open to: anyone! [ @vortexstarts ]
As one of Vortex’s first exclusives, Damon knew he amassed a certain kind of fame that made him very, very recognizable to a niche audience. His long and winding career basically spanned two whole decades by this point. He may not have been as active in some of those years as others —attempts at finding a “real” career often led him back to porn— but for better or worse, being the Damon Savage meant being something of a mascot for the studio.
And though he accepted it, that didn’t mean he had to like it. He especially did not like having to spend long hours at the Vortex booth like some goddamned Disney character forced to take pictures with whiny, screaming kids all day. (The adults who stopped by were not at all dissimilar to children.) But still, better this than having to prance around on a float like a dancing monkey, he thought. For an event called Pride, it was ironic how little of that he felt here, and even in his day-to-day life. Folsom Street Fair was much more his speed.
So there he stood, wearing nothing but a teeny-tiny pair of leather shorts, his furry chest exposed to the elements, showing off his incredible abs that were hard-earned for someone now in their forties. The new twinks these days didn’t now how good they had it. After taking a picture with an adoring (and overly thirsty) fan, Damon prepared for the next one before he realized who had come up to him.
“Hello, hello, nice to meet ya—” he begins, before realizing it wasn’t a fan, but someone he worked with at Vortex. “Oh, hey. Didn’t realize it was you. I’m kinda blind from all the flashing in my goddamn face...” he groans, readjusting to natural sunlight. “You need something, bud? Did the suits realize I’m too over-the-hill to be still be doing this?”
