Chapter 19: 18

 

I ended up missing that elimination, and although the film ended up winning Best Short Film, I was forced to withdraw from the competition to assist the police investigation due to obligations of a semi-strong nature.

Ashton was obviously furious that this had happened to me, he had always made it his mission to win America's Next Top Model and overpower the female models. And now that one of the male models, who in his opinion is a good one, has been forced to withdraw from the competition, doesn't that in effect weaken the male model side?

But really, given the demand for models at Guess these days, the chances of the organisers letting a male model win this America's Next Top Model competition are slim to none. But I'm not about to dash his dreams in advance. The so-called male and female first time showdown is just a tool to generate buzz, and the male models this season are just giving the female models a run for their money.

Chris was silently in the room with me packing, and I could see that he was depressed, but there was also a look of relief. He offered to call me every Sunday so I wouldn't forget.

Chris was now the only person around me who allowed me to have some contact with a normal life. After the illusion Mike had portrayed had been turned upside down. Maybe I really should start thinking of ways to trap Chris in my circle of life, at least his presence would make me seem less withdrawn.

The coyote doesn't yet know that what he is about to step into is not the pasture he imagined, but a forest of predators. Selfishness is perhaps the term that has come first in my inner circle since I became Brian.

Although the end of America's Next Top Model took me by surprise, it was a good result to drop out halfway through the competition for unexpected reasons because I had also won Best Short Film before dropping out.

Rather than losing and being eliminated, it's the abrupt end at the end of a not-so-high or not-so-low achievement that will be remembered. Because the audience can't help but wonder if he would have won the supermodel competition if he had kept going. That sad lament would create conversation and perhaps turn into an advantage I could use.

Also, I deliberately acted like I was actively cooperating, but only to avoid the one word that came out of Mr Blackface's mouth unintentionally during that interrogation. the BAU team.

The BAU team, who specialise in psychological profiling, frightened me more than the average FBI agent or seasoned detective.

After my semi-forced exit, I followed those two FBI agents and flew back to Miami like a prisoner escort. At the same police headquarters where Sheriff Harry had been before he retired, I gave an honest account of the various other side jobs Mike had mentioned under his breath, and as a sign of good faith, I made a point of bringing up his little habit of going fishing on weekends.

Finally, I was able to get back to my rented cabin before the FBI agents applied for BAU intervention, speed up my packing, and move up my previously scheduled flight to report early to Stanford University in California.

I was glad that I really didn't know anything about what Mike had done. Otherwise, I don't think I could have survived the scrutiny of the BAU team of profilers without revealing anything suspicious to them.

It's really bad luck to drink cold water.

I could be approached by the FBI even though I hadn't done anything wrong from the beginning to the end. I can only pray that the statements I took while dealing with those two FBI agents will not arouse the suspicion of anyone in the BAU team.

All it would take is for them to get a little suspicious and do a little background check on me. They would know that I was a man who had the experience of being locked up in a mental institution for over ten years. The reason for the incarceration was still trauma and sociopathic tendencies.

A sociopath who has fully satisfied the conditions of a potential offender, and a fugitive psychopathic serial killer who was a deep friend for two years. I didn't even have to think about it to know that even if it eventually turned out that I wasn't actually too related to David, my profile as a potential offender would have been backed up in the FBI archives. The information might even have been pulled directly from that mental hospital.

Maybe it was time for me to find out more about that BAU team. After all, knowing your enemy is better than knowing your enemy, right? I didn't want to be on the wrong side of justice, but I didn't want to be watched by them under that pretext either.

Being a mouse on a cat's tail would have increased the vigilance in Brian's personality and was not really conducive to my mental control. On the day it gets out of hand, it's too late to think about it.

Having said that, Mike's exposure was ludicrous.

Shortly after Mike spoke to me on the phone on Sunday the previous week, he was investigated by the police because the intern he was working with had been compelled by a "buddy" of one of the dancers in the troupe to sell drugs to the customers on the sly. This investigation led to the loss of his vest and his forced departure.

How is this different from the serial killers of history who were ticketed for parking in the wrong place and then missed the net?

Two years of a safe little nest was ruined by a few drugs, and I don't think he would have survived long if the kid who sold them hadn't been temporarily detained by the police for investigation.

I knew that my indifference to those around me would cost me some friends, but I didn't think that indifference could also put me in danger.

In retrospect, Mike's free time after work, apart from the occasional afternoon tea with me and a beer at the club in the evening, was only excused by fishing in the fish pond. I couldn't even identify Mike's room when the police showed it to me, which was already empty. Because I had never been to Mike's house, or even wanted to be there.

The two FBI agents therefore thought for a moment that I was hiding something for Mike and wouldn't let go from the police station. Luckily, the nosy Jonathan hired a lawyer for me, after the lawyer made the case that what they were doing was interfering with my daily life and would not waive said rights if necessary. I was finally able to leave.

Of course, it wasn't all peace and quiet.

I noticed a nondescript jeep often parked around my rented house, always with plain-clothes policemen who never got out and walked around. I guessed that my network would also be monitored covertly, and that this would most likely be the work of the FBI.

But what the hell with surveillance, I used the internet to look up the events surrounding the killers in the East End of Florida.

Most of the victims of the East End serial killings were innocent women between the ages of eighteen and thirty, and they all had one thing in common, red hair and pale skin. David Vincent's target turned out to be a female Ginger, a similarity to my oozing gender that only my gender difference can give me some comfort.

The modus operandi was strangulation and suffocation, and the features of the body, apart from the fish-line marks on the neck that almost cut through the skin, were all missing a ring finger bone. There was a lot of newspaper coverage and a lot of social unrest, and I was still locked up in that mental sanatorium, out of step with the world.

I don't know how many times Mike had to wash the blood off his hands before he walked through my door and picked up the afternoon tea I had prepared.

 

I would say that there is a cage in everyone's heart, and no matter what is in it, as long as it is properly locked up, everything will always be fine. If unfortunately that cage is opened, then one can only pray that the monster is not too big and too scary.

Whatever David's reason for opening that cage is, it really has nothing to do with me. After becoming Brian and being influenced by his anti-social personality, I now feel less and less about friendship and love. Only my obsession with Dexter could make me feel that I was a human being with feelings that existed.

The surveillance van outside the rental house finally withdrew two days before I left Miami, perhaps finally establishing that I, who spent my days at home packing my bags, really had no contact with Mike.

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From what I knew from the untraceable condescension of the two FBI agents who had investigated me. Three years ago, David had fled on the news because of all the commotion in the news when the BAU team had just gotten involved in the case and the police had just narrowed down the suspects to a certain number.

After that, he never let any bodies be found as far as I know. No body, no crime. That's why he was able to hide comfortably in the crime haven of Miami for two years without showing his face.

And now it's a case of almost getting caught red-handed, so I wonder just how many rabbit holes he has left?

I just hope he doesn't make a smart ass out of himself and make me one of his rabbit holes, although it seems that he and I get on very well together and the two of us even get on very well. But I am definitely not as compromised with him as I would be if I were harbouring Dexter.

My twenty-odd years of life won't allow me to compromise once more. I just want to be a psychopathic and somewhat benevolent sociopath, and I don't want to be an accomplice to a madman.

David will not stop killing after opening the cage that traps the monster inside him. For my part, I would never under any circumstances let out Brian's inner monster, that was my promise to myself. Because I was afraid, I was afraid that I would become less of my old self.

I don't want to die, physically free or in control of my own psyche, and I don't want to give up either.

That's why I chose to enter the limelight, to monitor myself in the limelight. It's much better than being watched by the FBI.

......

After packing a few boxes of household items that I would need, I mailed them ahead of time through the post office to a bachelor pad around Stanford University that I had rented by contacting the homeowner online.

The last day in Miami was also the last day of the America's Next Top Model photo shoot.

Before I left the supermodel house, I exchanged phone numbers with Ashton and Chris. Chris had called me the previous week, the first weekend I left after withdrawing from the competition.

He wasn't in such good shape, although he didn't say that he was affected by me, or even avoided the subject. But I could still sense it in the hard photos on the official America's Next Top Model website, which were not up to scratch, and in the tone of the phone call. To do some coyote taming duty, I helped him with a psychological session.

Although I hadn't tried this kind of psychiatrist work, after all, I had been sick for a long time. After that one call, I never heard from Chris again, and he was doing well in the new week of hard photos on the official website.

Lying in the green grass, his snow-white complexion and platinum blonde shaggy hair, slightly propped up and rushing towards the camera, made him look like a vampire who had only just woken up.

And in the two weeks since I left, the judges had eliminated Alyssa and Konani, and for a while the boys had a numerical advantage. Yet right after that Jamie and Dan were also eliminated. The girls' advantage didn't last long though, as Gianna and Nina were also eliminated.

In the end it was down to Alice, Ashton, Marvin, Chris and Rena competing for the top three.

The America's Next Top Model homepage only announced this result and did not dramatise the final three contestants or the winner, intended as hunger marketing for the official show to be aired in the second half of the month.

Randomly clicking on the discussion board on the America's Next Top Model homepage, I scrolled down to the comments under my own hard photo.

BeautyByLia: Brian is so beautiful as a woman... ahhhhhhhhh! What is it about being a woman that I suddenly feel ashamed of?

Maia meow: I think it's Ashton's strong woman who has the swagger... Brian won this last one entirely on his face, right?

Hey Its Angel replied to Maia meow: Brian is the best! Will you shut up if you don't understand? Brian is a man when he wants to be a man and a woman when he wants to be a woman! Ashton is always a pussy when he wants to be and a woman when he wants to look like a siren!

Maia meow in reply to Hey Its Angel: I think you're the one who needs to shut your mouth, homophobia! Anyway, your Brian has withdrawn from the race for personal reasons, which to me means that he has the self-awareness to know he can't win, right? And you use siren as a derogatory term, homophobic?

Libby Walker in reply to Maia meow: ­­In my opinion there is nothing to argue about. The only male model who has a fighting chance with Alice is Brian Moss, as evidenced by his first hard photo of the masked ball. After he left, Ashton and Marvin, two male models who walk around with one expression, wanted to win the title? Dream on.

......

Hetaliarulz: I heard Brian used to be a jazz dancer in a commercial dance company? No wonder he knows his golden angle so well. Hehehe, would love to see a show of his.

OddUndeniably replied to Hetaliarulz: You're welcome.

olivia bairstow: I love the one of Brian and Chris together the most! It's so sensational. I don't know why, but that hard photo of the two of them was the only male/male team in that issue. Can't wait for this season of America's Next Top Model to air!

Life-And-Golfishes replied to olivia bairstow: I personally still prefer the one of Brian and Jamie, two of the most polarizing men in the same photo, or that kind of theme. I've printed that one myself as a poster and stuck it above my bed.

I made a point of comparing the messages under my own page with the other models and I guessed correctly. The popularity that should have decreased after I dropped out, because of the regret inside the fans who had been following me, was growing with each passing day.

Because these fans who felt sorry for me would share the hard photos on the official website and the video of the last shot commercial to their friends via Facebook and Twitter. This sharing and retweeting created a butterfly effect. The number of people discussing the page grew.

I started to plan into the next step of keeping up my popularity.

Unlike the Asian variety showbiz scene, the European and American showbiz scene is very simple in composition. Those who sing sing, those who act act, and rarely do they inter-act. In contrast, Korean and Japanese entertainment idols are well versed in everything, hosting, singing and acting in variety shows. Their high television appearances make it easy for them to maintain their popularity among their fans.

I, on the other hand, plan to win with my appearances. I wanted to take advantage of the fact that the name Bryan Moss was being searched for at the height of the America's Next Top Model contest to get more personal information about myself and keep the fans interested.

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