MatchMakers

Chapter 26: Am I A Person Or A Thing?

Trunks was right about the coffee and makeup, he was a different person from the drowsy boy who entered the building not too long ago. I on the other hand kept receiving compliments from the triplets who did the entire styling process for the first photo I was about to take. They had handed me the last issue of Trunks sponsored magazine that hinted the revealing of his match in the next issue. Why were people so obsessed with celebrities?

…I was going to be a celebrity…the realization just dawned on me and I was hating that fact and being here all the more. I enjoy living my simple and quiet life, I didn't need it to be tainted with people trying to get the scoop of every single thing I do. I immediately grew nervous as I exited the dressing room, there were so many people, lights, and cameras. From the distance I could see Trunks giving his usual forced smile no one else ever seemed to notice was unreal nor could they detect the frustration in his eyes. He looked at me and I could see the frustration flicker to sadness, he didn't like me being sucked into his world of chains.

I rubbed my elbow as I began to walk towards the decorated set as instructed. We were wearing matching clothes, his white shirt read MAT in black while mines read CHED in red. I could already tell all these pictures will turn out cringe(y) as they force us to act lovey dovey for the camera.

Hours passed and we only took a hundred pictures of a collected set of three styles and poses. Why so long? Well I'll fill you in on something I learned not too long ago from these judge(y) photographers, I'm horrible at posing for pictures. But they didn't come to understand that it was not everyday that I took pictures for thousands of people to see.

I was fed up with all the flashes, poses, and criticism. How did Trunks do this for a year and a half?

It was time for the last shot of the day, thank god, and after getting touched up I entered the dressing room to change into my new attire. I stared in bewilderment at the piece of lace underwear they were trying to make me wear. There was so much wrong in it that its too much to list. But I did not agree to expose myself like this (not like I agreed to begin with), they were lucky I was even doing this. I was about ready to give the director a piece of my mind but Trunks seemed to have beaten me to the punch as he held a very heated conversation in the farthest corner with the director. Though I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying it didn't seem pretty. Even in only his underwear he looked like a force not to be reckoned with.

I rarely saw him so serious or angry, you really had to hit a nerve to get him that way. He headed my way once he ended the conversation, he was still fuming. He grabbed hold of my hand and guided me to his dressing room, locking the door behind him. I took a seat on the couch, contemplating if I should ask what happened but he began ranting.

"I can't believe these people," he began as he paced the room angrily. "I tell them I'll do anything for them if they just be lenient with you but they want to make a mockery of me."

I was a bit lost and he seemed to have read my lost expression as he handed me a picture from his desk. I immediately dropped it when my eyes analyzed everything. It was a woman wearing only her undergarments lying on the edge of a bed, a fierce look on her face as she faced the camera. While the man only in his boxers had one hand on her cheek, the other on her hip with a condom hanging loosely from his lips he also had looked directly at the camera.

They were trying to have us recreate this picture. My blood began to boil, they were crossing the line.

"We're not taking pictures like that right?" I asked quietly.

He stopped his pacing, the back of his ears turned pink. "Over my dead body," he muttered firmly.

I turned away as if finally noticing he was only wearing briefs when he began to slip on his clothing.

"We're leaving," he concluded as he finished tied his shoes.

I was overjoyed by his words, happy to finally leave. I can't believe I thought school was hell.

He took hold of my hand again, half dragging me out of the set once we exited his dressing room. The room was silent as everyone watched our departure, Pat trailing behind us.

"Trunks you have to honor the contract," he spoke once we were in the hallway.

"And you have to realize we're not objects especially sex objects," he hissed.

"It's not such a big deal from what you guys already do," he tried to reason.

Trunks stopped speed walking, causing me to stop as well. Both our faces flushed red. Pat was still under the impression that we had a very active sex life thanks to our stunt back at the hotel when in reality it was far from it.

He turned to Pat after getting over the minor shock of his words, "What happens in our private life will not be blasted to the world," he didn't hide his anger or refrain his finger from poking Pat's chest as he spoke every word with a venomous tone.

With that we officially left, ignoring Pat's calls to come back. We didn't make it too far as we had to wait for Trunks chauffeur and since he didn't have anything to hide his identity we couldn't roam around aimlessly but stay in the safety of this private building.

He sighed deeply, taking a seat on the same bench, I sat besides him.

Silence.

"Your kinda cute when your angry," I admitted, from getting to know him these couple of months I learned he was more of the submissive type so him taking charge was a rarity.

His frown was replaced with a smile before he chuckled, "Is that a compliment from Marron Chestnut?"

I shrugged, glad to make him smile.

He's been going through so much before meeting me and now with this contract he had a bigger burden to carry.