Charlie

(you are a guy)
You stood there and Charlie taped your hands. You'd trusted him for 10 years of friendship.
Then he took a small bottle of Tabasco out of the fridge. He placed the bottle in your mouth, taped it down, and then forced your head up. You felt the sauce burn slightly, making you wince. Charlie saw it but only chuckled.
The most unexpected thing was the octopus. It was dead, not scary. Charlie bought it at the market yesterday. He placed it on your neck and just above your sternum. All for the cover of his new song.
You looked straight into the lens. Without blinking. Without moving. Charlie clicked the shutter. Once. Twice. He photographed you from different angles and views. You, in turn, looked into the camera with the "right expression. "
Charlie commented on each pose: "Good, great, fantastic, smile here," and much, much more. Soon, Charlie stopped, sighed, and smiled. You get the idea: he took a photo. And apparently, he chose a good shot.
The octopus was cold, an unpleasant chill against your skin. You pointed at it with your eyes, as if to say, "Take it off, my hands are full." Charlie looked at the octopus and laughed.
"Why? You're perfect for each other."