Psychological Control

CH 6

Seeing this novel hasn't been updated in ages, and I wanted to read it real bad, I delved into the cursed realm of MTL. While I was at it, I thought why not post it to make everyone suffer with me? So, here you have it, MTLed "Psychological Control", enjoy~ (To be real tho, DeepL is a legit good translation site, saying it to those poor souls who still use google translation)

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"Greetings, boys!"

While the crowd was at loss for words at the scene before them, Jonathan walked in with a make-up artist and stylist in tow. "Welcome to the semi-finals of America's Next Top Model, are you guys excited?"

As the cameras started rolling, the boys began to get restless. Not leaving them in the dark for long, Johnny announced today's challenge which, as I expected, was a masquerade themed runway show. It would be the first face-to-face between male and female models.

"This will be a dramatic, dark and sexy couture lingerie show. You will be partnered with a female model and, after walking to the end, you will kiss your partner." Jonathan looked at the dozen or so male models surrounding him.

"The jury on stage will evaluate your performance today and it'll determine whether you advance to the next round or not. Everyone can be eliminated and so try extra hard to look good at your first photo shoot the end of the catwalk." The sudden news of the photo shoot caused the crowd to break into whispers and discuss.

Jonathan left after the announcement and several cameras continued filming the male models as they began to take turns in getting their makeup and hair done.

The hairdresser straightened and waxed my curly hair at the back of my head so that my face was highlighted without the hair on the sides of my ears and forehead.

The make-up artist highlighted my cheekbones and the bridge of my nose, and every guy wore eyeliner and even some smoky make-up, so I changed my usual demeanour when the make-up artist used eyeliner to draw the corners of my eyes in an upward curve. Or maybe converted to a nightclub state.

I looked at myself reflected in the mirror, even for strip shows I usually only focus on the costume look, I had never seen Brian's body painted with such heavy make-up, at this point I looked at Brian and thought I had seen a live fox all the time.

It reflected in the orange light as a fiery red hair colour, like the fur of a fire fox. Matching the pale complexion, I picked up the mask on the dressing table and set it on my face, curling the corners of my mouth.

As the MC called the curtain, the models came out in a line and took up positions on either side of the stage. The male models were facing the female models, who were also wearing masks, and the MC began to announce that the male and female models would take turns to stand out and choose their partners.

It seemed that because I had come out at the back of the room, I had to choose my partner after the second pair of models had finished. I immediately saw Alice, who I remembered from the female models, and who was in the same review group as me.

I walked up and chose her.

Alice herself was tall, so in her heels she was already at my height. She and I had similar stride lengths and we walked side by side down the long catwalk, with the main event at the end. I was the first to find the camera lens facing us.

As arranged, we needed to take off our masks in turn. Unlike Alice, who was trying to overpower me with her wildness, who was quick to rip off her mask, I took it off with no slow grace by undoing the ribbon at the back of my head, using the most common eye toss of a Peking Opera flower girl in the moment of revealing my eyes, which would present a moment of amazement under that subtle eyelid movement.

I didn't budge an inch in her face, reaching out with an arm that wasn't facing the camera and wrapping it around Alice's waist, I forced my eyes on her until she lowered her eyes out of habit and avoided my gaze.

As the interview went on, it was like a big social gathering backstage. A small circle clearly formed around Alice and me, boys attracted by Alice's looks, girls curious about my experiences.

The most persistent of Alice's suitors, who didn't go anywhere near Alice, was a Christian boy, Jamie, who was predictably still a virgin. He is shy and smiles like an angel, but his muscular body gives him a little more manliness. A cross between pure and sexy, he may not go all the way as far as I can see, but he could certainly go a long way here with his temperament.

Although Jamie kept trying to make conversation with Alice, Alice, who has long been familiar with boys like this, clearly didn't care, she just chatted with the girls. It was clear that she would only focus on the game and nothing else during this match. The only boy who could talk to Alice was me.

"So you and Alice were in the same group in the re-election? Cool!" Jamie turned to talk to me, "If I remember correctly, you were partners at the lingerie show as well."

"Yes," I was originally just sitting next to Alice reading a book, and not wanting to seem out of place after Jamie addressed me, I spoke up in response, "The only one of the female models I was familiar with was Alice, so I chose her."

"Oh, Brian. I wish it wasn't me you knew so well." Alice interjected as well when she heard us talking, and she chuckled to herself, "I can't believe I was overwhelmed by your swagger at the end, I can't believe you'd normally be a nerd."

Mike revealed in the chat that he had been discovered by Taylor in the ice cream van and so came to enter this time in America's Next Top Model. He didn't have much experience in modelling, so he curiously opened up and asked me about my skills.

"Not much of a technique," I said with a smile as I looked at an equally curious Alice, "the reason I've taken the initiative has to do with what I've done in the past."

"I would work a few odd jobs throughout the day, but the most lucrative one was part-time dancer." I said to Nina's half-open surprise, "George Robles Dance Company takes on the role of jazz dancer, so I have plenty of stage experience and don't get too nervous."

"Really?" Ashton, the first mixed-race African-American boy I spoke to on the bus at the airport, said excitedly, "Oh, I've always wanted to see a George Robles dance show live! I just never got the chance!"

I watched Ashton's reaction with amusement; he was clearly a party animal. Chris, who had been rather withdrawn, also looked over curiously.

"Brian, let's have one live!"

Ashton's suggestion got the circle going, drawing in Marvin who had been hanging out with a group of boys and going around hooking up with the female models. They were up in arms and beating the beat.

I knew that to stand out in front of the camera lens I needed to be out of place with the people around me and show a different tension than usual in the hard shots.

But being too much of a lonely nerd wasn't to America's liking either, and I needed to get my future housemates to find a topic of conversation that I could relate to. The background label of jazz dancer should be just right to hit their high points.

I didn't push back, I just put the book down on my lap and stood up. Then I reached out and hooked my fingers for the camera and, to the roar of the crowd, pushed my hair back in my head and started to dance. Hot dancing is never the point of igniting the atmosphere, and the crowd was in high spirits as I did a close dance to Ashton, who had suggested it.

I stopped dancing after Ashton turned red through the ears and began to coax everyone to join in the raucous dance fest. I didn't want to be the only one showing off my skills, it was too easy to attract jealousy.

The waiting time slipped by unnoticed amidst the buzz of the mingling party. When it was my turn to audition, as my story had impressed Taylor and Rob so much, my main aim this time was to impress Norma, who was mean but determined to help you a lot afterwards. Norma doesn't recognise horseshit, only strength.

She was clearly smiling when my hard pictures were shown on the big screen in the studio. I was a little surprised that the picture chosen was not the final movement of me holding Alice, but the moment I took off my mask. Because my pace was half a beat slower than Alice's, Alice could only gaze at me as I unlocked my mask.

My mask was on Alice's side as if in denial, but my eyes were rakishly seductive as they faced the camera. It was hard to imagine that a hard photo taken during a catwalk could reflect the emotion of the show.

Taylor complimented my eyes, while Rob praised my naturalness and confidence on stage, and the slight angle I leaned forward to the camera at the end, creating an oppressive pose.

Norma smiled at the end and said, "Your photo is as impressive as your personal experience, which is hard to forget. If this photo reflects your true strengths, I'm sure you can go far."

After the morning auditions, the models boarded the bus and began their journey towards this season's All-American Supermodel villa. Looking around at the relaxed models, I knew the day wasn't going to end that easily.

A villa, no matter how big, squeezing in 35 people was refusing to be possible. Past semi-finals have ended up with no more than 20 contestants. The half that would still be left after this evening would be the ones who actually made it to the official semi-finals.

"Gentlemen and ladies! Welcome to this season's Supermodel House!" Andy, the head of social media, who manages the hard photo voting for the models, took over the hosting duties as the models got off the bus.