Johnnie meta | Characters

JOHNMETA

WORSTINJURY

Johnnie’s been shot, stabbed and beaten, (sometimes multiple times) at various different points in his life. But when he thinks about ‘worst’, there are only two that come to mind.

Not because they were the most life threatening, but for the sheer, visceral fear of it.

The first was when Fabiano Greco, and Stephan the Crank decided to break his left hand with a tire iron.

The second was when a few guys from the Ricci family decided to leave a message for the Vargassis’ by breaking in his knees with a baseball bat.

Both injuries healed, with a bit of surgical help. But when you’ve been beaten to within an inch of your life, and see someone picking up the bat from the corner of the room? It’s an image that stays with you.

COULDN'TLIVEWITHOUT

Though John has amassed quite a fortune (understatement of the year!) he’s actually not particularly attached to material things. They’re a means to an end, a way to keep up appearances, rather than a necessity.

1. His siblings. So much of his life has been spent providing or protecting them, that he can’t imagine who he would be without them. (Even though their existence is highly secret!)

2. His cell phone. It’s work, it’s connection, it’s his alarm, and a way to contact Hendricks. His life would be made much more difficult without it! (And he has a habit of making sure to turn it off if he’s going to be around wizards for any length of time!)

3. Coffee. Seriously, do not antagonize Johnnie Marcone before he’s had a cuppa, it’s just not safe.

ONLOVE

Love is a blessing, if you’re with someone who makes you happy. Contrary to popular opinion (that claims bad people must have had bad home lives) Johnnie had a very strong example of what a loving marriage looked like. His parents stood together through poverty, death, and the trials of raising fourteen children on the rough side of Chicago.

He’s given toasts at the weddings of some of his siblings, and seen their happiness. And he’s endured the good natured ribbing, and the quiet, sidelong looks.

His brother Joseph has told him, many times, that the world is changing– that maybe what the Business needs is someone to be brave enough to come out. To step up and say, “Yes, I’m gay. Deal with it.”

Johnnie can’t even argue with that, because he might be right. But how could he take that risk when so many people are depending on him to keep the peace? He has work to do, important work. And if that means living in perpetual bachelorhood? Then so be it.

HISSEXUALITY

Many people assume that John Marcone is the sort of man that just has a way with women. But who can’t quite explain how someone charming, handsome, and rich (a trifecta of good things when it comes to dating!) could be unmarried.

Some people remember him from the old Outfit, and the rumours that were whispered behind the back of the Vargassis’ button man.

That maybe there was something a little bent about him. That maybe a few of his friends were more than friends.

As he worked his way up the ladder, people were less willing to gossip about him. But it also meant that he had more of a reputation to uphold. So Johnnie has taken out some truly beautiful women. Keeping up appearances.

He enjoys their company, and lives up to his gentlemanly reputation by seeing them safely home at the end of the night. Or, rarely, the next morning.

Sometimes the whispers reach him, still. But there’s no proof.

It’s not shame, it’s just good business.

ONBROADWAY

John actually has a good understanding of Broadway musicals, and has been in the audience for several opening nights.

Recently, the media had a brief field day when they snapped a photo of him outside the Winter Garden Theatre, beneath the gleaming marquis, with the elated lead actor– New York’s bright and rising star, Joey Lucciano (a stage name, of course) – leaping into his arms.

They had their wild speculations, but the truth was actually quite simple (though neither of them addressed any of the rumours!)

John had told his brother that he simply couldn’t leave Chicago. That he was sorry, but… Business. And that he would try to be there in a few weeks, he promised.

So when things aligned unexpectedly, and John was able to catch a last minute flight to surprise Joey? He’d found himself with an armful of laughing, over-excited little brother.

It had made it all worth it.

His favourite musicals are Jekyll & Hyde, and The Scarlet Pimpernel.
His least favourite is Bare: a Pop Opera (some things are a bit too much like art imitating life).

AFANTASY?

John is unfathomably wealthy, and surrounded by people who are willing and eager to do all manner of wonderful and alarming things, just to make him happy. If he wanted them. He need only ask.

But he doesn’t.

Mostly because that isn’t what he wants.

John’s fantasies are passionate, but not terribly elaborate– when he allows himself the luxury at all. He dreams of firm hands tangled with his. And his.. their’s… his… it just doesn’t matter… pressed down against the tangled sheets.

Of hot kisses smeared down the side of his neck, and a low voice muttering sweet… filthy… wanting… yes, that, wanting– fucking desperate… things against his skin.

He dreams of someone arching up against him. Drowning in sensation. Of being sated and exhausted, and falling asleep with his head pillowed over someone’s heart, with the heavy weight of their arms around him.

No work. No interruptions. No phone calls or emergencies, or hostile takeover bids.

It’s an impossible fantasy, but he can’t forget it.

THEFLIRT

That depends on if people are dealing with Gentleman John, and he’s being charming, and a bit flirty– but ultimately, it’s really just work. Practically a social convention, living up to his well earned reputation.

Or (though this is much, much more rare) if they’re dealing with Johnnie. Just being himself.

With the former, he’s very much the classic gentleman. He flirts with women– holding doors and pulling out chairs. He dances well enough to make it look easy, though he tends to stick to relatively simple steps. He’s a subtle flirt.

Mostly because he doesn’t actually care if they notice, or not. It’s convenient if they do, it tends to fluster people, and put them off their focus. But if they don’t? Then he’d not out anything.

If someone is dealing with Johnnie though, the actual man himself?

There’s a bit of teasing about him. A touch of mischief that he usually conceals under a fabulously worked mask. He’s the sort of flirt that finds excuses to touch them– casually, just a little too close to be entirely innocent.

The former is more likely to buy someone a dozen roses, and have them delivered with a handwritten note.

The latter? Would probably pick a flower from a public park, and tuck it behind their ear!

CELEBRITYCRUSH

Johnnie’s first celebrity crush (and the first crush on a man, that he realized was actually a crush!) was the singer Johnny Steele.

His sisters Jennie and Sophia were absolutely mad for his music; and armed with a cassette they’d painstakingly recorded from the radio, they were determined to wear out the family’s old stereo by playing it on repeat.

It was catchy, 13-year-old Johnnie had thought. But it was background noise. Until he came it on day, to find his sisters positively squeeing over the newest MTV music video.

Jennie likes to claim that that was the moment she realized her brother wasn’t straight. “Come on, Johnnie! Your face turned all red, and you ‘forgot’ to get annoyed when I hung one of his posters on your wall!”

John thinks twin sisters are a sign that the universe is a very unfair place!

ONCOOKING

John is actually a damn good cook. Mostly because his mother decided (before he was born!) that her sons would be able to fend for themselves. She wasn’t raising useless lads that expected their wives to do all the cooking and cleaning.

Growing up in a poor, predominantly Italian part of Chicago, Johnnie has always been closer to his father’s Italian heritage… But his mother was proudly and undeniably Irish, from her rolling accent to her bright red hair, and there was something of the expat homesickness in her cooking.

Poverty meant that nothing went to waste, and the dishes John remembers the most clearly from childhood are a strange fusion of Irish and Italian. Mashed potato beside sausages seasoned with basil and pepper. Or the layered not-quite-lasagna with cabbage and (the much hated, but cheap) tripe.

Food was more than just a necessity. It was a labour of love. The flavour and history of her culture. And a way to look after her family. You cook for the people you love, to show them your affection. And that’s something Johnnie has never forgotten.

ISHETRAUMATIZED?

John is a functioning trauma victim, mostly because he doesn’t see himself as a victim at all. He’s built his empire up from the dirt, and it’s a strong, solid creation. It’s something he controls, and something he can use to protect the people he loves.

It’s made him a rich, powerful man, with influence that spans much further than anyone realizes (mostly because he doesn’t let any one person know the extent of his dealings).

He’s a man that approaches the world with sheer, overwhelming force of wit, will, and charm. Most of the time it works.

But under the surface is a man that has consciously chosen to excise the soft, desperate pieces of himself– and not all of those wounds have healed cleanly. He’s the textbook definition of a control freak, and a dedicated workaholic– two things that make it very easy to ignore the parts of himself he can’t afford.

John has built armor to contain his cracks. But there are things lurking under those plates that he’s never had the time, or the opportunity, to cope with.

The death of his parents, his siblings…

The blood on his own hands (which is less of a crack than a stain, and doesn’t bother him most of the time. He wouldn’t have killed them if he thought he’d be haunted by his actions)…

His sexuality– which he contains by dating women. Keeping up appearances. But it’s easy not to get emotionally invested when you keep things shallow, and physical.

Basically? On the outside, John doesn’t seem cracked at all. But appearances can be very deceiving.

FRANK&ROSE

When John thinks of love, he thinks of his parents.

Frank had come over to Belfast, from Italy– a violin player looking for new music, new inspiration, and hopefully a job. He was young and handsome, with black hair and olive skin– such a far cry from the boys that Rosemary Byrne had grown up with!

Truthfully, Frank hadn’t been looking for love. But as they both told the story– from first glance, they both knew there was something special about the other. Something that made them stand out from the crowd.

Of course (his mother admitted when her children were older, and better able to understand such things,) if might have had something to do with the way she talked back to him! She was interesting, opinionated, and Frank was head over heels by the end of the first night.

Unfortunately, their parents were less than thrilled. As far as they were concerned, the whole thing needed to end. Immediately. And they were forbidden from seeing one another.

Instead, Frank and Rose eloped to America, and settled in Chicago where Frank’s brother had been living for a few years.

It was hard, and there was never quiet enough to make ends meet. Within a few years they had a handful of children, and Frank went to work at the steel mill. It was honest work, and it paid the bills– but at the end of the day, his hands ached, and eventually his violin began to gather dust. Something taken out on holidays, and days when things had gone especially, wonderfully well.

John remembers that music. He remembers dancing around the living room with his little sisters standing on his toes, and his mother trying to demonstrate a few simple steps. ‘You might not be dancing with kings and queens, but I’ll be damned if you don’t know at least a simple waltz!

He remembers his father swinging his mother around the room to the radio, singing along in his thickly accented voice, and arms tight about her waist.

How his mother would light up whenever he came home, no matter how tired they both were. And when you had fourteen kids in sixteen years, you learned a whole new definition of exhaustion.

John’s met plenty of people that would be only too happy to give him everything he wanted. To smile, and laugh, and hang on his every word. To dedicate their lives to (what they believe to be) his happiness.

He couldn’t be less interested. He has enough sycophants and employees.

For John, love would look like someone who challenged him, and kept him on his toes. Someone who wasn’t afraid to disagree with him. And who still crawled into bed with him at the end of the day, because they loved him.

Not his position, wealth, or power.

Just John.

SPECIALPLACES

Johnnie has several places around Chicago that have personal significance– the result of living a lifetime there. For a long time, the most meaningful was the building he grew up in. But it’s been sold and renovated several different times over the years, (a necessary evil, as things wore out, and needed updating) and no longer looks anything like it did when he was young.

These days, it’s probably the small church, St. Mary’s, that he attended as a child. He hasn’t been back in several years, though he donates generously. It’s a poor neighbourhood, and he has no desire to make himself so visible. Too many people have long memories, and remember him before he was the man he’s made himself.

But the place that has the most emotional resonance is the quiet cemetery where several members of his family rest. Twice a year, John makes the time to visit his parents, two older brothers, and younger sister. Sometimes he goes alone, sometimes with some of his other siblings; and they clean the graves, and lay fresh flowers.

In that place, he isn’t ‘Gentleman’ John Marcone. He’s a son, a brother, and a little more human.

BROKENHEART

Mostly, John has avoided getting in that deep. It’s dangerous, especially for a man in his line of work. There are just too many people in the Life that haven’t evolved enough to see that sexuality and efficacy aren’t the same thing.

It’s hard to get your heart broken when you know there’s a expiry date.

And you go into it looking for the exits.

But when John was in high school, there was a boy named Raphael. He had tanned skin and the sort of thick, black curls that made Johnnie’s fingers itch to run his fingers through them. Raphael was brilliant, sharp as a tack– an idealist with a razor tongue, and quick wit.

He attended the same church, and suddenly Johnnie found the sermons much less interesting than the way the sun came through the stained glass windows and painted colours on Raphael’s skin.

Eventually his covert glances overlapped with Raphael’s, and there was a great deal of blushing across the pews.

For six months, they held hands in secret, and stole kisses between classes, where nobody could see. They weren’t romantic, in the sappy way of things… But they understood one another.

Unfortunately, as they got closer, Raphael got cold feet– the fear of being caught, and the guilt of his faith proving stronger than their fledgling love.

A bitter fight marked the end, both of them walking away without closure. Sometimes he crosses John’s mind, usually when he’s in church, and the light comes through the window just right. He wonders what happened to Raphael, but has never felt the urge to find out.