Psychological Control

"Brian...Brian...look at me..." my head was mush and the overwhelming blood that Brian remembered seemed to reappear before my eyes, how coincidentally it was also in such a confined space.

"It's okay...relax...Brian! ..."

Whose name was this voice calling? Brian? ...Who was Brian...yes, these terrible memories and desires should belong to a boy named Brian...

Yes, the memories were Brian's, the fantasies were Brian's... the bloodlust was Brian, and I was me!

My pupils focused slowly as Chris and Ashton screamed in anxiety. The scene in front of me only regained clarity.

Chris was full of regret, while Ashton had a worried look on his face. Nina and Alice also gathered around, followed by several other female models. Dan was curled up in a car seat not far away, Phil twisting his wrist and Marvin looking at him with equal concern, Marvin turning his head every now and then to look at me with apologies in his eyes. And Jamie, the little lamb, stood with a frightened look on his face in the centre of the two sides, not knowing where to go.

Chris cupped my cheeks in his hands and stared straight into my eyes as I eased up and reached out to push his face away from me that was leaning too close.

"I'm not dizzy, I just had a momentary hypoglycemia from standing up too quickly." I said evasively, "I was just going to warn him, maybe I accidentally overdid it."

Ashton was obviously quickly persuaded by the reason for this and said with righteous indignation, "It's not your fault Brian! Dan he really should have kept his mouth shut..."

The intention was to stop a farce, but I never thought I would end up contributing to it and bringing the fire down on myself. I shooed a somewhat curious and scared Nina away and let Alice lead the group of female models back to the front compartment, informing the bus driver to move on.

Then raised that same harmless smile as always to try and reassure Jamie. I don't know if it was the sixth sense of a herbivore or what, but Jamie no longer dared to relax under my smile and he sat down dryly next to Mike, not far from me.

Chris, seeing the way I didn't want to talk much, sat back down next to me, although he wanted to say something. Only this time it turned out to be him firmly tugging on my arm.

Back at the supermodel house, no one was in the mood to talk as we all walked into the house because of the drama on the road, and even when the cameras started to follow us around the house, there was a silent agreement that nothing was mentioned. The results of the challenge appeared on the TV screen in the living room.

Out of ten, the best performer, Rena, was a nine, followed closely by Marvin's eight. Me, Ashton, Alyssa, Jamie, and Alice were the middle seven. Dan, Cheryl, Chris, Conani, Phil, and Nina scored six points. Bianca and Mike had the lowest five points.

The bedrooms had been redistributed, with Marvin and his two remaining brothers, Dan and Phil, sharing a room, and Mike, Jamie and Ashton uncomfortably sharing a room, leaving the room with two bunks for Chris and me.

Unable to read, I changed into my bedtime shorts and sweatpants and folded my arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling. Chris came back from washing his face and sat across from me on his bed without saying a word.

The two of us were silent for a while before I could only say, "Chris, don't think about it so much. Go to sleep." With that I closed my eyes and rolled under the covers.

It was a while before I heard a rustle in Chris's direction and he too nestled under the covers.

Tomorrow was Monday and shortly after the results of the challenge were announced tonight, Taylor emailed through the living room screen to announce the hard photo shoot, meaning that the models would not be given a break the day after the challenge until after the hard photo shoot, then Wednesday would be a day off and give viewers time to vote on the official website, however Wednesday night would be another elimination.

Thursday and Friday repeat the Monday and Tuesday schedule, Saturday is the same elimination as Wednesday, Sunday is a full day off, and the cycle repeats itself over the course of a month to determine the winner. The America's Next Top Model schedule was packed and I couldn't allow myself to be distracted by a farce, nor did I want Chris to be distracted by worrying about me.

So not talking about it was the best thing to do.

Early the next morning, everyone gathered once again and waited for the bus to take us to the shoot. The mood was a bit subdued today and it seemed that most people were still reeling from the accident on the bus yesterday.

Chris had a dark circle under his eye, but he didn't bring up the subject of yesterday again, and we were strangers to Marvin and the three of them as the models gathered, with Jamie timidly following behind Mike. The atmosphere among the female models was fine, except for some tension between Alice and Rena.

On the bus, Marvin and the three of them sat near the door as Chris and I sat at the back of the bus. Looking at the three of them up front making a deliberate giggling and laughing gesture, Chris was a little upset. But held it all the way back because of the gesture I kept making that I didn't want to talk.

Eventually the bus pulled up in front of a studio and as we walked in we saw Taylor and Jonathan waiting there from a distance.

Taylor, who didn't seem to have gotten the message from the middle of the bus yesterday, excitedly announced to the models, "Everyone was very tenacious last night and finished a crazy walk, are we all still determined today?"

Taylor followed up by announcing the theme of today's shoot, wedding photos.

Marriage of all kinds, models will be working with each other. Because of the mix of men and women even a new technique was introduced, called dynamic hard photos. A frozen picture where a tiny spot changes continuously to make the whole picture come to life.

The subject of the collaboration and marriage was decided by lottery, and it seems that both Chris and I were unusually unlucky today because the gods of luck had been frightened by yesterday's antics.

I drew a white ticket, Fetish Marriage, against an old boxy TV set. And Chris was even more amused to be grouped with Dan, with the theme of same-sex marriage. I couldn't help but just laugh out loud at Chris' stinky face like an ice sculpture and the depression radiating around him.

"You..." Chris' expression turned into an ice sculpture in a flash after I laughed out loud. I think he must have been hit hard by the Fates and now he must be in a bad mood to be laughed at by me again.

I had to pat him on the shoulder and reassure him, "Just bear with it. If it's really hard, how about imagining that face of his as Alice? It'll give you a bit more motivation."

Chris slapped my hand on his shoulder away and turned his head, and his face had started to flush all the way up to the base of his ears. I gave him a surprised look but didn't say anything.

Yesterday's memory of Brian had caused a slight personality imbalance, and although I'd been able to regulate myself without further problems for a while, I'd been feeling a bit down. Once Chris was out of such an unlucky situation, it was a good way to get my mind in the right state of adjustment.

The fetish of having to treat an unpopular dead object as a fetish was a temporary mental hypnosis I did to myself with my eyes closed while the make-up artist applied make-up to my face.

Because you can only take good pictures when you really throw yourself into that situation. Just like an actor, an actor who fools himself performs a scene as if it were a documentary, the character will have flesh and blood.

I know that such an actor, however, is prone to mild schizophrenia, much like my memories with Brian today, and when there is an overlap between the two, it is easy to confuse the story with reality. This is why I won't be planning to become an actor.

Because I'm afraid I'll uncontrollably hypnotise myself on every role in the pursuit of perfection, and if I do do that, with Brian's memories overlaid, the effect is doubled. Maybe it would be really crazy too.

Again, filming a TV show or movie takes several times as long as a reality variety show. The reason I need to portray myself as a public figure is so that the image in the eyes of the crowd becomes a shell of my disguise, rather than actually throwing myself into the spotlight intact.

Control myself, control my psyche and remember who I really am.

......

My lover, with its angular and icy surface. I knelt on one knee in front of it, I pressed my cheek against my beloved lover and gently stroked its skin with one hand. The part that would control it was held in my other hand, pressed just at the heart.

My eyes were half-closed and my mouth wore a heartfelt smile of happiness, for I was in full control of my lover. It and I were finally married.

All around me the sound of the photographer and Jonathan talking seemed to be separated by a membrane, outside of which was reality, and inside of which I was completely immersed.

"That's good! We got the shot!"

As Jonathan shouted excitedly, I slowly opened my eyes, the smile on my face narrowing as I put down the remote control in my hand and raised my hand to press my temples.

"Is it ready?" I stepped out into the spotlight in an old English gentleman's typical gown.

Jonathan came up quickly and gave me a hug as he said excitedly, "Fantastic, just fantastic! It was even more perfect than I expected, it was out of this world!"

I let Jonathan's somewhat forceful arms around me as I walked over to the computer to see the hard photos that had just been taken, I didn't think it was allowed to see myself in advance, but an excited Jonathan didn't think about it, he pulled me over to point at the hard photos and the words of praise kept spilling out of his mouth.

For the photo shoot he blew the curtain fabric behind me in the set in the breeze and then set the finished curtain to move. As the main character, I kneel demurely in front of the old television set, my hand stroking the screen in prayer, my face leaning on the screen with the happy smile of a newly married man, and the remote control clasped to my chest at my heart representing the desire to control my lover.

The dynamic curtain background contrasts frozen in time with me and the whole picture makes you sweat but you can't look away. Jonathan was excited to say that I got the point he wanted perfectly across.

"Perfect..." he tugged at me tightly, "really perfect! I must take more pictures of you myself if conditions allow!" His uncontrollable emotions caused the lighting crew and the photographer who had taken the picture around him to look sideways.

Perhaps he needed to get a grip on his emotions and a conciliatory smile tugged at my face, "Of course, it would be a great honour for me to have Mr Jonathan photograph me."

I tactfully broke away from his firm grip on my wrist, but instead of leaving his grip immediately, I stepped forward and gave him a ceremonial hug. The hug was accompanied by a gentle pat on his back, a pause of a few seconds, and then I took a few steps back out of the range of his arms.

Obviously he wasn't as excited anymore and just smiled happily as he instructed me, who had finished shooting, to go and change out of my clothes and remove my make-up.

Jonathan is well known in the fashion world as a gay man who has come out of the closet and has a family, and he and his lover are one of the most high profile couples in the fashion world. However, I was surprised to find out that their relationship is full of contradictions in the creative design he gave this time.

Jonathan has a prayerful worship of his lover, but also an uncontrollable possessiveness and control. He is immersed in a 'love' that is a virtual muse in his mind, but not a real person. Such a 'love' might drive his lover mad.

He doesn't know the reason why his lover is becoming more and more different from what he imagines, but I can surmise from the subconscious of his design. Jonathan portrays his lover in his own image as a character too perfect to be real.

His expectations and restrictions put too much pressure on his lover, whom he treats only as a necessity in life, not as a companion.

Jonathan saw the image his lover was portraying in front of him through the image I was portraying in front of the crowd. And for this hard photo shoot, through creative design he brought out that inner turmoil through my hard photos.

That's why he was so excited at the end of the shoot and repeated over and over again that it was perfect.