If he looked at it objectively,
Nigel would probably allow that there was a reason cab drivers tended not to
stop for him. Six foot of glowering, tattooed Romanian was probably enough to
make even your most toughened Californian cabbie lock all his doors, let alone
the pussies who drove in this hoity-fucking-toity neck of the woods.
Objectivity was not, however, one of Nigel’s strong points, so instead he
elected to continue growling obscenities at the entire cab-driving profession
as he moved down towards the back of the bus he’d been forced to mount in lieu
of any other transport options.
“Motherfucking dick hole son of a
“Could you please refrain from
swearing until you have left the bus, please?”
Nigel swung to find the source of
the soft but direct complaint, fully anticipating a welcome chance to knock
some cheeky fucker’s face in. What he found, instead, was a face he wouldn’t
wish to see damaged by his or any other fists for all the money in the world.
Bright blue eyes, wide and innocent looking, were set in a pale, smooth-skinned
face, and set off by waves of brown hair, just coming loose from the neat,
careful shape they had been tamed into. Nigel took in the young man sitting
opposite him, the old man clothes and stiff demeanour not remotely dimming his
beauty, and immediately decided to switch from offensive to charm offensive.
He grabbed the rail above the
kid’s seat and hung off it, leaning down with a smile to say, “My apologies, gorgeous,
I didn’t realise I was being so uncouth. I’d hate to think I made you
The kid crossed his arms in front
of himself, not meeting Nigel’s gaze, and said, “I don’t like loud noises or
swearing, they make me uncomfortable. In addition, I have a very bad headache
and am not feeling very well, so I would appreciate it if you could wait until
you are further away before continuing your tirade. And my name is Adam,” he
added. “Please don’t call me gorgeous, it is demonstrably untrue and therefore
either you are mocking me, or attempting to use an endearment inappropriate for
someone you have just met.”
Nigel blinked, and then gave Adam
a slow look up and down. “Darling, I’m not sure what you see when you look in
the mirror, but from here you are very evidently the most gorgeous thing in
this whole damn state.”
At this, Adam flicked his eyes up
to Nigel’s for a fraction of a second before he looked away again. He sighed
and said, “I can’t tell if you mean what you say. Normally I would attempt to
understand, but I’m really not feeling well enough to do so today. My stop is
not far away, would you mind if we don’t talk anymore?”
“I don’t mind darling,” Nigel
grinned. He was suddenly very glad to have taken the fucking bus this once, if
it meant getting to sit next to this strange, pretty kid for a little while. “But
in return, might I sit with you, seems like all the other seats are taken.
Promise to keep my trap shut,” he added, holding his hands up as Adam narrowed
his eyes. The kid peered at him – or at least, near to him – for another
moment, then gave a curt nod of his head, and moved a little to the side to
make space for Nigel.
True to his word, Nigel didn’t
utter another syllable. He did, however, take advantage of Adam’s resolutely
front-facing gaze to look his fill. At first, he simply admired the kid’s trim figure,
his long legs and the way his surprisingly broad shoulders tapered into a slim
waist. Eventually, though, he lifted his gaze above the kid’s neck and began to
get concerned. There was sweat on Adam’s brow, and high colour in his cheeks.
He hadn’t been lying when he said he was sick.
“Adam, I know I said I would be
quiet, but you don’t look good, darling. Are you going to be ok?” The question
drew no response, and Nigel began to get truly worried at the glassy look in
Adam’s eyes. He was about to try again when the bus started to slow, and Adam
stood jerkily, swaying a little as he gathered his things. Apparently this was
his stop. Reluctantly, Nigel stood to let him past, already wondering if he
should offer to see the kid home, if that would be unwelcome to this closed off
young man. His mind was made up for him, though, when Adam fainted clean into
“Let’s think the unthinkable, let’s do the undoable. Let us prepare to
grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after
– Douglas Adams, born March 11, 1952. (The universe misses you.)
Hello, my name is Adam.
I prefer daydreams over reality.
Music is my muse.
I write and record in my basement.
I have trouble sleeping.
These songs are all I have to show for my sleepless nights.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy creating them.
It means the world to know someone is out there listening.
You have no idea how much I appreciate you.
I follow Jesus Christ wholeheartedly. He is my life, my strength, my all. — Adam’s original Myspace page description (2007)