Soap about a famous person
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:30pm
Thread Topic: Soap about a famous person
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Chase paused, listening for the animal. He knew that he was near once he heard the repeating barks. He stuck his left ear out to determine which direction the noise was coming from. Once he was positive, he stated, "Alright, you are definitely getting him back, now." He started off towards the sound, continuing to say the name to be sure that Rosco was, indeed, getting closer with every step he took.
He secretly wished that the person who was with the canine was ordinary and all alone. He seriously did not want to recognized, which, his disguise wasn't all that clever, but it would work for a regular citizen. If it turned out to be a paparazzi or press member, he was screwed. -
He was more than relieved to hear his dog barking away, having apparently heard their calls. Though, he was worried about why Rosco wasn't coming to him. It sounded like the only reason Rosco sounded closer was because they were walking. "Is he alright? Can you see him?" Cole asked, frantic to be sure that the poor thing wasn't hurt or stuck somewhere.
With the paparazzi man's grip tight, Rosco just kept barking, seemingly aimlessly. He had no idea who was calling his name, but it must be someone who knew who he was! -
After another few moments, the place that the barks were coming from came into view. He squinted, as he wasn't that close just yet. But he did see a dog with the features that the man had explained. He waved his free arm, which seemed to be more like a flail. He took a look towards the other male, making sure that he was still okay.
"He's right ahead. You don't have to worry anymore." He called the dog's name once more, hoping that he would respond to him in order to reassure them both. -
Cole breathed a sigh of relief, upon the confirmation from the stranger that Rosco was okay. "Okay," he murmured, more strongly sure that the stranger wasn't going to try to kidnap him. After all, they were getting closer to his dog, and this guy didn't seem to be giving off any serial-killer vibe. For good measure, he called for Rosco himself, since the dog was more likely to listen to him.
The man was starting to struggle to hold onto Rosco; it was a big dog, that really wanted to rush off to whoever was calling it. He caught sight of the man waving his arm around, and though it wasn't clear who it was, he knew that must be who was looking for the dog, especially because they were walking alongside someone who was sweeping at the ground with a white rod. With a glance in both directions, he jaywalked across the street, still holding onto the dog. -
When he saw that the male with Rosco was coming to them, rather than vice-versa, he ceased his walking. He then noticed the large camera with the man, and that brought up a few guesses of who he might be. One, he was a tourist who felt the need to take pictures of every single thing. Two, he was a paparazzi member who had been sniffing around for a picture for a false story. Or three, it was a newspaper photographer and/or journalist who needed a good story.
Either way, the camera made him somewhat weary, but he dared not to voice his opinion. Instead, he focused on Rosco, who he, even though the animal was quite large, found completely adorable. He had never exactly interacted with dogs, his mother always being allergic. And once he had the liberty of buying his own, he adopted a cat, as he had more experience with them, living with them all of his life. Rosco seemed...like a really ice companion to have around. -
Though a bit thrown off when they suddenly stopped walking, Cole stopped right along with the stranger. It was odd, but it wasn't bad. Soon, he was hearing the skittering of too-long claws (which were in desperate need of a trim, since Cole couldn't do it himself) against the pavement.
Rosco pulled the paparazzi along forward, seeming to lead the way to the blind man. The photographer was more focused on the other man, though, he looked pretty familiar.. In an instant, he recognized who it was, and let go of the dog in favor of picking up his camera and taking dozens of rapid-fire shots. "Chase! Who's this?" He urged.
The dog had sprinted straight to Cole, where he was able to grab hold of Rosco's vest again. He jumped at the sound of rapid flashing sounds, but quickly put it off as paparazzi. Couldn't be for him, so there must have been somebody else nearby. -
Chase's eyes widened at the sudden, extreme amount of pictures. He turned away, pushing his arm up in an attempt to block his face. Great, absolutely great. The very last person that Chase wanted to see was paparazzi. And here he was, standing in front of one. He began contemplating a reasonable response, failing miserably.
"He's just a guy who needed his dog back. And of course, you're the one who had to get it," he spat, a perfectly idiotic way to handle the situation. It was things like this that heated him like a lobster, and that was such a bad thing when it came to being a celebrity. Everyone was always looking for something horrible to say about everyone. -
Cole's bag of groceries still hung off his wrist, the same arm that the strsnger- no, Chase?- was still holding. In the hand on the same arm, he was gripping Rosco's service vest, the dog having calmed down a lot more and sat on the ground.
He was slow enough to realize this stranger was who the paparazzi was was after that he spoke while the photographer belted out more questions, and a reply to the answer Chase had already given.
"So you're saying I shouldn't have caught the dog? Are you two in a relationship? How will this affect your television career?"
Almost simultaneously, "Are you famous?" Cole turned to face Chase better, as if he could see him. -
"Yes, no, agh! No, you did the right thing. No, we are not in a relationship. I just met the guy, for gosh sake. I don't even know his name! And I'm perfectly fine with my career, thank you very much. Now, please, just leave me alone for friggin' once." He turned to the other with a swift movement.
"And yes. Sadly, yes," he answered to the man's question. He wanted to leave quickly, but he feared that the blind man with the dog wouldn't be able to get back to where he needed to go.
"Do you believe that you can make it back to wherever you came from?" he questioned softly. -
This struck Cole as a bad thing. He'd been seen with some famous guy, by the paparazzi, in the middle of Los Angeles. It wasn't a surprise when suddenly , the number of camera flash sounds multiplied and questions were being shot at them by at least five people. With a swallow, the blind man gripped Rosco's vest tightly, in case he tried to run off again. The photographers seemed to be showing up like flies to a light.
The people had actually started asking him questions. "What's your name?" "Are you actually blind? Or is it just a disguise?"
He shifted, trying to think. "Will they follow me?" He asked Chase. If they would, he knew Rosco would be too distracted to take him home. -
"Get off his case," Chase warned, a snarl in his voice, of course directing this to the cameraman.
"And yes, they most likely would. I could try to get a cab if that would be easier for you?" This was more of a question than an offer. He shieled himself and the other from the flashes. Causing a scene was one thing that he wasn't fond of doing, but in order to get away, it may have been necessary.
This reminded of a time, around when he had just taken off in his career, when he had been aiding a woman with a broken leg. They had been spotted, and immediately, every person had the belief that they were together. And they weren't. They hadn't even had a conversation.
He grunted after recalling that event. -
He nodded, hurriedly, wanting to get out of this situation. Too much stimulation, too much going in around for him to be able to comprehend it all at once. It was difficult enough not being able to see, but even worse when he was surrounded by other sounds and unable to determine entirely what was going on.
Cole could hear the difference in Chase's tone, between speaking to the photographers and the less-threatening average citizen. The paparazzi obviously upset him, which was understandable, even if it probably gave him a bad image. But speaking to Cole, he seemed gentler, almost.. More human, less celebrity. -
Chase extended his arm to the street, whistling. A few cabs passed him by, but eventually, one slowed by the side of the two men.
"To your left," Chase told the other, taking a glance back to the paparazzi member.
"Seriously, you guys are insane." He gave a distasteful grimace, opening the cab's door. Instantly thinking of the dog, he questioned,
"Is Rosco well behaved in cars?" -
Hearing the opening car door, and the instruction that it was to his left, Cole collapsed his white guide rod. With a press of a silver button, a spring set off to pop the thing inwards until it was only a bit longer than a pencil. This way, he could stuff it in his pocket before finding the cab door with his now free hand.
"Just fine." He found the door, and from there was able to ease himself down into the back seat. He'd let go of Rosco for a moment, but only had to instruct 'in' to get the dog to hop into the cab right alongside him. Cole scooted down, so he was on the far side and there was room for Chase to get in, if he planned on it.
The paparazzi mob only continued on with their job, snapping photos and asking questions that wouldn't be answered. -
Chase, once he saw that the two were settled into the cab's seat, gave one last statement to the paparazzi. "Leave me alone." He pushed in next to them, shutting the door with a quiet slam. The driver turned to th back seat with a grin.
"Got yerself some Hollerwood pitures?" A hearty laugh escaped his throat, erupting into the car. Chase smiled, relieved he had found a decent person. He observed the scraggly driver's features. He wore an old, beat up hoodie that professed his love for the Orioles. Tattered jeans covered his legs, a hole in the right knee. His face was round and a scratchy beard stuck out on his chin.
"Yeah, we did. Where to, erm...I haven't got your name." He stated, rubbing at his shoulder as he watched the blind man.
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