Glamberts Big Bang Chapter 06

[writefiction]

Title/Chapter: Kiss Away the Pain (06/16+Epilogue)
Author: amanda: jaclyn’s twin sister
Beta: mindchnger 
Artists: peculiar_mind / gargoyles42 /
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing: Adam Lambert / OFC [Luxe]
Rating: G - this one’s pretty tame. Not even a curse word.
P.O.V.: First Person, OFC: Luxe
Warning: none for this chapter.
Word Count: 1,140
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Art Post
Graphics Post
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Summary: Luxe and Adam have been best friends since Hollywood Week, but now that tour rehearsals have begun, Adam is finding out things he'd never know about his friend. Things that no one should have to go through. Can Adam be her Knight in Shining Armor? Or will he be the support Luxe needs to overcome her fears and help herself?

Two Weeks Later…

It’s the night of our first show and everyone is buzzing with nerves backstage. Allison has already done up my hair for me and now I’m sitting still as a statue while Adam applies my eye makeup. I wrinkle my nose as it starts to itch. “Sit still!” Adam commands, swatting my thigh.

“I’m sorry!” I reply reaching up to rub my nose. “But I got a tickle.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “And I’m sure you’d rather I take care of this than sneezing all over your prettily made up face.” I smirk as my friend looks at me like I’ve just committed the world’s worst sin.

“You wouldn’t,” he gasps.

“I would,” I tell him triumphantly. “Now get me a tissue. The tickle’s gone, but this is preempting any further tickles that may or may not be followed by snot.”

Adam looks completely grossed out as he reaches for the box of tissues next to him. “Here, have the whole box. I don’t want your snot on my face whether it’s prettily made up or not.” I laugh and take the box from him. Then he leans in real close, making my breath catch in my throat. But then his hand comes up with a stick of kohl and I realize he’s not going to kiss me, just outline my eyes.

Around my raven-haired makeup artist’s head I can see Lil standing with her hands on her hips, staring at the clock as she taps her foot anxiously. She checks the clock, then her cell phone, then the clock again. I make a face and Adam taps me on the nose. “Stop that,” he says.

“Sorry,” I mumble. I only have to wait for him to smudge the kohl around my eyes before he leans back, scrutinizes, then smiles widely.

“So pretty,” he murmurs. I feel myself blush making his smile turn in to a full-fledged grin. But then I remember what I’d been watching beforehand.

I look towards Lil again and she’s glaring at the clock on the wall now. “Hey, Lil, what’s up?” I ask her with a frown.

“Oh, nothing, Sweetheart,” she says. “It’s just… The show was supposed to start about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Really?” I ask looking up at the clock to confirm her statement. We are indeed running fifteen minutes late.

Lil makes a frustrated noise in her throat. “Forget it! I’m gonna go find out why we’re not on that stage yet.” Then she stomps out of the room. But she’s not gone more than thirty seconds when she’s ushered back in by her handler. She huffs and plants her butt in a chair. I look at Adam with raised eyebrows and he shrugs. Then one by one our handlers make their way in to the dressing room.

My handler, Baize, is the last to enter. When he does, he motions me over to a quiet corner of the room. “Baize, what’s going on?” I ask when I get to his side. “Why aren’t we being ushered in to our places to go on stage?”

“Don’t freak out,” the muscular man begins, which makes my heart pound. “But Jackson’s here.”

“What?!” I exclaim loudly as the sound of my frantic pulse beats a deafening rhythm in my ears.

“Shh,” Baize says, putting his large hands on my shoulders. He’s one of the only guys I let touch me. “You don’t want everyone to hear, do you?” I shake my head, my lower lip trembling as tears form in my eyes. “It’s okay,” my handler tells me. “We’re locking you guys down until he can be escorted off the property. He’s not gonna get my Little Pretty, okay?” I nod, still completely terrified no matter how reassuring the large man sounds.

Suddenly Adam is at my side, wrapping his arms around me tightly. I burrow in to his chest, the tears finally falling, smearing my perfectly done makeup all over my face. “Hey, baby, what’s going on?” he asks gently. I shake my head, clinging to him tightly. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You can tell me.”

I’m only able to utter one word, Jackson, so quietly that at first I’m not sure Adam has heard me. But then his baby blues go a steel gray and his pretty mouth forms a hard line, his jaw set. He looks over my head at Baize and the body guard moves a few feet away from us. Adam kisses the top of my head and squeezes me tightly. “Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Baize and I will protect you. I’ll always protect you. Please don’t cry, baby.”

“Ca-Can’t hel-help it,” I stutter through my tears.

“Shh,” Adam whispers. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you. Do you believe me?” I nod. “Baize and I, we won’t let him get anywhere near you. I promise.” Adam pulls back a little and smiles down in to my messy face. “Now how about you take a few deep breaths and calm yourself down. Then we’ll get that face of yours washed up and dressed up all over again. Okay?” I nod and my eyes catch a glimpse of my friend’s shirt. It’s all smeared with my makeup.

“Oh god, Adam, your shirt,” I say, tears building once again.

“Hey now, don’t cry over my shirt,” he tells me. “I’m just happy that you’re right here with me where I can protect you. No use crying over my shirt. I can wash it and if it stains, I’ll just buy a new one.”

“You sure?” I sniffle.

Adam nods. “Completely sure.” He moves away from me for just a moment, then comes back with that box of tissues from earlier. He plucks a few sheets of the white facial tissue from the cardboard and gently wipes at my face, dabbing away the tears. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmurs quietly. “Everything will be just fine. I’ll get you all prettified in no time.” He grins at me and even though it’s completely contagious, I only manage a weak smile.

Adam accompanies me to the adjoining bathroom where I scrub the remaining makeup from my skin. I dry my face and then I’m ushered over to a chair in front of a mirror. Adam rummages through all the tubes and tubs and palettes and brushes before turning to me and redoing everything I had managed to screw up in a matter of seconds.

Thirty minutes after the crisis had occurred, our tour manager comes in the room and tells everyone the security breach has been tended to and it’s time to hit the stage. After the show, instead of signing autographs and taking pictures with the fans at the barricade, we’re all ushered on to our buses and it’s on to our next destination.