Saving Adam

Chapter 1

"Adam! Get up!" Adam Levine woke up to his wife, Behati, already dressed and ready to go, an inch from his face.
"Oh my god! Don't do that!" Adam flinched, startled. Behati quickly jumped off of him.
"Come on, get up! You have to be at the studio in fifteen minutes!"
"What?!" Adam reached over and grabbed his alarm clock, the bright display burning his eyes. 8:30.

He leaped out of bed, slamming the clock back down on the nightstand. Racing to the bathroom, he grabbed his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. He heard Behati running downstairs, and quickly raced back into his bedroom. Throwing on a new pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt off the floor, he leaped down the stairs. Grabbing his guitar case, he ran into the kitchen where Behati had already made them breakfast. He grabbed a buttered slice of toast off of the plate and took a bite, running over to his wife.
"Have a great day at work. I'll see you when you get home." Behati said, leaning over and kissing him.
"Thanks, see you later, bye." He grabbed a cup of steaming hot coffee off the table and ran out the door, holding the toast in his mouth.

He jogged up to the shiny black car in the drive way and unlocked it, sliding into the drivers seat. After taking a gulp of coffee, he shoved the cup into the cup holder and put the toast in his lap. He had started backing out when he got a text. It was James, the guitarist for his band.

James: Where the hell are you man? It's been like half an hour!

Adam swore under his breath, grabbing his phone while he pulled out of the gates and down the road.

Adam: Shit man, so sorry. Alarm didn't go off this am. Be there in a few.

James: hurry up. Michael not too happy about this.

Oh no. Today was the day his producer, Michael, was coming in to see how the band was doing. If he wasn't there, it could cost him his job. He quickly started to text back an apology.

Sirens nearby caused Adam to suddenly drop his phone into his lap. He was only a mile away from the studio, and he was already late. He could not get pulled over. The sirens wailed again, now right behind him.
Shit. Adam pulled over as the car got closer, the red and blue lights of a police cruiser flashing in his rearview mirror. The sound of a door opening and closing behind him made him quickly roll down his window as the cop approached his car.

"Sir, do you know how fast you were going?"
"Um, no, officer." Adam stammered.
The cop looked down, seeing his phone, now covered in butter from the toast.
"Were you texting while driving?"
"Oh, um..." Deny it." Yeah."
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"I'm going to have to give you a ticket for this." The officer replied, taking out a notepad and beginning to write. Damn it.
He ripped of a sheet from the top and handed it the singer.
"Have a good day."
"You too." Adam angrily forced himself to smile at the officer as he got into his police cruiser and drove away.

Sighing, he slumped back into his seat, crumpling the ticket in his hand. He had never gotten a ticket before. He was a celebrity, so the cops usually went easy on him. Not today. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he turned the keys in the ignition. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing.
"You have got to be kidding me!" Adam yelled in frustration, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel. He sat there for a few seconds, hands on top of the steering wheel, head hanging. His car was always reliable. Why was this happening now?
He stood up, and his phone and the toast fell to the floor. Swearing yet again, he bent down to pick them up. Doing this, he knocked the still hot coffee out of the cup holder and onto his back. He quickly jerked up, banging his head on the steering wheel. Holding his head with one hand and shoving his phone into his pocket, he stumbled out of the car. He cleaned the toast off the now ruined floor and tried to wring the coffee out of his shirt. Then he remembered that his phone was covered in butter and quickly whipped it out of his pocket. The phone flew into the air and landed with a crash onto the sidewalk. His new pants were now stained with butter that he tried to wipe off as he went to get his phone. As he picked it up off the ground, he saw that the screen was completely shattered. There was no way to call anyone for help now, not with the screen like this. Tired, beaten, and angry, he collapsed on the ground next to the car.

It was like this James found him several hours later, passed out.
"ADAM!" James shook the singer, jolting him awake.
"Woah! How long was I out?"
"I'm not sure, but Michael is pissed."
"Oh crap man, I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't get me my job back, Adam." Adam's heart sank.
"Wha-what?"
"Yeah, that's right. Your little alarm clock malfunction cost us all our jobs. I hope you're happy now."

James stormed off, leaving Adam on the ground. Fired? Adam was suddenly very scared. He was a celebrity! He couldn't be fired! What would he do? Where would he work? All these troubling thoughts swirled through his head.
Panting, he stood up. One problem at a time. How would he get home? His house was five miles away from the studio. There was no way to call for a ride. He would have to walk all the way back.