Jakob had inherited his father's classic Scandinavian looks, pale complexion, high cheek bones, full lips, light blonde hair. He had also inherited his mother's height (5'6"), slim build (9 stone fully clothed and dripping wet), long eyelashes and stunning blue eyes.
After this parents split up Jakob's mother encouraged him to take up sports as a way to give him structure, discipline and to teach him teamwork. He enjoyed swimming and running and competed in both at county level. Between his homework and his training, Jakob had little time for friends and even less to get up to any mischief.
Jakob hardly ever saw his father after the divorce as his work in the oil industry took him to all parts of the globe for months at a time and his mother was a teacher but because of her work load, she barely spent any time with him. His father would send him the occasional message when he had shore leave from some exotic location, he seemed to spend most of his time in south america or the far east.
As school progressed Jakob became Jake. Jake found his good looks and sporting success was a double edged sword, he was one of the most popular kids in school and also one of the most hated. Some guys liked hanging out with him because he was good at sports and had trophies to prove it, likewise, some hated him because they were jealous of his success and the attention it brought, especially since he was so modest that he seemed almost embarrassed by it. Some girls liked him because of his looks, others envied his beauty and natural grace and spread rumours he was gay.
As a result of this Jake had few real friends and hardly ever dated because he found the gossip that spread around the school both tedious and hurtful, after one noteable date with one of the best gymnasts in school even the teachers started talking about his social life.
At college the gossip and rumours only intensified, however Jake found a home of sorts amongst the alternative crowd, the artists, the LGBTQ+ community, the punks, metalheads and misfits from all walks of life. The ones that find themselves sticking together as a way of surviving and supporting the kids that haven't been successfully sorted into one or other of the accepted teenage castes in the college social eco system.
However even amongst the outcasts Jake didn't fit in, his beauty and his continued sporting success made the others feel like he was too good for the company he kept. Jake wasn't gay even though people assumed he was (because he seemed so indifferent to all the attention the girls showered on him, when really he was just painfully inexperienced and shy), so when he turned down some boys he found himself isolated even further. He concentrated on his swimming and running and took up cycling. He kept himself shaved smooth like the professionals did, which accentuated his slender, toned build and mouth-watering bubble butt.
With all the gossip and rumours spread about him at high school and college Jake didn't do much dating and when he did, he didn't get very far. He found that girls were in love with the idea of dating him, they lusted after the fantasy they had of him in their heads and not the meek, timid boy in front of them. They all told him what a good kisser he was and how skilful he was with his soft hands but when it came to sex, his size (a thin 3.5" at best) was a turn off and the girls either made fumbling excuses and left, or, in some cases the look of disappointment or disgust was so demeaning and degrading that his erection withered away in front of their eyes.
Jake found a form of acceptance when one of his few friends asked him to model for them as part of their fashion course. He was the star of the show and thanks to his look the show and the college got mentioned in some of the national style magazines. Jake got several offers to model for local independent shops and with the money he brought a phone and started an Instragram account, soon Jake turned into JC model, photographer and prince of Instagram.
JC left college to study chemistry at Bristol university. Bristol was about five hundred miles away from Aberdeen and close enough to London for modelling opportunities without him becoming just another face trying to make it on the big London scene. The city had a lot of history and a fiercely independent, rebellious vibe which JC fell in love with.
JC picked up several modelling contracts in the city and his modelling, swimming, running, cycling and studying left little time for a conventional student social life. A productive way to keep his modelling and his instagram account in the limelight was to arrange dates with fellow models to boost both their profiles, he would be seen leaving various hotspots with some gorgeous young thing on his arm and depending on the fashion campaign they were working on, they would agree to either have a one night stand, or a two week whirlwind romance at the end of which they would part on good terms. He maintained a couple of long term flirtationships with some instagram models as a way of keeping his followers interested and his profile active.
Post date truth was that once behind closed doors they would both collapse onto the sofa, throw their viciously uncomfortable, eye wateringly expensive shoes off and sit in front of the TV, eating toast and drinking tea until they fell asleep fully clothed.
He lived his life in likes and views. He regularly received messages advising him to create an only fans account, unsolicited dick pics, cum tributes and a lot of spiteful hate mail.
With his bad past experiences of dating and the attention and adoration he found online, JC was both a loner and a flirt.
One Sunday morning after a night of champagne and being seen on the town, JC decided to go for a run to clear his hangover, it was the start of a reading week at university meaning no classes all week while the students read and researched and worked on their coursework. His latest 'one night stand' had been a cute little red head who had been flirting hard with him online as part of their collaboration on a fashion shoot. She had left her strappy, impossibly high stilettos and a pale pink, (still damp) lacy thong she had worn the night before as a memento, he couldn't remember much about it so he set a reminder to message her and see if she wanted to meet up again and got ready for his run.
JC showered, shaved his body smooth and got dressed in his favourite pair of baby blue running short shorts, tight white top and matching knee high socks, grabbed his phone, and keys. He downed a pint of water and several aspirin in a vain attempt to combat his hangover, laced up his trainers, took a deep breath and set off.
It was a hard run, he felt sick with every step and the pounding headache didn't go away, it seemed to get worse with the fresh air and bright sunlight. As often happened on a long Sunday morning run, JC started to daydream to keep his mind off the hangover and how much further he had left to go. This morning his daydream focused on Heather, last night's date. So it was a shock when he tripped over a loose paving slab and crashed to his knees on the cold, unforgiving concrete.
Pain lanced from his ankle to his knee. JC stifled a groan and tried to stand up, his leg buckled underneath him and he collapsed to the floor, cursing in agony.
JC reached into the pocket of his shorts, thankfully his phone had survived his fall but he had forgotten to charge it when he stumbled home last night and the battery died as he was about to call a taxi.
JC swore aloud and hit the ground in frustration, tears starting to well up in his pretty blue eyes as he contemplated trying to limp all the way back to the house he shared with some other students off campus.
JC was wallowing in self pity, muttering under his breath at the unfairness of it all, sniffling, wiping away his snot and tears and trying his best to stop crying. He was so absorbed in his pity that he didn't notice the large black man that had walked up beside him and JC jumped a little when he spoke.
