Dual identities, different faces, poses upon poses all for the sake of applause. Most would admit that they feel a coil in their throats and stomach waiting backstage or dart nervously around the velvet curtain in hopes for a cordial audience that was ready to eat up whatever was thrown out at them. Not he. He lived for a tough audience. The tougher, the better.
Perhaps this was why he made such a good agent.
Every time he walked out on to that stage it was a new experience; a new chance to work as hard as he could to win over that crowd sitting in front of him. And worked he did. His timing was always perfect, his pitch walking that fine line between 'noise' and 'music', his movements on the wooden floor liquid and smooth. Even when he played a foul, impassionate character he always portrayed them with an air of dignity and grace. It was just who Artemus Gordon was.
Oh, and he could trick people too. How he could trick people! They were so easy to fool into trusting the character he played and it was only when some outside force meddled around with his plans that he was actually discovered. His audience shrunk and grew as well when he became an agent, all at the same time. Shrunk at the sheer size of the people he would be fooling, grew at the variety of people he performed for each mission. Not that he didn't enjoy his work now; variety was much more interesting than a nameless gathering.
He acted because it was all he knew. Sometimes he stayed in character around Jim, just for the Hell of it. Jim never knew. There was this secret insecurity nestled deep within him, he wasn't even sure when he was on or off at times. Did he act around Jim? Of course he did. He played the character of Artemus Gordon with such efficiency that he hated to portray anyone else. He supposed the character grew as a second skin.
Artemus Gordon, that thespian with a flare for the classics and the good things in life. Artie, the best friend and companion of James West. Artemus, the son of Mrs. Gordon and all-around do-gooder. He melded all of those aspects together perfectly to create his most famous character; himself.
But who was the real Artemus Gordon? Was it the man who woke up in the morning and stared at his reflection in a pool of water? Was Artemus the same person who went to sleep in the evening and woke up in the morning? Was he really the outgoing womanizer and inventor, or was this just another part of the act? He admitted to himself that he didn't know. But what could he say? Acting was in his veins.