I know, I know, it's been friggin FOREVER!!! I'm sorry! I am NOT abandoning this, it is not finished, but this chapter is longer. Yay! :) REVIEW PLZZZ KTHXBAI!

So, a brief recap…

It's a dark and stormy morning. I'm dressed like a super glitter fierce bitch, on my way to a Glambert meeting from the top floor of the hotel. I walk into the elevator, go one floor down, then I'm joined by the Head Bitch in Charge himself. After I wiped the drool off my face, I attempted to get a picture with him, but I was distracted when our elevator broke down. I had then basically accused him of being "impersonal" with me, even though he was trapped in a broken elevator before sunrise with some psycho chick that was obsessed with him and he had every right to be just as "impersonal" as he wished. Because of that, there was a moment of awkward silence that I used to thoroughly check him out, but then his belt buckle caught my attention, and that was when he looked over and assumed I was staring at his crotch. In an irrational attempt to persuade him otherwise, I started sobbing hysterically, to which he responded by hugging me, thereby getting my smeary black makeup all over his shirt and my face. Somehow, he felt responsible for fixing the latter, so I spent the next five minutes or so in an Adam Lambert-induced euphoric high while he perfected my makeup using his own personal eyeliner. I looked fabulous afterwards.

Am I missing something? Anything? Because, looking back, that seems like a pretty shitty fan encounter for Adam. So, how on earth is it that I then had a semi-normal conversation with him?

Don't get me wrong, by normal standards, it was still a really weird exchange. But hey, how "normal" can a discussion be between a famous, talented, gorgeous gay man and his crazed fangirl who's desperately trying not to undress him with her eyes? And yet, we somehow managed. Mostly because of his flawlessly smooth way with words and the way his glowing, warm presence made me forget that I had just spent, like, three mortifying minutes blubbering into his shirt.

It began after we finished cracking up over his "devious Glambert" comment that still leaves me breathless when I think about it. He took a moment to step back and really look me over. I basked in the glory of his attention. He smirked a little. "Sooo… an early morning Glambert convention, eh?"

I beamed back at him. "Yup! It's an all-day thing, devoted entirely to worshipping you." I winked at him in hopes of making that statement seem more like a joke and a little less creepy.

Thankfully, he took it as either a joke of a compliment and laughed it off. "Well, isn't that sweet!"

Not as sweet as the sound of your voice.

Whoa! Thank God I didn't actually say that! The sporadic poet within me was getting to be disturbingly bizarre. I just smiled in response. Hey, better than nothing.

To keep from spewing out other hymns of my love and adoration, I imitated Adam's actions and let my eyes very obviously roam over him, trying to look as calculating as he had, and probably failing miserably.

I began, "Sooo… where are you headed to on this lovely morning?"

He chuckled a little. "Well actually, I was headed to the arena."

I raised an eyebrow. "Already? It's way to freakin' early for that, man! Even you don't take that long to get ready!" I bit my lip, terrified that my big fat mouth might have offended him again, but his laughter allayed my fears. "Hahaha! No way! I'm not that high maintenance. Well, not yet anyway." He winked at me, and my heart melted like Jello in a microwave. "I actually leave this early to avoid the paparazzi. I try to stay away from them and the…" he glanced apprehensively at me. I helped him out. "Obsessive fangirls?" He laughed softly, a little relieved probably that I didn't freak out again. "Yeah, them."

I shook my head sympathetically. "Man, those creepy stalker chicks. I don't know how you deal with them."

He nodded in rueful agreement and replied, "Can't live with em, can't live without em."

I suddenly turned to him, eyes wide with shock. "Oh! Did you know that some of them actually try to dress like you? Like with eyeliner and black and glitter stuff?"

He gasped in mock amazement. "Really? No way!"

I nodded enthusiastically, keeping the joke going. "Yeah! And they go to big Glambert conventions where they obsess over you even more, and then they make signs and throw bras at you! How weird is that?!"

He was definitely laughing really hard now. "I know! It's crazy! Absolutely insane. But did you know that some fans are obsessed enough to rent a room in the same hotel as us? Completely wack, right?" He said it with a wicked glint in his eye.

I pretended to gasp in shock. "What! That's just so… so…" I couldn't hold out any longer. I broke down laughing. I collapsed against the side of the elevator and held my sides as I tried to breathe, failing to control myself when I saw Adam doing the same.

I struggled to pull myself together, but not for dignity; I had lost any shred of that a long time ago. I simply didn't want any tears of joy to ruin my makeup once again.

We ended up both sitting on the floor, side by side. It was very comfortable. A blissful moment of silence passed before I turned to him and said, "You know, you're never going to believe this, but we actually booked our hotel room waaay before we knew we knew you'd be staying here."

He turned toward me, eyebrows raised. "Nuh-uh! Really?"

Lips pressed together, I nodded. "Mm-hm. We live, like, hours away from here, so we booked a hotel so we wouldn't have to drive all the way back home after the concert. Since this is pretty much the nicest hotel around, this is the one my dad called as soon as the tour dates were announced."

He smiled at me and I tried not to hyperventilate. "Aww! Your dad's so sweet! And he did that just for you?"

I scoffed, and it came out a little more bitter than I had intended. "What, him? No way. He's here with my mom and my little brother. They're all Gokey fans."

…Wow. I really didn't mean to sound that spiteful. It just happened that way. I bit my lip and turned away slightly. I heard him let out a small, amused sigh. "What's everyone's beef with Danny, anyway? He hasn't ever done anything!"

I gave him the look of "you've got to be kidding me" that I had perfected over my 16 years of life. "Are you serious? He's a douche! Don't question Twitter trends." He looked completely blank at that reference. "Nevermind. It's just, the way he acts, on the show and in interviews, he just seems so… conceited! And big-headed! And egotistical and self-centered… and there was the whole deal about that damn homophobic Myspace video- 'godly love' my ass! And then his cousin's--"

"Okay, okay, enough!" Adam laughed. It did sound a little strained, but when he looked at me, there was an honest twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "We all have our flaws. And yes, he can be… difficult sometimes, but most of the time, he's a really… nice… guy…" Finishing his sentence had proven difficult when faced with my you've got to be kidding me" expression again. Adam relented a little more. "Alright, he's difficult most of the time…" My expression didn't change. Adam sighed again, this time sounding like he was just letting it all out. "Okay. He's a complete dick. Can't stand the guy. Almost blew a gasket when Allison got kicked off instead of him. There." He settled back, looking slightly pleased wit himself, like, yeeeeah, I finally said it out loud! Wooo! Well, those are the words I would use to describe it, anyway. He'd probably prefer something a little more articulate, even this early in the morning.

Pleased with myself for making him actually admit it, I leaned back against the wall, the smile on my face more than a little smug. Adam noticed and smirked wryly. "What, so you're happy that I was stuck in a house with Danny Gokey for months and now I'm living on a smelly, cramped bus with him for the entire tour? Ha! Some fan you are!" This remark could've been extremely damaging to my very soul had it not been Adam Lambert saying it with a spark in his eye and the devil in his grin, but angels in his voice. I gasped a little bit, fought the urge to get completely lost in his face and actually won. I was getting better at this… sort of. Maybe. Well, enough to come up with a decent response.

"No! That's not why I'm happy! It's just… it's nice to actually be right once in a while. Especially with you." Even as he laughed, I realized how silly that comment was. I had only been with him a few minutes. Or had it been hours? I couldn't tell you.

"Really? You seem like you would be right about a lot of stuff!"

OMG Adam Lambert thinks I'd be right about stuff!!! …Wait, what?

I felt extremely happy, and yet very confused. What had he meant with that? I'm sure I could've figured it out eventually, but apparently my expression was perplexed enough that Adam decided to help me out. "You just seem like you'd be a really smart girl. You're pretty witty, you know!"

And devious, my brain added. But I didn't say that. I was simply too thrilled to be existing in that elevator in that moment. He thinks I'm smart!! And witty!! Wait… What?! Surely he was joking. My adoring smile melted into a little chuckle. "You're not serious, are you?" Forgive me if I was just a tad disbelieving. I just seemed to remember acting like a total dumbass. I started to doubt myself when Adam reassured me.

"Of course I am! Most fans that want me naked just try to seduce me and rip off my shirt. You pulled off an entire obsessed, emotional fangirl act and got me to do your makeup and gave me a reason to take off my shirt. Like I said, devious!" he winked at me, grinning like mad. I stared, intoxicated by the fact that he had winked at me… if I didn't know better, I would say he was flirting with me…

Of course, Liz. Because an adult gay man would TOTALLY go for some random teenager in an elevator. I'm jailbait, for crying out loud…

Time to come back to reason. I pretended to be an intelligent person and played along. You know, totally cool. "Yes, you're right! I had it all planned out. Got the hotel, tickets, the act, all in place. I even timed the elevator right so it would break down right when you got on with me." I was pretty proud of my straight face, even though I was drooling on the inside. Adam laughed out loud, still the most heartwarming sound in the history of forever. I tried to keep up the little show and hold back my grin, but apparently I held it back a little too well. Adam glanced at me, and his expression turned apprehensive. "Wait, really? You actually…" His eyebrows were so cute when they furrowed like that…

I broke out into a mischievous little grin, then completely busted out laughing. "Haha! Gotchya! You should've seen your face!" I continued giggling, and he quickly caught back on. "Oh! Ugh, you shouldn't do that to me! It's too early for that!"

I pretended to wave him off. "Eh, don't give me your excuses. I'm just too witty and devious for you to handle."

He was laughing harder with me now. "Haha! So true!"

I looked at him, smiling just enough to let him know that I was still joking when I said, "You know, I really resent the word 'obsessed'. It has really negative connotations."

He looked right back, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. His expression and body language seemed to convey that he was listening intently to me, and only me, and it made me feel really… special. And wanted. And even though I was the only other human being in that elevator, that kind of attention still felt really nice.

This thought process was followed by his kidding reply, "Oh really? Well then, what would be more suitable for your tastes?"

I ignored the answer that a specific part of my body gave to that loaded question and decided to keep up this façade of being a knowledgeable person. "Well, I have a theory."

He gave me a look that said that I was the center of the universe of his awareness. "Ooh, that sounds interesting! And what would this au fait theory be?"

I grinned and replied like I knew exactly what the fancy French phrase meant. "Obsessed is just the word the lazy use to describe the dedicated."

He flashed his very white grin right back. "Okay then! So you're not obsessed, you're just dedicated. A dedicated fan."

"Exactly."

He smiled and laughed softly. "You know, the image that comes to my mind when I think of a 'dedicated fan' is someone who, you know, buys music and posters and wears shirts and goes to concerts… not someone who plots to trap the object of their affection in an elevator on some early morning."

I gasped, pretending to be offended by his kidding again. "What! How dare you suggest such a thing! Would never, ever plot to trap my favorite rock star in the elevator in the early morning!"

"Oh, is that so?" He was so adorable when he was skeptical.

"Yes, it is. I would at least wait until midday. Or afternoon. That way he wouldn't be so cranky and insist on redoing all of my makeup just because it was a little smudged." I copied one of his many endearing expressions and winked, though not nearly as stunningly.

He chuckled. "Hey, I can be cranky if I want to. I didn't get to have my morning coffee." He pouted just a little, and I had to almost physically hold myself back from leaping into his lap and sucking on that jutting lower lip…

Whoooooaah there, Liz! Take it easy!

It wasn't easy, being a hormonal teenager made horny in the presence of a man that exudes sex.

In order to avoid him detecting my abrupt change in mindset, I distracted him (and myself) by playfully slapped his shoulder lightly. "Hah! At least you get coffee at all! I'm not allowed to drink it."

He turned to me, eyes wide, this time with genuine shock. "What! No way! I would die. Really? Why?!" He sounded like someone told him that the world was all out of ice cream. I couldn't hold back a little laugh.

"It's my dad. He says it's bad for you. It stunts your growth, you know." I grinned at him. He was still gaping in disbelief, and I had never seen a more gorgeous gape in my life. Finally, the corner of his mouth turned up, and he giggled a little. "Well, he may have been right. You have a rockin' figure, Liz!"

I blushed from my pedicured toes to the roots of my moussed-up hair. It's true, I was almost five foot ten, and relatively slim, but not what I would call 'rockin'. However, when Adam Lambert calls someone rockin, is there going to be anyone disagreeing?

Certainly not me!

I gasped and tried to reply coherently. "I, uuhh, thanks! I mean, that's really, swice, I mean neet, I mean, nice and nweet, I mean sweet, and,… uuh, thanks!"

Great. Back to the whole stuttering thing. I thought I had been making progress! All of those little steps forward towards being a normal person, completely swept away by that little comment.

I could never get used to this man.

I looked over, and he looked like he was trying to appear concerned, but he just looked like he was trying not to die laughing. "Oh, I'm so sorry honey! Did I embarrass you?"

One of my many flaws is that, in times of emotional crisis, I sometimes turn to sarcasm. And I often regret it. This was about to be one of those situations.

I snapped, "No, why would you think I was embarrassed? I just randomly turn beet red for no reason all the time! It's so much fun!" I immediately put my hand over my mouth and flushed even deeper, if that was possible. Great. So I was back to insulting him now. Just awesome. I never got anything right.

Before he even had a chance to react, I was practically falling over myself apologizing. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! I'm not normally that mean when I'm sarcastic! It just slipped out! I love you! Please don't think less of me!" As I was babbling, I didn't even realize that I was leaning towards him and grabbing his arm until he laughed gently and put his hand over my own. "Relax! It's okay! I'm not offended, I promise." I stared deep into his eyes, searching.

"Really? You sure?"

He smiled back quietly, squeezing my hand. "Yes, I'm sure. There's no reason for you to freak out. It's okay."

I was so relieved, so overwhelmed by it all. I had screwed up everything, it seemed, with the man I loved, and here he was, almost holding my hand, comforting me. I wasn't crying, thank god, but it all just seemed to sweep over me all at once, the magnitude of the situation. The unlikelihood of it all, the insanity, my emotional instabilities. I don't even know how to properly describe it. I just know that all I could do at that exact moment is collapse against his side, and Adam Lambert put his arm around me and held me. It could've been awkward, what with our current positions of sitting against an elevator wall, but we made it work, and I could've stayed there forever. I have no idea how comfortable he was, but I was the most contented, snuggly, secure person in the world right then.

And so we stayed there, just like that, me resting against his side, his arm around me, my hand being enveloped by his, and we both just drifted away in our thoughts. Even though I had only really known his for a while, I felt like I had never been closer to anyone in that moment than Adam Mitchel Lambert.

You like? :) I'm having fun!

So I'm thinking of writing a story parallel to this from ADAM's perspective... thoughts?!

I love you all! So much! Muah!

Review and you get to cuddle with Adam! :) Or you get undying love and affection from me. either one.