A.N.

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-Mello-

I was flipping though the pictures Matt had taken. I stopped at a very specific one. One that Matt was in, whispering in my ear what to do. Matt was standing behind me, one hand on my hip (that was bare from my extremely low pants, an unsexy pair of sweats) the other on my stomach, fingers just barely dipping into the waistband. I had my eyes closed, head tilted as he kissed behind my ear. One of my hands was resting on top of his, but the other; that was the important one. It was raised in front of me, flipping off the camera.

I smiled remembering the moment.

"They are not worth your tears Mells. Flip them off, show them how many fucks you give."

Putty in Matt's hands I did as he asked.

Knowing full well this would cause even more scandal, I logged into my twitter account. I wasn't going to let them run my life any more. If they were going to talk about me it would be on my terms. Adding the picture I tweeted:

"Hey media, yes I am scarred, and no, I don't want people to know what happened. You want to talk about me so bad, talk about this. See you on the news. #fuckyou #Idontgiveafuck"

That done I went over to my blog before adding a few of the more modest pictures, and one that wasn't so modest (not like they haven't seen it before), before typing a thank you to all my fans who have stuck with me. A few were overjoyed at me being online so I chatted for a moment responding to all the comments, answering to a few questions about Matt and myself…

"Mello? What the hell is this?"

Matt shoved his phone in my face and I saw the tweet.

"Gerome is going to shit a brink huh?" I answered cheerfully. "Poor guy had to be my publicist of all people."

Matt crossed it arms. "You really think that was smart?"

"Didn't read the hash-tags did you baby? I don't give a fuck."

He just shook his head. "You can't just pull stunts like this."

"Watch me."

True to my predictions, and the nature of the news media, the pictures were in fact on the news the next day. Much to my delight I even made "The Daily Show" and "The Colbert Report".

I of course had to watch, and the anchor lady read the teleprompter as they showed the picture and the tweet.

"Now for our celebrity segment; the model known as "Mello" appears to have regained his voice. He was always active in his public image before he was scarred. After the incident, he stopped being so active, restricting his interactions with the public to his twitter account and his blog, but none of his tweets were ever this outspoken. The photo and the tweet spread rapidly, being re-tweeted by his fans. Even more tweeted at him commenting on it…."

Matt shut the TV off then. "You can't let anything die can you?"

I grinned. "You obviously didn't see my blog."

"Do I want to?"

"Probably not."

"What am I going to do with you."

I slid behind him on the couch kissing his neck. "Hopefully drag me to bed and fuck me into the mattress."

His breath caught. "You're in a much better mood."

"Mmhmm." I slipped hand down his shirt. "I saw you eyeing the paddle. Maybe I need to be punished for being bad…."

And with that, I was thrown over his shoulder as he rushed to our room, me laughing the whole while.

The next week was a charity fashion show, and while Anita chastised me for my antics she was smiling. The director of the charity itself even came over to thank me. Anita and I was the big draw, but after my stunt with the picture the turnout, and press coverage, doubled.

I stood ready in my first outfit, waiting to take the stage.

"You sure you're ok with this?" Matt was holding my hands. We had only a couple of minutes before he was required to be at the end of the runway. I kissed him carefully; it would be a bitch if I had to fix my makeup now.

"I'm positive."

Matt nodded and turned to go.

"And Matt? I told Anita about the lights. They're fixed now."

He smiled brightly at me before one of the crew called out "Ready to go in five!"

With that said he ran off to go to the end of the runway.

I got at the front of the line, listening to the music start and the announcer began speaking.

My hair was pulled back in a leather cord with feathers and beads on it and I was wearing tight leather pants with some slightly heeled boots, but no shirt. I did have on a loosely woven crocheted vest, but no shirt. My scar was exposed. The announcer finished and the music changed. Head held high I stepped on to the runway.

Fuck you media.