[Jamie Dean]

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Welcome to Los Angeles, California's AKBAR, the gay staple of this particular Los Angeles, neighborhood, only a scant few miles from the trendy, upscale neighborhood of Pacific Palisades. Nicknamed by the clientele who frequented this trendy source of nighttime drinking and entertainment as a 'neighborhood oasis', AKBAR lured men and women, gay and straight, all within it's spacious walls for what they loved best: drinking, mingling, and just generally having a good time at the expense of none.

Inside of AKBAR, all were indeed made to feel welcome with no racism, homophobia, nor simple snobbery tolerated. It was all about having a good time, getting sloppy drunk, and anyone who tried to accomplish anything but with the patrons would find themselves ejected quickly by the rampant security and banned for life. The owner and staff were just that protective of their guests and yes, friends, who walked through AKBAR's doors.

The nightlife of LA was in itself a force to be reckoned with, a rival to none other save for it's close neighbor, San Francisco, and yes indeed, Las Vegas itself. From the velveteen ropes of Hollywood to the techno beat of the trendiest gay and straight dance clubs, the scenes of Los Angeles once the sun descended, came in a variety of flavors -- and boasted as to why this California city was known as the epicenter of entertainment. And the AKBAR, where we were about to descend, was favored by many as the focal point of a night served to be well spent.

The outside was simple, and the only adornment to let visitors know that they had arrived at precisely the right spot was a mere sign above the front entrance, and two plain clothes security watching over those that would enter, and keeping a close watch for the safety of those taking their leave.

The door was opened, and one was reminded of the flush of color that washed over the film screen when the simple shot of black and white Kansas became the vibrant and colorful paradise of the Land of Oz.

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Jamie nodded and laughed.

Jamie: "Yeah! I admit it! I'm a Monster High addict! There? happy? You have all my dirty little secrets!"

Cut to an interior shot in Jamie's home where he stood proudly before a display of Monster High dolls on stands and many others still in their original packaging.

Further back against the wall, resting around the post of his bed, a ball gag was seen dangling.

"Okay maybe we're not entirely ready for all his so-called dirt secrets."

Jamie: "A good friend of mine got me into Monster High, actually. She had posted a link to one of their online cartoons on her Facebook page. I was bored so I watched, and by the end of the night I had finished two seasons' worth and was on my way to the twenty-four hour Wal-Mart to buy my first of many Monster High action figures."

"Action figures?"

Jamie: "Well you don't expect me to refer to them as 'dolls', do you?"

"Is it true that when you're shopping, you prefer to be left alone?"

Jamie nodded.

Jamie: "I guess you could say that. Especially if I'm shopping for books. I know I have a fan or two that has seen me in one of my few professional matches before I joined Sin City Wrestling. Mostly from the California indy circuit. I might even have an adult that recognized me in a Can-Am DVD. They might approach me, and I try not to be rude, but that's my 'me' time. You know?"

"Do you ever tell them no?"

Jamie laughed and held his hands toward himself.

Jamie: "Do I strike you as the type of man that can say the word 'no'?"

He laughed again.

Jamie: "No. I haven't told people no if they want an autograph or for me to pose for a picture. I mean, sometimes I'd like to! Especially if I'm at a coffee shop, trying to read, but I don't."

Cut to a shot of Jamie seated in a corner lounge chair at a Coffee XChange coffeehouse in LA, sipping his drink while reading a paperback.

Jamie frowned and shook his head.

Jamie: "But seriously, why would anyone approach someone when they're obviously trying to read? To me, that's sacred time, you know? I've been engrossed in a book before and someone will try to strike up a conversation and say things like 'What's that you're reading?' or "What's it about?' oh and my personal favorite, 'Is it any good?' Well I don't know! Maybe if you'd leave me alone long enough I might find out!"

"Are there any other little tidbits about yourself that you'd care to share? Little ways you like to relax on a night off?"

Jamie: "You mean besides the glaringly obvious? Ha ha! Well I have to admit that I don't have too many evenings like these, not enough, really, but I am something of a homebody on the rare occasion. I love to kick back at home in front of the telly, order Chinese and just have a Netflix marathon."

"Perhaps one of these days we'd be graced with a visit to your home?"

No sooner said than done!

The cage door to the small elevator of the building slid open and we stepped out into the third floor hallway of the Academy Loft building. The narrow, short corridor to the hall was lined with red brick walls and a wood paneling floor. No decor adorned this small hallway save for a single potted fern on the top of a small table.

The door to the loft slid open and there stood our host, Jamie himself, with a bright smile stood before us.

Jamie: "Heyy! You made it! Just a second..."

He ducked back into his home and after a few moments of confusion on our part, the door opened again and a second young man exited though the frame of the door. he gave us the briefest of smiles before hurrying along his way toward the elevator. Jamie just gave us a coy and knowing look, and with a waggle of his eyebrows, stepped aside to allow us entrance.

"Did we come at a bad time?"

Jamie: "Oh trust me sweety. When you're with me, it's always the perfect time to come."

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Jamie's loft was a pleasure to the eyes, but a bit surprising coming to know of what we might have expected from him.

Jamie: "And what were you expecting? Rainbow flags and framed posters of Marilyn Monroe?"

"Frankly -- yes."

Jamie: "Sorry to disappoint. I don't like to think of myself as any sort of cliche'. Sure I'm a clean freak, love mindless sex and shopping, but that's about where the similarities end. I can't cook. (Last time I tried I set fire to myself. True story!) I don't like labels like the rainbow, and I sure as shit don't like Marilyn Monroe! First off, the woman sucked ass when it came to acting talent. She was boobs, blond hair, and sex, nothing more. Now Kathy Bates? That is what I call an actress!"

"Good to know!"

We set foot inside of his home, bought and paid for and not rented, and we could see the entirety from the get go. It was, after all, an open loft converted into a classic style home. There was nothing but open space inside and no connecting rooms save for the bathroom on the far side. The kitchen was in a little out of the way nook, but aside from the fridge and a microwave, it looked almost untouched.

Jamie shrugged as he guided us along on the self evident tour.

Jamie: "It is, for the most part. I suck at cooking. Literally."

He shared a conspiratorial whisper to the camera, close up...

Jamie: "I would have failed Home Ec in school if I hadn't blown the teacher under his desk."

"Alrighty then! TMI!"

Like the hallway on the outside, the interior walls of the loft was crafted from the same reed brick that encompassed the entire structure of the building itself. The bed was in a far corner, separated from the living quarters by a Japanese silk screen with a purple and white floral print. With the exception of a few necessities, the loft was almost void of furnishings. There was the obligatory bed and dressers, the plasma television and entertainment with an impressive CD, Blu-Ray and DVD collection on a shelving unit, a few end tables, a sofa and recliner. The must extravagant thing Jamie took pride in were the two book cases filled with novels that he had collected over the years.

Jamie: "My friends are always trying to get me to get rid of some of my books for space, but I can't throw  them away. I can't even donate them. They're mine! You know? Who's to say that I won't want to eventually go back to one I've already read and read it again? Be my damn luck I'd get rid of one and then suddenly I got interested in it again."

Other than that, the loft itself was quaint with little to take up the 100 plus feet of open square feet.

Jamie: "I was just never comfortable in closed spaces. Narrow corridors, nooks and crannies. Hell I practically run to get inside my place after I get off that small elevator into an even smaller hall!"

Jamie continued with the tour that, admittedly, was not much of one as everything was out in the open for all to be seen right from the beginning. If there was anything extravagant about the interior of his home, it would be either the paintings, or the walk-in closet stuffed to the brim with the latest in men's fashions.

Jamie: "My friends love to go with me when I go shopping for clothes. They say I run the poor clerks ragged trying to find just the right thing that'll compliment this fine specimen you see before you. Ha ha ha!"

"And the paintings?"

Jamie shrugged and nodded knowingly.

Jamie: "I love art. I always have. I can't draw or paint for shit but I love visiting art galleries when they have an open house (and an open bar). I bought most of my paintings at street carnivals. The artists seem more pure and genuine when they're not all wrapped up within themselves in the drama of those professional showings. This one..."

Jamie walked up to a framed painting that hung on the wall. It depicted an underwater scene of two mermen in a fierce embrace as the sea life teemed around them as if in celebration of what was now between the two mythical lovers.

Jamie: "...This one is my favorite. I always had a thing for mermen. Who knew fish could be hot?"

Jamie was now seated on the sofa in his loft, his ankle kicked up over his knee as we sought to bring our time together to an unfortunate close.

"Well now we've gotten a little taste of the life of Jamie Dean, and we thank you very much for that time."

Jamie held his hands out to the side and a mischievous grin spread on his naturally deep red lips.

Jamie: "I could always show you a little more. You do have the camera prepped and running already."

"Um, thanks. Maybe another time. But for now, we'd like to finally have a word with you about your professional career."

Again, there goes that record scratching and Jamie's raised eyebrow.

"We are, of course, referring to your new career in Sin City Wrestling. After some anticipated hype, you're finally getting the chance to set foot inside of the ring this coming weekend in San Francisco. Is it true that originally you were not scheduled?"

Jamie jetted out his bottom lip but in fact, answered with a nod in the affirmative.

Jamie: "As far as I was told, yeah. It's true. I wasn't supposed to debut until their California tour hit here in Los Angeles, but apparently Kain pussed out of his spot in this big tournament and they called in none other than the 'Excellence of Sexecution' to take his place."

"You are, of course, referring to the opening round match in the second annual Blast From the Past tournament. Do you believe you can fill his shoes?"

Jamie: "Oh hell no. Have you seen the things that guy puts on his feet? (shudder) Kain would do well to shop somewhere else besides Payless for his footwear. But can I take his place?"

Jamie nodded with a sense of self assuredness.

Jamie: Hell yes. Vixen hasn't got a thing to worry about."

"But do you? Wrestling in SCW is a whole other world as opposed to the pro ring and oil pits of say, Can-Am."

Jamie shrugged.

Jamie: "Of course it is! Nobody gets laid as a stipulation after their win! Ha ha! Hell! I'm not worried about what's going to happen in the ring, so why should anyone else be? Except for maybe the opponents."

"You're referring to, of course, Song and Ben Jordan."

Jamie: "I'm not referring to anything as far as the chick on the other team goes. She's not my concern. I know enough to know that my partner Vixen can handle her. My job is handling the Cock King."

"You mean, the Cockney King?"

Jamie paused for a moment of contemplation, and then shook his head in the negative.

Jamie: "No. I mean the Cock King. I've seen the guy in wrestling tights and designer slacks, and if he can maintain a bulge like that in even loose clothes? Trust me! It's 'Cock King' through and through!"

Jamie turned to face the camera head on directly.

Jamie: "Hey Ben? Wanna run me through a time or two with that great big...?"

"Okay then! So you seem pretty confident in your chances in this match, but you can't take a man like Ben Jordan lightly. He was the icon of the ACW, and he's fast on the rise here in Sin City Wrestling."

Jamie: "Who said I was taking him lightly? Cocky, confident, call it whatever you want. Win or lose, I'm going into that match to have fun -- but I fully intend to win. Maybe rub up a little with some man flesh, which is always fun, but winning is a big priority too. I worked hard to finally get my chance at the pros after my time in Can-Am, and Sin City Wrestling? They know what it takes to draw in a crowd. They know what it takes to create a little excitement and a lot of controversy -- and on both counts, nobody does it better than yours truly. I do not intend to let Vixen down, or myself. Ben and Song? Well, we'll just call them unfortunate casualties of circumstance. Song can crawl back to her FoSure tag team partner, and Ben?"

Jamie winked and puckered his lips.

Jamie: "I'd be more than happy to console him for the loss."

"And to those that think you actions in the ring are little more than ring psychology to get them off their game plan?"

Jamie laughed.

Jamie: "Then they'd be dead on wrong because I'm not smart enough to play head games like that! Ha ha! Goldust. Rico. Adrian Street. Those guys were masters of the mind game when it comes to being a big 'mo in the ring. I hate to break this to everybody, but everything you've seen of me so far? The twerking? The hands on involvement? The fun I strive to have inside of the ring? That's all me. That is all one hundred percent Jamie Dean."

What you see is what you get.
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