Page 100 of Fake Game

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 façade.

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.

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