bi."
He froze. "I'm sorry?"
I repeated, "I'm bi. I have been to gay bars before. It was in a gay bar that I found out I wasn't straight but bi, although I am much-more inclined to women than I am to other men. I'd have to fall in love with a man to sleep with him."
"How did a gay man assist in your self-discovery as bi?"
"It wasn't a gay man, but a straight one."
Adam pulled back. "This just gets weirder by the hour, doesn't it, Sebastian? What the hell is going on here? First it was the random drama with Bridgette. Then you turn out bi, not straight. To top it all off, it was a straight man that made you realized you were bi and not straight. What planet are you from? Are you even real?"
"Funny because if I didn't know better I would ask you exactly the same thing, except it's been confirmed you're an alien from Planet Fierce." I smiled again.
"Uh…"
I sang the chorus of the song 'How Does it Feel' letting my tone-deafness shine in all its glory.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way. I asked you what planet you were from and said this only got stranger because this is total wish fulfillment for me. That's what makes it unreal. Things didn't go my way in the American-Idol finale night. Since then, the sun's gotten brighter, but this—now this is any gay man's wet dream come true."
I froze now. "Why?"
"Look at you! You're hot! You're the hottest Latino fan I've been this close to. I only found Ricky Martin this scorching-hot before today. I've come across handsome male fans, but I've never gotten right next to them like this before. It never went farther than the autograph and the—"
"You've got a celebrity crush on Ricky Martin?"
"Who the hell doesn't? If he wasn't such a family man, I would seek him out."
"We both know that would be the end of Ricky Martin because let's face it, once we get a hold of you, it's hard to let go. If you don't believe me try asking Kris Allen."
"You know about me and Kris?"
"Don't get me wrong. I won't tell anyone what I know. I'm not a destroyer of dreams. We better leave that to Simon, for him to crush dreams with his piercing words. I saw pictures of you kissing. He was a lot more into it than you were. I wouldn't classify him gay considering he's been with his wife since high school, but in his situation the term bi would be far more fitting."
"This is where I end the conversation about that man."
"That was totally random. I am sorry."
Chapter 2
"You didn't mean it for this conversation to get this deep, so apology is not needed. Let's just forget about Kris…and about Bridgette, just for one night. This is our star-fan night. Let's make the most of it knowing how ephemeral those nights are."
We got back into his car and left the middle of the street, standing in front of a coffee shop in which we'd had a pastry together, but that situation still remained a star-fan kind of relationship, nothing further.
We arrived at the gay bar and paid for our time there. The music was loud. They were playing the 2009 version of 'Careless Whisper' by Seether.
He was right. This only got weirder. I am not by any means religious but I was starting to become just that because the devil himself must've been pulling our strings.
Rather than dancing to the song, which would've sent chills and then electricity up and down my spine, we just sat down and had some rum. "I don't mean to bring up Kris again, but do you think I could make you forget about your failed relationship with him?"
"There's nothing to forget when it comes to Mr. Allen. He denied me in front of the whole world. He said he loved me and became gay for me, doubting his heterosexuality and confirming his homosexuality. I can't deny I felt flattered when I read the transcript of that interview, but then I knew it was all a pile of horse shit. For over six months that prick has been chanting to the whole world we're nothing but friends, and I've got a crush on him, but he's a family man and he'd never act upon that crush."
"Bullshit."
"Exactly, so since what we had was nothing but my wet dream, there is nothing to forget about. It didn't happen because he swears up and down it didn't happen. That's why I don't want to talk about Kris because it's a waste of time. He kept complaining to the press how messy I was and how as a result we didn't get along."
"We both know you guys got along better than one could even start to imagine."
"Exactly! It's no use wasting your breath talking about someone you didn't mean anything to, is there? Let's talk about someone that cares a lot more about me. Tell me how many posters of me you have in your room."
"Just one. I am twenty-five and it's not adult behavior to swarm your walls with pictures of your idol to show your friends and acquaintances how passionate you are about that person. One big-ass poster in the middle of the room, in the biggest wall, is more than enough for them to classify you as a hard-core Glambert."
Adam smiled. "That's great. Did you tape my performances?"
"Yes, I did. Don't tell anyone because that might put me in jail."
"I don't think taping TV shows breaches the copyright-infringement line unless you redistribute the content. Otherwise, all devices that have ever been used to tape TV shows would be illegal to use and therefore the supplies of that would be limited, or the device would have to be too expensive to purchase, hoping to deter people from buying the device to record TV shows."
"Really, what do you think about DVD burners and the like?"
"I think CD and DVD burners were used to view original recordings or meant to be used, rather, to back up files the computer user has created. I think they've been horribly misused, too, as the devices I mentioned before were also meant to record shows one has missed or one likes too much not to record, except people do redistribute such recordings! So I guess my point is it all depends on the use you give to such devices."
"What about MP3 downloads?"
"When one downloads an MP3 file for free that the original owner hasn't published on a website for free use, one is indeed breaching the copyright-infringement line. I hate it when people do that. Every artist does. Yet we can't stop it. It's like watching someone destroy something that means the world to you and not being able to do a damn thing about it."
"I don't download MP3's for free. I used to."
"Who got you to see the error of your way?"
"My favorite American Idol contestants did."
"Who are those?"
"Season 8."
"You felt passionate enough about us to stop your illicit music downloading."
"I decided I was too passionate about you and Allison to continue to download music online for free. I admit I did download MP3 files of your performances, but then I would feel guilty and erase them from my hard drive. After watching your performance of 'Cryin', I threw my laptop out the window and had to buy another one."
"Ahhh…"
"My laptop is in my hotel room, but I can access my iTunes account from any computer, and if I accessed it from your computer you would see my music purchases. I wouldn't download them into your hard drive, but the file registries are in the account."
"How many dollars worth of music?" He was really leaning forward now, eyes widened, mouth open, not because he wanted to kiss me.
"I have over $200 worth of music in there."
"Wow, I didn't know a fan could go to those lengths, to regret downloading music for free online and be willing to wait to either purchase the content online or wait to get enough money to buy it at his or her local store."
"I love you."
"I know you do. All I have to do to confirm it is to see for myself your music purchases. When you buy music knowing you could get it for free, and you care enough about the artist not to take the easiest way out, that's love."
"You don't understand. Te amo." I didn't hold his hand because I didn't want to press certain buttons and wind up regretting doing something that wasn't in my plans. Yet everything seemed to be in his favor and against me.
"I know that's another way to say 'I love you' but would you enlighten me as to what you mean? I mean I know when you say it in English one's obligated to ask you in what way you love them. In Spanish, however, you have to ask, not 'in what way' but 'what do you mean'?"
I had to hold his hand.
He looked down at our hands, gasping and looked up at me. His demeanor changed so much when I looked into those eyes that enamored millions, I had to pull back. I was starting to shed tears. How corny. No ex partner had made me cry before unless we were in bed, it got too far and we couldn't deal with it.
Damn…
"Do you understand now?"
"Yes, I do." He got up.
I got up. "I don't date celebrities. I'm telling you straight up, right now. I am just telling you how I feel. I don't expect any sort of reaction. Let's just pretend I said the variation of 'I love you' that expresses that you care about someone. Care. I care about you."
"Relax, amigo, I have to go to the bathroom. I drank too much rum."
"You only had…"
"I went ahead and drank yours, too."
I gasped. Oh, Dios mio! The devil is at work when it comes to us! I don't think I could ever be another Kris Allen or another average Joe…they were used to it, so they survived, but how the hell did this man's acquaintances survive their first encounters with this devil? He comes on to his love interests way too strong! He responded to my unintentional advances and he's seducing me.
He went right to the bathroom. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, he stopped playing dumb and turned to look right back at me, with that smirk, on his way there, like he was inviting me to follow him!
Forces beyond my control made me sit right back down. My breaths quickened. I was starting to lose my inhibitions. Drinking with the first idol of mine that became a true love interest in a lapse of one day, that wasn't a good idea, not at all.
Then I had to go to the bathroom, too. There was only one bathroom in the bar for each sex.
Oh, my goodness. I couldn't hold it in. My bladder would burst. I had to care more about my health than about my feelings.
I had to care more about my health.
So I went right to the bathroom, confident his desire to do the number one was genuine and he wasn't playing mind and love games with me at the same time.
Everyone thought he was this adorable angel. I was about to find out the hard way if he was or confirm once and for all he was really a demon Satan had sent from hell with the sole purpose of destroying my soul, enslaving me, entrapping me in some kind of sick voodoo spell.
When I arrived at the bathroom, he had gone to take care of his business inside the stall. He hadn't lost all his inhibitions, otherwise he would've used the urinal, knowing he was lucky to be alone in there, just for these first few minutes.
Yet I had to use the urinal or I would've gone right in my pants.
Bummer…
When he finished and left the stall, he gasped when he saw me urinating. This should've been normal to him. After all, gay didn't always mean perverted. It all depended on the person, as I was taught since I was a child. I had been raised in a liberal home in a sense I was taught it wasn't my problem what other people did as long as I didn't do it, and if I didn't, I would be fine.
My parents' reaction was unexpected when I revealed myself as bi. I thought they'd kick me out of the house. I was sixteen. My father's words didn't go beyond, "Don't forget to protect yourself at all times."
I was floored. They turned out more free-spirited than I thought. I was blessed.
Now…
He still didn't touch me, but he knew he couldn't play innocent again after what he'd done just a few minutes ago.
He was deliberate in his intent to make me admire him even more.
What a…I had run out of words to describe this E. T.
I pulled it in and zipped it up. I hadn't finished urinating.
"It's all right. I know you weren't done. I interrupted you. I'll just go outside." So he did.
I freed it again and finished peeing. With my bladder empty, I zipped it up again. I came out of the restroom.
"You don't have to act all star struck around me, you know. You're treating me like I'm some sort of god."
"It's not like you'd go out of your way to prove to me you're not, is it?" This was a defense mechanism. No man had tamed me. Adam Lambert would not be the first. I wouldn't be his next victim. I'd rather died!
Chapter 3
We left the bar. Trying to make him forget about my rhetorical question I said, "So I guess this is where we call it a night."
"You're quite the tease, aren't you, Sebastian?" His hands were on his hips. "I mean you're not the first one to say 'te amo' to me. Thousands of fans say the exact words meaning the same thing every day. That wasn't what got to me. What got to me was the way you looked at me just now. The way you held my hand just now and you didn't even know what you were doing. You're saying goodbye after seducing me."
"I didn't seduce you."
"At first you made it clear you only preferred to date non-celebrities. I was okay with that. I admired that attitude in you. Then I turn to look at you to let you know I'll be right back and my bodyguard's not going to threaten you into leaving while I'm in the restroom to help me wash my hands of you. I don't do that to people, much less to fans. However it pisses me off when other people do it to me, saying they care about me and then trying to run away from me like they never even exchanged words with me. You're doing what Kris Allen did!"
I gasped. "I'm sorry…I am not the type to blame it on the alcohol. I…" I made the mistake of walking closer to him.
He looked right at me, piercing me with those peppermint-disc-colored eyes again.
"Come on, man, I don't know what I was thinking. You're right I acted just like Kris. I didn't mean to play games. I thought you were the one playing games."
"You don't have to say it. It shows. You're acting like Bridgette too."
"Come on, man…" I started to cry. "I'm sorry, I know I was an asshole. I don't play games with people. I know mind games and love games get us burned to the ground. I don't…how can I make it up to you? I'd do anything."
He gave me a hug. Our faces were too close. My own love games were about to get me burned to the ground. His hands were holding my face now. This was what he did when he was about to… "You are sure you'd do anything to make it up to me? Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying. Perhaps this is happening because I was much too sincere." I wasn't lying about what I'd just said, but about who I was, which made things much worse.
"OK. Where do we go now? It's close to the time where all public-service places close down for the night. Do you want to go work it out with Bridgette?"
"My phone hasn't rung in the over three hours we've been here and in the over six hours we've been away from her. I hurt her pride way too much this time. Odds are she's seeking out a friend that sucks up to her more and will make her think, at all hours of the day, that she is indeed the last can of Coke in the middle of the desert, even when she knows that person doesn't mean it…"
"I went too far comparing you to her. You're not conceited, just vicious when you think someone's taking you for a ride or attacking you."
"That doesn't make it any better or justify."
He placed his index finger right on my lips. "So if you're not going back to your hotel…do you want to come with me to my hotel after all?"
I nodded.
A few hours later, we were back in his hotel. He paid for one more night and he paid for my room, a new room, rather than inviting me to his room. I continued to lure him and push him away time and time again, and while it was notable he enjoyed love games, he abhorred mind games, and he was letting it show.
He was twenty-seven at the time, too old for that.
I was twenty-five. I should've known much better than this.
When it was time for each one of us to go to our rooms, I didn't let him shut the door to his room. I held his hand.
He pulled me right in with him, shut and locked the door. "What kind of man are you in another man's room, huh?" He pulled me much closer to him now. There was no room for anything between our bodies.
"I don't know."
"You don't? I am still middle class and I care too much about my hard-earned money to watch it go to waste like this, so if you're not going to use your room that I just paid for you better go out of your way to make me get over the fact I just spent $500 in your four-star room. I have a four-star room, too, as you can see. I am not a millionaire yet and I am not going to live like one until I become one. I don't mind, it's just $500, but it wouldn't feel this horrible if you had changed your mind and told me you wanted another room instead of coming into my room."
"I'm playing with you again, aren't I, Adam Mitchel? How does it feel to lay in the bed you made before with your sex partners?"
"It wouldn't hurt this much if you hadn't just told me you loved me." He shed tears.
"Eh…"
"When I don't love a dude, I let him know straight out it's just sex, nothing more. When I do love a dude I go out of my way to show it. I don't tell the dude I love him and scorn him the morning after. When I say Te amo I mean it. When I say the other variations of I love you in your language, I also mean it. When it's desire I express it, too, saying 'I want you', instead of 'I love you'. Do you get it?"
"This is weird."
"Yes, it is. I can tell when someone's talking out of their ass and when they mean what they say to me. When you told me you loved me, I could tell that you meant every word. You almost cried saying to me Te amo. Now you're trying to push me away? If you don't want me and want to keep it platonic instead, it's not a problem, but don't come in my room to keep…"
I held his face in my hands and kissed him. Our tongues danced like they had with other people few times before. He held me tighter and the next thing I knew I was pinned to the door my back facing him.
He started kissing my cheek and then he whispered in my ear, squeezing my backside, "Are you adamant in not dating a celebrity?"
I only meant to look at him in the eyes again to respond like I had been taught—to look other people right in the eyes every time I spoke to them.
He kissed me again. "If you don't want to date, that's fine. Men and women are not objects we own any time we want and then drop like they're trash. Still, there is something I want, something you've already offered me and are now trying to take away. I won't let you do that." This time he just stayed right next to me, just talking. "I have never allowed a man to get away with teasing me and leaving me there. If I can grab at his hand to stop him, don't doubt I don't hesitate. I'd have to not see it coming to let it happen."
"This is too much for me."
"Why, because I'm a celebrity?"
"If I had met you and we had both been average Joes, I'd feel exactly the same way."
"Why, because I am too hot for you to resist me?" He laughed. "Come on, man…"
"The answer to that is yes."
He pulled away. Getting corny was the only way to get him the hell away from me. I was feeling accosted. "Oh, come on," he sat on the bed. "Get real, dude. Obviously there's something in me that attracts men, but that doesn't mean by any means that I can have any dude I want when I want him. I've been told no too many times to think that I am this super-hot, irresistible…"
I walked closer to him, got right next to him in the foot of the bed, placed both hands on the bed, leaned over just a little and said, "What if I said that you are just that indeed and I showed you that there's nothing you could do to convince me of the contrary?"
He looked right up at me again and retained that physical position he was in. He only became more of a devil with every minute that went by. I was starting to see a side of my idol no one knew and everyone was afraid of with good reason. "I'd tell you that you're full of it." He smiled.
"You do mean that."
"Yes, because too many men have used those exact lines to bed me." He retained his bright smile.
"So when I tell you how much I love you, you're convinced I mean it, but when I tell you I want you, I'm full of it."
I was starting to hate that provocative smile, and him, because he said, "Yes."
"What do I have to do to show you?"
"What do you think?"
I ate at his mouth again like I had been starving for true food for several months and I had been offered a delicious Whopper sandwich, and was now devouring it. I adored Whopper sandwiches. It was starting to show just how much in my not-so-flat stomach. Thinking about this jackal made me eat myself into oblivion, like I was doing with his mouth right now.
I was too into it to notice he was unbuttoning my pants. The cold air that came in made me notice. I pulled away, looking down, gasping. "You asshole!"
He laughed. Then he got up, pulled me by the hand, sat down in the bed again, and when he was about to…
I said, "Stop."
He grabbed me firmly at the waist.
I tried to take his hands away from me, but when I grabbed at them to take them away from my body, he got up.
I started to cry.
"Why are you crying?" His face had turned into a face of horror now.
"It's not that I think you're trying to force me to do something I don't want to do. I do want to. I'm just scared. I'm not accustomed to conquering men and overpowering them. It's a 'what will be, will be' kind of thing. I am neither active nor passive. I respond to the situation accordingly. If I'm too weak to play around, I'm passive, and if I want him too much and I have to show him just how much, I'm active. I'm not afraid of the act. It's not like I've been with several men. In reality I can count my male sex partners with the fingers of one hand. What I am afraid of is what's going to happen next."
"You're afraid I'm going to turn around and do to you what Kris and so many other men did to me."
"Yes. I don't even think there have been that many men."
"You're right. I'm just being corny, like you."
"Who said a man couldn't be corny when he couldn't help it?"
"It's not about your gender. It's about your age. It's only acceptable when you're playing a character in One Life to Live. You're not Rex Balsom of said soap opera. You're Sebastian Guerrero, a real-life man. Act like it."
"So this kind of talk is only acceptable to you if I were fifteen."
He nodded. "You're twenty-five, too old to talk like that, and I am twenty-seven, too old to hear it and not roll my eyes."
"What if I insisted in annoying you by saying that you somehow get me to talk like that? You could ask any of my exes, male or female. I didn't even talk to my ex girlfriends in this way. I would say to them that I loved them, and I would mean it, sure, but I wouldn't annoy them by saying it over 1,000 times in one day like I was retarded or 'full of it'. To me, telling them I loved them once a day, just so they didn't forget, was more than enough."
"You're not the asshole you were starting to show me that you were." He smiled.
For the first time since I came across my first sex partner, Phyllis, my heart skipped a beat—for real. I knew it. I wasn't talking out of my ass when I told him I loved him. This was love indeed, real love.
Chapter 4
Still it felt like we were playing love games.
He said to me, "So do you want this or not? Come on, stop playing games with me. I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do, but at the same time I mean business. When I am in a bedroom with another dude and we're more than friends, we're going to do it, not play around."
I started to dress again.
He got the message loud and clear. "OK, so if you're not going to do anything, get out of my room."
"I'm afraid you don't understand, man."
He got up. "What is it that I have to understand, the constant yes, no, yes, no? Come on, man, make up your mind."
I walked closer to him and kissed him.
He pushed me away. "Don't do that. I was right. You do love me, but for some reason you're afraid to have sex with me. My guess is that what you feel for me is platonic, like you don't really want to—"
"Adam…"
He didn't let me talk. "Don't get me wrong. Like I said I appreciate that kind of non-lustful love, if that's what's going on here. Not every fan that's in love with me wants to take me to bed. People love in different ways. However, I am confused because you're playing me and I don't like to be played, so I am going to give you one more chance to make up your mind. If you don't want to do anything, get out of my room and go to your room that I paid for."
"So that's the way it's going to be, huh?"
"That's the way it's got to be. This wasn't in my plans in the first place. All I wanted was to hang out with two people that I thought were my fans and really cared about me and share my days off with my fans. I don't think I need to remind you that you told me you loved me, a gesture I interpreted as fanatical and nothing more, and then you held my hand, all the kisses you just shared with me. I thought you wanted to do something more."
"I do."
"Then why don't you? Don't get the wrong idea about me, Mr. Guerrero. I am not accustomed to sleeping with my fans. I'm not going to lie and tell you that if we went through with this, you'd be the first fan I've slept with. All I'm saying is that I don't make a habit of it. I did sleep with another fan, but he didn't do the things you're doing right now. He never even told me he loved me, not the way that you just did. He said that he loved my music and that I was the sexiest and hottest star ever, and he wanted to have sex with me, so we did. I just don't appreciate…"
Verbal communication wasn't working, so I had to come up with a plan to make him understand what was going on because it was clear that his notion was that I was a player, a player of the worst kind because I would do this with both men and women.
I kissed him again.
He tried to push me away, but I held him tight and continued to eat at his mouth. He relented and we continued to kiss for a good ten minutes. I decided not to say one more word to him because I learned the hard way that when one talked too much to the other person in this situation, things got ugly, because we would either wind up doing nothing and the person didn't want anything to do with me afterward, or I would end up roughed up when I played this senseless game with other men.
I thought Adam Lambert would get sick of me dragging him along and force himself on me, but he wasn't that kind of guy. When it came to this, I perceived him to be more sensitive, like he had to be sure that you wanted him before doing anything, and when you said yes and then said no, he would just get turned off. I couldn't let him get turned off after turning him on, so I decided to go through with it. It was now or never. I had to take action because I'd never get this chance again.
Now it was he that wouldn't let go of me. We broke the kiss and I was out of breath. My bladder was getting full and I couldn't stop quivering. No other man had made me this fearful.
"Adam, may I use your bathroom?" The desire to do the number one was too overpowering and I was doing that dance now, stomping my feet repeatedly and then tightening my legs. I had to go now.
"Sure," he said.
I went straight to the bathroom, closed the door and undid my pants to do what I had to do right now. I was so desperate I forgot to lock the damn door. I didn't even hear the door open. The next thing I knew, strong arms were wrapped around me. I pulled my head back.
He whispered in my ear, "I don't mean to be an asshole," he said, helping me to redo my pants, "but I decided after all I don't want to do anything, but I'm still hugging you because I love you as a fan. Still I don't want to ever see you again."
Dressed, I turned around and said, "I know it's my fault. I don't usually blame myself, in fact I seldom do, but I know that this time what happened is indeed my fault. If I was afraid of going through this with you, I shouldn't have led you on. I should've kept my lustful feelings for myself and kept this strictly a normal interaction between a fan and his favorite superstar. I've never been afraid of having sex with anyone before, but I can't…"
"I know, and I hate making you feel that way. That's why it's got to end here, and you can only see me again on TV or on your computer. If you want to come to my concert and do a meet and greet and all that's fine, too, but don't make it obvious there was sexual tension between us. We'll never get this close again. It's either yes or no, you know, it can't be both because it makes me feel uncomfortable, like I'm doing or I'm about to do something terrible."
We shook hands and I got out of his room. It was better this way.
One year later, Dark Heaven's first music video debuted on YouTube, uploaded by our record company, Andromeda.
I don't know how Adam Lambert found out, but he left us a message on our official Facebook page congratulating us. I was under the impression that Adam hardly had time to watch anything on YouTube, so when Nate showed me Adam Lambert's private message, posted from his official Facebook page, my heart skipped a beat when I read the message from Nate's laptop because Bridgette had kept my laptop and never gave it back. I refrained from buying another laptop to remind her that she had taken something from me. I was rancorous like that, and she noticed it because Bridgette and I never looked in each other's eyes again.
Even my band mates didn't know what happened between me and Adam Lambert in his hotel room. I knew they would get the worst concept of me as a man and as a person overall, and I wouldn't have even the minimal right to blame them.
Nate said, "How about that?" with a bright smile on his face, his face toward me, looking me right in the eyes. "Adam Lambert saw our video and congratulated us. Look at his message. He said our video's great, one of the best he's ever seen!"
Nate was thrilled about the tremendous compliment, but I didn't see it with the same eyes. I thought this was Adam Lambert's attempt to stick it to me to get back at me for what happened between us, like he couldn't get over the fact I offered everything and gave him nothing. That was my interpretation of the whole thing because that was exactly what I did when I got led on like that and then dumped. I hadn't raped any of the love interests that had done that to me, but I would continue to contact them to annoy them, to remind them that they left me all hot and bothered and didn't give a damn, and I didn't take it well at all.
"I thought you were Adam Lambert's fan. Doesn't his gesture flatter you? What's going on?"
I had to lie. After all I still loved him and I couldn't do anything to tarnish his reputation because my way of loving would become dubious. I loved playing games with people sometimes, lovegames, but I wouldn't stab someone I loved in the back like that. Adam Lambert was a superstar, but everyone knew he was my favorite one, that no male singer had impressed me the way Adam did. I had never recorded the performances of any other male artists, just females, like Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera. "I'm just shocked. I can't believe he cared enough to congratulate us."
Nate's face of preoccupation disappeared and his smile reappeared. "We made quite an impression. We've gotten messages from other artists, but this is huge. I am a hardcore Glambert fan, too. I just don't like him the way it's obvious you do."
"What do you mean?"
"With you it's more than simple admiration." He retained his smile saying the words, making me get chills up and down my spine, like he was unmasking me in a crowded room. "You're in love with one of the biggest American Idols ever."
"Nate…"
"You don't have to be ashamed of it. It's only natural. I mean the man makes me so green I look like broccoli. I know if I were that hot I'd get all the girls. It's a paradox. Usually it turns girls off when they're attracted to a man and they find out he's gay, but Adam Lambert is the only celebrity that I know of at least, that turns the girls on even more and makes them wish he were at least bisexual, well Adam Lambert and Ricky Martin."
"Yes, Ricky Martin is another hottie, but Ricky Martin is a family man, so that's different. I wouldn't touch him."
Nate smiled again. "Don't dare to tell me you wouldn't touch Lambert either if you got the chance because if you do, I will punch your face in. I hate it when people lie to me knowing they're lying."
I cleared my throat. Should I tell him? What would he think of me? Would the whole band lose their trust in me and deem me as the most shameful player ever? I decided my reputation was too important, so I didn't tell him what already didn't happen, but what I would do. "If I got the chance, I would bed Adam Lambert, but not Ricky Martin. I respect Ricky's babies too much, and he loves Carlos Gonzalez. As far as I know Adam doesn't have anyone that he cares about very much right now and if he does have a relationship, he doesn't take it seriously. I mean he's kissing Ratliff on stage all the time, and his fling with Kris Allen cost Kris his marriage."
"That's true. Do you understand what this means, though? These superstars are promoting us! They're promoting our music just by posting our first music video on their walls! We're finally going to get the recognition we deserve! We made it, Guerrero! We made it!" He couldn't help it. He got up and gave me a huge fraternal hug. He wouldn't do this unless he couldn't contain his emotions.
Nate left me alone in the room. I was conflicted in whether I should send Adam a private message or not, just thanking him for being nice enough for actually posting our video on his wall directly from YouTube, rather than just congratulating us, just a few minutes after sending me a PM. I was probably wrong in thinking that he had an ulterior motive in doing this. I couldn't chicken out. If I wanted to reply to his PM, I had to do it. I was sick and tired of not doing what I wanted to do when I felt so strongly about it. To me that was like dying of thirst and not getting a drink of water. I had to be a man and show that I was one, so I replied.
I wrote, Thank you, Adam, for being one more artist to promote our music. My band members are happy. We're finally going to make it big thanks to you, Katy Perry, Rihanna, and all those artists that posted our music video to their walls.
I went no further. I didn't want to remind him about what happened between us. He'd think I was leading him on again.
He got my message several days later and cared enough to reply, but it amazed me to see him also acting like nothing had ever happened.
The message read, You guys make great music. This song is killer and it has to be promoted. You really impressed us, all of us. We know you're going to make it big. You deserve it after so many years of hard work. My feelings about this are strong because all these years I'd embarked on different projects including Wicked, and it wasn't until I first auditioned for American Idol Season 8 that my name was known. Sincerely, Adam Lambert.
I shed tears. I wanted to tell him that I cared about him and I couldn't. I had lied too many times. I'd been too mean to him, making random and senseless comment about his love life, which in reality I knew nothing about, making him look like the worst man in the world who was accustomed to loving men and leaving them, and doing things that were even worse behind the scenes. I had professed my love for him and then talked too much shit. I had to keep my feelings to myself this time.
Today, he's sharing his life with the super-nice Sauli Koskinen, and I am left wondering what would've happened if I had acted on my feelings, wondering if it would be me on his bed today instead of Sauli. I was Adam Lambert's hardcore fan still, and he adored him too much for me to have the heart to even wish they were apart. I had no right. I loved him too much as well to do such a thing.
THE END.