Smile For The Camera!

Characters; Garvin (Cameron). Graci, Revan, Ingall, Akira, Nico, and Fintan are all mentioned/implied in varying degrees.

Word Count; 2,405.

TWs; Swearing, self-hatred, self worth issues, overstimulation, autistic shutdown, relatively mild suicidal ideation, internalized ableism, dissociation, nausea, past abuse, past rape/non-con, past electrocution, consequences of trauma, ‘mild’ flashbacks, distorted body image, vomiting/purging, and messy writing/ending. Oh, and tons of hints/one off lines at different things Fintan did in the past. Oops.

Notes; Garvin and Cameron both are rather unreliable narrators during this. The camera flash is real though, the person didn’t know the flash was on, they just wanted to make sure that everyone got a picture before they left. Fun fact about the Midas Sidesystem though- Most of them have some of the worst vision and/or hearing out of the entire system. Also, technically not just Cameron here. Mostly Cameron, but there’s also a lot of passive influence coming from Monroe and Midas. Basically, anytime anyone from the Midas Sidesystem shows up and Fintan isn’t there, Midas is at least passively influencing the one fronting to try and make sure there isn’t too much damage done to the uh, programming. You know, since Midas is an internal handler for a long time. The more I read this, the more I don’t really like it. But I’m not sure if that’s because it’s bad or because Fintan sucks but. Yeah. Anyway, uh, enjoy. Proceed with caution. I am beyond certain that the polycule are very worried by the end of this.

Here’s a bit of what actually happened too- Akira tried to check him, then went to go look for Revan and Nico so they could leave. While leaving the camera flash happened, and when Cameron started uh, you know, doing what he does, they went back inside (to a much quieter area) to try and calm shit down first.

*~*~*~*

The day had been busier than Garvin would’ve liked to admit. Mostly because it hadn’t been the busy Garvin was used to, days where his hands bled and body ached and the wind bit at him in turn with an empty stomach. No, instead, the day had been busy because of one thing, one person, one fucking event. Who? Grace. Or whatever the fuck her name was. That name definitely didn’t seem like it fit her. Though, as much as he didn’t like her, she had gotten… Easier to deal with. Sirius didn’t seem like he wanted to tear his skin off around her as much anymore, at least.

-

Either way, for whatever reason, they’d all been invited over. He couldn’t remember why. He didn’t really care why. All he knew was that he’d been stuffed into some way too fancy getup for it, even though Lacerta claimed he’d toned it down for him. All he knew was that he’d been up on his feet for way too long, and he just wanted to get back to the apartment and sleep. Preferably forever. Though that could just be his exhaustion there. He wasn’t sure. What he was sure about was that there were too many people in clothes that were too fancy and he didn’t belong anywhere nearby.

-

But he was. Actually, he’d been in the middle of it just a while ago. Doing something that he couldn’t remember now. It was too bright, too loud, and just— Way too fancy. So he’d ended up drifting to the sides, to where Polaris and Altair had hidden themselves, Vega having decided to stick by Specs instead. Just so everyone had someone nearby, or… Something. He wasn’t actually sure. He’d been with those two before though, so. Hopefully they didn’t think they had to leave, hopefully they just figured he wanted to be near Aquila and Apus. Or check on them. Either one worked. He just didn’t want to make them leave yet if they didn’t want to.

-

He wasn’t sure if either of them had tried to talk to him when he got to them though. He wasn’t sure if either of them were trying to talk to him at that moment either. He had his head down, hands pressing into his eyes to get rid of the building headache behind them. Trying to get rid of the slight dizzy feeling he had. Everything just seemed. Off. He couldn’t get himself to focus on anything.

-

A hand on his shoulder made him tense more than he already was before, almost making him jump. He didn’t, but it did remind him of where he was. Which in turn made him realize he’d almost forgotten. His throat felt dry. The world seemed blurred when he looked over at Aquila. He couldn’t tell if the world was shaking or if it was just him. He swallowed dryly, eyes already starting to drift away towards the wall behind them instead. He thought he saw their mouth move out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t hear if they said anything though. And yet everything still seemed too loud.

-

He blinked. It felt too slow. Aki turned, shifted. Towards Apus, if he had to guess. He couldn’t tell. Crescent was probably panicking with all the noise if it was even getting to him though. So it made sense. They’d probably realized that he wasn’t the one to be worrying about most at the moment. Or ever. That’d be a better thing to realize. He let himself lower his head again as Amber stood up, not waiting to see when Angel would stand with them to get some air or… Whatever it was they were doing. Maybe Kira hadn’t been checking on him and they’d just been trying to tell him what they were doing. That’d be better than them realizing Gall needed them more since it’d mean no realization would’ve been needed at all.

-

Yeah. That was probably it. So he just let himself rest his forehead against the table he was sitting at. Trying to ignore the urge to kick his feet or tap against the table or do some other surefire way of making everyone know he didn’t belong, as if it weren’t obvious enough already. Still, he tried to ignore the noise behind him too. And the too fancy, too tight clothing he was being forced to wear in some poor attempt at tricking everyone he did. More than that, he tried to ignore the too obvious seams that he could feel against his skin. The hands he could feel on him.

-

He bit his tongue, trying not to think about any of it. About how hard it was to breathe, lungs feeling like they were full of smoke or water or something that didn’t belong in them. About the sore spots on his arms and legs, like whenever he’d missed a hit, and mostly in the same spots too. About the hands he could feel on his back, on his legs, on his arms— Just. Everywhere. About the whispers he could hear, the praise and offers that Sparky would be so proud to hear he got to be on the receiving end of.

-

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, feeling his shoulders hunch in more and more even as his heart swelled with every word he half heard. The hand on his shoulder felt just as real as every other hand on him, holding him. Made his heart swell and shoulders hunch just as much as every other hand did.

-

He barely noticed as he was slowly, gently pulled up, and for a moment something tugged at his heart making him feel nauseous, heavy. He barely noticed as he had to lean against someone to stay standing. It was common enough at these anyway, at least. Though, usually, he was being carried instead. The nauseous feeling came back for a moment at that, and he had to try and not vomit right there and then. Some people liked that, some didn’t care, but most didn’t seem to enjoy it. So. Better not to.

-

Fresh, cold air hit his face, and he realized he was outside. Not too many ever… Did Sparky come to get him? Was it time to leave already? He couldn’t— He couldn’t remember if he’d gotten anything. Spark would be upset if he hadn’t. Surely he’d gotten something. Right? He didn’t want Fin to be upset with him. He shook, a full body shiver forcing its way down his spine. It almost hurt, and for a moment that seemed to prove that Sparky had come to get him, that he hadn’t gotten anything while they were there, that he had spent his time one of the only ways he wasn’t supposed to.

-

He took a breath, shallow and shaky and not how he was supposed to be breathing, before he realized he’d been holding it. How long? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t think it mattered too much. He’d probably been without air for longer before anyway. His neck felt sore. Maybe that was why he wasn’t breathing right. Maybe that was why he hadn’t done what he was supposed to do at these parties.

-

Except, then he caught sight of a camera, and the incessant noise got a little clearer, and then— There was a flash of light in his eyes. He stumbled against the stopped figure he’d been leaning on. What was happening finally made sense. He wasn’t leaving yet. Fin wasn’t dragging her out to leave, upset and angry and barely waiting to shock him. No, they weren’t leaving yet. Spark had just gotten a good offer. One of the ones she’d heard earlier, maybe? He wasn’t really sure. Not about that, at least.

-

Cameron was sure that she heard someone telling him to smile though. The voice was so much clearer than all of the other noise around her, after all. So he did, trying to feel each muscle in her face to make sure it was the smile they wanted. He started trying to unbutton her shirt after, not wanting to make whoever the voice belonged to have to tell him to do that too, she knew how it worked. Though, admittedly, the buttons on the shirt didn’t really seem like they wanted to listen. Or maybe that was just his fingers, stiff and slipping and simply just not working the way they were supposed to.

-

She pulled at the buttons, trying to ignore the sting behind his eyes each time they wouldn’t come undone. It was the one thing she was supposed to be able to do. He was just supposed to make sure that the cameras got what they wanted from her, but no, he couldn’t even do that. She couldn’t even get the buttons undone on a shirt that it was hard to breathe in. He pulled, fingers shaking and eyes burning. She was still smiling though, he knew better than to let that slip. The last thing anyone wanted was a picture where she wasn’t smiling. A smile could fix any picture. So long as the actual problem in it got fixed too at some point. Like not being able to get his clothes off.

-

The air seemed warmer again, like she was back inside. Maybe they’d decided to wait until he’d managed to get everything off to go outside. Maybe they’d decided she was wasting their time. His throat tightened up at that idea, and she pulled at the buttons some more, trying to figure out how he’d only managed to get three undone so far. Her shirt should’ve already been off. His pants should’ve already been off. She’d been so good at it once. When had he gotten so bad at it?

-

She was on the ground. He couldn’t remember when that’d happened. How that’d happened. Probably Sparky had pushed her down. He’d wasted their time, blew their chances at some easy cash. Him being upset at her was only fair. He couldn’t stop pulling at the buttons like she could salvage it though. If Fin had his phone on him then it wouldn’t be impossible. He could get everything off and Spark could take the pictures. Chances were he knew what pictures they had wanted of her anyway. Right? So he kept pulling at the buttons of her shirt, watching a fourth one come undone.

-

Tears were falling down his face by the time the fifth one came undone, Cameron could tell that much. She couldn’t figure out why there were hands on his wrists trying to keep her from unbuttoning more though. The cameras liked as much skin showing as possible. Fin liked as much skin showing as possible. Sparky liked as much bone showing as possible. His wrists definitely weren’t small enough for his liking. No wonder she’d felt nauseous earlier. No wonder it was harder to get his shirt off for the camera—

-

No wonder someone was trying to keep her from taking everything off. His breath hitched with the realization, nausea hitting her full force again. He didn’t want to be unlovable. She wanted the flashing lights, the cameras and pictures and videos— He wanted the praise and offers and money and pride. She didn’t want to be worthless, he didn’t want to lose everything she’d worked for, learned how to do.

-

Cameron sobbed, giving up on undoing his shirt buttons. She at least kept up his smile. Whatever happened, she at least had to keep up his smile. She could always fix his weight, after all. She could always fix everything wrong with him. Whatever it was, she could fix it. He just had to have time. She just had to convince Sparky not to give up on him. And smiling throughout whatever he decided to do would help, would prove that she wasn’t a complete lost cause.

-

With that in mind too though… He lifted one of her hands up as it was let go, and shoved it down his throat. She didn’t have a strong gag reflex, but he was already nauseous and she knew enough about what he was doing to manage to make herself throw up on the floor in front of him. It burned, just like it always did. It hurt, and Cameron just about vomited again while taking her fist out of his throat. For a second she didn’t though, so he pushed at the nausea still there, pushed at her stomach with the hand not covered in bile, and— Managed to vomit a second time.

-

He was still smiling throughout, and Spark was probably happy that she still knew how to do that at least. So it was a win. Even if breathing felt harder to do after, even if he knew that she’d still have to deal with whatever Fin decided he needed to go through. She hoped it was something nice, at least. Like fucking him senseless for a few days. Maybe he’d shock her hard enough that he’d get to sleep through it and wake up to broken legs. She could be okay with that. At least he’d get some sleep that way. She was tired. Really, really fucking tired.

-

He blinked at the hands on her, blinked at the colors that didn’t look like Sparky, and tried not to panic too much at what that meant. He didn’t have enough energy to do more than try to shift a bit away. She didn’t have enough energy for more than furrowing his eyebrows, pausing a second at the feeling of scars she couldn’t remember getting, and mumbling out a quiet, confused, “..S-Spark?”

-

The people around him shifted back then, throwing glances at each other. She couldn’t figure out what was going on, where he was. She’d been with Fin just a moment ago, hadn’t he? Cameron… Couldn’t actually remember. She could’ve sworn he had been though. Her throat tightened up, he scooted back on the floor. She didn’t know what to do. Was he just supposed to wait? Was it a test of some kind? Maybe Sparky was trying to see if she’d let these people have their way with him. That’d make sense. Figure out how broken she was, how much he’d have to fix. So he bit her tongue, sat where he was, and waited. She could make Spark proud still. She could.