Post by irobin on Nov 25, 2010 8:00:11 GMT -5
"And I..."
He smirked, pausing for a moment and leaving the ending of that sentence up in the air. He knew what he was going to say, she did too. Hell, the whole bar knew what he was going to say, but he liked to stop and pause just long enough for doubt to set in. What if he didn't say it? What if he said something else? Something that nobody expected? What if he said nothing and went home instead? What if he just did something totally unexpected, and began making love to her there and then?
No, that wasn't his style. Not at all. He was cool and calm, and that the thought had even crossed his mind was as fascinating as it was concerning. He had been thinking a number of strange thoughts recently, often more aggressive than before, but he attributed that to the recent changes in his life. Not that long ago, he had said something that nobody expected and it had caused a number of changes over the last few months...
-----
Mid-July
-----
"Jace, get over here! Is this true? You're ditching me? After everything, you're just walking away?"
"It's a done deal, Simon. The contracts have been signed and you haven't found me any work since last year, so I don't owe you anything."
With that, the conversation was over. The short, stocky Caucasian with the New York Cabbie accent slumped back into his seat and sighed, pulling a box out of the breast pocket of his jacket. Opening the small tin, he took out a cigar and lit it, taking a lengthy drag before staring up at Jace.
"You're still here? Get out! Ungrateful bastard..."
Jace didn't need to stick around. He was done here and wanted to leave, now his agent wanted him gone too, so the obvious thing to do was to head out of the office and into the rest of the world. However, he had spent a lot of time in this place over the years and, for posterity, he felt the need to take it all in one last time.
Currently, the most obvious thing in the room was Simon Marshall, Jace's former agent as of about a minute ago. Simon was in his early forties but looked to be in his late fifties thanks to his cigar habit, which he had "kicked" several times over the years, only to find it again all too easily. As such, the room always smelt of cigar smoke, rich and heady, it filled the room whether or not Simon was smoking at the time and sometimes provided a fog akin to that of a Private Dick's office of the 1930s. The room itself was full of dark mahogany furniture, which, combined with the dark carpet and small window made the whole place seem very dark and pokey. A bit seedy, perhaps, Jace mused. The main item of furniture in the room was Simon's desk, large, dark and expensive, it was accompanied by similarly regal armchairs, one of which was occupied by Simon's ample body. He filled the chair, and then some. However, with his ever-expanding beer gut and nearly bald head, he looked very out of place in this room. Not because his bright yellow shirt was an awful contrast to the mahogany desk, but because of the walls. No, they weren't mahogany either, they were a pale cream (Possibly white, originally, Jace had often thought) colour. However, on the walls, the window sill, the cabinet at the back of the room and most of the other surfaces, there were photographs. Hundreds of photographs of people of all ages and races, male and female, some smiling, some pouting, some posing for the camera, but the one thing that they all had in common was obvious. They were all beautiful. Or handsome, if you have a problem with calling a man beautiful. When surrounded by all these photographs of good-looking people, Simon had no chance of fitting in. Despite it being his room, his office, his company, he still looked out of place among all the beautiful smiling women and handsome brooding men.
Jace's picture was among them. It was a black and white photograph from about six years ago and it featured Jace stood on the roof of some building in a casual, but expensive suit. The background was a city skyline and featured a helicopter in the distance, its searchlight shining at the camera from just behind Jason, framing him with a sort of aura.
This was a modelling agency, a successful one, too, despite the old-fashioned style of the room. It had been founded by Simon in his youth and despite being an ugly sweaty man, he had some skill as a talent spotter and a trainer. Over the years, he had picked up plenty of contacts and was now quite a name within modelling circles, with many young models asking him to be their agent and lead them on the path to fame. Jason's photograph was from his first shoot for a big company, it had been part of a televised advert for "Titanium", a popular men's cologne that was marketed as the smell of heroes or something similarly ridiculous. Jace had often remarked that, were it not for the few seconds at the end of the advert showing the name and bottle, no-one would ever know what the product actually was. In any case, it had been his first big shoot and had earned him and Simon a lot of money. It was the first of many, as the "Titanium" campaign ran for several months and when it was over, Jace was considered to be hot property. There were many companies lining up to hire him as the face of their brand, and no shortage of shoots and interviews for magazines and daily shows. Jace wasn't exactly an icon or a household name, but he was certainly known and in demand.
Jace was a good-looking guy, tall, slim, dark and muscular. That sort of "designer" stubble that seems to be all the rage and a nice smile to match the body. He was cool and charismatic, so modelling was a bit of a no-brainer for him as a career.
However, that felt like a long time ago now. Jace had done shoots for fragrances, watches, cars and plenty of other products. He had done shoots for health magazines and advertisements for gyms, thanks to his chiselled physique. Unfortunately, the work had dried up over the past year or two, and that certainly wasn't Jason's fault. He was still as attractive as ever, still regularly hitting the gym and still keen to work. Simon had changed focus, he had hired a young blonde girl called Danni about two years back and all of his attention went on her these days. She was attractive, no doubt about that, but the first rule in this business was not to get involved with your clients. Keep it professional at all times.
As Simon became more and more interested in this girl, he lost interest in his other models and many jumped ship early on, moving to other agencies without a second thought. Jace, however, had got his big break thanks to Simon and felt that he owed him some degree of loyalty. At first, Jace was alright, still getting work as normal, it was easier with other models leaving the agency as there was less competition for work, but Simon stopped bothering with Jace too, and his last shoot was now several months ago and had been for a supermarket, rather than the usual glamorous high-end products that Jace was used to advertising.
That had been the sign to Jace to get out, so he began looking at alternative modelling agencies and even considered giving acting a shot, having done a bit of it in the adverts he had shot. However, talking to a friend of his at the gym, he began to consider something different. Professional Wrestling.
It was certainly different, but Jace dismissed it as a passing craze. Jason Ambrose? A professional wrestler? Don't be ridiculous. He was a model. A pretty boy. Sure, he was strong and agile, but he wasn't a fighter. Certainly more of a lover than a fighter. Jace didn't need the money, either, he had plenty, work was more about keeping himself busy and famous.
Later, he had gone out to a bar with some friends, met a few girls, had some fun and wound up returning home at about 4am. Flicking on the TV, he found himself watching some old classic wrestling on one of those sports channels with nothing better to show at this time. After an hour of classic brawling action (and another hour of drinking), Jace found himself mimicking some of the moves he had seen, using the sofa cushions. Short of destroying his living room, Jace dug out his phone and made a confused drunken call to a friend.
The next morning, he awoke with a hangover and a voicemail, telling him he had an "audition" of sorts and that he had best be there, having made the call at 5am.
That was pretty much it. Jace spoke to a few trainers, showed them his acting abilities and general fitness and managed to get some training in return so as to begin on the road to becoming a professional wrestler. Having worked the independent scene for a while, he received a contract offer from the EUW and began training for his big debut.
It had been a pretty snap decision, fuelled largely by alcohol. When he mentioned it to friends, they thought he was mad. Giving up on an easy, successful modelling career to enter the gruelling world of professional wrestling? Maybe he was mad. Jace didn't mind, he enjoyed the challenge and was keen to try his hand at something new.
Snapping back to reality, he took one last look around the dingy office and headed for the door, making his exit from professional modelling, and taking the first step towards a career in professional wrestling instead.
----
Back to the present
----
"And I..."
Jace was still holding his line, not finishing it and as the girl began to look a little concerned he flashed a good-looking smile.
"...Will see you later."
The girl smiled, a look of relief flashing across her face as she headed away from the bar and back to her friends to tell them that not only had she just spent fifteen minutes chatting to Jason Ambrose, but that she was going to be seeing him again later. Jace smiled, took a sip of his drink and turned back to lean against the bar, surveying the rest of the club.
They did see each other again later, and it was sexy. With Jace, it always was.
He smirked, pausing for a moment and leaving the ending of that sentence up in the air. He knew what he was going to say, she did too. Hell, the whole bar knew what he was going to say, but he liked to stop and pause just long enough for doubt to set in. What if he didn't say it? What if he said something else? Something that nobody expected? What if he said nothing and went home instead? What if he just did something totally unexpected, and began making love to her there and then?
No, that wasn't his style. Not at all. He was cool and calm, and that the thought had even crossed his mind was as fascinating as it was concerning. He had been thinking a number of strange thoughts recently, often more aggressive than before, but he attributed that to the recent changes in his life. Not that long ago, he had said something that nobody expected and it had caused a number of changes over the last few months...
-----
Mid-July
-----
"Jace, get over here! Is this true? You're ditching me? After everything, you're just walking away?"
"It's a done deal, Simon. The contracts have been signed and you haven't found me any work since last year, so I don't owe you anything."
With that, the conversation was over. The short, stocky Caucasian with the New York Cabbie accent slumped back into his seat and sighed, pulling a box out of the breast pocket of his jacket. Opening the small tin, he took out a cigar and lit it, taking a lengthy drag before staring up at Jace.
"You're still here? Get out! Ungrateful bastard..."
Jace didn't need to stick around. He was done here and wanted to leave, now his agent wanted him gone too, so the obvious thing to do was to head out of the office and into the rest of the world. However, he had spent a lot of time in this place over the years and, for posterity, he felt the need to take it all in one last time.
Currently, the most obvious thing in the room was Simon Marshall, Jace's former agent as of about a minute ago. Simon was in his early forties but looked to be in his late fifties thanks to his cigar habit, which he had "kicked" several times over the years, only to find it again all too easily. As such, the room always smelt of cigar smoke, rich and heady, it filled the room whether or not Simon was smoking at the time and sometimes provided a fog akin to that of a Private Dick's office of the 1930s. The room itself was full of dark mahogany furniture, which, combined with the dark carpet and small window made the whole place seem very dark and pokey. A bit seedy, perhaps, Jace mused. The main item of furniture in the room was Simon's desk, large, dark and expensive, it was accompanied by similarly regal armchairs, one of which was occupied by Simon's ample body. He filled the chair, and then some. However, with his ever-expanding beer gut and nearly bald head, he looked very out of place in this room. Not because his bright yellow shirt was an awful contrast to the mahogany desk, but because of the walls. No, they weren't mahogany either, they were a pale cream (Possibly white, originally, Jace had often thought) colour. However, on the walls, the window sill, the cabinet at the back of the room and most of the other surfaces, there were photographs. Hundreds of photographs of people of all ages and races, male and female, some smiling, some pouting, some posing for the camera, but the one thing that they all had in common was obvious. They were all beautiful. Or handsome, if you have a problem with calling a man beautiful. When surrounded by all these photographs of good-looking people, Simon had no chance of fitting in. Despite it being his room, his office, his company, he still looked out of place among all the beautiful smiling women and handsome brooding men.
Jace's picture was among them. It was a black and white photograph from about six years ago and it featured Jace stood on the roof of some building in a casual, but expensive suit. The background was a city skyline and featured a helicopter in the distance, its searchlight shining at the camera from just behind Jason, framing him with a sort of aura.
This was a modelling agency, a successful one, too, despite the old-fashioned style of the room. It had been founded by Simon in his youth and despite being an ugly sweaty man, he had some skill as a talent spotter and a trainer. Over the years, he had picked up plenty of contacts and was now quite a name within modelling circles, with many young models asking him to be their agent and lead them on the path to fame. Jason's photograph was from his first shoot for a big company, it had been part of a televised advert for "Titanium", a popular men's cologne that was marketed as the smell of heroes or something similarly ridiculous. Jace had often remarked that, were it not for the few seconds at the end of the advert showing the name and bottle, no-one would ever know what the product actually was. In any case, it had been his first big shoot and had earned him and Simon a lot of money. It was the first of many, as the "Titanium" campaign ran for several months and when it was over, Jace was considered to be hot property. There were many companies lining up to hire him as the face of their brand, and no shortage of shoots and interviews for magazines and daily shows. Jace wasn't exactly an icon or a household name, but he was certainly known and in demand.
Jace was a good-looking guy, tall, slim, dark and muscular. That sort of "designer" stubble that seems to be all the rage and a nice smile to match the body. He was cool and charismatic, so modelling was a bit of a no-brainer for him as a career.
However, that felt like a long time ago now. Jace had done shoots for fragrances, watches, cars and plenty of other products. He had done shoots for health magazines and advertisements for gyms, thanks to his chiselled physique. Unfortunately, the work had dried up over the past year or two, and that certainly wasn't Jason's fault. He was still as attractive as ever, still regularly hitting the gym and still keen to work. Simon had changed focus, he had hired a young blonde girl called Danni about two years back and all of his attention went on her these days. She was attractive, no doubt about that, but the first rule in this business was not to get involved with your clients. Keep it professional at all times.
As Simon became more and more interested in this girl, he lost interest in his other models and many jumped ship early on, moving to other agencies without a second thought. Jace, however, had got his big break thanks to Simon and felt that he owed him some degree of loyalty. At first, Jace was alright, still getting work as normal, it was easier with other models leaving the agency as there was less competition for work, but Simon stopped bothering with Jace too, and his last shoot was now several months ago and had been for a supermarket, rather than the usual glamorous high-end products that Jace was used to advertising.
That had been the sign to Jace to get out, so he began looking at alternative modelling agencies and even considered giving acting a shot, having done a bit of it in the adverts he had shot. However, talking to a friend of his at the gym, he began to consider something different. Professional Wrestling.
It was certainly different, but Jace dismissed it as a passing craze. Jason Ambrose? A professional wrestler? Don't be ridiculous. He was a model. A pretty boy. Sure, he was strong and agile, but he wasn't a fighter. Certainly more of a lover than a fighter. Jace didn't need the money, either, he had plenty, work was more about keeping himself busy and famous.
Later, he had gone out to a bar with some friends, met a few girls, had some fun and wound up returning home at about 4am. Flicking on the TV, he found himself watching some old classic wrestling on one of those sports channels with nothing better to show at this time. After an hour of classic brawling action (and another hour of drinking), Jace found himself mimicking some of the moves he had seen, using the sofa cushions. Short of destroying his living room, Jace dug out his phone and made a confused drunken call to a friend.
The next morning, he awoke with a hangover and a voicemail, telling him he had an "audition" of sorts and that he had best be there, having made the call at 5am.
That was pretty much it. Jace spoke to a few trainers, showed them his acting abilities and general fitness and managed to get some training in return so as to begin on the road to becoming a professional wrestler. Having worked the independent scene for a while, he received a contract offer from the EUW and began training for his big debut.
It had been a pretty snap decision, fuelled largely by alcohol. When he mentioned it to friends, they thought he was mad. Giving up on an easy, successful modelling career to enter the gruelling world of professional wrestling? Maybe he was mad. Jace didn't mind, he enjoyed the challenge and was keen to try his hand at something new.
Snapping back to reality, he took one last look around the dingy office and headed for the door, making his exit from professional modelling, and taking the first step towards a career in professional wrestling instead.
----
Back to the present
----
"And I..."
Jace was still holding his line, not finishing it and as the girl began to look a little concerned he flashed a good-looking smile.
"...Will see you later."
The girl smiled, a look of relief flashing across her face as she headed away from the bar and back to her friends to tell them that not only had she just spent fifteen minutes chatting to Jason Ambrose, but that she was going to be seeing him again later. Jace smiled, took a sip of his drink and turned back to lean against the bar, surveying the rest of the club.
They did see each other again later, and it was sexy. With Jace, it always was.