A/N: I don't really know what to say here right now. I began to write this fiction because I was watching a certain modeling show a little too much, and brainstormed a story plot with a little modeling incorporated in it. I don't know if you all will like it, but here it goes!

Oh, and I'm sorry if you guys don't like me using the American name for Jou. It's just that he's in New York, and the name 'Joey' fits that scene much better than 'Jou.' I might change it to 'Jou' later in the story, if the demand for it is strong enough, but since Joey isn't in Japan yet, I'll just leave it like it is. Hope you enjoy.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooO is a Scene change.

Disclaimer: Me owning Yu-Gi-Oh! Would be as inappropriate as this story is to the "Oh-my-God! Is that two boys?" people, so no. Oh, and if you haven't figured out by now, it's eventual Seto/Joey/Jou. That's right! Two boys!

Chapter One: Stuck

"Awesome, Joey. Now you gotta show everyone that you're a pro at using this new duel disk shtick. Wait, no! Be careful with it, it's going to come out of your pay if it breaks, dude. All right, now turn your head a little to the right, good. Whoa, crazy intensity, awesome shot! You're doing great, Joey, it's so easy working with you on these things!"

Click.

Click.

Clickety-click.

Joey never really got the concept of modeling. Apparently, you just stand in front of a camera, pose, and try to look as pretty as possible. He looked at the duel disk he was wearing on his left wrist. What a weird device. This was supposed to pioneer the evolution of card dueling? How exactly do you use it? Nevertheless, for all that Joey was concerned, all he needed to do was act as if it was the best thing to happen to him since he found out that free pizza came with every modeling gig.

To even think that Joey even modeled was a funny notion in itself, but here he was. It was okay pay, but... modeling? His dad would have him for breakfast, lunch and dinner if he ever found out. Joey would never tell anyone who didn't need to know. The only reason why he was even in front of flashing cameras and creepy photographers was because he needed the money. Well, not all of the photographers were creepy. Elias, the guy who was taking shots of Joey currently, wasn't creepy. Joey and Elias were the same age, and it amazed Joey how fast Elias had risen up the ranks as a fashion photographer. Even though Elias made Joey out to be some sort of supermodel when he really wasn't, it helped Joey get more into character.

People around school told him that he was sort of (very) adorable, and he was desperate for a job then. He had to wear a trench coat, aviator knockoffs and a detective hat to walk into the modeling agency to apply, and he had no portfolio! All he did was imagine that he was whatever they wanted him to be, and he did it well. Joey has always had a good imagination, and he was finally able to put it into good use without breaking much of a sweat. Was modeling actually his calling? How could it be? He was such a tough guy! Oh, and the modeling agency had a name. Teen Couture Modeling Agency. He was still a tough kid though, right?

He was living in a bad neighborhood located in the Bronx, for crying out loud. You have to learn to be hardy there, and that's what he had done. If anyone, especially Joey's father, knew that he was modeling? After all of the brawls that Joey went through in school? It could never happen, for it did, he'd be dead. Either killed by his friends or his father. Well. Joey didn't really consider his friends... friends, really. More like associates, people that you hung around with because you had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to. So, yeah. Teen Couture.

If his father ever found out the name of the company, in addition to knowing that his son worked for them... If that didn't set off any alarms in his head that his son might be a little "soft," Joey didn't know what could.

Apparently, Joey was also confused about his sexual orientation, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. Or deny it. The confusion never went away. Or, the realization never did. Joey always believed that it was some kind of psychological thing. Or like, genetic because who would actually want to be gay? Or bisexual? He'd seen people get attacked and ridiculed just for who they liked to fuck. If those people could change whom they liked, they would. Joey, in his earlier years of school, was always the lucky one. Joey wasn't exactly hideous, no matter how oblivious he was to his own looks, and was always asked by girls and guys alike as to why he wasn't hooked up. He always said the same old thing:

"I just gotta focus on work, you know? Can't take care o' nobody else 'til I can take care o' myself."

All through middle school.

All through high school.

With the deep New York accent that's gotten lighter over the years somehow.

Amazing how no one caught on. Or, maybe no one cared enough. Either way, he was one of the ones that were better off, and Joey was sure that his tough guy image helped him. There was some truth to it though. Joey did focus on work a whole lot, but only just to get out of school. And now he was a high school senior. Only one year left, but then what, model in secrecy until he could move to some other city? Maybe a gayer city, but maybe not. His father would suspect something and then kill him during a visit.

If one thing was for sure, he was fed up with denying it within himself. It's easier to hide from everyone else when he knew exactly what he had to hide. He had a really slight attraction to girls. He'd stare at a pair of breasts just like any guy would, but only because he didn't have a pair of his own. He wouldn't want to stick his head in between them like his associates would, which only made him realize how different he was from everyone that he hung around with. He would never get a boyfriend around here. Or, at least, not openly. In fact, he couldn't even imagine himself in an open relationship with any guy, because it was so socially impossible here. Joey wouldn't be sexually attracted to other guys if he could help it. Last year, Joey lost a fight because the other guy's leg got way too close to his...

Well.

Long, embarrassing story short, Joey just took the punches just so the other guy could get off of him.

Basically, Joey is a secret, gay model. Or, secret, bisexual model but has a huge preference to guys. A secret, bisexual model with a huge preference to guys that has no way out of a place that won't accept who he is and who he likes. Weren't you supposed to tell your parents everything, like the model, perfect and average child would?

Maybe all of these secrets made it easier for him to model. Had to be something, right?

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooO

"It's good enough, Joey..." A lady in a one-piece cat suit, with a large, brown belt looked over the photo slideshow of Joey's latest photo shoot. They were in her office, which was quite spacious. When you first walked in, you saw her polished desk made of oak, adorned with random trinkets and pictures. The desk had two fancy office chairs on each side of it and behind the desk, were two large windows, with a nice view of bustling, Manhattan activity when the blinds were open. Beside the windows were two azalea trees, which rose up to reach the same height of the windows. A fancy hanging light shone from the middle of the ceiling. Joey would call it a chandelier, but he wasn't sure if certain hanging lights had certain names.

Come to think of it, the office space wasn't exactly spacious, but it was peaceful. Maybe the Zen feeling gave the illusion that there was more space than there actually was.

"We've got some great pictures in the beginning, but what was up with you towards the end? Whatever you were thinking about was showing across your face. You have to try to think positive during upbeat shoots like this, okay?" She had long, wavy orange hair, styled like she was the forth Charlie's Angel. She was the image manager, and was in charge of the amateur division. She decided what pictures actually get published in magazines and the like.

Joey sat across from her, looking at the photos as well. "Sorry. Just have a lot on my mind today." He leaned into his chair. "Can I do the shoot over again?"

The cat lady smiled. "Now, you know the cameramen don't have time for do-overs. I'm sure one or more of your pictures will make the cut for the portfolio that we're sending out to Japan tomorrow. You're done for today, though. You can pick up your check over at the reception desk. You're scheduled for tomorrow, for the group shot we're taking to finalize the portfolio."

He managed to put up a half smile. "Alright, thanks. See ya tomorrow." The cat lady rose up and walked off, leaving Joey to think about how he could perform without letting his imagination wander off into introspection and other things that are too unnecessary for modeling toys manufactured by some huge franchise in Japan. His imagination was a great tool, but it also had the potential to ruin him during shoots. He rose up a little against the chair, and then started idly twirling around like he used to do with the computer chairs in middle school, thinking about what he should do.

"Why am I still in here?" He asked himself after realizing that he was playing around in someone else's chair for more than five minutes. He got up and began to walk out the door, only to crash into Elias while he was trying to walk by. Never really noticing what Elias wore today until now, Joey got a quick glance before Elias reacted to the crash. His chocolate brown hair was combed down, but slightly messy. His tan skin brought out his piercing green eyes. He had slight stubble as well. He was wearing a plain, red tank top with blue washed out jeans. Maybe the fact that Joey had a slight crush on Elias enabled him to see things that weren't exactly visible the way they collided. Like the stubble. He compared Elias' outfit to his own, saggy navy blue jeans/green t-shirt ensemble, completed with a brown, worn out leather jacket. If Joey cared enough about his own looks, he'd go on to worry about his hair, which always looked bedraggled no matter how much he combed it.

"Sorry, clumsy me," Joey blurted out with a small laugh. "I wasn't really paying much attention there..."

"It's alright," Elias replied, almost stroking the shoulder that Joey crashed into. Joey turned away from Elias' eyes and looked towards the uninteresting gray colored flooring. "Hey, how'd the pictures turn out? Straight outta'a mag, right?" He palmed Joey's right shoulder and shook him gently, something that a friend would do.

"Eh, well, you know." Joey replied, shrugging and avoiding eye contact. "A few good, a few bad, but I wasn't all that focused today."

"I noticed." Elias replied, causing Joey to look up at him.

Joey scoffed. "Yeah? Then why were you all 'Come on Joey, that's great, perfect' like I was a super stud?"

"It's all about encouragement." Elias said, matter-of-factly in fact. "And I want you to do good out there. That's my job, you know? Don't worry about the pictures. If there's good ones then they're going' in that portfolio for Japan tomorrow."

Joey half-smiled, shaking his head as he looked back down towards the floor as Elias continued reassuringly. "This is a big thing. If you get picked, you've got a plane ticket straight to Japan's branch. They need you over there." He slapped Joey's back to get him to snap out of whatever trance the floor put him in. Joey faced Elias, only to see a warm, handsome, full-toothed smile.

They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, Elias' smile fading away and then turning into full out laughter. It snapped Joey out of the hypnotic trance he was under thanks to Elias' smile, which only frustrated him because a) It reminded Joey that he liked boys and b) the smile had disappeared.

Even so, Joey's reaction to Elias' unfunny shtick was a simple eye roll. Because, that's how a friend would react.

Elias shook his head in response. "Why are you so worried? You need to see what I see. I even tried to be all sappy buddy like and it didn't phase you. You should go home, get some rest, and get here early for the final shoot. Yeah?"

"Whatever you say, Elias." Joey replied, looking back down and doing everything possible to keep from acting like an idiot. "But, I think you're crazy. There's load'sa fashion models in this building more bet-"

"Shut it." Elias interrupted. "You need an alarm clock? Here, borrow my watch and set it for 5AM. Do it and get here." Elias slipped off his gold-plated watch and stuck it inside Joey's left jacket pocket. "I'll see you later, I gotta ready up for my next shoot. But first, look at me."

Joey looked up to see stern, emerald eyes stare deep into his own.

He felt lightheaded, again, and his breaths suddenly got shorter. Joey's lips began to part slightly and naturally as the staring ensued for what seemed to be for eternity.

"GET HERE ON TIME!" Elias yelled, bringing Joey out of his fairytale moment. Again.

In reality, it had only lasted for three seconds.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" Joey yelled back. "THAT WASN'T FUNNY!"

"It actually really was," Elias said, going back to his normal tone. "Gotta run, don't lose the watch, or steal it and claim that you lost it!"

"Who would wanna steal this old lookin' thing?" Joey retaliated.

They parted ways then. Elias walked off into the hectic crowd of cameramen, props and models, men and women alike, smiling before taking off. Joey watched his back as he disappeared into the activity. He reached into his pocket and took out the watch that was lent to him. Joey wasn't aware that he was such a comedian, and Elias would probably laugh even more if he found out that Joey didn't even know how to use a watch, for he never had one.

Either that, or smile. Which is much worse only because it's cuter. Joey gave himself a mental slap. He didn't have to yell at Elias like that. He'd deny the fact that it was most likely a form of sexual frustration. It could never be that. Yeah right. Are you kidding me right now?

But, Joey damned his hormones to hell, anyway.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooO

The receptionist at the desk was a typical one. And since she was at a modeling agency, it made it even more painful for Joey to see her every time he had to pick something up from the blonde haired, cherry red lipped teenager.

She chirped, "Have a nice day!" before handing Joey his check encased in a brown envelope. Joey bet that she was so cheery because she got to spend so much time with hot guys, in hopes of actually snagging one. He thanked her as he took the check, but also felt kind of sorry for her. In a place like this, she'd have to sit on top of her desk, knock her laptop onto the ground and expose every inch of cleavage she had because the guys here are either too oblivious, narcissistic or possibly gay to care about anything she'd do otherwise.

As he started to walk toward the subway, Joey knew that he wouldn't want to be around reception girl once all of those guys push her off of the testosterone roller coaster. Not like it's any fun riding it, anyway. Joey's been on it for 17 years, and nothing's happened. He could totally go out to some club and change that, but then he'd risk being seen by people he knew. The subway rolled in and slowed to a stop as he climbed aboard.

How long could he possibly keep all of this inside himself?

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooO

F/N: So, um… should I keep going with this?