Chaper One: The Box
*Dear Diary, it's been a month since Kris left on his most recent tour; he hasn't called in six days! Does he still love me?*
"That's the question isn't it?" wondered Adam as he laid his pencil aside, closed the book, and then opened it again. He ran his finger over the name,"Kris," and sighed longingly. The marks left by the #2 pencil were a cold replacement for Kris's warm body. This time, he closed the diary and peered out the window. The staccato of raindrops against glass seemed a perfect accompaniment to his pain. He turned away and let the grey mood take over.
Days like these, he needed his crutch. "What'll it be?" he thought as he opened the door to a swell of subtle cold. " Hmmmmm…" he shoved aside a container of fried rice, six bottles of cream soda, and a tub of margarine to reach the familiar red and white bucket. "And what's left in here?" His fingers wiggled in anticipation of the chickeny goodness."Dinner for twelve, my ass . Two breasts? Reaaally? EEWWWWWWW." He pushed the bucket back onto the shelf knocking over a bottle of chocolate syrup and a pint of ranch dressing. He checked the freezer. "OOOOOOH, Ben & Jerry's! Maple Blondie? I think SO!"
Adam settled into the oversized leather easy chair and reached for the remote; it was ten am. "No! NO! It's time for Regis and Kelly! That's OUR show!" Tears streamed down his cheeks as Regis kidded a caller for not answering the day's question correctly. Adam knew the answer…of course. He and Kris had cuddled many times in this old chair to giggle and snuggle. Their favorite game was "Kelly's Talking". Whenever she said something stupid, they tickled each other; oh, they had LOTS of laughs together in this chair! Adam's chin began to quiver, and he noticed that mascara flaked tears had fallen like rain into his ice cream. "Oh what the hell." he whispered. Salty ice cream wasn't bad, after all.
He started as the silence was unexpectedly broken by "Sex on Fire"…KRIS'S RINGTONE! Adam fumbled through the candy wrappers in the pocket of his fuzzy robe to locate his phone, his only connection to his life… his love… his world. " Kris?" he questioned, "Is it you? Is it really you?"
"Yeah, man," answered Kris sounding confused. "Ummmm, I think I pocket dialed you man. I'm sorry, Did I wake you?"
"No Honey." Choked Adam. (Pocket-dialed? WTF? ) "Didn't you mean to call me? Don't you want me anymore? Kris, it's been daaaayyysssss since we talked! I mean, I know that you're a wildly successful international star/supermodel , but don't you have time for meeeeeeeeeeeee? Don't you like my new hairrrr?"
"Look dude, I guess now's as good a time as any…we need to talk."
"TALK? "THE" TALK? It's because I've gotten fat isn't it?" screamed the rawkgawd, not feeling particularly rawk.
" No man,… look…I've gotta go dude. I'll be home in a couple of days after I attend my book signing, dinner with the Obamas, and the Grammy's."
"Okay sweetie, goodbye. I MISSS YOUUUU! " replied Adam, making those cute little kissy kissy noises that his BB loved so much.
"Uh-Huh…." Kris's voice trailed off, then somehow they were disconnected.
He placed the phone back in his pocket, and waddled off to the bedroom. He should probably get dressed, it was almost lunchtime.
Getting himself together after hearing that voice was always the toughest part. His dressing room only served as a display for all the clothes that no longer fit. Suddenly, Adam shrieked, "OH KRIS ALLEN! WHY DO I LOVE YOU SO? WHADDYA WANT FROM MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!111?" He picked up the nearest platform boot and hysterically flung it against a shelf, causing a cascade of feather boas to pool on the carpet. He then tossed aside his plaid robe and pulled on his lavender velour Juicy trackpants and matching jacket. He might be a BIG girl now, but DAMMITTT, he still had PRIDE! He then tossed aside his plaid robe and pulled on his lavender velour Juicy trackpants and matching jacket. He might be a BIG girl now, but DAMMITTT, he still had PRIDE! Feeling spunky in the outfit, he decided to try out an old dance move..."Hmmmm, The AMA performance?" He tentatively wiggled his hips and being only slightly short of breath after that exertion, decided to give it a go. He stuck his tushie as far back as it would go,and gritted his teeth. Pushing his palms forwards, he yelped "I"M JUST HERE FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT!", he then made two fists, and jerked them back quickly as his pelvis thrusted forward. At that moment, he began to teeter...his center of gravity being somewhat changed. "NOT AGAIN!" he screamed as his face rushed toward the carpet. This time, he was quite unable to tuck and roll, so he rocked back and forth until he gained enough momentum to roll onto his side. He felt about the floor underneath his whip and cane rack, until he found something sturdy enough to help himself to his feet. As he took several anticipatory deep breaths in advance of the upcoming energy expenditure, something roughly the size of a Krispy Kreme box caught his eye. "What's THIS?" He thought wiping the drool from his chins. But there were no delectable pastries...this box was metal, and there was a latch on one side. The box was locked.