The First Photoshoot

Nova Cari College, the community college of Rai Island had a large and comfortable campus. Though only a little more than half as massive as Valevay, it was still impressive. It shared it's library with the nearby high school and a few of it's buildings, like the gym, planetarium and so forth. Located close to Northside Samo District, it had the easiest access to the Wayward Convenience Store, the Ninatu Animal Hospital, the Amore Mall and a nearby gas station. Not that the college couldn't provide everything it's students required. All of it's resources were top notch and where it sat on the island was a prime location. The sky was a beautifully pristine blue and was dotted with white fluffy clouds that slowly rolled by overhead. Lush green grass grew thickly over the small, yet gentle slopes the buildings sat upon. Birds sang as they flew overhead, a few of them swooping down to hop around in the flowers.

The sound of screeching brakes broke the peaceful tranquility of nature as a beat up, light blue pickup truck peeled into the nearest parking lot, rounding a corner on two wheels. And in the driver seat, grinning like a psycho with a mostly gone cigarette clenched between his teeth, was none other than John Wilder. "Heh heh heh... Woo!" The nineteen year old whooped as he yanked the steering wheel to the right and did a couple donuts before whipping into a parking spot. His older brother Terry was standing not too far away, trying to look admonishing, but failing miserably. The drummer would have loved to be in the truck with him for that.

"You're an asshole." Terry greeted John, as he hopped out of the truck and slammed the door with a total lack of grace, "Anyway, I already let campus security know that you'd be coming here frequently because you're helping one of the clubs. Here's your parking pass... put it in your back window on the right and your truck won't get towed. And try to behave yourself, John." The older brother handed over the sticker decal and John huffed at him, but stuck it to the back window. Once it was affixed to the glass of the rusty old truck, John blew out a ring of smoke and surveyed the college.

It looked... like a college he guessed. College hadn't ever really appealed to him much. Well, he was going to have to get used to coming here, despite not being a student. This was where Celi's design team was sure to primp, fuss and 'pooh-pooh' over him, dressing him up and all that shit. Ugh. At least he was getting paid for all this junk. And he would get to spend some time with Celi while he was at it, so it couldn't be all that bad. As frustrating as she could be, she was pretty and fun to play with. And he'd need a good distraction from all this fashion mumbo jumbo. "Where's the design team located, Terry?"

"Hell if I know. I think it's in that building, but I'm not sure what floor." His brother responded, pointing out the building, "I've got a few classes coming up, so I won't be able to go with you. See you at dinner." And with that, the drummer sauntered off towards one of the other buildings, but still called back to him, "And put that shit out!" Grumbling, John ignored his brother and puffed on his cigarette all the way up until he reached the building in question, having passed a few 'No Smoking' signs on the way. There was another sign on the door and he grudgingly threw the butt to the ground and stomped it out, blowing out the last of the smoke from his lungs before heading inside.

After searching through the first floor and attempting subtlety at peeking inside, John found a staircase and proceeded to search the second floor. Again, he had no luck. Scouring the third floor had him slightly annoyed, because he'd gotten McDonald's on the way from his contractor job and the soda was getting to him. So it was back down to the first floor, where he had last seen the men's room. There had also been one of the third floor had he been paying attention, but now it was too late. By the time he reached it, his slight annoyance was starting to build. Because right after he had unzipped to use the urinal, one of the male students walked into the restroom... and decided to use the urinal right next to his.

Didn't the boy know that public bathroom etiquette clearly states that you should NEVER use the urinal to the immediate left or right of someone who's already at one?! Deciding to hold his temper, John tried to ignore the boy to his right. That is, until he realized that the guy was enviously staring straight at John's... package, obviously wishing he was built like that. The expression on the fighter's face darkened considerably as he turned his icy cold glare at the offender, his teeth clenched together. "H-hello. Are you a new student?" The boy asked, to which John replied, "Just let me pee."

But the student wasn't about to be put off. If he wasn't mistaken, and he was sure he hadn't been, this was the infamous "Rodeo" from the arena. A lot of people were scared of this man and he was said to be rather dangerous, so if he could put on a tough front and maybe get on his good side, he'd get attention from all the girls. "You fight at the arena, don't you? I hear you're pretty tough -" He began, but was interrupted when John snapped, "I'm trying to pee!"

Damn, this guy's annoying! The Wilder thought as he tried to relieve himself without being bothered. John even slightly turned away from the student in an attempt to prove that he didn't want - or need - conversation when nature called. If there was one thing he couldn't stand in public restrooms, it was people who felt the need to talk to him while staring at his junk. But when the offender made another attempt at conversation, John's patience finally snapped. He turned to the guy and pointed his trouser snake right at him with his thumb over the hole, effectively spraying the unsuspecting target with urine. When he finished, he simply tucked it back in, zipped his jeans, washed his hands and calmly left the restroom.

Whistling to himself, John made his way up the flights of stairs to the fourth floor as if nothing had even happened at all. Luckily, he found the room occupied by Celi's designer team within a few moments and he walked in without knocking. There was a guy with spiky white hair, a girl with a short black bob and glasses, an effeminate blond guy who John assumed to be Gala, a girl with long black pigtails who John wasn't totally sure was female, and of course Celi. "Hey." He said simply, stopping and towering over literally everyone in the room.

"Now what makes you automatically think that I've done something wrong?" John questioned the young designer, quirking a brown eyebrow at her, "You really think I'd start trouble before I even got up to this room?" He gave her what he hoped looked like an innocent look, but when he saw her cross her arms and give him a pointed look that said she was savvy to his hijinks, he shrugged. "Don't get your panties in a twist. It's not like a beat someone within an inch or their life or anything...yet."

Look at that cute face she's making, she's so mad. John thought in obvious amusement as he stared down at her in all his scary, intimidating glory. Leave it to Celi to get all upset with him as soon as she saw him, despite the fact that he'd only come here for her. The way she pursed her lips and huffed at him was just about the cutest thing, but he wasn't about to tell her that. Not in front of a bunch of other people that he didn't even know yet, anyway. Was she really that worried that he was going to do something that could get himself or both of them in trouble? Yeah, probably. The girl was a worrywart, after all. He supposed that he should probably just come clean and tell Celi what happened.

Lowering his voice a little so that it wouldn't carry very far, John leaned towards her with a grin reminiscent of the cat who ate the canary. "All right, I'll tell ya. I had to stop and take a piss and this idiot wouldn't stop talking to me and starin' at my junk in the men's room. So I pissed all over him." A somewhat sinister laugh escaped his lips as he told her of his trip to the toilet with no sense of guilt or remorse whatsoever. "It was great. He was so shocked, he couldn't even react."

As Celi's musical laughter filled the room, he couldn't help but chuckle along with her. For a moment, he thought she was going to get upset with him, but apparently that wasn't the case. It was pretty funny to piss all over that guy, after all. And with the magenta haired designer laughing like that because of John, it made him smile unconsciously. There was a little tug on his heart strings when he realized that he liked to make her laugh.

But then John remembered what he was there for and looked around all the rest of the people who were gathered in the former classroom. Some were staring at Celi like she had gone insane, while others were staring at him with a mix of fear, mistrust and confusion. Great. It was just like being out in public. "So," The combatant began, scanning all the faces in the room, "where do we start?" Having just gotten out of work, John was still dressed as a contractor. His faded blue jeans, gray t-shirt, work boots and tool belt were all slightly spattered with some dried, beige-like white stuff that seemed like it used to be liquid. His cowboy hat, however, was void of any dirt.

John looked at each member of the design team as Celi introduced them to him. So he'd guessed correctly when he'd figured the effeminate blond guy in the 'fabulous' outfit was Gala. The same Gala who had called Celi's cell phone when John had had her against the wall and had been about to tear her clothes off. And then he'd had the audacity to offer to beat the Wilder up. What was the guy going to do, bitch slap him? Give him a manicure? Had it not been for this guy, John would have surely nailed Celi that night and gave her one hell of a ride. He wasn't sure if he should thank him or strangle him.

Max was a guy with spiky white hair that stuck out all over the place. He looked like one of those guys that could be considered smooth, but looks could be deceiving. He wasn't going to do any guesswork on this guy until he actually interacted with him first. The girl with the short black bob haircut and glasses was Clair. She looked like one of those types who were all business, but the wasn't always bad. Wasn't always good, either. The last one, Lexi... well, John had no idea what to think about that one. Was Lexi just a genetically unlucky chick or a crossdressing guy? He wasn't sure. But he figured that most of these people might be more comfortable around John if he brought someone to bridge the gap and was interested in both music and fashion. Idly, he considered bringing Bowie with him next time, provided Celi didn't try to forcibly 'fix' his fashion sense. John gave the members of Celi's team a nod and said, "Yo."

As each member of Celi's team greeted them in their own ways, his icy blue eyes leveled on them. Well, that definitely gave him a little insight on each one's personality. It looked like half her team had manners and that was better than none of them. But they did deserve some credit. At least they had spoken to him and they weren't running from him. But the majority of the team was all wondering the same thing: exactly how familiar was he with their leader and was their relationship an intimate one? Or as Max so delicately put it, did he want to bang her? Well, duh. Of course he did - not that it was any of their business.

"You know, I wasn't expecting to come back to my dressing room after a fight to find someone that wanted to offer me a modeling job of all things." John said bluntly, though there was some amusement in his voice, "She'd even busted my manager in the nuts for being a filthy pig. Gave me a good laugh. So, she took my measurements, started on the clothes and now I'm here for... whatever." The combatant made a gesture with his hand that was dismissing. In other words, Celi had called John and asked him to come to the college. He complied, but had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to be doing there.

He quirked a brow at Celi in surprise. It had been only been just a few days since she had scouted him out at the arena for help, took his measurements and they... got to know each other a little. And she was already done with two or three outfits? John had to admit, he was actually impressed. There was no way he could have done that, but then again, fashion wasn't really his thing. He could sew a small tear in clothing, but it wouldn't look too nice. He could also sew a wound shut with the same results, which was part of the reason all of his tattoos were black.

Thankfully, it was not up to him to sew. No, all he had to do was try on the outfits so that Celi could make sure they fit him correctly and follow her instructions. And do a photo shoot. The fighter winced a little, but nodded anyway. Hopefully, they wouldn't tell him to make stupid faces. He still couldn't believe he was going through with this, but going back on his word and letting the young designer down was something he couldn't bring himself to do. The magenta haired beauty seemed to have her heart set on having him model her clothing and he was going to keep his promise to her, even if he had to force himself. "All right then, let's get started."

Well, he had to hand it to her - Celi really knew how to get right down to business and get things done. That was both a relief and a source of uncertainty. The college designer was doling out orders left and right, knowing what she wanted done and how she was going to have it accomplished. And her team members were right on the ball, hopping to it with a practiced ease.

John, however, had no practice when it came to this sort of thing. In fact, he only felt like he was more or less in the way as the team worked to get things rolling. He had absolutely no idea what Celi was going to want from him, but if she wanted him to attempt good behavior, he'd certainly try. Whether or not it turned out well was another story entirely. But with the idea of wearing makeup of any kind, he wasn't feeling particularly thrilled. And Gala had to clean the dust from the sheet rock work John had done from the Wilder's hair. What for? "Celi." He lowered his voice, but still asked. "What gives? Can't I just clean it out myself?"

No one had had to wash his hair for him since he was in early grade school. The Wilder boys learned how to manage on their own at early ages since there was usually younger siblings their parents had to tend to and John wasn't really used to having other people to things for him. Especially dudes. He didn't really like the idea of dudes fondling his hair or body. Nonetheless, he shrugged his shoulders at her and decided to say, "You really think that'll save time? Just thought it'd be faster if I did it, since I get a full shower in two minutes everyday. We do have eleven of us and only one bathroom, ya know."

Celi was going to offer to wash his hair if he'd refused to have Gala do it? The idea sounded nice, but wasn't an option now. Had he known that, he'd have pointedly refused. Then again, there was no telling how well she'd do or if she'd be tough on him for giving her a hard time. And he was probably better off doing it himself anyway. The last thing the fighter wanted right now was any sexual tension in front of her teammates. If the infamous "Rodeo" looked like he enjoyed being pampered, there were sure to be rumors going around the Island before sundown. Hell, he was modeling, for crying out loud! Rumors were going to be unavoidable regardless. But any extra information that people didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Walking over to the sink, John turned on the water. Without testing the temperature, he squeezed some shampoo into his hands, dunked his head under the faucet and scrubbed quickly. It went from cold to lukewarm, then scalding, but he didn't so much as grunt. John turned off the faucet and squeezed out his hair, grabbing a nearby towel and drying his wet hair. The whole thing took about a minute, then he pulled a small black comb from his back pocket and tugged it through his thick, damp hair roughly. When he was satisfied, he shoved it behind him and put his hat back on while his hair was still damp. "Done."

Having nothing to do, John simply leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, not really interacting with anyone at the moment. Celi's design team all knew what they were doing and he figured that if he stopped any of them, it'd only serve to slow them down. So he didn't bother. When they needed him, they'd let him know. Until then, he was just going to keep to himself and stare at the floor. It was unlikely his good behavior would last otherwise.

Catching the belts that Max tossed to him, he slipped the end of one of the belts through the loops of his jeans, threading it through before buckling it. It fit him comfortably enough. The other belt...was he supposed to wear it at the same time? He guessed so. Deciding Celi would say something if she didn't want him to wear it like that, John slipped that one around his waist as well, buckling it as well. "They fit fine." He said to Max, then readjusted his hat. Was this really all there was to it? Hurry up and wait? A frown creased his features as he pondered that train of thought. It better not be, wasting time wasn't really his bag.

Unbeknownst to him, John was still frowning quite visibly when Lexi approached him with a pair of black cowboy boots with silver trim. The feminine boy was obviously very nervous around the hot-headed arena fighter to begin with, but the man's sour expression wasn't helping. Add to that, the fact that John was more than a foot taller and had at least eighty pounds more muscle than him and it was no wonder he looked like he wanted to run in terror. "All right." Taking the boots from Lexi, he toed off his own and slipped on the new ones. They fit rather comfortably. It surprised him, considering he had yet to meet Mimi. The girl was good, he had to give her that. "I like these, they fit well." John said, trying not to scare the shorter boy.

When Lexi had scampered off to go help Max, John quirked an eyebrow. The two of them were having a hell of a time with that one lamp. It couldn't be more than thirty to fifty pounds, but the umbrella shaped light seemed rather awkward to move around. As John was moving to go help the two, his cell phone rang. Who in the seven hells would possibly be calling him right now?! Looking down at the screen, the name "Bowie" appeared as the ringer sounded. The fighter hadn't heard from him in a while, but then again, the guy wasn't known to be on the phone a lot. John answered the phone with a, "Yeah."

"And a fine 'hello' and 'how do you do' to you too." The voice on the other end replied, "Classy as usual, I see." By the sound of his voice, he had just woken up. Such was the life of someone who had plenty of money, no strict schedule and made their living as a porn star. John doubted his friend had woken up alone, as it was a normal occurrence for him to have two or three partners (or more) at a time. "Need somethin'?" John asked, getting straight to the point, "I'm at one of my jobs right now."

"How many jobs do you have now? Four? Man, you need to relax and enjoy life. Maybe go take some pretty girl off somewhere and have a little private time with her for a weekend. At least six hours a day. That should fix you right up." Bowie said, sounding as though he was stretching out, "But I'm calling to make sure you and your family come to my party next month. Bring your instruments, a dish to pass and a girl to nail and you'll be all set. By the way... exactly what are you doing for your new job?"

It took a while for John to answer, but when he did, he muttered it quickly. Of course, Bowie made him repeat the muffled and somewhat garbled answer. Apparently 'modeling' hadn't been the answer that his friend expected to hear, judging from the laughter emanating from the phone. After assuring him that he was indeed modeling and not trying to pull some prank, Clair's announcement reached his ears. After a quick goodbye to his friend, he focused his attention on Celi as she came out. His icy blue eyes widened in surprise. Was she wearing what he thought she was wearing?!