Doll (MikaYuu)

♦06♦ - Wonder

The parties could either end in three ways: it would generally be a moderate time, as I would be asked questions, served food, and commended; I would be sold as a prostitute for a night; I would wind up escorted out sometime in between. So far, I have not found a fourth outcome.

I recalled one of the nights where I was eagerly begged to be interviewed while I was having dinner. Of course, to meet the public's demands, I was escorted before I could finish and was led to the white-carpeted walkway into the dim room with blaring neon lights, balloons, streamers, excited admirers, journalists, officials, and cameras. They went hysterical as I walked out, and I had to walk slow so they could each get a chance to touch me in some way.

It was just apart of the nature; letting the admirers feel what I was consisted of. It sounded selfish and narcissistic, but that is what it was.

Some stroked my clothes, my hair, my face. Luckily a guard would interfere if I was touched sexually, but I was so used to it that I hardly noticed.

"Jeunesse! Jeunesse! Over here!" "Can I have a picture!" Lights flashing and questions raging and overall excitement. I just smiled lightly, making my way up to the slightly elevated stage with a large red sofa that I was sat on, prepared to answer the questions for the night.

Viníce stood next to my sofa; she was the only branch of my family that I worked with, therefore she could grant or forbid questions that were asked to me. Some I was forced to answer, and I only could deny if she said I could. They could ask me the most personal question to exist to one's being, but I was forced to answer if Viníce said that I could not deny. I had to meet the public's demand.

They clipped on a small microphone to me so I could be heard over the commotion and music from the dining hall. After a moment, everyone eventually quieted down and there was a translator who was selecting people for questions.

I generally enjoyed this part of the evening, despite any negative opines or inquiries. Most of them were just honest enthusiasts who wanted to discover more about me, which I found very benevolent.

The translator eyed the crowd, ignoring the people who appeared too eager."First question, lady in the blue."

"Jeunesse! Nice to meet you!" a young brunette excitedly said from behind the velvet rope. I could tell she was one of those obsessive admirers, more chirpier and elated without even an answer. I smiled at her.

"You as well."

"Okay, so quick question: are you single?"

They all murmured, most of the women getting fairly interested and quite hysterical as they awaited for me. Even if I were dating, I knew I had to keep this answer open. The key was to always meet their demands, even if my answer were not true.

"Yes, I am single."

More hysteria. I was not sure why, for I had been alone since my career, not including the relationship I was set up for when I traveled internationally. Apparently, if I were to have a partner with me, my chances of molestation dropped, which was surprising because it would typically raise the chances to create conflict with my career.

"Young lady in the pink top."

Another brunette, she had to be around the same age as me, with glasses. "Hello, Jeunesse, good evening." She had a strong French accent, a light voice.

"Bonsoir, mon cheri."

Connecting with my French admirers was a must, as they were the roots and stems of my popularity. I did not do it to be enticing, but to be polite for their culture and to ease conversation tension.

"Are you planning on modeling in Paris this year?" Murmurs of agreement sounded about.

I was planned to model in places all across the world, from the Western hemisphere to the Eastern, and considering we were devoted to French nature, I had to.

I nodded, earning a smile from her. "I believe that I will."

I went through a series of similar questions like this, and luckily for the many I had been asked, they were not rude or jabbing and everything was easy going. Viníce had happened to plop down next to me somewhere in the meantime, secretly nudging her leg against mine. I ignored her, focusing on what my job was.

The males tended to ask me more business-wise questions typically because they were from companies all across the world trying to dig me out for journalism and admired our company. We never looked down on others, mainly a coordinating company, but we never sent one our staff for the others. It was like moving out of a mansion to a house in the terribly noisy city.

Females asked all kinds of questions, one of them asking to sneak up and take a picture with me which security forbade. I winked at her and she seemed to be satisfied.

A male was selected to answer, a slightly snarled, yet kind face with short black hair. "Jeunesse, in the lingerie photo shoot you aired a couple weeks back, what was your opinion on what you were wearing?"

A sudden eruption of laughter and coos rang out, making me slightly flustered. Viníce even side-eyed me.

"Somebody pull up a picture!" a shout rang out, resulting in immature cries.

The security began to quiet the crowd, Viníce rolling her eyes. I crossed my arms, waiting for silence as my heart raced.

I had done lingerie shoots nearly since the beginning: male, female, unisex - all kinds. I no longer wore men's underwear, but my categories were expanded to women's underwear, thongs, corsets, garter belts, body stockings. In short, it was no secret as to what my body looked like under my clothes anymore. After the expansion into the world of near nakedness, my body was known to anyone in the fashion realm. Not to mention the in-between-leg shots and shots I did that were over my shoulder.

"I, um... I thought the design was very exceptional and stimulating, and I feel like its selling will be very successful," I earnestly said once it got more quiet. "The designers seemed to be very proud at its development and were ecstatic to see me modeling it."

That sold them over. That was about the only slightly disturbing remark I had gotten that night. I would not have minded the question on how I felt about it, but the excess ruckus had slightly made me feel uneasy. Then again, my discomfort never mattered, so I ignored the thought.

After another ten minute round of questions, I received one question that I never forgot, even to this very day. I still think about it often, even at the most random of times.

A young blonde, just old enough to enter the night's party, stepped up front and had asked, "Jeunesse, do you hope to fall in love?"

The question seemed ignorant to most, as if the answer were obvious and laying right in front of us all. But the truth was that I did not know. How was the answer certain to me? Was it an obvious yes? Or no? The question was like one of infinite answers, and it was, which was why I thought about it through the rest of the evening and through all of the questions. I never stopped thinking about it.

I didn't know what it meant to be in love or what its purpose was. All I knew was that people did it, resulting in romance and sexual tendencies, which is where my answer slipped into a negative slope. I did not favor sex at all. I had been molested too many times to favor it and what it was. The idea of it was spoiled for me.

But I've heard good things about it, like experiencing things you do on your own just with someone you favor. It seemed nice, but why? Why did I need the other person to feel additionally happy? What did I even know about love?

I sat at the dinner table that night, finally finishing my meal, but I pictured someone across from me.

Someone I loved.

And that's what I had to say about it.