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Your dream has finally come true. You meet Handsome Jack in your dream.
You're walking on Pandoran sands, red from the setting sun. Or is it a sunrise? You do not know. But sunset suits Jack more.
You see him standing near his car at the edge of this huge plateau you're walking upon. This is a dream, so you reach him in no time, crossing the distance instantly.
So you stand there, behind his back. Unbelievable. You can see the various fabrics of his clothes, smell the burnt tyres from the car...the Pandoran air is hot and dusty in your throat, and you sound rusty when you say: "Good evening." You want to be polite. And, to be honest, you're afraid not to.
Jack turns to you, and you're nearly tripping over your feet with the intensity of your emotions. This, this is what you wanted...his attention.
"Who the hell are you?" He wonders, frowning just so slightly, you can almost miss it. Of course, you do even not deserve a full frown from the king, you think sarcastically.
You allow yourself to watch him for a second. It is really him - the mask, the differently colored eyes, the yellow Hyperion sweater... But you didn't come to stare, that you could've done before. You've come to talk.
"I'm, uh, your fan?" It sounds stupid. But pouring personal information would be even more.
"Yeah, welcome to the club, I'm my fan too!" Jack exclaims in a light voice. Still something unsettles you. Maybe it is the hints of tiredness in his voice, maybe it is the strange shift from menace to cheer...it makes you wonder...
"...do you ever stop?" You blurt out. "Stop being...Handsome?" You try to explain and soften the edges, but you know it is already too direct for a question to Handsome Jack.
He watches you with suspicion, ready to search for the hidden meanings of your words, but then he narrows his eyes dangerously at you. To think that you just accused him of acting, not being Handsome Jack...
"Oh, you think you're so clever? So funny?" He steps nearer. "I can be funny too." He reaches out his right hand and tries to grab your neck.
His fingers go through you with no impact.
You let out a breath you've been holding.
"This is my dream. Sorry." You explain it to him.
Jack crosses his arms, irritated. "I hope you have to rise at 6 AM then." He mutters under his breath.
He leans his back on his car, and sets a hard glare on you.
"So, what do you want?" He grunts.
You're dumbfounded for a moment. All the time you've been thinking about it, and you do not know. "Me?" You ask, automatically.
He nods, annoyance evident is his sharp features. "Yes, you, you ass-head. What do you want from me?" He becomes more agitated ad he speaks. "What do you fans usually want? Make a photo with you, hug you, kiss you, fuck you senseless, strangle you with my bare hands? Never mind, already tried the last one..." He adds, sounding almost disappointed.
And all of a sudden, an idea crosses your mind. Inspired by his words, no less.
"Actually," you start, and you can't help smiling at him, smiling at Handsome-goddamn-Jack, "I'd like to shake your hand."
And you stretch out your right arm in an inviting gesture.
Jack glances at it, hesitant. "But I can't touch you, kiddo..." He looks up at your face again. He's calmed down, it seems. You hope, that maybe it is because of your friendly and respectful choice of what to ask.
"This is my dream, Jack." You repeat, not even noticing you called him by his name. He does not mind though. " If I want to, you can touch me."
Jack nods, then grabs your hand in an energetic fashion. His hand is very warm, so soft (he is rich!), but strong. You realize, that now, when you're physically accessible, he can break your arm if he wants. But he doesn't.
After a couple of seconds, he releases you, but the warmth still linger.
"And now, please fuck off, pumpkin." He smirks at you almost cordially.
You feel the blush creeping up your cheeks at such familiarity. Perhaps, it is indeed time to leave.
"Well...take care, Jack." You say quietly.
"Hope to never meet you again." He answers, and he doesn't sound like he is joking or angry. Just... quiet. And you wonder what it's meant to mean.
You wake up with a big grin and a troubled heart. And you think: " If he could stop being Handsome, he would be beautiful."