17
Pacey
“Pace.”
I felt someone grab my arm.
I turned.
It was Adam.
I was surprised to see him backstage, and before I could ask him how he got back there, he shoved me against the wall. The back of my head knocked against it, and Adam had pressed his lips on mine.
I closed my eyes, overwhelmed with sensations, feeling his plush lips onto mine.
His rugged beard brush against my cheeks. Then, I felt his hand run on my ribs and he squeezed me tight.
I opened my eyes in shock and saw that it was really Adam kissing me. Then, I closed them again to fall back into the trance he put me in.
He let out a growl as he pressed his lips harder onto mine. His stubble chaffed against my clean shaven face.
My breath shortened into gasps for air. The back of my head ached from the impact on the wall.
He pulled away just for a second. His eyes were half-opened as he looked down onto my lips, before he dove right back in, this time softer and tenderer.
He enveloped my face with his large tatted up hands. I felt his callused fingertips, from years of playing the guitar, against my skin.
I pulled his suit jacket towards me and he pushed his torso against mine, sandwiching me against the wall.
His heart thumped against mine at an accelerating tempo.
When I finally took a breath, he smelled of rich creamy champagne, his natural musk and base notes of his sweat.
“Do that to me again, and I’ll fucking…” Adam said, cutting his sentence short.
“Do what?” I asked, my face still inches away from his.
“Play the harp like a…like a fucking angel,” he said, his blue eyes still soft, glowing.
“I’m guessing you enjoyed it,” I smiled, overwhelmed by the heat that emitted from his body.
“I nearly had to knock a security guard out to get to you as soon as I could,” he said, looking down both ends of the hallway.
“What? I was going to ask you how you got back here.”
“I ran past a guard that was standing by the door to the backstage area. He’s probably still looking for me.”
“You’re insane. Why’d you do that?”
“So I could kiss your fucking lips the first chance I got,” He said, then dove in again, and I took his kiss eagerly.
Adam’s bittersweet lips.
“Thanks for this post-performance gift,” I said, heart still fluttering.
“You’re the one who I should thank,” he groaned.
“I want to ask you something...”
“What is it, Pace?” He raised his brows letting light into his blue eyes.
I loved it so much when he called me Pace.
“When you were at my place the other day, did you want to kiss me on the couch?”
“No…I mean, yes,” he hesitated. “I don’t know why I’m still trying to deny it.”
“Damn, why didn’t you kiss me?”
“Because I wasn’t sure yet. But after hearing you perform, I was sure of it. More than fucking sure. I was certain I wanted to kiss you.”
He kissed me again, his groans got deeper and deeper to the lowest depth of his vocal range.
“I had no idea you were into…other guys,” I said.
“I’m not. I’ve never been. It’d always been girls, girls, girls. But man, Pace…the other day at your place, I was so curious, and when I ran out of there, I regretted not doing it. And tonight—fuck…tonight was so special. It was something I’d never experienced before. I’d never been so captivated by a performance. Even before, when we were teens and you played the piano, you were never this good. What changed?”
“I’d been practicing—to numb me from something. Every time I felt down, I played, and the more I did, the better I got, I guess.”
I didn’t want to mention that the pain I had been numbing was because he’d left for Los Angeles.
“Well, you certainly found something worth pursuing,” he smiled.
I eyed him up and down, noticing the suit he was wearing for the first time that evening.
“I’ve never seen you dress up like this before. Not since Prom at least, and even then you weren’t wearing a suit.”
“I looked up the dress code of this place for the evening. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, so I bought a suit just for the occasion.”
“Well, let me tell you that you look incredibly dapper. You should wear suits more often,” I said, tightening his perfect full-Windsor knot.
“You think so? Even with the tattoos?” He asked.
Adam brought his fists up to his face like he was an MMA fighter, showing off the tattoos on his knuckles and the back of his hands.
“Even with the tattoos,” I said, kissing his fists. “What do you say we get out of here and have dinner with my parents?”
“I’d love to, they were great company. It was so much more fun than going alone.”
“I’m glad you had fun. I hope my mom didn’t cry this time.”
“She sure did. She had to do her makeup again during intermission, and she’s probably in the washroom now fixing it up again.”
I laughed, picturing my mom’s face all messed up with makeup. “She does that every single time.”
“Shall we?” He asked, with a slight head nod to the exit door.
I nodded and Adam put his arm around my shoulder and we walked towards the doors to the atrium. There were footsteps behind us, and a security guard was turning the corner. He was out of breath.
“Hey you,” he panted. “You’re not allowed back here!”
“Don’t worry, he’s with me,” I said and we both continued walking as Adam put his hand on his mouth to hold himself back from laughing.
As we were leaving the atrium, we looked around for my parents and they were nowhere to be seen, so we walked outside. Adam’s arm was still slung around me.
As we stepped out, a flash of light blinded me for a second, then a few more.
When my eyes finally adjusted to the light, I realized they were paparazzi who had been waiting for Adam. Adam let go of me to shield his face from all the cameras.
Adam looked around trying to find a place to run to. There was no place to go on the street.
The photographers continued to snap photos of him, swarming us in all directions.
I shoved them aside to grab Adam’s arm and pulled him to a side door that led back into the Music Hall. We were lucky because it was still unlocked.
It took a few moments to adjust to the darkness of the now empty music hall.
“I didn’t know they’d be waiting outside,” I said.
“I totally forgot about them,” Adam said. “I was just so happy that I wasn’t thinking. Fuck! You think they got a shot with my arm around you?”
“They definitely did,” I said.
“God damn it! That’s not good.”
“Why?”
“They’re going to try to sell it and spin some story out of it.”
“My producer Simon and my mom are going to see.”
“So what?”
“I’ll be fucked man, the whole world will see the photos of us together.”
“It was just your arm around my shoulder, man. It wasn’t that bad.”
“They’ll try to spin it in whatever way they can. These people are fucking parasites. They’ll do anything to sell a story.”
“Try not to worry about it. I’m sure it won’t be that big of a deal,” I said. “Let me call my parents and see where they are. Maybe they can pick us up.”
“I think I should go back to the hotel, it’s already pretty late.”
“You sure you don’t want to join us for a quick bite?” I asked, wanting the evening to end on a positive note.
He hesitated, eyes wide, and stared at the ground. “Let me call my driver, I’ll ask him to pick us up and we can meet your parents somewhere.”
“How about we get take-out and just eat at my parents’ place? They’ll love that,” I said.
I remembered the days when Adam would join us for dinner.
“That sounds good, actually. Let’s do that.”
I called my parents, asking them to pick up some Italian food at the restaurant by their house. The place with the margarita pizzas that Adam loved. Adam made a call to his driver.
We waited in the dark music hall. Some cleaners came in, but they didn’t seem to care that we were in there. It was probably because Adam and I were both in suits and looked like we belonged.
It took less than ten minutes for Adam to get a call back from his guard.
Adam gave him instructions on which door we were at, and we heard a knock on the other side. The security guard who asked me to go backstage at Adam’s concert escorted us to the car.
There was a black Escalade waiting and there were more photographers than before.
Adam shielded his eyes, and I followed behind him. The security guard pushed the people back away from us as the driver opened the back door and we climbed in.
I looked over at Adam, who had a hand over his eyes.
“This happens a lot, eh?” I asked.
“Every fucking time,” he said, sounding exhausted.
I rested a hand on his back, loosening his tight muscles.
I looked out the window, there were more flashes on Adam’s side. The windows were tinted so that they wouldn’t have been able to get any more shots.
The security guard brushed the photographers off the cars. Their hands left sweaty prints all over the windows.
They knocked their fists on the vehicle and demanded Adam to come out. Behind them was a hoard of fans with photographs of Adam, waiting for him to sign them.
I turned to Adam again. His head was down and he slouched in his seat.
“Can we go?” He asked the driver.
“As soon as the people get out of the way, sir,” the driver said.
Finally, the guard opened the passenger door and climbed inside.
We drove off slowly, the driver tried his best to not hit anyone. Then as soon as he could, the driver sped off as fast as he could. I looked behind and people ran after the car.
I put my arm around his slouched shoulder, and he leaned the side of his head against me. His hair brushed up against my cheeks.
“It’s alright, buddy,” I said.
He closed his eyes as we drove to my parents’ place. There was a message from my mom. They had already picked up the food and were setting the table waiting for us to get there.
When we arrived, Adam had dozed off and I shook him to wake him up, and it startled him as he jerked up off my shoulder.
He looked around and rubbed his eyes, trying to make out where we were.
We were at my parent’s place, my childhood home.
The security guard turned from the passenger seat.
“Should I wait outside for you?” He asked.
“No, don’t worry about it. It should be late enough when I have to go that I’ll be able to take a taxi,” Adam said.
We got out and I thanked the driver and the guard.
My dad was already at the front door with a smile on his face waiting for us to come inside.