Page 138 of Make Me Laugh

Faux fur piles the bed, soft to the touch when I walk by, leaving my mask on the blanket for later. I step on a floorboard that announces my presence.

West pivots, and when he sees me, he lowers the glass at his lips before taking a sip. He’s dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans that fit him better than anything I’ve ever seen him in and a white T-shirt to keep his overall look simple. Part of the crew is a small style team in charge of making sure we look camera ready, and I bet it took them ten minutes to make West look this effortlessly handsome.

“Fucking hell.” He finally breathes, dragging his eyes over every inch of my exposed skin. “I can’t believe they’re paying me to do this when I would have done it for free.”

It took the style team over two hours to get me completely ready, between the hair, makeup, nails, and wardrobe.

They touched up the grown out blonde money pieces I haven’t had the time to take care of before styling it in a beachy wave, and then gave me the manicure I meant to make time for last week. Makeup didn’t take terribly long since they’d chosen a muted and natural look. My face will be covered by a mask mostly, so there wasn’t any need to waste time there.

They did have me change a few times, finally settling on a tiny black satin slip dress that hugs my curves, barely covers my ass, and has a slit on the left side stopping above my hip. The pushup bra I’m in makes it hard to breathe, but it draws attention where they want it to be.

Their intentions for this shoot are clear. All eyes on Hex and West Parker. I’m not in full Hex wardrobe, but they’ve alluded to the idea of what might be underneath the clothes we’re used to seeing her in.

They did request my most intricate Hex mask though, which Hilda shipped to me.

It’s West’s favorite too. He’s made sure to tell me.

West hums a satisfied sound and downs the shot in his glass, placing it on the fireplace mantel.

“How’s the tequila?” I ask, smirking.

His eyes fall to my deep red lips. The makeup artist made sure to tell me it’s a kissable lip stain with little to no transfer.

There’s no script here. We’re on our own, expected to make everything up as we go. We were given a direction: sexy, passionate. Hex and West Parker—who we’ve shown them we are online.

Not who we are behind closed doors.

There’s this underlying understanding between myself and the creative director—they’ll show the in betweens.

I can trust them. My gut made the decision long before my brain did.

The cameras are rolling until we unplug the main power source… Which we were told to do when we decided we’d gotten the content they’ll need.

“Wanna taste?” he asks.

“I’d love one.” I prop myself on the corner of the bed, slowly throwing one leg over the other.

The second I walked into the room, the cameras started rolling. They know nothing where my face is visible is allowed to be used, but they can clip from wherever they want.

Joey didn’t walk into this room.

Hex did, masked yet or not.

Cameras watch our every move, but with West I always feel like we’re in our own bubble where no one can reach us. It’s just me and West… Recording together like we have been since Baltimore. We’d fallen into a comfortable routine, usually able to get videos within a couple takes now.

West snatches the bottle off the mantle, stalking towards the bed. He towers over me, forcing me to crane my neck back to catch his hungry stare. “Let’s get this over with quickly, okay? I don’t want to waste a single second of you looking like this.” He reaches out and runs a hand up the side of my arm, his ringed fingers scattering my skin with goosebumps. “And since they have to edit anything with your face out anyway...” West brings the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back to take a gulp of the smooth liquor. He grabs me by the underside of my jaw at the tip of my throat before he pulls the bottle from his lips, guiding me to my knees on the edge of the bed and slamming his lips to mine. I don’t know where the open bottle goes, and I don’t care.

This isn’t a sweet, go slow and enjoy the ride kind of kiss… This one’s starving. It has something to lose.

I get the taste I asked for when West slides his tongue into my mouth, the burn of my favorite tequila lighting every single one of my senses on fire.

I might have come into this room as Hex, but West doesn’t see it that way. He’s never seen me as two different people but is still able to separate them when it’s needed for me.

On stage and in front of fans, I’m Hex, but behind closed doors with him in my everyday life, I’m Joey. He knows there’s no Hex without me.

He leads the kiss, making sure to keep my face angled away from the main camera so they can’t sneak in too much from this moment.

West acts like a simp on stage, and I know he would probably do anything for me, but that’s not the West I want all the time. I like when he makes the decisions, or when he cusses his best friend out for being too pushy when it comes to business that affects my feelings.