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"If this is what you want, you've got it." She hits play and motions to the screen.
It's a clip of me with Sandy. Neither one of us looks all that interested. And she does look like a cheap groupie. Which makes me look like a tacky asshole who not only fucks cheap groupies but fucks them without any enthusiasm.
"Danielle has some image of you with a redhead. I don't know. I don't get it." She presses her lips together. "I know I'm fighting way out of my weight class here, but she won't listen to me. If I suggest a big change, she'll either throw a fit or fire me on the spot. But you… you have a bunch of rights in your contract. You're in charge of the video. You own all this footage. You can fire her and hire someone else to cut it together. I'm not saying you should do that, but she knows you have that right. She knows she has to listen to you if you demand a change."
"Go on."
"This… this could work with this footage. But only if you tell a story other than Mal likes to fuck groupies." She turns towards the computer and scans through the footage. Something in her posture changes.
It's the same thing I see in my younger brother Ethan. He falls into this trance when he's working on a song. And he doesn't snap out of it until it's perfect.
Lacey has that same passion for her work.
That same excitement in her eyes.
She hits play. "This, this tells a story."
She points to the image of me, staring out the window with longing. Then it's me and her in that bed, kissing, touching, groaning. She stops on a frame of me pinning her to the bed.
"This footage is raw, but I can already imagine it cut together. Women everywhere would swoon over this. Mal Strong, tender, passionate, in control." She goes to a frame of me sitting in the bed with a miserable expression. "Heartbroken. That's the Mal Dangerous Noise fans love."
I nod. She's right.
"And it's hot. Women everywhere would touch themselves to this video."
That same red flush spreads to her cheeks.
There's something knowing about her expression.
She's one of these women.
"You'd be okay with that?" I ask.
"Oh, well, this is just hypothetical. You'd want to reshoot with a new actress. A professional."
"What if I want you in the video?"
"But I… I'm not a model. Or an actress."
"You agree this footage is good?"
She nods.
"And Danielle won't use it?"
"I don't think so. All her stuff is pretty and glossy in this Hollywood kind of way. Did you watch any of her videos?"
"A few, but it's not my expertise." I can almost see what she means when I squint and recall Danielle's videos. They were lacking a certain raw energy. "What would your version of Hurt Me, Baby look like?" I ask.
She stops on a shot of me pinning her to the bed. "This raw power… that's the Mal everyone wants to save. Or to fuck. Or both." She pushes past her blush. "And that's the song. It's about wanting to hurt someone you love because they've hurt you. You need that half of it."
My chest tightens. She's dead on. But nobody looks past the way I sing like I'm in the middle of a fuck to get to the actual content of the lyrics.
"What's the other half?" I ask.
"There's a vulnerability there too. It's not just fuck you, asshole. It's also I love you, why did you hurt me? Something like this." She scans the footage until she gets to something of me sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into the distance. "You want the mix of pleasure and pain. The I love you and the I hate you." She pushes back from the desk. "Stop me if I'm wrong."
"No. I like your i
