He Told Me I Wasn't Fine

Chapter 3-You Look Different

Recap from chapter 2...

Camille's P.O.V.

Lambo was cut off by Mr. Owner, "Camille." Giving a look to the boy that we'd finish this conversation later, I got up and entered the office. Making myself at home, I sat down in the chair, only to be picked up by Twin #2 and sat on his lap.

"Uh what are you do-" I was cut off by the sound of latches clicking. I saw my wrists and ankles were pinned to the chair by metal bars. "What the fuck are you guys doing?"

Lambo cringed at my deeply scary voice and his twin ran his hands through my hair to calm me down. I didn't dare move or struggle. These chains would tighten if they feel resistance. And I have a feeling I'm sitting on Twin's lap because now I can't pick the locks with a hair pin. Damn it.

Mr.Owner turned on the projector in his office. Instantly a slide show of pictures were displayed on a wall. But he skimmed through them so fast I had no clue what they were. Instantly he stopped on a video. A very familiar video. His booming words rang through the office.

"What is this?"

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Chapter 3-You Look Different

Camille's P.O.V.

I shudder and lean back into Twin as he twirls a piece of my hair, not even paying attention to the conversation. Lamberto is leaning against the door frame with his eyes shut. Those boys had better not have watched that video, or I will get them.

Quickly, I play blonde, "What is what Mr. Owner?" That ought to distract him. He frowned and raised an eyebrow while kicking his feet up onto his desk, "Don't you play blonde with me Camille. Mr. Owner trick ain't gonna work today honey." He does a horrible southern accent.

I pouted, "Hey that's my line. And I don't talk like that!" Mr. Owner scoffs like the twins, "Hey it wasn't that bad." I gave him a look, "It sounds as bad as that new McDonald's commercial pretending to have 'real sweet-tea' because their chicken is real. And we all know that stuff ain't real. Stupid Yankees."

(No offense to any northerners, southern joke. Comment if ya get it ;) )

Lamberto laughs, "Good thing we were born in Italy and moved here!" I sighed, "Yeah whatever. Don't care." Mr. Owner crossed his hands, "Now what was in that video? What is that video? Who is in that video? Why are you in that video? And I want an explanation now missy."

I'll tell him anything, he's like my dad. If I was ever going to have one, I'd be him. The twins can not know. They know enough to last them a life-time. I secretly point to the boys and he gets the point. Sighing he un-locks my chains as I rub my wrists, "Boy's leave." They both shout, "Hey! No!" "OUT!" "Okay fine we're leaving. Don't kill Camille."

Twin number two, I need to know his name, Twin number two is just so forking long! How about I call him T. Good enough. T raises me up by my hips and I let out a groan and a squeak from the bruises there. Quickly, T set me in front of him and asked with his eyes to take a look. Lamberto turned around from the door to make sure I was ok. I recomposed myself and slowly moved T's hand away, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Once the boys were gone, I sat back into the chair, knowing it was useless to escape. I had to explain the video. Now before your mind goes straight to thinking the video was porn, it's not.

Mr. O clicked a button to lock the door and again pointed to the screen on the wall, "I attached a video camera to the front of your shirt a couple days ago. Here is the footage. Sorry for prying into your life but you really need to tell me to make this situation better."