Who: Cotton Weary purecotton & Kung Jin houseofkung What: Public Appearance When: Backdated, Saturday, September 12, approximately 10 PM Where: Club where Jin is a bouncer. Rating: Audience Discretion is Advised Warnings: Cotton is a foul-mouthed fellow sometimes. Jin will likely be a cool guy. Status: Closed/Completed Partner Thread
~*~
Club scenes were not Cotton Weary's favorite places to be. He'd outgrown those within four years of his release from prison. There had been a lot of fun to be had in those early years when the money had seemed endless and the women had wanted to "show him what he'd been missing" while in prison. It had taken him a while to catch on to the fact he was being used by everyone in those circles for their own 15 Minutes of Fame. He hadn't really liked going back since.
Public appearances were a must in his business---selling his image was what kept him in business at all. Cotton couldn't go into hiding the way Sidney could. She had the luxury of being talented. He was stuck making do with being a very good sensationalist. People flocked to him for his "Everyman" appeal, but really? They only wanted to talk to him because he was an oddity. Not many men who'd been wrongfully convicted of the type of crime he'd went in for went on to throw themselves into the public eye.
Most men who'd been convicted as pedophiles and potential murderers only wanted to be left alone after they were set free.
Cotton Weary loved the limelight. He had no problem admitting it. He only wanted to shine in it per his own preferences.
"How many of the patrons are likely to try to tear my clothes off?"
He asked the bouncer at the front door -young, pretty guy who clearly spent more time in the gym than Cotton did- while fixing the cuffs on his shirt. Cotton was very much expected at the club. The MC was hyping the crowd loudly enough he could hear them from outside and the line at the door wasn't anything to sneeze at either. So far, he imagined he'd landed on no less than fifty social networking accounts from all the flashes of cell phones in the darkness.
Cotton didn't care if they wanted to take his picture. He looked good enough for this crowd. It was free press. He'd never turn down good free press.
~*~
Jin’s long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he wore a white undershirt and jeans. It served the double purpose of keeping him cool while showing off his muscles. That might be enough to deter someone who wanted to start shit. Because if people looked too long at Jin’s face, they might see that he was far younger than most people expected.
He didn’t bounce that often anymore now that he worked at the library as part of his school program, but the manager had called him in special to help keep a VIP safe. He was a good enough friend where Jin had agreed. And the VIP seemed to be a nice enough guy too, so Jin was actually having a decent time. “Maybe ten or so? But don’t worry, they’re probably too drunk to figure out how buttons or zippers work,” Jin offered. He shifted his weight as he scanned the crowd for anyone too aggro. Jin’s strategy was to stop fights before they started.
~*~
Cotton snorted, "Trust me: drunk people can still figure out how to ruin a suit trying to get it off you when they want to. I learned that when I was still new to all this. Bright lights, big cities. God, I was an idiot."
He had never really looked back at himself on those days. It hurt to see how far he had tumbled given all he'd wanted was to earn back some of the dignity which had been stolen from him in prison. No one had needed to tell him there was no such thing as the grass being greener on the other side. Cotton had known that a long time before Sidney Prescott had thought she knew he was responsible for her friend's disappearance. It had been the response from the public which had gotten to his head.
How many men could handle a crowd chanting his name without letting that go to his head?
"You going to stay out here to watch this door or are you the lucky guy who gets to walk in front of me to take the worst of the wandering hands?"
The guy was young enough he'd likely get off on it a little. Most guys his age wouldn't protest hyped-up fangirls trying to rub on them when they were walking through. It seemed an eternity since Cotton had been that age. He hadn't gotten to be that age even when he had been. That was muddy water under a broke-down bridge; Cotton couldn't change the past so there was no point in dwelling on it. He shook it off as he worked on his best smile for the crowd. It wasn't as if they came to see him brooding.
~*~
“I’m your personal bodyguard for the evening, Mr. Weary.” Jin smiled politely, bowing his head slightly. “I’m Jin Kung, just in case you need to get my attention.” He watched the crowd swell, watched them cheering loudly. Jin actually only had a vague idea of who this guy was; Jin wasn’t much of a TV watcher and tended to read books that were a bit obscure. It wasn’t out of snobbery, just out of having weird tastes. But he’d looked up Cotton’s book after taking the job, just out of morbid curiosity.
“Whenever you're ready.”
~*~
'Mister Weary' had been the man who'd beat on Cotton when the liquor had been deep in his veins. He recoiled slightly at the form of address. Instinct sometimes still got to him in spite of his experiences while incarcerated. It was strange to think someone would want to call him a 'Mister.' A personal bodyguard was not something he was unaccustomed to dealing with, but being called 'Mister'?
That was a new one for Cotton.
"Just Cotton, kid. I can't be Mr. Weary. He was a drunk bastard with mean fists. Stick to the path straight ahead. I'll wave and try to dodge as much as I can."
Cotton opened the door to the club and waved, cheers raising up while he gestured for Jin to take the lead.
"After you, Personal Bodyguard."
~*~
Jin nodded, bowing his head once more. People’s histories never failed to make him sad; his parents might have been strict and had really high expectations for him, but there’d never been physicality involved. It was with a sigh that he moved out to the crowd, appreciating that Cotton was smart enough to try to dodge. It would’ve been a nightmare if he’d been one of those people who wanted to try to go into the crowd and hug or something.
~*~
Raising his hand high to wave, slap some high-fives, gesture to those in the crowd who were desperate to capture his attention, Cotton called out, "Thank you! Thank you for the welcome! Hello, Orange County! It's good to be here! Everyone ready for some 100% Pure Cotton?"
He grinned at the resounding affirmative response from the audience. They were in high spirits. Jin was right about the number of drunks. It was less than he'd feared though they seemed the type who had nothing to lose by being completely insane to get his attention. Those were often worse than the hordes of adoring fans since they? Usually had their own sob story about how they'd been wrongfully convicted, needed him to show them how to make a break for themselves now they were out, wanted to know how he'd done it.
Cotton couldn't help those people.
Fame had been something he'd chanced upon, not something he'd diligently pursued.
"Stay slightly to my left," Cotton murmured to Jin as he leaned closer to the guy's ear to be heard by him and only him over the crowd, "Got some graspers over here."
~*~
Jin wanted to wrinkled his nose - the guy had a catchphrase for crying out loud - but he didn’t. He maintained his composure, face blank and impassive. He was a professional, and he’d never betray that he had no idea what the appeal of this was.
He moved more to the guy’s left, and when a rather burly man reached out to try to grab Cotton, Jin was there to grab his wrist, applying pressure to the pressure points in his hand so he’d back off quickly and quietly. Dream abilities helped a lot in his day to day.
~*~
The walk to the raised platform at the front of the club felt interminably long to Cotton until they reached it. He was able to relax, smile naturally, as soon as his foot hit the first step to the stage. Even though there was less than a few feet in height difference between himself and the populace at large, it was enough to make him feel more secure. There were only a few desperate enough to try to storm a stage to get at him; Cotton wasn't anywhere near the height of his notoriety which left him safe as houses he figured.
"Alright, alright! Glad to see the support tonight! How about we do some questions? Everything is fair game except for my Top Secret book project. Psst," Cotton mock whispered into his mic, "It's an autobiography."
Laughter swelled through the club making him grin in reaction. It was the best he could manage under the circumstances. There would likely be a string of questions which were always the same:
-When he was in prison, what kept him going? -Did he think he would ever see freedom again? -Had anyone stood out to him during his incarceration? -What advice would he give someone in his situation: an innocent man behind bars for a crime he didn't commit?
Cotton gave the rote answers with charm enough to spare. He didn't hesitate or linger over them. There was no point in it. He knew the next string would wind up focusing on his personal life. People always wanted him to tell them whether it was true or false on which starlet he was supposedly having a secret affair with this week. If he got laid half as much as people talked about him getting laid in the tabloids, Cotton figured he could have went on to have a fantastic career in porn.
Time seemed to speed up and then crawl by until his appearance duties were over and he was able to tell the DJ to start the club music going so people could "Celebrate Freedom" with him- a slogan which had propelled him to fame in the first place.
"Okay, Jin. Here's the tricky part: get me off this stage and out that door without anyone trying to hump me, kiss me, hug me, or drag me into a dance."
~*~
Jin just stood to the side, in the shadows. It made him respect the guy more that he handled the questions as well as he did. Jin was a super private person, and he’d never have responded to any of those questions. They were so personal, so intimate, that Jin knew immediately he could never do a thing like this.
He continued to study the crowd, watching them with a detective’s eye. There was one woman in particular who had crept closer to the stage the entire evening and wasn’t afraid of throwing elbows. She was going to be trouble.
At Cotton’s prompting, Jin started to assist him toward the exit. With a flick of his wrist he summoned one of his magic arrows. While he didn’t have his bow with him, it could still be useful. Tossing it to the ground at the feet of the throng, it functioned as a flashbang. A large blast of light filled the room, and Jin wrapped an arm around Cotton’s shoulders before skillfully guiding him to the exit and outside.
“Do you have a car waiting?”
~*~
Talk about leaving with a bang, Cotton laughed at the flash bomb going off. He'd never left with quite so much pomp or circumstance. Usually he had to elbow his way out to get away unscathed and he rarely managed totally unscathed. It was a falsity men didn't care if they were groped. Cotton cared. Too many people had placed hands on him against his will for him to take it for granted now. It bothered him more than he'd ever admit---except was he going to talk about it in his book?
He constantly thought on what he should put into the book. How far should he take it? What did people really want to know?
There was such a thing as Too Much Information; Cotton was afraid he might accidentally slide into that category if he weren't careful.
"Yeah," Cotton pointed to the black sedan waiting at the edge of the alley, "That's my friend, Dumbo. He's called that on account of his desire to fly, not because he's got big ears. Great guy. Drives like the road's on fire. Thanks for taking care of me, Jin. You have literally made this the easiest in and out of my life. If we ever run into each other again? Remind me to buy you a drink of your choice."
Cotton gave him a farewell salute as he made his way to the waiting car, glad to be going home with the appearance behind him.