A.N: So...yeah. As it turns out, listening to Aqualung's 'Strange and Beautiful' on repeat (hence the title) will result in writing oneshots about crazy stalkers. This is another story set in the amazing CP Coulter's Dalton-verse, this time about Adam Clavell. He's a creepy-as-hell character, but as I was writing this, I realized he was fascinating in his own way. I hope I did his crazy justice...thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: This is fanfiction-of-fanfiction, and the characters belong to CP Coulter. I own nothing.
I'll Put a Spell on You
Perfect.
The first time Adam notices Julian—really notices him—that's the word that comes to mind. It doesn't matter that he's seeing him through a television screen; from that first moment, Julian Larson starts becoming more than just the boy playing Grant. Everything about him just feels so genuine that he seems to transcend the screen. Julian seems so real, alive, and so, so beautiful.
He sees Julian in person for the first time, and everything—everything—changes. It had been a crowded event, but he'd managed to make his way through the front. The actor had turned his head slightly, and their eyes had locked for a brief instant before Julian smiled and signed the photo Adam had handed him. It hadn't lasted long—he eventually turned back to his other fans—but for Adam, that was enough.
Adam starts hanging on to every word 'Grant' says on the show, every subtle emotion that passes through his face. He knows Julian's just following a script, but somehow Adam feels like Julian's not just saying lines, he's giving a message—to him. It's like Julian knows they have a connection too, and is trying to reach out to that boy he smiled at through his acting. It's an exhilarating feeling, seeing Julian like this towards him and not some idiotic, squealing fangirl, and the more Adam learns about him, the more he's convinced that he's perfect.
It's more than love. 'Love' doesn't seem adequate enough to describe what this is. It's not 'want' either—no, this feeling, this all-consuming emotion that's taken over him feels like need. Like air and water and food, slowly Julian is becoming one of the things he can't live without.
Julian's in his life now. It's not long before Adam starts thinking of ways to keep him there.
He knows everything about Julian Larson-Armstrong. He always does. So when he finds out about Julian's new movie offer, he's furious.
An on-screen marriage? No way, that is completely unacceptable. Adam knows the drill: the 'marriage' will cause a media frenzy, and people will start speculating that Julian and the slut who thinks she's good enough to be his wife on film are really together. They'll be seen together at all times to promote the movie, and maybe they might even date for awhile to please the producers or themselves. It's typical Hollywood and it disgusts him, because he knows who Julian's really meant to be with, and it's Not. Her.
The addresses aren't that hard to find, and the emails and letters are even less hard to write. Adam doesn't threaten Julian—he could never do that. He just reminds the actor to be careful, to remember their connection every time he makes a decision. Julian always seems to be forgetting who he really belongs to, so Adam takes every opportunity to remind him (mineminemineminemine.) It worries him, how Julian doesn't seem to care, so eventually he starts pointing out that if Julian continues to ignore him, there will be consequences.
Something bad always, always happens whenever you try to mess with fate. Julian messes with it anyway, and Adam knows he has no choice.
He's at Dalton within a week.
He seems them often, the Stuart trio in all their glory. Of course, mostly he just stares at Julian, and it's a mix of pleasure and pain because he can see what that blond, stupid Senator's son is too blind to. Adam doesn't miss the looks Jules shoots Logan Wright's way sometimes, the one that's all glare and snark on the surface, but beyond them is nothing more than longing and affection.
He should be looking at me that way.
The Valentines Fair pretty much confirms his suspicions. He'd like to forget the whole thing ever happened because of that confirmation, but he can't because there's no forgetting that electric feeling that had shot up his spine when he first grabbed Julian's wrist. It sickens him, this little crush Julian has on Logan. That blond pretty-boy doesn't deserve someone like Julian, wouldn't know how to make him happy.
The trio has a fight, and of course he follows Julian when he stalks off. "That was pretty intense," Adam remarks casually. "What's up with you and Logan? I thought you were friends."
"Can the world not be about Logan Wright for one minute? God," Julian snaps, rubbing his temples. A second later, he sighs. "Sorry."
"It's okay," he replies with a shrug. "Seriously though, you can talk about it with me. I could help—"
"Yeah, well right now, you aren't," Julian says harshly. "Leave it alone, Adam. I don't wanna talk about this."
"But you and Logan—"
"Shut up, okay?" Julian says, the anger in his voice sudden and strong. "Look, it's great that you saved me, but I'm not about to yap all my problems to some fan I only met today. It's none of your business." And with that, the actor storms off.
Adam stares at his retreating figure, feeling the anger slowly simmering within himself. Some fan I only met today. Why does he keep forgetting? Why does he always—it's then he realizes that he has to start doing what he came here to do. Julian can't keep paying attention to everyone else but him. He can't just dismiss Adam like this, and he sure as hell can't just walk away from him.
Julian just doesn't learn, does he?
He takes a deep breath, calming himself. Maybe this time, he will.
It's late at night now. Red-stained fingers trace the outline of defined jaw, those lips that are as perfect as the rest of him. Adam sighs, staring into the brown eyes that are sparkling back at him.
Perfect. So perfect.
He hopes Julian understands the message. Julian Larson cannot leave, not when Adam's already here; not when the person he's really meant to be with is so close within reach. There's a lot less standing in his way now. He's here, and that makes everything easier.
Soon, he promises himself. I'll make him see—this is for his own good. He'll be mine, and we'll be together, just like it's supposed to be.
It's with that thought that Adam sinks his head onto his pillow and closes his eyes. He breathes in deep, whispering a goodnight to the other side of the bed, fingers still splayed across the face beside him, staining it red.
(The dark makes it so easy to imagine he's touching warm skin instead of the cold surface of a glossy photograph.)