Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

TWENTY-SEVEN

DEER

DEERHUNTERR192302: CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU THIS WEEKEND

I stare down at the screenshot Rick sent me, my head still ringing.

They started spamming my DMs after the stream.

I’m just grateful it wasn’t during the stream itself because then Jackson might’ve seen it and he would’ve lost it. Although, it would only serve him right after pulling that stunt. Seriously, I can’t believe he did that.

Was it kinda hot and possessive? Sure.

Was it also totally excessive? Yes.

Am I totally confused about my feelings? One hundred percent.

Still, I don’t need him to know about this and be even more worried about me this weekend than he already is. I’m already nervous as shite, and these comments are not helping.

It’s my first time going to a convention since the swatting incident, and yet the Deer Hunters just had to go and make it worse. I’d barely been able to have fun at the last gaming tournament I went to, because of them, holing myself up in The System’s green room when I wasn’t having to make appearances.

A lot of people attend these events, and it can be overwhelming to deal with them. Because of the way I look, people automatically think they can touch me. Maybe it’s the anime-pink hair, maybe it’s because I’m so small, but regardless of the reason, they feel like I am up for grabs, and I hate it. It’s nice being called cute, until they think being cute gives them a reason to touch you.

I feel like I’m treated like a small and fluffy white dog on the street—people walk past and automatically think they can pat you without asking permission because you seem like a toy.

The lack of consent from strangers makes me want to hide away from the world and stay in my own little protective bubble.

I hate letting that fear rule me.

I want to actually be able to walk around this time and see the different booths. I want to experience the con and not hole myself away from society. There is a fan artist from Canada attending I would die to buy an expo-exclusive art piece from for my new place, and this guy who makes these really cute Passion School varsity jackets that I have to snag for my collection.

The only issue is, as much as I want to do all that, I don’t know how to quiet the noise in my head. The thought of wandering through the crowd alone with all these threats around me is something I’m still struggling to push past. I don’t want to take an entire security detail with me because that will just draw more attention and really make me feel like everyone is watching me.

I groan, slumping backward on the hotel bed and watch the ceiling fan twirl around for a minute. My eyes track the monotonous spinning, using it to calm the nerves that are constricting my throat.

Knock, knock.

“Hey,” Lee’s voice calls out. “Want to help me do my makeup?”

I flop right back up and slide off the mattress, moving to crack open the door. Lee grins at me, bare faced. I brace my forearm against the frame, and give her a look.

“You know we have to be downstairs in twenty.”

“And?”

“And what if I said no?”

She rolls her eyes. “As if.”

“I could’ve still been getting ready.”

Lee nudges the door open and slips past me. “Yeah, yeah. When have you gone to an event and not had your hair and makeup done like hours in advance?”

I can’t argue with that. Getting ready before an event is how I calm myself down and allow my public mask to slip into place—it’s an entire therapeutic ordeal.

“You have to tie me into my corset as payment,” I call after her, following her path to the bathroom.

“Deal.”

I pat my hand on the counter, and she hops up, dangling her legs as I sift through my makeup bags.

I take a quick look at her outfit: low-rise black cargo pants, a cropped fishnet top with a white bandeau underneath, and a pair of Swarovski-covered platform sneakers—in other words, her usual color palette of black and white and nothing in between.

I, on the other hand, am cosplaying as my own farmer from Cherry Farm for the first day, which isn’t that different of an outfit to what I usually wear to cons. It’s a custom pink corset dress; the bodice part is hand stitched with strawberry vines, and the ruffle skirt hits just an inch or two below my ass—which I make up for with sheer white thigh highs and a pair of special-order strawberry-bejeweled heels.

Lee pulls up some music on her phone, and I hum along as I begin painting her face.

“I’m glad they put our meet and greet lines next to each other.”

“As if you’d let it be any other way,” I snort.

“Well, duh.”

She doesn’t say it, but I know it’s so her security team can keep an eye on both of us at the same time instead of having to split their efforts.

“I forget, are you doing the showcase tomorrow?” I grab one of my thinner brushes to contour her aegyo sal before digging around for the right liquid glitter shadow.

“Nah, just the guys are doing that. I do have to be at the Gods League booth for a signing, though. You?”

“Nah, they have me adjudicating the cosplay competition tomorrow.”

“That’ll be fun, though.”

“True. Now, stop moving and look at my right shoulder.” I pick up a set of false lashes with my tweezers and carefully line the band up to her lash line.

Thankfully, other than the meet and greet both days and the competition tomorrow, I don’t have any other obligations during the expo. I would be drained as it was. All five of us do have a brand party tomorrow night, but that’s way later and I’ll probably find a way to dip early.

“Okay, close your eyes.” I grab my setting spray and douse her with a heavy layer. “Beautiful.”

Lee blinks her eyes open and grins at me before spinning to look at herself in the mirror.

“You’re a miracle worker.”

“I can’t help that the Gods gifted me with this talent.” I spin around, brandishing the ribbons from my corset. “Now, tie me up.”

“Kinky.”

Thank fuck I’m facing away from her because I do not have it in me to school my expression. Flames lick their way through my body, combing deep in my center as my mind whirls back to the other night with Jackson.

The man still owes me an orgasm.

It’s been two days, and I’m wound tighter than a clock.

If he’d just let me cum, maybe I wouldn’t have so much of this anxiety bottled within me.

Lee must use every ounce of strength in her body when she pulls the ribbons tight because within point five seconds, my lungs become the size of peanuts.

“Oh my Gods,” I wheeze out. “Gonna let a girl breathe maybe?”

“Beauty is pain.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” She gives me a tap on the butt before walking out of the bathroom “Come on, let’s go.”

***

This line is never-ending.

“Wow, you are, like, even prettier in person.”

“Aw, thank you.”

“Okay, and smile,” the photographer calls out.

I turn toward him, throw up a peace sign, and smile. The girl next to me does the same just before the flash goes off.

“It was lovely meeting you.”

“You, too!” She waves emphatically as she is ushered out of the meet and greet area.

I turn to receive the next person.

“Hiya.” My smile never leaves my face.

“Hi, ohmigosh, it’s so cool to meet you. You got me into playing video games.”

“Aw, really? That’s awesome. Do you have a fave?”

“I love Moonstone Valley, but,” she gestures to my outfit, “I’m also a fan of Cherry Farm . Super cute, by the way.”

I give her a curtsey. “Thank you.”

“Okay, and smile,” the photographer calls out, again.

Bless. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to move through the line as quickly as I am; it’s hard to end conversations when the fans are chatty without feeling like the bad guy. They’re the ones who paid to be here, and I don’t want them to feel shorted.

I repeat my same pose for the camera, and the girl moves on.

“Hi!” I say to the next person.

“Um, hi.” They’re also in cosplay, but theirs is from an anime.

“Cute cosplay.”

“Thanks, I made it myself.” They shuffle up next to me and start to smile slightly for the camera. I take their cue and follow suit. Not everyone is a big talker at meet and greets; for some people, it’s an overwhelming experience.

Hell, it’s overwhelming for me, and I’ve done this dozens of times. The only way I’m able to get through it is by remembering that I’m Deer, not Deirdre, and Deer can do anything.

“Bye.” I wave.

And on and on it goes. I twist back and forth like a spinning wheel, repeating the same motions over and over. My knees start to hurt from standing up for so long, but I push past the pain, making sure that everyone gets the same experience, making sure they all get to meet the Deer they expect.

“Hiya, how’re you doing?”

“Good. You’re beautiful.”

“Aw, thank you.”

I have no idea how many times I’ve uttered those three words today.

I try not to make it sound like I’m just on repeat, but it’s kinda hard to come up with new things to say when you’ve seen over three hundred people.

“Really, you look amazing.” His gaze lingers a little too long on my breasts, but I brush it off. It’s not like it hasn’t happened a bazillion other times today. With how tight Lee made the corset, my tits are kinda unavoidable. But also, people are pervy at these conventions.

“Thanks, are you ready for a photo?”

“Can I get a hug first?”

My smile freezes, my brain whirling for a response. It is explicitly stated on the signs at the start and end of my line that I don’t do hugs. It isn’t that I hate them, it’s just the fact that for every fifty respectable people I hugged, there would be that one person who’d take advantage of it. And the last thing I needed was a repeat of Anime Expo, where someone’s hand basically squeezed my entire ass cheek.

“No, hugs.” One of Lee’s security team steps in.

The man eyes him with a frown but takes his place stiffly next to me and smiles for the photo.

“Lovely meeting you.” I try to put as much warmth in my voice as possible.

“Yeah, you, too.”

I make eye contact with the bodyguard and give him a subtle nod, which he returns before stepping back to his post. They really do make me feel a lot safer. So far, nothing has gone wrong, and no one has been overly aggressive or leery. But that Deer Hunter comment still floats in the back of my mind—anyone in this line could be a potential threat.

My brain begins to scream, and I lock up, reality slipping through my fake facade.

Breathe, Deer. Breathe.

“Next,” the line attendant calls, and I quickly harden my mental walls as I turn to grin at the next person in line.

Again, and again, and again.

It’s right at the end of the event when everything starts to go downhill.

“Okay, and smile,” the photographer calls out.

My hand automatically shoots up in a peace sign, and the perpetual smile that’s been on my face doesn’t falter.

Gods, I hope my makeup still looks good after four hours of this.

The fan I’d been pleasantly chatting with snakes a hand around my waist and I jolt. Within seconds, they’ve pulled me into their body and their fingers are gripping tightly right below the edge of my corset. Their other hand has gripped my arm, and it’s digging into the soft flesh at my elbow to keep me from moving.

My body turns to stone.

“Sir, please take your hands off the lady.” The same bodyguard has stepped forward again.

“I just want a picture.”

“There’s no touching for the photos.” He squares up. “If you do not remove your hands, I am going to have to remove you from the area, without any photo.”

The fan’s grip tightens in response.

Shit.

Shit shit shitttttttt.

“You’re kinda hurting me.” My voice comes out all high-pitched as I try to keep my smile straight.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I feel nauseous at his words. “I just want a picture.”

The bodyguard grips the fan’s shoulder with one hand and has his hand on his holster with the other. “I will forcibly remove you if you do not let go in the next five seconds.”

“What the hell, man.” The fan begins to panic and tries to shrug him off, which causes his grip on me to somehow tighten even further. His nails dig through the soft ruffles of my skirt.

I can’t help the wince that escapes.

“Is there a problem here?”

The area falls silent at the commanding words, and I look up into the faces of three men—well, “faces” is a stretch.

The three masked men push their way into my meet and greet area.

Aleksander’s red mask is just as menacing as always, and he uses that to its full effect as he squares up with the fan, tilting his head to the side. Parker and Jackson are right at his back—Parker looks almost lax with his posture, but Jackson’s arms are crossed over his chest, highlighting his muscles in a way that poses a threat to anyone nearby.

The effect of these men is immediate.

The fan lets me go and basically pushes me aside. The bodyguard is quick to restrain him now that I’m no longer in the way and at risk of getting hurt further.

But I begin to trip over my heels at the sudden jostle, and my frozen mind takes too long to think of a way to stop my fall other than with my face.

A hand shoots out to stop my fumble. The only issue is they grab me right where the fan was gripping me, and this time I can’t school my face as it scrunches at the pang.

Jackson’s hand quickly releases from my arm, and instead he curls me into him, cradling my shoulders. I look up into his deep green mask and my heartbeat starts to slow. Jackson holds my wrist delicately, stretching out my arm to study it.

“Fuck, you’re red,” he growls. “I’m going to punch that—”

“Let’s not make a scene.” Parker’s blue mask enters my field of vision as he places a few light taps to Jackson’s pec. “My girlfriend will remove our dicks if we do anything in such a public setting, and I personally don’t want to lose the big guy.”

“He’s being escorted out of the venue.” Aleks pushes his way to us, and I spot the bodyguard and some of the expo’s security guards dragging the guy off the show floor through the gap he creates. “You good, Deer?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, let’s head back to the suite. Lee’s team is going to bring her to meet up with us when she’s done—but she’s safe, no incidents on her end.”

Their red, blue, and green lights surround me as beacons of safety, blocking out everything else, and it allows my mind to clear slightly.

“Wait, there are still more people waiting to see me.” My eyes break past their barricade to look at the small line of people that still remains, no more than fifteen or so.

“Deer,” Jackson warns. “You need to rest.”

“No.” I shake out of his arms. “No, it’s not fair to them. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We can let them join the line first tomorrow,” Aleks tries to barter.

“They’ve been waiting for hours.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Would you guys leave them?”

I can’t see their eyes, but I know I’ve struck a chord because each of their shoulders droop ever so slightly.

“Fine, but we’re staying.” Jackson shifts off to the side and rests on the metal bar that separates my area from Lee’s. He looks like a gargoyle standing watch, and I can’t say that I hate the way it makes me feel to have his protective presence.

Aleks joins him, leaning on the metal rail as well. Parker, however, drops to the ground and pulls off his mask. Aleks kicks him and Parker rolls his eyes before sliding the mask back on and standing with them too.

It makes me laugh.

I lock my eyes with Jackson’s mask and give him a small nod of my head, which he returns.

Then, with a deep breath and new smile on my face, I turn around and greet the next person in line.