Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Liar vs. Liar - 19. The Man Behind the Man
Chapter Nineteen – The Man Behind the Man
“What makes a good story?” His brother studied him over his Frappuccino, tapping his extra sugar packet against the table to draw his attention.
Great. Just great. He was in for a lecture, and he wasn’t in the mood for it, but if he resisted, his brother would hound him until he gave up. Like a bitter pill, it was better to swallow it first.
“A lot of things make a good story,” he answered, without forgetting to glare for good measure. He leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms. He’d soon be called passive-aggressive, but something had to give.
His brother made the sound of a machine signaling an error and gave him a thumbs-down just in case he still didn’t get it. “Vague. We don’t work with vague. When we deliver news to the public, we need to show them that we’re sure of the content we’re setting before their eyes.”
“This isn’t news, it’s gossip. And we’re liars. How many times have we ever told the truth?” He shrugged and looked away, out the window. Like during the times he spent struggling with his textbooks, he yearned to be somewhere else, not under his big bro’s scrutinizing stare.
“What do you mean? We always tell the truth.”
He looked back at his older sibling. The grin plastered over that face that looked so much like his told him everything he needed to know. “Lie to yourself long enough and the lie will become your truth – is that your well-prepared lesson?”
“No, although you should work on your attitude. A good story needs a good character. And by a good character, I don’t mean a goody two shoes who helps grannies cross the road and saves cats from trees. It needs an interesting character. Take Jamie Vayne. What makes him so appealing? Why do people want to read about him?”
“He’s interesting. Good-looking. A free spirit,” he recited, without letting go of the attitude he supposedly needed to work on.
“He’s a bad boy. He’s hot and he knows it. He takes advantage of it. See? I’ve told you three different things that bring something extra to your boring description. And free spirit? Really? The guys who claim to be extraordinary are the most ordinary.”
“Be careful there. You’re contradicting yourself. People don’t want to read about other people like them. Ordinary as you call them.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Ordinary people pretending to be extraordinary appeal the most to the masses. Why? Because they want to imagine they’re that guy or gal. They want to believe that any day, it could happen to them. They could drive a car like that, have a house like that, be a celebrity like that endorsing juicing as a surefire weight loss trick. Do I have to teach you everything? I’m beginning to wonder where we went wrong with you.”
“Are you getting to the point today, or do we have to beat around the bush until I doze off?” His patience was wearing thin, and he missed the ordinary/extraordinary Jamie Vayne already.
“I’ll keep it short since you seem to have the attention span of a goldfish. To get a good story out of your mark, you need to know the man behind the man. Who is Jamie Vayne? Don’t tell me he’s this cool guy who’s waltzing through life without a care in the world. He has his own closet full of those proverbial skeletons, I’m telling you. That’s what you need to discover.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” He bristled at his brother’s words – always, without ever missing the mark, his older sibling made him feel that he couldn’t do his job if it cost him an arm. “Get him to confess under oath?”
“I doubt you can pull that off. You need to do your research. Where did he come from? He wasn’t born as the Jamie Vayne everyone knows today. There must have been a time when he was a guy without tattoos, unsure of himself, awkward and envious of others.”
“Somehow I doubt it.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s not like that.” The last words came out sharper than he intended, earning him a curious look from his brother. “If anything, he might be superficial. And that’s no surprise, right?” he added quickly. “That’s what popular guys are like, all the time.”
His brother tapped the table with the sugar packet again. “Do your research. I’m sure there are many interesting things in Jamie Vayne’s past that could make an awesome story. One that won’t bore your audience into an early grave. Are we clear?”
“Whatever.” His attitude was all that kept him from cowering under his big bro’s stare. It had always been like that in their family. The stronger had the right to bully the weak, but they weren’t doing it with some nefarious purpose in mind. They wanted him to become stronger too, like them.
“How’s job hunting?” he asked, jutting his chin out, to show his bro he could hold his own.
A shrug was the answer. Why was his brother giving him lessons when he couldn’t secure a job for himself? That was a mystery that required research. There was some truth in needing that to get a good story.
***
Taking a break from streaming seemed like the right thing to do, seeing how he would soon be engaged in other activities – activities that would provide him with the necessary funds to get by without resorting to showing off his body. However, that decision came with its fair share of challenges. Saying goodbye to his subscribers, even if only temporarily, had left him slightly emotionally rattled, which was surprising, but not unexplainable. Everyone, including the trolls and people who didn’t appear invested that much in his persona, had expressed their regrets that they wouldn’t see him for a while. Maybe they were stuck in the familiar, something Jamie thought himself to be, as well.
The other issue that was caused by it was that he couldn’t use his streaming activity as a pretext for having Cottontail over. Since he didn’t plan on getting into fights and sustaining injuries just for the sake of having his own personal nurse giving him time, care and affection, his bag of tricks looked lamely empty.
Therefore, when the moniker which his fluffy-tailed friend preferred appeared on the screen, unlike on other occasions, he found himself without a plan. Not taking the call wasn’t an option, because the cosplayer was a skittish creature. Jamie wasn’t the sort to play the game of texts and waiting for the other to stew in their own juices for the sake of coming out on top.
“Hello,” he drawled. “What’s cooking? Rabbit?”
“Hello to you too.” Cottontail’s words were breezy, but his tone was not. “I saw the note you posted on your account. Streaming suspended until further notice? Why? Is it because of me?”
“Hey, hey, there’s no need for you to get anxious. It’s just that some opportunities recently presented themselves to me, and as much as I’d like to be able to do everything, I’m only human.”
“What opportunities? If you don’t mind my asking.” When Cottontail regressed to his fake posh way of talking, it meant that he had gone from anxiety to full-blown insecurity. Jamie surprised himself with this sort of realizations, but he knew the bunny boy well enough by now to feel confident in his assessment.
“I don’t mind your asking,” he answered in kind. “First of all, chill your tits, because I plan to warm them back up with my tongue.”
“W-what?” The stammering was pretty cute.
“I’m going to be on a reality show. It’s my leg up to get my name out there,” he explained.
“I thought you were a musician.”
“People need to do all sorts of things to get noticed. If I appear on reality TV, it doesn’t mean I won’t play the drums anymore. Actually, it’s a way for me to sell myself as a drummer. I know that might sound complicated, but my agent--”
“Your agent?”
“Yes. Well, I know a guy who knows a guy, that sort of thing. I’ll get paid.” He had no idea why this conversation with Cottontail was proving to be so difficult.
“To expose your soul?”
“Wow, where did that come from? There’s nothing real in these shows. Everything is scripted.”
“No, Jamie, you don’t understand,” Cottontail moaned into the phone, and not in the exciting sort of way. “Reality TV gets the best audience ratings when there’s dirt involved. And the more genuine the dirt is, the better.”
Jamie felt rather vexed by Cottontail’s adamant attitude. “And how do you know that?”
“I’ve seen enough of them to last me a lifetime.”
“Good, that means that you can coach me. Because I don’t know the first thing about them.” It looked like he didn’t have to look for opportunities to get Cottontail in bed with him again.
“And you’re jumping into it headfirst?” Cottontail exclaimed, loud enough to make Jamie wince.
“You’re worrying too much, Mom,” Jamie teased him. “I’m a big boy, I know what I’m doing.”
“Everything you’re doing right now shows that you actually have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Okay, if you want to prove me wrong so much, how about you find your way over to my place? Tonight, around nine? Or ten? I know how much you love to don the dark mantle of the night during your amorous pursuits.”
“Ugh, shut up, your attempt at making poetic prose is horrendous. Leave it to people who know what they’re doing.”
“Exactly. And I know what I’m doing when I’m working on becoming a celebrity.”
“Is that what you want to be when you grow up? Not a musician?”
The way Cottontail was expressing his disappointment reminded Jamie a tad too well what he had first felt when Arthur had mentioned the reality show opportunity to him. Wasn’t he selling out by doing all this stuff that had nothing to do with making music? He shook the thought away. He had managed to convince himself already; convincing someone else should be a piece of cake.
“I’ll be everything I want to be, my furry friend,” he replied cheerfully. “But you sound like you need reassurance for your own endeavors. You know I’m good at lending a listening ear. So come tonight.”
“Can I at least hope that I can change your mind about the reality show?”
“No. I’ll be the one doing the mind changing. But I want to see you. Isn’t that reason good enough for you?”
A brief pause followed. “Yes, I believe it is,” came the quiet reply. “Let’s see each other, Jamie.”
“Great. I’ll be waiting.”
Intrigued was too little a word to describe what he felt after ending his convo with Cottontail. The guy showed not only interest in him, but also the sort of care that should have been reserved for people in a closer relationship than what they shared at the moment.
It didn’t matter. It gave him a nice fuzzy feeling just thinking about how Cottontail cared enough for him to advise him against making a mistake. Jamie knew very well that he’d go ahead with the reality show, so Cottontail’s opinion wouldn’t steer him away from his decision. Nonetheless, he’d listen to what his favorite bunny boy had to say about it. Who knew? Maybe he’d hear something he hadn’t considered before.
***
“Since it’s already late, I thought we should have a drink together.” Jamie showed the whiskey bottle to his enormous pink guest. “If you’re not a drinker, you should say so, though.” He counted on Cottontail’s bravado so he could learn a thing or two about his partner in streaming and not only.
“Are you trying to get into my pants?”
“I’ve already been there, and I’m not one for playing tricks when it comes to fun and sex. Truth is, I want to celebrate getting this gig with the reality show. I don’t have that many people to celebrate with.”
Cottontail maneuvered himself around on Jamie’s sofa, sticking his legs underneath the low table and folding his paws in his lap. “Are you a lonely man, Jamie?”
“That’s a serious question, too serious since we haven’t drank one drop yet. Why would you think that? I’m surrounded by people all day long. If anything, there are very few moments I have only to myself.”
“When do you practice? Your drums, I mean,” Cottontail asked.
“There’s this place where I go four or five times a week. You can guess that there’s not enough room here for more than a rudimentary drum kit.”
“So, I won’t get to hear you play?”
Jamie placed the glasses on the table. “You want to?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’ll have to either come see me perform or accompany me to practice. The only impediment I see is that you wear a huge pink costume, which might make people on the street wary of you.”
“I see. I will, anyway.”
“Don’t tell me you’ll opt for another incognito act.”
“I might.”
“You’re really keen on not telling me who you are. Damn, don’t tell me you’re a celebrity and can’t show your face.”
“I’m not a celebrity,” Cottontail said from inside his huge rabbit head. He tried helplessly to wrap his hand around the glass in front of him, making Jamie snicker and shake his head.
“We’ll have to put you in your sexy bunny outfit for this to work.”
“I only have on a pair of shorts underneath this,” Cottontail argued.
“How are you supposed to drink then? I can’t even see where your mouth is.”
Jamie yelped for show as Cottontail stuck his paw into a hole in his enormous head.
“Let’s not turn this lovely night into a horror show, okay? Go to the bathroom. I left some sweatpants and a t-shirt of mine for you to change into. Your mask is also in there.”
The domesticity of seeing Cottontail wearing his clothes made him all warm and fuzzy inside. Seeing how he hadn’t even sipped a mouthful of alcohol, he needed to get a hold of himself. After all, he wanted to tease some truths out of his friend. Although Cottontail seemed adamant about being the one to conduct the interview tonight, Jamie believed he could pull off the show host act better than his guest.
Also, once Cottontail was out of his pink monstrosity of a costume, Jamie would have the opportunity to search the thing abandoned in the bathroom for clues regarding his mysterious bunny boy.
“Do you have a drinking problem, Jamie?” Cottontail asked once he got back. Although his words came out as rude, his tone was anything but.
“Are you hard at work imagining I have issues or what?” Jamie poured the alcohol into their glasses, just enough to give them a nice buzz. “Be happy for me. I landed an actual job in the entertainment industry.” It wasn’t exactly true. There were still papers to sign, NDAs and whatnot. Angus had warned him that a non-glamorous side existed to everything. Jamie took things as they came. And this chance looked like a good thing for him.
“I’ll be happy when you’re happy,” Cottontail said, raising his glass.
“Then how about showing me a smile? ‘Cause I’m pretty happy right now.”
“You are?” The same puzzled, intrigued note sounded in his voice.
“I’m about to jump on the gravy train, I have enough time to play the drums, I’m jamming with awesome guys, and right now, I’m having a drink with a guy I like.”
“You like me?”
Jamie wrapped one arm around Cottontail’s shoulders. “That shouldn’t surprise you.”
“But you don’t know me.”
“Maybe that’s part of your charm. You know what? I’m not the one with issues here. You are. So how about you start confessing all your sins. By the way, now I feel I should ask. Do you have a drinking problem, and I’m unwittingly tempting you?”
“No. I just don’t drink. I don’t go to parties,” Cottontail explained with a sigh, while staring inside his glass.
“Because you don’t want to go?”
It was easy to offer a way out. Also, Jamie didn’t want to have Cottontail all self-deprecating like that. Not tonight. He yearned for a conversation that was at least about one of them for real and not just for show.
“I want to go,” Cottontail replied. “But I lack the courage. I am a rabbit, after all.”
Jamie needed a moment to realize it was a joke and he laughed a second too late.
“I almost got you there,” Cottontail bragged.
“Yeah, yeah. But seriously, you don’t drink at all? Then allow me.” He took Cottontail’s glass and poured some of it into his own. “Now this is the correct serving size for a non-drinker.”
“It seems so little,” Cottontail complained, examining his glass with critical eyes.
“I don’t want to get you drunk. Hey, do you want pizza?”
“At this hour?”
“It’s not that late. And I’m not talking about takeout. I can pop two in the microwave. I have these mini pizza things.”
“Okay,” Cottontail said with enthusiasm. “Can I watch while you cook?”
Jamie guffawed. “I don’t cook. I just throw things in the microwave.”
“I know, but it would be nice to watch you.”
“If you say so. Weirdo. Grab your glass.”
“Am I getting a refill if I drink this?”
“No, you’re too much of a noob for that.”
***
His brother wanted him to see the man behind the man. What he didn’t understand was that the man Jamie was behind that outward persona was even better. He had a strong desire to walk behind him and wrap his arms around him while Jamie stared keenly as the microwave timer counted down. That would make him really happy, but he didn’t dare do that sort of thing.
Not yet, at least.
TBC
I hope you enjoyed this week's installment and continue to follow Jamie's story.
Also, I want to bring to your attention that I finished another story Sunny Hill-related, and it's Drew's redemption ark. My Plot Whisperers on Patreon helped me shaped it, and now the book is available on Smashwords. It's entitled Forget Yourself - A Sunny Hill Side Story, and it follows Drew's adventures through what seems a dead end in his life and ends up being the complete opposite. (On Patreon, the story is only available to my Plot Whisperers)
All that said, let's see each other next time!
Hugs,
Laura.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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