Liar vs. Liar - 23. Training Day

Chapter Twenty-Three – Training Day

“Should I understand from this that you’re no longer angry at me?” Jamie moved his phone from one ear to the other. Everything was happening quickly these days, and he needed – and wanted – a break. Mitch the Voice had even called to ask for a reconciliatory meeting. Jamie had said ‘no’.

“I don’t hold grudges,” Cottontail replied from the other end. “I’m calling for a very specific purpose. I had to find out from the internet that you signed for that reality show. Yes, I know we’re not married. But do you really know this Angus Boyd, Jamie?”

“I appreciate your concern,” Jamie said brightly. “Is there something I should know about Angus Boyd? And more importantly, are you stalking me online?”

“I can stalk you in real life. Stalking you online is a piece of cake. The thing is, you should do some of that stalking yourself.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Jamie stretched out on the sofa, the phone still glued to his ear. “When do you want to drop by? You can tell me all about your specific purpose when you get here.”

“I need to train you so that you don’t fall into any of their usual traps. These reality TV people are evil.”

“You seem convinced, but how come? Have you ever been on a reality show?”

“No,” came the clipped reply. “But I know the fear of being exposed.”

“Hence the rabbit suit, right?” Jamie prodded lightly.

“You like to assume a lot. This isn’t for me, Jamie, it’s for you. I need to make sure that you go into this reality TV business with some knowledge under your belt. Oh, by the way, you should know that they will be plenty interested in that, too. In what you have under your belt, I mean.”

“Is this a weird way of saying that the people on the production team want to suck my cock? Because that would be such a strange thing to believe, in the first place.” Cottontail was, as usual, a puzzle that he needed to figure out, and the journey was just as much fun as reaching the destination. Even if the boy hiding behind that inglorious cosplay didn’t think too much of his own self, Jamie had an inkling that he’d love the prize.

“No. But sexuality, any dark or dirty side of it will be on their menu. They will try to poke you and push you into revealing things you don’t want people to know. I bet they know about your adult livestream thing.”

“They do, but I’m not in the least bothered by it. I mean, did I give you the feeling that I’m ashamed of doing the things I do? Unlike most people, I’m free, and I’m using my freedom any way I see fit.” Without realizing it, he was gearing up for a heated argument. The moment he realized that, he also understood he needed to dial it back a little. “There will be talk about my side hustle at some point. But, this is the twenty-first century, so I don’t suppose people will start throwing holy books at me for it. Who watches this type of thing, anyway? Am I right or am I right?”

A long-suffering sigh sounded on the other end. “Jamie, it baffles me how much of a naïf you can be sometimes. Okay, so if it’s not going to be your sexuality, it will be something else. Think long and hard. Is there something in your past or present that could be used against you?”

“No,” Jamie replied quickly and with a shrug, although Cottontail couldn’t possibly guess the cues his body was giving. “You worry too much. This show is going to be different from the pack of others you can watch on TV these days.”

“And how do you know that? Are you watching a lot of them, then?”

“No,” Jamie admitted. “But Angus assured me that the participants will not be pitched against one another to win the show’s audience over. As its name indicates,” he recited like a good little salesman, “it will focus on how to build a brand and an identity online. It’s called LiveFeed, by the way.”

“I see. This is the lie they told you. I mean, he told you. You haven’t spoken to anyone else besides this Angus person, right?”

“No, but does it matter? He’s going to produce me. Also, I’m the only one he’s going to do that for, so I have no reason not to trust him.” Again, he was gearing up for an argument for no reason. “Come on, don’t keep me waiting. If you’re dying to train me, do your thing. I don’t mind being your guinea pig. As long as it’s entertaining for you, I mean.”

“It sounds to me like you don’t want to continue your argument over the phone. Fine, we’ll continue when I get to your place. You’ll have to wait until tonight, though. I dislike getting too much attention as I make my way across campus in my rabbit suit.”

“Why are you putting so much work into this? If the mask is in good order, just put that in your bag, and when you’re close, since you’re so bent on not letting me know who you are, put it on. That way, I get to see you sooner,” he added, hoping that his ruse worked. No one said he wouldn’t happen to go to meet his partner somewhere halfway.

“You are trying to tempt me, and it’s almost working. But you’ll have to wait for me. This is how we’re going to play it, and don’t you forget it. We have ground rules.”

“Right, right. Okay, let’s have it your way. One day, however, you’ll do what I say, and you’ll love it.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Definitely.”

***

Jamie observed his visitor with a keen eye. Cottontail had his arms free from the huge costume, and had opted for the mask instead of the huge head, but still kept the pink nightmare on.

“You look like that goddess that got birthed from the foam of the sea or something,” he joked. “Only that you’re a skinny dude, and the foam is an ugly rabbit suit.”

Cottontail tsked in displeasure and tapped his notebook with the long pencil he had brought along. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere. Pay attention to what I’m about to ask you. As soon as you’re with the production team, you’ll regret not having been diligent enough in learning the ropes beforehand.”

“Okay, fire away,” Jamie invited him with a generous wave of his arm.

“Where did you come from, Jamie Vayne?” Cottontail had the pencil poised above the notebook, his attention rapt and completely trained on his host.

“Is that an important thing to know?”

“Why so defensive? Don’t tell me you’re a country boy.”

“Are you sure you’re not doing this for yourself? After all, you keep on hounding me about how much you want to get to know the real Jamie Vayne.”

“It’s both. Are you not ready to reply to such a simple question?”

Cottontail was right. Jamie closed his eyes for a moment only to catch a glimpse of a past he no longer cared about with his all-seeing mind: the dusty tones of brown and tan everywhere he could see, the brilliant cruel sky, the main road stretching to the horizon, and the taste of spicy food imprinted on the back of his throat.

“Jamie?”

Cottontail’s insistent voice pulled him out of his reverie. “What were you saying? Where did I come from? No place in particular. My family used to move a lot. I’ve never spent too much time in the same place.”

“Okay, great, we’re making progress. Was your family the conservative type or the opposite type?”

“What do you think?”

Cottontail tapped the long pencil against his lips. “You were nomads, so pretty liberal? Was your mom in the business of growing certain plants? Just so you know, you can be evasive when answering these questions, but you cannot flat out refuse to answer them. The former will make you look mysterious, the latter, a fun-wrecker.”

“Okay, good to know. So far I like the way this training is going. If I do well, will I get a cookie later?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. He knew Cottontail understood what he was asking very well by how his bottom lip quivered and his eyes darted quickly to the page in front of him. It crossed his mind how this mysterious little friend of his could write an imaginary history for Jamie Vayne, one he’d actually like for a change.

This game was entertaining.

“Okay, hit me with your next question,” he said, emboldened by his success so far.

“Is Vayne your real family name?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“Guess.”

“That’s impossible. There are probably hundreds of thousands of family names in the world.”

“Deal with it. I’m not letting you have it, not that easily.”

“I bet your employer at the coffee shop has it,” Cottontail pointed out with a smirk.

“Yes, and she’s sworn with the biggest secrecy of our time to keep it secret. Try your luck with her, if you want, but I’m totally chill about that. I know you’ll come up empty.”

“I like your confidence, Jamie. Anyway, that was a question for me, because, of course, you must have signed the papers with the show guys with your legal name.”

“Could they use it against me?” Jamie asked, intrigued by Cottontail’s obvious displeasure with people who worked in television.

“No, I suppose it would be a blow below the belt for no reason. Wait, is your real family name that bad? Something weird or nasty?”

Jamie assumed his best poker face. He didn’t mind his family name, not in the way Cottontail was suggesting, but it didn’t represent him. It said absolutely nothing about him, and a rockstar in the making surely needed a moniker that people would easily remember him by.

“Okay, next question,” Cottontail said with a sigh, staring down at the notebook. Jamie was pretty sure the guy was nearsighted, but at the same time, he was making an effort to conceal the fact. The way he seemed to cross his eyes to read the words he himself had written down made him look cute for some reason. Jamie had a thing for helpless things. Although the bunny boy in front of him would probably turn feral if he made even the slightest allusion to anything of the sort.

“I’m waiting,” he said joyously.

“Why did you agree to join the show?”

“Is this another question from you, or do you think it could help me deal with the production team?”

“No, this is the sort of stuff they’ll ask to lull you into a false sense of security. Remember that they will be all milk and honey just to trap you. After they get to know you a little, have a chance to dig into your past and present a little, that’s when they’ll start to show their teeth.”

“You have this strange idea that I’ll be easy to get devoured. What of me strikes you as being, I don’t know, defenseless?”

Cottontail put his pencil down and folded his hands over the open notebook. “You’re way too trusting.”

“How so? Ah, you mean that I’m too trusting because I allow weirdly dressed dudes to walk into my place and do the nasty with me?” Jamie grinned while observing the way Cottontail blushed. The guy was no longer a virgin. What reason could he have to feel so embarrassed by a little blunt talk?

“No,” came the stark rebuttal. “What I mean is that you assume that there’s nothing in what people do or say that can truly affect you. Yes, I know that you punched those guys because they were mean to you, but I bet that you don’t think much about them.”

Cottontail was slightly wrong about that. He was suggesting – no, even believing – that Jamie didn’t hold grudges. In a way, that was true, because he preferred to move forward and slide over any unpleasantness that happened to him. It made things easy, just about as much as not having roots to worry about when he needed to move on. Two years spent around here were proving to be a bit too long already. Maybe it was time for a change.

At the same time, if he thought about it, Jamie could sour quickly. The Mitches were a thing of the past, of course, but he wouldn’t talk to them ever again, and not because he was still angry at them. He just didn’t want to experience any of the ugliness his interactions with them brought forth. If you didn’t want mud on your shoes, you could choose not to go outside when it rained. It was that easy, and a lot of people would be a lot happier if they just chose that strategy for themselves.

“I can tell that I just gave you something to think about. That’s good, because the reality show people will love that about you. If you can manage to make them love you, with whatever little dry and nasty love that can be squeezed out of their dark hearts, you’ll win this.”

“Oh, really?” Jamie asked, feeling better already. “I know I’m a charmer. So I think I will be able to get them on my side. I can’t get over the fact that you’re so dead set against them. Why so salty? If you can tell me, of course.”

“Call it professional… disgust,” Cottontail replied after a few moments of pondering the question.

“Disgust? And professional? Don’t tell me you’re doing nature documentaries on saving the planet before it’s too late.”

“I’m not that sort of creep,” Cottontail riposted right away. The indignation that could be – partially – read on his face made Jamie smirk.

“What sort are you, then?”

“Let’s move on. Are you aware of the way this sort of show works with certain archetypes?”

“Tell me more.” Jamie straightened up and placed his chin in his palm, resting his elbow on one knee, while giving his guest his undivided attention.

“You know, like how one participant is the villain, another is the hero, another is there only to make people laugh, that sort of thing.”

“Okay, so they don’t want to know who people are, they just want to slot them into certain roles,” Jamie concluded on his own. “But I don’t think this show will be as formulaic as that.”

“That remains to be seen, don’t you think?” Cottontail pointed the pencil at him. “Whatever they come up with when they talk to you and pass out the roles, make sure that you don’t accept the slut role.”

“Um, slut role? They say it like that? And I’m afraid my sleeping around might get them to think I’m a great fit for that role,” Jamie admitted without one trace of doubt.

“No, you don’t want that, Jamie. As charming as you are, as much of an ethical slut you think yourself to be, you must not accept it if they try to steer you that way.”

“You’re dead set against it. May I ask you why?”

Cottontail stared down at his notebook, his lips pursed. “Sluts get cut, Jamie. Always. In the whole history of reality TV, there was never a slut who won any sort of show, regardless of its nature.”

“That’s too bad. It makes me think that I should fight for the right to be proud of being a slut,” Jamie joked.

“No,” Cottontail said in a tone that brooked no contradiction, pointing his pencil like a weapon at Jamie. “If you don’t want your reputation in tatters when this creepy show is over, be as dead set against it as I am.”

“Who should I be then? The hero? Should I start washing oil off ducks to prove what a great guy I am?”

Cottontail remained pensive for a while. “I don’t think you’re a cookie-cutter sort of person.”

“Thank you, that’s an awesome compliment. Also, I need to mention this: I’m doing this show only to promote myself as a drummer. That’s what I want to get out of it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing it at all. Can’t I be that? The passionate musician? Which would be the truth, actually.”

“We’ll see if they’ll let you. I can’t know how many aces they’ll hide up their sleeves. I’m sure they’re going to allow you to sell yourself, the way you are, as long as they consider it interesting. And that also makes for what they call ‘engaging television’.” The imaginary quotes floated from Cottontail to Jamie like a breeze. Whatever this guy had against television people, it seemed to run deep.

“What else should I know about before I start out on this path that clearly leads me to pain and suffering, according to you?”

“There is a lot. But I don’t want to confuse you by teaching you too many things all at once. However, here’s one more. You must prepare your soundbites in advance. They shouldn’t sound rehearsed, so work on delivery, too.”

“Soundbites, okay. What are those?”

“You know, bits and pieces their editing team can use to entertain the audience. Memorable quotes, that sort of thing.”

“Music is my life,” Jamie said, feeling his heart opening a bit, as their grueling conversation seemed to be drawing to a close.

“Good one, but it also needs to be about the show.”

“I’m the best so eff the rest?” Jamie joked.

“Depending on their stance on profanity,” Cottontail replied promptly. “Well, think about it,” he suggested while elbowing his way back into his rabbit costume. “They need to be original, define you, and also make people remember you.”

“What are you doing?” Jamie asked.

“What does it look like? I’m leaving, now that my mission here is done.”

“And my cookie?”

Cottontail looked around and suddenly pointed somewhere behind him. “Is that a full bag of chocolate chips?”

“Where?” Jamie asked, perplexed by such an out-of-the-blue question, and turned his head.

The fumbling and rustling reached him too late. Cottontail rushed out the door, slamming it behind him. Jamie made a move to follow and then relaxed. They could fool around later.

TBC