orangetoughguy | log post II

Sounds important.

[That cigarette's done. He rubs it out in the tray before sipping on his fresh bottle. Orange believes White but he can't help asking.] So what can I depend on you to do?

It is.

[A matter of life and death. Well, depending on the errand or time of day. Men like White are in neck deep and sinking. He's come too far to shake apart with nerves alone. There's only one choice: get the job done. Escorting special guests, taking out a motherfucker in more ways than one, being the gorilla at the door...whatever it takes.

For Orange though? What he wouldn't do for the man.]

I can be an extra set of eyes or ears. I can be a lotta things.

[Eyes darken a moment as he takes another long sip.]

An extra set of hands too I'll bet.

[Whatever for well the kid just doesn't specify. It's part of the strange intense dance they've been doing meeting after meeting after meeting. How long can it go on like this? How long are you gonna hide and wait, Newendyke? That ain't like you (yes, it is).]

[That is a magic phrase.]

Yes, yes I can.

[White considers another cigarette as he half turns to face the man.]

All you gotta do is say the word.

[His cigarette's gone and Orange doesn't have the time to light another and make smoke rings in White's direction.]

I swear you got me caught in some fuckin' trap and I just don't know it yet.
[What would he do without a man like White? Probably live to grow old and bitter over living hard and dying fast. Though, White's no spring chicken either.]

If you were really in a trap you could leave anytime.

[Or maybe he doesn't want to. White hopes for that.]

Besides, you haven't asked anything of me.

[Yet. Why not? Is it because the old man is too old? Orange is a decent age. He can get anything he wants from anyone he wants in either direction if he was set on it.

Now that's another empty drink right here.]

[Maybe he doesn't want to but Orange sure as hell isn't gonna say it aloud. That's beyond showing his hand, that's like laying the cards out face up right in front of White. Too much. He's not ready for that (yet).]

You ever think maybe I've got something in mind but I'm waiting for the right moment to tell you so you can't say no? [Sip.]

Don't you know that I wouldn't refuse?

[Fine then. Someone's gotta tip their hand just a bit. Aren't they on the same side? Whatever side that maybe. White isn't completely held up on his own ideas. Orange cannot be entirely free from the scum.]

[For a quiet moment these caramel green eyes just study him, every angle and curve of his face, every line, those brown eyes, his age, his chiseled features. Everything. All of this wouldn't refuse a young man in jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and with a profile like a big tropical parrot?]

You drive a hard bargain.

[Brown eyes are looking right on back. Sure the kid isn't in a suit of his own with all the trimmings but it's what's underneath that counts. And in their meetings he's caught glimpses of what this man is about. Even though he's letting all the bullshit and filth harden his heart there's still pieces that just cannot be replaced.]

It's a standing offer.

[Though a no is a no. Would he be willing to offer again if refused? Sure. He can take his hits.]

[Again he's watching, then the kid downs the rest of his beer at warp speed. So the bill's only four beers? Kind of like pocket change considering his offer, but Orange has another idea in mind.]

Let's go for a walk. You do walks right?

[That's another quip, a little joke at the high roller's expense seeing as how he's in such a fine suit, who would mistaken him for rabble?]

[Four beers it is and a tip for the girl working the bar. White raises an eyebrow and looks Orange from the tops of his shoes to the tips of his hair.]

I got legs don't I?

[And so he stands.]

Wearing the nicest shoes doesn't mean keeping them on the ground.

[Orange remarks with a casual shrug. Yeah it's a pun, but a pun directed at who? He won't say if he's never asked. Up on his feet the dirty blonde sort slips out of the bar with only a slight nod to the girl. Outside he lights another cigarette.]

Lead the way. [To where? Don't know. Anywhere. He wants to see what this man does.]

I gotta keep em somewhere.

[Casual maybe but not entirely carefree. That's the way a guy should be. Out into the night are that seems about as smoky as the bar.]

Aw, come on now, tough guy. [Once again, White leans in.] You got me anyway you want me and you don't say where. It's enough to drive somebody crazy.

[All the same, he steps away. Leading as he was asked.]

[Whoa there, close proximity right out here in the street? Orange doesn't lean back away from him but it is a cause for raising eyebrows. It's the words White uses that bring a warm flush color to his cheeks. Definitely not the beer.]

Maybe I'm lookin' for the place where you want to be put.

[He counters over a puff of smoke. He never promised he'd put the old man there, that's the catch.]

[White doesn't turn around completely but throws a smile over his shoulder.]

You gonna keep talking or follow along?

[Because the old man's going up the street toward that strip of motels with the neon light signs are the only bright things in the night besides the man's face.]

[Is he asking if he can walk the walk after talking the talk? Of course he can. Orange is following not quite on White's heels but close enough that anyone can tell they're walking together. He puffs once, twice, then looks up towards those lights. The closer they get the more noticeable the cast of redness it gives them. On Orange it makes his freckles blend in while the blue lights make those light brown dots stand out. He looks over to White when they're on the same sidewalk lining the front of the motels.]

I doubt you come here often.

[He upnods to the low level buildings. They seem far too seedy for White and while the kid's sure White does seedy things the old man also carries himself in a way that suggests he has standards. No rutting every night with a different trick each night. Maybe that's just the fantasy Orange wants to believe.]

Only when I don't want to be found.

[Chances are that is Orange all over. He shouldn't be fond with a man like White. Even when he is looking his best he is still not the same level.]

I got other places.

[Would that be giving a way too much though? How committal is Orange to this? It's like the two of them are playing chicken.]

I got time, show me what you want.

[Would that be giving way too much though? Orange thinks about it, the double meaning is obvious, which part White takes to mean though is out of his control. He streams smoke from his nose. It's chicken without cars, cocks are still involved.]

Keep movin'.

[In the same direction except this time past the visible hotels. The neighborhood is no hoity toity neighborhood that's for sure. White moves to a building. Compared to the others it sure has seen better days. No doorman.]

In here.

[Stepping in he feels a wave of nostalgia. He should because this is a hideout. That alone is incentive to keep going. Some part of him is trusting this kid.]

[Puff puff. He's moving along, watching the shadows. What is White thinking? Does he feel Orange is too easy? Too questioning? He questions the old man's intentions but at the same time he has an idea exactly what they are if they're playing the same game. What Orange ought to question is his own sanity for going along with it. Has he wanted this so badly he'll do anything White says and White's only letting him feel in control? That would be a twist.]

What's the history here?

[Caramel greens look over the building, the door without a doorman. It doesn't look welcoming, just the sort of place where people make do, do what they will because they don't got much else. Just a place for people like Larry during the lower points. He follows the other man in feeling like stepping over the threshold just pulled him into deeper waters.]

One of the many places I go.

[When he needs to lay low. That's not out of the ordinary is it? An elevator would restrict the man if he changed his mind. White hopes and prays that he doesn't. He'd been waiting, watching. They're not quite strangers. It's a given there'll be a big, big pay off.

To the stairs then. White takes off his hat and holds it in one hand.]

Don't worry, big guy.

[This ain't a trap. And he can walk out though why do that when there's so much more to offer. The room isn't far at all. White has a key and opens it up. Something like an oyster, the real riches are inside. Could be White's furnishing because he's here. The man's put down a fur rug.]

I'll bet you've gone far and wide. [No judgment here though, as a matter of fact it intrigues Orange, the way this White conducts his affairs. He thinks he's got the old man's type all figured out but he keeps reeling the kid in using some kind of black magic.] Am I givin' you the idea I'm worried?

[He asks cool as a cucumber to mask his hand again. When they're at the door a dozen images run through his head. Spartan but tasteful? Cluttered but comfortable? Grimy and desperate? What kind of place does White have hidden away, what does his secret look like? Not that Orange thinks the man is ready to give all his secrets away, just the ones he feels secure in giving to a kid. Well holy shit...it's a dead animal.]

You hunt? [It's a joke, he doubts a man like White would skin a beast himself. Could be another one of those double meanings though.]

I'm a traveling man.

[Black magic? Hey now. Could be the kid doing that. He's got a look to his eyes that can't be ignored. Something worth coming back to again and again.]

No. Just hoping to put you at ease.

[The rest of it is littered with souvenirs. Simple, smaller things. Tidy yet lived in. White shuts the door after they've entered. Click of a lock.]

No. Not really. [Brown eyes are on Orange as he says it.] Now. You were saying something? [Hat down. Now he is taking off his coat.]

[He's actually making sure he doesn't get ash on the fur rug.]

I was? If you were listening I guess you can tell me what I was saying.

[Tit for tat, except Orange has already forgotten what that was. White magic, then.]

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