by Isa Mazzei
“Romeo?” My voice was too loud again. This was the guy who cracked jokes in my room? The guy who photoshopped my face on an ostrich for a laugh, and who regularly told everyone to shut up so I could finish my story?
“Yes. RomeoTurtle.” He glanced down at my feet, still avoiding eye contact.
“Oh my God! Romeo!” I reached to hug him then pulled my hands back as he flinched. “You’re the first person from my room I’ve seen!”
His voice was soft but quick. “Can I have an autograph?” He pulled out a silver Sharpie from his back pocket and gestured to his black shirt, which I now realized already held several autographs scrawled in silver.
“Of course! How cool!” I held out the Sharpie and paused. I had practiced my autograph for hours the night before, after realizing I hadn’t given Una a last name. Una by itself seemed too short, but I had found a good solution: XO, Una I signed, with a flourish.
This is working, I thought. I’m basically already a celebrity. I wondered if anyone had seen me sign the autograph.
“Thank you.” Romeo smiled down at the autograph and slipped the Sharpie back into his khakis.
“Oh gosh, you’re welcome!” I smiled at him, trying to catch his eye. He kept his gaze slightly to the left of my face.
“Can I get a picture?”
“Yes! Of course.”
Romeo pulled out a camera and glanced toward Alex, who was waiting for me by the hostess stand. He seemed unperturbed by Alex’s presence. I beckoned, and Alex took the camera from him while I moved to his side. I gingerly set my hand on his shoulder. Alex snapped a photo and passed back the camera.
“Okay, well. See you around.” He lifted his hand in a wave.
“Wait, Romeo. Can I hug you?” He hesitated, then nodded, and I stepped forward and wrapped his small body in a hug.
“My first fan! You’re the best!” I released him, then moved back toward Alex and the restaurant. “Don’t forget to send me that picture!”
He nodded and waved and skulked off, smiling.
“Can you fucking believe it, Alex?” I asked as we walked to our table. “My autograph. He wanted my autograph!”
“Pretty crazy,” Alex agreed. “Who was he again?”
“RomeoTurtle. I think he came after you left my room.”
I smiled at my plate, almost too excited to eat. I couldn’t wait for the expo. I couldn’t wait to cam tonight and tell everyone I had met Romeo. I couldn’t wait for Romeo to see me online again.
“I’m famous. I’m literally famous.” The cow-protesting martyr in me would be so proud.
“I never doubted you,” Alex said, passing me a menu.
×××
The next day, I dressed in the special convention outfit I had picked out weeks before: black leather leggings and a black silk bustier top with a red hair flower. I stuck on my fake lashes with extra glue and painted my lips with an extra coat of retro red lipstick. I had a bag filled with Sharpies and headshots I had printed the night before at an all-night Kinko’s. I posed for several photos at the door, which I made Alex take and retake until they were perfect enough to post on Twitter.
“Bye! Have a good day!” I was leaving Alex behind, worried that someone might see us together again. “If you come to the expo, please don’t fuck up!” I called this out casually as I left the room, slamming the door behind me. Alex got off on being special. He had acted well in front of Romeo, but I was nervous he might find it funny to demonstrate his secret knowledge of Una in front of some of my fans.
The expo was in a large convention center full of people in various states of undress. There were people in latex bras, leather dresses, and stripper heels. I waltzed past the line and wormed my way into the room labeled “talent,” where I picked up my pass.
“Name?” The bored girl behind the table glanced up from her iPad.
“TheOnlyUna,” I said, proudly.
“Legal name?” she asked in the same bored voice.
“Oh.” I let my voice drop to a whisper. “Isabella Mazzei.”
“Great. Welcome. Here’s your pass. Here’s a map of the expo. Here’s your spot.” She highlighted a section of the map and passed it over to me. “Have a great day.”
I nodded, grinning like an idiot.
I left the talent room and wove through the crowd, staring down at my highlighted map. I passed people in silver spandex, vinyl mini-shorts, pasties shaped like slices of pizza. A tall woman in moon boots pushed past me brandishing a whip. A girl in a fishnet catsuit offered me a sample of organic lube.
I spotted the MFC tables, sandwiched between the Brazzers section and a booth selling biodegradable dildos. I strutted up to it, confident. This was my spot.
A collection of camgirls stood around the tables, talking to fans, talking to each other, arranging headshots and taking photos. There were booths for most of the cam sites, but MFC’s was the biggest. A couple girls had their laptops set up with hotspots, live streaming the event. I recognized AllieGirl almost immediately, sitting front and center as a featured guest. I saw a few other girls I recognized. Ginger was off to the side, talking to a tall blonde with long hair I knew was named Pepper. I smiled awkwardly at them.
“Oh hello! Una.” A short girl with a clipboard smiled at me, glancing down at my name tag to confirm who I was. “We have a spot for you over here next to Pepper. Do you need some Sharpies?”
“Oh, I have some, thanks.”
I followed her to a small sliver of table covered in swag with MFC logos: cups, banners, stickers, mini vibrators, and small gold “tokens” that we could sign and give to fans. I took a seat on the stool and smiled shyly at Pepper. Ginger caught my eye from the right and waved excitedly, pushing her way toward me. I smiled.
“Oh my gosh, Una!” Ginger gave me a hug. “So good to see you.”
“You too.”
“I didn’t know you were gonna be here! Why didn’t you text me?”
“Oh…uh…I just decided last minute.”
“Una, this is Allie,” Ginger said, gesturing behind her to where Allie was seated.
“So good to meet you,” I gushed, trying to sound genuine. “I think you know my room helper, Demon?”
“Oh yeah!” Allie smiled. “Demon’s been in my room for years now.” She turned to greet a fan who had approached her table.
Another fan waved at Ginger. “Ginger! Hi, it’s ShadeStalker.” He was wearing a bright blue shirt and had a giant camera around his neck.
“Oh! It’s so good to meet you. My friend Una and I were just catching up!” She kissed me on the cheek and moved forward to sign a headshot.
I waved at him and took a seat on the stool next to Pepper, who was typing furiously on her laptop. It was far too loud in the convention center to actually cam. She had her mic turned off and instead was waving, smiling, and typing to viewers.
I watched her out of the corner of my eye. I took out my headshots and laid them on the table next to me, readied my metallic Sharpies, and scooped several gold tokens into a pile in front of me. I was ready for my fans. I waited. A girl in thigh-high white boots and a thong walked past the booth and waved at Pepper. I smiled uncomfortably, a little kid at the grown-up table, took out a Sharpie, and doodled a flower on the back of a token.
“Oh wow, oh wow,” a heavyset man rushed up to the table, nearly elbowing others aside in his hurry. “Oh wow.” He stopped in front of me, smiling widely. I smiled back, excited, and set my flower-token aside, getting ready to reach for a headshot.
“Pepper!” he exclaimed, barely glancing at me. “Pepper!”
She looked up and smiled demurely. “Oh, hello.” She held out her hand like a queen, and he took it gently, shaking it ever so slowly up and down. She withdrew her hand. “Would you like an autograph?”
“Can I have a picture? Please?”
Pepper smiled, her wide blue eyes giving her a look of doe-like innocence. “Pictures are twenty dollars. But for you, I can do ten.”
His face fell for a fraction of a second, and he glanced down at the table.
“Well, actually, um…can I get a picture of your feet?”
Unfazed, Pepper shook out her blonde hair and casually uncrossed her legs under the table. “I’m sorry, friend. That would fall under the category of custom work.”
“But it’s just a picture.”
“I know, but it’s a custom picture.” She moved her blue eyes and looked at me. “Right?”
“Right. Definitely.” I nodded vigorously.
“Okay, well, um. How much for that?”
“Well my customs are quite expensive. Especially considering the circumstances.” She gestured to her laptop screen. “I mean, I’m working right now, you know?”
“Right. But just one picture. Please?”
“I’m sorry, I am only offering pictures with me and autographs right now.”
The man’s tone took on a gentle whine. “Come on, Pepper, how much? Just tell me.”
She shrugged casually and blinked at me. “Four hundred. I’m sorry, that’s the best I can do.”
“Please, that’s so much.”
Pepper’s eyes moved back down to her laptop. “Four hundred.”
“Please, Pepper.” His whine drifted higher.
She flicked her hand in his direction, as if to shoo him away.
“Pepper…” He was biting his lip and shaking a bit, his voice like a small child’s. Pepper glanced up lazily from the laptop, her eyes cold.
“What do you expect? A freebie?”
The man said nothing, clutching his camera tightly.
“You expect a girl like me to give a guy like you something for free? You’re lucky I’m even letting you speak to me.”
“Just one picture—please, pretty please. You’re so beautiful!” His voice rose louder, catching the attention of Ginger, who looked over and smirked. Pepper typed something slowly to her chat room.
“You’re a piece of shit, aren’t you?” Pepper laughed softly, almost under her breath. “Give me four hundred dollars, or I’ll call security and have you escorted out.”
“Pepper, please, I’m your biggest fan, I just—”
“Four. Hundred. Dollars.” She held him in an icy stare. “Now.”
The man reached into his back pocket with shaking hands. He pulled out a cloth wallet and pried apart the Velcro. He took out four bills and set them on the table, breathing heavily.
Pepper rolled her eyes and picked up the money, slipping it inside her dress. In one fluid motion, she lifted her legs from under the table and plopped them, crossed at the ankles, elegantly on the table. She had long, pale legs, with delicate feet and pastel-blue toenail polish. She wore clunky wedges, with white rubber soles and blue suede straps.
“Go ahead.” She gestured at her feet. The man let out a deep breath and, grabbing his giant camera, leaned forward and took a torrent of photos, the shutter snapping quickly.
“Stop.” Her voice was cold again. “I said one picture.” She pulled her legs off the table and hid them away again. The man’s face was flushed.
“Sorry. Thank you. Thank you so much, Pepper. Thank you.” He bowed slightly. “Thank you. Sorry. I’ll leave now. Thank you.”
“Bye, Dominic.” Pepper half-waved and then turned back to her laptop, typing furiously again.
Holy shit. They had done this before. It was only when she said his name that I realized I had witnessed an elaborate, prearranged ritual––some sort of humiliation role play. I watched Dominic weave his way among the other tables, glancing back toward us every once in a while. I looked down at my untouched stack of headshots and the pile of gold tokens. Another fan had come up to talk to Pepper, and Ginger was talking excitedly with AllieGirl, who was laughing.
I spent the next several hours helping Pepper. And by helping, I mean agreeing enthusiastically to whatever prices she set for whatever her fans requested: photographs, autographs, a lock of her hair. She seemed willing to sell just about anything, and in the course of the afternoon I watched her stuff nearly two grand into the top of her tight blue dress. We had a system, she and I. She would set a price, the fan would balk, she’d bat her lashes in my direction, and I would confirm that, in fact, three hundred bucks for a lock of hair was a very, very reasonable price. Most girls didn’t even sell their hair. Pepper was the most generous camgirl in the world.
As the expo carried on, throngs of men approached our table. They introduced themselves by their usernames––sometimes I knew them, sometimes I didn’t. They asked for Pepper’s autograph, and Ginger’s and Allie’s and mine. We posed for photos. They walked away with arms full of headshots and gold plastic tokens. I wrote my username and Twitter handle beneath every autograph.
“Be sure to follow me!” I’d call out as they left.
At one point a man was snapping photos of us from afar.
“Is he yours?” Pepper asked me, shrugging toward him.
“I have no idea. Maybe?” I waved. He continued snapping photos.
“Paparazzi, man…” Pepper let out a breath. A wave rushed over me. Paparazzi.
×××
That night was AllieGirl’s after-party, and I was excited. Maybe I hadn’t exactly been the star of the expo, but I had signed autographs and met fans like the other camgirls. See, you’re a part of the group, I told myself. And anyway, parties are where you really shine. Now was my chance to show myself as the wild, slutty, party girl I knew I was. This event would be full of camgirls, but I wasn’t about to let that intimidate me. I would outshine them all.
“Outta my way!” A naked girl with blue hair and matching pubes ran through the foyer of the hotel suite, dripping water from the pool as she ran. A lithe, blond man followed her, shaking the water out of his long hair like a dog.
Alex was wearing a suit. I was wearing a black lace dress. The dress code said cocktail attire, but clearly this was a clothing-optional party. I waved my purple camgirl wristband at the bouncer. Alex’s was silver: non-industry. We floated into the party.
I felt someone grab my elbow.
“Una?”
I turned. A slightly chubby man in his mid-forties held out his arms. He had a goatee and green eyes. “I’m Nerd! From your room. 1NerdyGuy?”
“Nerd!” I gave him a huge hug. “How are you?”
“So good. I’m so happy you’re here. I missed you at the expo.”
Alex approached, holding a club soda with lime. “I got you a drink, Una. Club soda.” He held it out to me.
“Oh, thank you.” I took it and gestured to Alex.
“Knight, this is 1NerdyGuy. Nerd, KnightMan_77!” They shook hands, both keeping their eyes on me. This would make a good photo op.
“This is so crazy. Two guys from my room meeting each other!” I pulled out my phone. “Fist bump, I need a picture.”
They obliged, their fists meeting and remaining there, while I took a series of photos.
“Two Unatics meeting at the after-party!” I narrated my Twitter caption, posting the photo. “So cool.” I squealed and clapped. Nerd gave me a hug and meandered over to the bar.
I turned to Alex. “Knight, seriously. Can you believe this? Can you freaking believe this?”
“It’s pretty wild.” Alex smiled obligingly. “Weird to hear you call me that.”
“Wow, okay, where should we go first?”
Alex stood against a wall, near the corner of the room. “I’m happy here.”
“What? No, we have to go do stuff. I mean, this is the most incredible place ever. Don’t you wanna just go look at everything! Do you think I should get naked?”
Alex laughed uncomfortably.“Whatever you want, Belle.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Alex smiled weakly.
“Okay, whatever, I’m gonna go find Pepper!” I gave Alex a wave and left him to his own devices. He walked over to where several awkward men in suits were clustered around the bar. They stood near each other, not speaking, just staring into the party.
The suite was huge. It had a grand entrance, a large foyer with a tiled floor, and a grand staircase leading to the upper levels. Through a set of sliding glass doors was a large infinity pool looking out over the strip. The pool was split into three sections separated with large white columns. Everything glittered: the tiles, the floors, the walls.
Some girls wore cocktail dresses, some wore lingerie, some wore bikinis, and a couple, like the one I had seen earlier, wore nothing at all. Most of the men wore suits, but some were in bathing suits, sitting in the pool talking to girls. I stepped out onto the deck to look for Pepper. Two people in the corner of the pool appeared to be having sex.
I walked back into the foyer and toward the VIP room, where a large bouncer guarded the door. I glanced inside. AllieGirl sat on a couch, surrounded by several men with gold wristbands. She waved at me but didn’t invite me in. I moved past and peeked into several other rooms: a few were occupied by couples making out, a few were empty, and then, near the end of the hall, I spotted her: Queen Molly.
Queen freaking Molly. The first camgirl I had ever seen online. The definition of absolute perfection. Queen Molly sat alone on a white leather couch, sipping elegantly on what looked like a piña colada, despite the fact that I was quite sure the bar was not offering piña coladas. She was wearing a white tube top dress, platform leopard-print heels, and a pair of sunglasses perched on her forehead. She was sitting near the entrance to the room reserved for camming, where multiple girls sat with their laptops on couches, tables, and chairs.
NOTICE: This room is for REGISTERED camgirls of MYFREECAMS.COM ONLY. By entering you are consenting to appearing on live-streaming media, proclaimed a notice taped to the wall. She wasn’t in front of a laptop, but instead seemed to be soaking in all the other girls who were camming. There was a manic energy in the room as girls ran back and forth with drinks and appetizers, stopping to wave to each other’s viewers.