orangetoughguy | log post II

I can give you a blue and the first shoot of your portfolio today. No contract.

[Long lingering looks like that make him want to jump him right here in the car up the street from his work. Now now, we gotta play this real fucking cool.]

Give it a try. If you like it, we'll talk about a long term commitment. I got a good feeling about you. So. What do you say?

Alright. Maybe a couple pictures won't hurt. But don't try anything funny, man.

[He doesn't tell the old man why, letting his sharp gaze and the slight curl at the corner of his mouth do the talking for him. There's more to Orange than meets the eye. Don't underestimate him, shaded stranger, he might eat his heart.]

[That hand comes off of his shoulder to offer a shake. Innocent and absolutely nothin' to hide. There's so much promise in that look. This scruffy off of the street type can take care of himself.]

It's a deal. You don't have to change. I got just the right location in mind.

[Meaning that it night be dirty too kid.]

Okay. Drive on, my man.

[He waves that cigarette hand before putting it out. Not on the upholstery of course, looks like a company car. Freddy wouldn't method actor that shit or anything, he's no Marlon Brando.]

[Click go the doors to lock. It's nothing. And off they go.]

I got this idea for a kind of blue collar undone kind of deal.

[Not to far of a stretch.

Which is why they're rolling up to a not so pristine looking motel. Not shitty but not too good lookin'. The old man steps out and he's got a suitcase with his camera and film. And anything else he'll be needing.]

After you, sir.

[Into the place.]

[Snort. Freddy can't help but laugh a little. Fortunately it works for his character; Orange is a sort of blue collar working boy city slicker ain't he? It sounds a lot nicer than rough trade hustler too.]

Blue collar. Thought you said class was for the pictures.

[Duh, Newendyke. It's his class being put on display as something desirable. Rich people have all the eccentricities. He shrugs once then looks over to their destination. Typical place that ain't too seedy but does well in concealing activities behind doors. Freddy knows the type from working the beat. What he's really wondering is what's Larry got in the suitcase. Did he really go all out just to have some fun with the kid? It's flattering. He moves to exit the vehicle.]

[Is that the angle Freddy's working? Not no doe-eyed newbie but a seasoned pro at what kind of goods his body has to offer? Whatever it may be Larry's finding it fucking attractive. Oh wait. That's how he feels about the kid anyway. Hah.]

It is. You got it. People think it's expensive cars or money. It's not. Class is all in how you carry yourself.

[Vehicle locked and doors shut, Mr. White leads the way into the building he nods at the person at the counter, an elderly Jewish man either his glasses are so thick they magnify or his eyes are just huge.]

Time starts now, Mister. Pay when you're done.

[Okay so maybe this place is more than what meets the eye. He keeps on walking down the hall and up the stairs.]

[It could all be an act, Freddy Newendyke playing Freddy Newendyke trying to be Mr. Orange. What kid lets on to his naivete in the middle of a situation anyway? Not this one. Besides, Larry seems to like it.]

So what'd you see when you saw me?

[Sure it's fun and games but he's going to take the old man to task too--what. Freddy almost breaks character when he sees the coke bottle grandpa. Right...what's Larry up to. He follows him up regardless.]

[Like it? He loves it. Surely the kid has got to know.]

Confidence.

[The stairs curl upward only once. In the hallway is an older woman in a robe. Her hair is done up and she's smoking a cigarillo. She doesn't say a thing to them but watches blinking a few times with her spidery looking mascara coated eyelashes. Leather boots almost barely peek out from under her robe that moves every so slightly as she rotates enough to step aside against the door frame as though there isn't enough room in the hallway. There is plenty. Larry doesn't even look at her. That's fine, she's looking enough for the both of them.]

Not too far now.

[The old man unlocks a door and hits the lights.

There are about three and they are angled to one side of the room, a corner by the window. The window shows the backside of another building. There's a stool that is illuminated by the lights and away from them just a mattress. There's a toilet and a sink and the pipes that run along the wall opposite the window.]

You gotta have some in my line of work.

[Confidence. Funny, that silky silhouette almost zaps his away. Freddy doesn't panic when he sees the older woman but he wonders what she's all about and why she looks at them (Him? Larry? Probably Larry) a particular way. She doesn't follow them so the kid doubts she's involved, can't ever be too sure around Lawrence Dimick though. The old man knows how to throw curve balls.]

They'll hear me if I scream.

[He notes for White. Back in character again, if the photographer tries anything he doesn't want at least these people will hear him...unless they've been paid off. Hm. Green eyes look over the room now once it's illuminated. Huh. Seedy. Arousing in its own kind of way.] So, what do I do?

I forgot to ask. What is it that you do? I got caught up in my artistic vision.

[Once the kid is on the inside he shuts the door and locks it. While the woman in the hallway was a surprise she could be a verbal prop. The old man smiles as he takes off his glasses.]

Oh I know that they will.

[In a place like this what will it mean though? He approaches the lights with his brief case.]

Have a seat on the stool. I'll get us started.

I work around real tough heavyweights. You gotta know how to treat'em right or they'll just crush you with all the power they've got running around this city. You gotta have magic hands.

[In other words he's a mechanic but it's nice to dress it up even for a little game like this. Freddy shows Larry his bare hands too to emphasize their magic. Who knows if he means torquing a tough nut or torquing a tough nut. Plop. He's on the stool now, knees spread with his hands in his lap.]

Okay.

They appreciate what you do?

[The suitcase is open. Larry crouches enough to pull out the camera. There are other contents but they can stay in. For now the polaroid is all he needs.]

That one's good. Stay still.

[Click. It rolls on out. He tosses it aside.]

You wanna look more casual? Maybe pop open a button or two?

I guess. It pays okay. Sometimes you get money and sometimes you get a friend out of it.

[Said friend is perched at home either napping or chowing down on some papaya. Freddy watches Larry browsing through that case. it's way too big to hold just the polaroid camera, he wonders what else is inside. Definitely not diamonds right? Ah but back to the scene.] Those kind of pictures huh?

[As if the kid didn't know. He gives the dirty old bastard a look then undoes two buttons. Surprise though, he's got a beater underneath.]

Yeah? You live with your friend?

[We all know about that friend. Everyone in this room.]

That's how you get noticed, pal. [Click for another shot.] I don't write the rule book, I just play by it. You're gonna get your money one way or the other. Don't you worry. Stay in your comfort zone. No funny stuff, right?

[Though this old dirty bastard crouches to take a shot of the chest down.]

Try another pose. Pretend that I'm not even here. Get up. Walk around. We got a window but nobody's out there.

Uh huh. He's a real fruit.

[Does he mean the bird or the old man though huh? No reason to clarify and Freddy will keep that secret to himself with a flash of a sly smile. The clicks of the camera keep going off and he wonders just how ridiculous he actually looks in them. Fff Larry's hardly even looking at them. All part of the game. Except the kid's starting to feel a little dopey not knowing how to pose, what to do, he almost feels a bit shy. He's never in his life had someone take this many photos of him.]

I guess I can smoke. You don't mind huh?

[He's lighting up anyway and when he's finished with that Freddy starts taking off his top shirt.]

Oh. One of those.

[At first he was sure Freddy was talking about the bird, now not so much.]

They get around.

[The pictures are to look at later. Blurry or focused they're captured memories. Brown eyes look at him sitting there and know without a doubt he is good looking.]

Not at all.

[There he goes already. Click. And undressing, already? Click. Click. He won't get a frame by frame sequence. That's fine. There'll be more of that.]

That's good, real good. Though I thought you said no funny stuff.

[Larry moves to a different angle but keeps his eyes on the prize.]

That mean I gotta keep my hands off?

They do? [Innocent question, honest, as he streams smoke from his nose. As for the funny stuff he kind of just looks at Larry.] I'm gettin' comfortable.

[Come on is he seriously going to protest? Freddy highly doubts it. Just his beater and jeans now.] What do you want to put your hands on? I'm not a prude, just careful.

So I hear. [Shrug.] Hell of a lifestyle.

[Free as a bird as long as you don't disturb anybody. It should be apparent now he's not talking about the toucan.]

It's good. Just what I want. However...[Larry sets down the camera a second and approaches the kid. He combs back Freddy's hair tousling it. Then he pulls his wife beater out of his jeans a little more on one end. For one second his hand touches against the kid's buckle.]

Undo it.

[Back to the camera he goes. No mistaking it, kid only his buckle and crotch are in the shot.]

However--

[Ffffftfhtf. There he goes, combing him, touching him, but only so much. Freddy's used to more of those paws on him, it's such a fucking tease. Then he issues that command, shit.]

Okay.

[It's just a game, just having fun, just living a dream, and yet the kid's feeling fucking shy. What the hell. He blames Larry, the old man has the scent of power and authority over him, even when it's just pretend. He looks up at those brown eyes then looks down to start undoing his belt. It's slow and meticulous, possibly giving the old man a semblance of frame by frame action. He goes as far as undoing the button on his jeans too but he doesn't pull the zip yet.]

[Click. Click. Each picture falls or is tossed aside. He is trying to keep it casual. They're strangers in this right?]

That's good. Real good.

[And he wants more. Is it hesitation or is Freddy trying to get the old man to really take the wheel?]

How you feeling about it so far? Not too hard. I mean look atcha.

I'm okay. I ain't ever done this before.

[Taken pictures like this, taken pictures. That's all. And that's coming from both Orange and Freddy Newendyke. Of course in the back of his mind he knows what else those words can mean. Between the two of them it kind of carries a particularly special connotation. That's something Larry will always have for himself. He taps ash out to one side, in a tray or something if possible.]

What kinda pictures do you wanna see? [He's going over to the window now, bending just so at the sill.]

There's great material coming out of it.

[As though he has gone the whole nine yards with this kind of a scenario. Larry's had a camera in hand and it wasn't a Polaroid. Whatever happened to it? Chances are he left it at a party where no one knew his name.]

Right there. Stay that way. That's good.

[The old man takes a shot from the side and then moves to the other purposely brushing past his rear but not staying there.]

I want something raw. You're something new and fresh. Today's work is done. Hang loose.

[The brush to his rear doesn't go unnoticed. Idly he wonders if Larry's taken pictures for other people before. He wonders if Larry's had his picture taken. He's a good teenager older than him, the man's bound to have some wild stories.]

Have you had your pictures done?

[He'll dare to ask because talking circles helps keep the kid feeling natural in his role. Orange is taking a devil-may-care smokey lean against the window frame now. He turns to face White, buckle all undone, beater half spilling out. There's a small peek of bare skin too.]

Once at the shore. Nothing big. A few snaps. Not like this.

[Click. Every detail will be recorded if he can help it.]

And a hell of a party once.

[Shrug.]

Is all this gonna stay on? [He gestures from the wife beater to the jeans.] You can but this is missing something.

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