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Snap. Snap. Snap

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Snap. Snap. Snap.

Endless photos, uncomfortable clothes and people staring at me. Why did I have to be a model?

Snap. Snap. Snap.

More photos, new positions and a grumble in my gut. When was the last time I ate?

Snap. Snap. Snap.

“Okay gorgeous we’re done for the day,” a sleazy voice informed me, letting me stand up from the uncomfortable position I was in.

Flash. I’m engulfed in darkness. Blinking, I find no - there’s no darkness they just turned off those god forsaken lights. God I had a headache.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

“Well done Cassy,” Crowley’s voice purred as he pocketed his phone, “now you have two more shoots for today and then we’re done till tomorrow.”

Groan. I’m so tired, how do they expect me to remain attractive if I am running myself ragged?

“Buck up Castiel,” Crowley sighed, slapping me on the back, “now go get out of those clothes.”

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Just block out the sound. The contract only lasts ten years. If I don’t die first.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Crowley’s off on the phone again and three people are surrounding me, taking off the makeup and clothes and shoving me into a button up and slacks before practically throwing me at Crowley.

Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle.

A car door opens. I’m shoved in the back, Crowley hops in the front.

Slam. Clack. Groan.

The car starts. My stomach groans. Can I eat something? I stare out the window to occupy my mind.

“Fucking hell,” Crowley curses from the front seat. I look up at him to see him growling at the traffic that bloomed up in front of us.

“We are in the city,” the driver – Meg – sighs, “you had to expect this.”

Shut up Meg, Cas sighs, zoning out I hear Crowley yelling, but I can’t hear the words.

Every day it’s the same.

What if I just close my eyes?

“Cas wake up you fool we’re here!” Crowley roars, making me jolt. I had just closed my eyes for a second.

I mutter an apology that just makes him angrier. Fantastic.

I climb out of the car, listening to the thud of the door closing as Crowley gets out, on the phone once again.

“Cas,” Meg hisses from the front door, “you’re starting to get pale, you need a break.”

She’s worried. I shrug it off, tell her I’m fine. I’m fine; I think I’m trying to convince myself too.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Screech. Slam.

Another building, another photo shoot.

The hell is this costume? I have to what?

Nobody cares. I’m a model, I don’t have brains. I’m just a dumb toy for people to look at.

That’s what they keep telling me.

Maybe they’re right.

Flash. More of those damn lights. Can I get some water? No!

I have a partner this time, she’s nice. But she looks so sickly. Do I look like that?

Snap. snap. snap.

We’re forced to kiss. She tastes like cigarettes.

Snap. snap. snap.

We’re pulled apart, she is dragged away by her manager to get changed, and I mine.

I’m stripped again, being perved on by the sleazy old man who runs this joint.

He comes over and feels me up. If I react poorly I’m out of a job, I’m ruined. I don’t react at all.

Crowley saves me. Thank god.

I’m dragged back out to the car, fuck I’m hungry.

Meg’s half-finished burger doesn’t help. Maybe I could have a bite.

“What were you thinking letting him touch you?” Crowley asked, his voice a quiet yell.

I try to explain I didn’t let him, he just started doing it.

“Thank fuck you’re not a woman,” Crowley grumbles, “otherwise you’d be knocked up by now.”

I climb quietly into the car. If I were a woman my father would never have let me do anything with my life.

I don’t say that. I keep quiet as we drive to our last destination. I’m so tired.

Bicker. Bicker. Bicker.

I silently wonder if Meg and Crowley loath each other. They’re always fighting.

We arrive and I’m ushered in. we’re late.

I’m alone again. And unfortunately for me, it’s an underwear shoot.

Men and women both perve on me as I walk over to the set in the skimpy underwear. Who would ever buy these?

“Where the fuck is the camera man?” someone yells, I look forward to see that there’s nobody manning the camera. Behind it, on a chair sits a gorgeous young man who is scribbling in a notebook. Another model?

He really is stunning. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.

“Dean where’s your halfwit boss?” someone else yells, making the gorgeous boy look up, his glasses sliding down his face.

“I’m not sure,” the boy – Dean – replies, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Probably passed out in the alleyway,” a woman grumbles next to the set, her arms crossed. Abaddon, the manager here, “Dean, take the photos.”

“Me?” Dean asks, tumbling off his chair and scrambling over to the camera. Our eyes lock, he gulps. “O-okay.”

I’m pressured into an uncomfortable position, everyone staring at me like I’m for lunch. but not Dean.

Snap. snap. snap.

 I ignore the grumble in my stomach. Watching Dean with ‘bedroom eyes’, noticing the slight erection in his pants, it makes me smirk.

Snap. snap. snap.

Dean breathes heavily as I am told to spread my legs and continue my seductive look. What is this even for? A porn magazine?

Snap. snap. snap.

“And done!” Abaddon cries happily, telling Crowley something.

“Cassy, I will be back momentarily, go get dressed,” Crowley tells me before they walk off, I walk with the makeup and wardrobe girls, and they help me into a regular appearance once more.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I open the door, ushering the girls out.

Its Dean, I feel my pulse quicken. What’s wrong with me?

“H-hi,” Dean stutters, blushing. He’s even more gorgeous up close. Why isn’t this angel a model?

“Hello,” I smile - a fake smile. I don’t know if I can really smile anymore… “can I help you?”

“Sorry, I know you probably get this a lot, but you’re gorgeous, perfect even."

He's so cute.

"And I know you’re probably tired of modelling, but I was wondering if you’d model privately for me, and now that I’m asking it seems like a terrible idea… s-sorry…”

He’s cute. I laugh. I smile. What is this feeling?

“I’ll work something out with my manager, I don’t really get free time,” I admit, watching a disappointed expression dawn upon his face. I don’t like it, it hurts.

“Oh.”

“But would you like to keep me company until my manager comes?” I ask shyly, watching him brighten up.

I step aside and let him into the room. Our hands brush. My heart skips a beat.

Am I sick?

I leave the door open. We talk. And talk. And talk.

He’s so cute. And smart. And treats me like a human. He’s not like everyone else.

Am I falling in love?

Knock. Knock. Cough. Cough.

I look up. Crowley is standing in the doorway looking equal bits amused and angry.

Fuck.

“Castiel, it’s time to go,” he informs me. He’s equal parts annoyed and amused.

I stand obediently. But Dean stops me. His hand hot around my wrist.

“Whenever your free, call or text me,” he says, handing me a card. My heart stops and I feel my face heat up. Crowley huffs angrily.

I smile at Dean and slip the number into my pocket. Farewells are made and soon I’m heading back to the car.

“Give me the business card Castiel,” Crowley says, stopping me in my tracks.

I ask why.

“You know why.”

No. no I don’t.

“Do I need to remind you, I own you!”

You do not own me.

“I am the one who gave you a career!”

A career that is killing me!

“Killing you? Bullshit!”

I don’t remember the last time I ate! I don’t remember the last time I slept for a reasonable amount of time.

“How is that my fault? You need to take better care of yourself!”

But how can I when you take seventy five percent of my payments?

“It’s to keep you safe!”

I can barely afford the apartment I never get to go home to!

“you’re being dramatic!”

 “No he’s not!” Meg buts in before I can reply.

She lists. She lists the amount of times I have gone home. The last time I ate. How tired I look.

She points out every little thing that she has noticed.

“Both of you get in the car, this conversation is over. Castiel you belong to me, for another five years.”

I close my eyes, to stop the tears. I’m scared. I concede and get in the car.

I’m driven home. I sleep for four hours before Crowley enters my room and forces me out of bed. He complains. He’s rougher than usual. And above all else it seems like his mission to keep me from eating.

He’s punishing me for my rebellion.

I sit in the back of the car once more. Talking to Dean.

This continues.

One year passes.

I sit with Dean on a rare moment of freedom. Crowley is preoccupied with his mother’s arrival in the states.

“Why didn’t you ever consider modelling?” I ask Dean, watching him flare up.

I bites his lip for a moment in thought. I stare at the flesh between his teeth. I want to kiss him.

I’m not beautiful. I’m not confident. Never appealed to me. I didn’t know what he would say.

“I’m secretly an international spy and it would blow my cover as a giant dork?” he jokes, his eyes dipping to what only I would assume was my lips.

I want to kiss him.

“Be serious,” I say, brushing aside my feelings. What would he want from a dumb model anyway.

He looks nervous.

“I’m hiding from someone,” he admits, a blush on his cheeks.

“Who?”

“My father.”

Oh.

“Tell me more?”

I pry, and I try not to think about how pink his lips are.

A second year passes.

Snap. snap. snap.

I kissed him. In front of Crowley no less.

Crowley was furious. Dean was stunned. And they just kept fighting over me. Over the fact that I am just property. Just a tool to make Crowley richer.

I faint. Seems not eating finally caught up with me.

I awaken in hospital. They scold Crowley and I am told by the doctors not to continue this lifestyle.

But it seems I have no choice.

A third year passes.

Snap. snap. snap.

One message changes it all.

Run away with me – Dean.

I smile and look up to where he sits. He’s the official photographer of this shoot.

I’m definitely in love

Snap. snap. snap.

I text one word back.

Yes.