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When I pass Sally in the hallway, without looking up from her phone, she says, “Next scene is in a classroom. Brice is the teacher. You’re the slutty student.”
“Not very original,” I mutter under my breath.
“Don’t fix what ain’t broken,” Sally says back, glaring up at me. “This scenario is the first one I ever filmed. So you might say you’re walking in my shoes.” She points to the shoe closet in the changing room. “And if you wear those gray trainers, you’ll literally be walking in my shoes. Not that anyone cares how this studio wouldn’t exist without me. No, heaven forbid anyone take me serious.”
I give her a faint smile to show I understand her bitterness, but when I turn away from her, I curl my nose at the thought of wearing shoes she broke in filming a similar scene. This sets me down the dangerous road of wondering what else in the changing room she’s worn. It’s a thought I quickly dash from my head.
Brice has selected skinny slacks, a shirt he only buttons halfway up, and a corduroy jacket with elbow pads. He looks like the quintessential sexy professor. And despite just cumming with him minutes ago, I want to climb up him and ride him again.
Ten minutes later, we’re back in the studio, the shoeboxes replaced with a few desks and a blackboard on wheels. The young guy in charge of the lights is copying a complex math equation from his phone onto the board. As if that’s what people are going to be looking at when they watch this video.
The only guidance we receive for this shoot is that Brice is supposed to be sitting at his desk, grading papers, when I walk in. I’m trying to convince him to take my paper late. The way I finally get him on my side is to get him under me, so to speak.
That’s how it’s supposed to work, but this scene isn’t going smoothly at all.
“Cut, cut!” Greg calls out for the third time. I was just pulling up my skirt, revealing that I’m wearing no panties underneath when apparently I twisted my face. And not in a sexy way. “What the hell happened to your energy from earlier?”
Brice simply shrugs.
“I’m sorry,” I say and get back in starting position. “Let’s just try it again. I’ve got this.”
But I don’t have it. I don’t have anything. The truth is that Brice is tripping me up. He’s doing everything right in front of the cameras, but I know him deeper than some lens can see. His body language is saying that he’s committed to the scene, but his eyes hold nothing but contempt for me. Each time our eyes connect, I lose my focus and either forget what I’m doing or grimace as though I’m about to cry. This does not make for quality adult entertainment.
“Once more from the top then,” Greg announces in an exasperated tone. “Let’s at least try to get far enough for a cutaway to a different camera this time, shall we?”
I manage to get further into the scene this time. I’m giving Brice a lap dance, turned away from him quite on purpose. But eventually we have to face each other again, and when those judging eyes fall on mine, I simply lose it.
“What’s the matter with you?” Breaking character, I leap off of him and scream so that the sound guy yanks his headphones off at the sudden rise in volume.
“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Brice is playing it cool, but he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” I say, careful to keep what I’m saying vague enough that nobody realizes what’s going on between us. After pulling my clothes back in place, I take off, right past Greg. “I just need five minutes.”
My feet lead me down the hallway to a stairwell I’ve never seen before. Then I’m walking up until it ends three more stories up at the roof access. The door’s not locked, but I prop it open in case it locks from the outside. The weather has taken a turn from the crisp blue skies of the morning. A gray haze has infected the air, filtering the sun’s light so that it’s merely a glowing patch of lighter gray amidst the dreary landscape.
If I was hoping the air would clear my mind, I’m left wanting. Even distance and time and silence leave me without an answer as to what to do about Brice. Ever since his stupid talk the night before, the fracture between us has been growing. Not with loud outbursts that would release the tension and get everything out in the open, but with a silent pain like walking across town in shoes half a size too small.
Allowing myself only three minutes, my mind goes in every direction at once. Imagining a future with Brice if I were to give us a chance. Thinking back to the past and how, if I’d just been a little more careful, he never would have found out about the cam side of my life. Wondering where we go at the end of this month when our deal with Greg wraps up.
The feelers of my mind spread out, reaching as far as they can in the little time I give them before reeling them back in. Despite all the ground my thoughts have covered, I’ve gotten nowhere. I’m still standing on the roof with no idea of how I can make any of this better.
I quit two years ago, but, god, could I use a cigarette right now.
Back down the stairs, I’m practicing the words I can say to Brice to make this all better. Vague promises that I’ll consider what he said last night. I don’t want to lie to him, but we need to get through this day, this week, this month. After we’ve earned our money, we can worry about us and what this all means. Until then we need to leave out feelings outside.
Which is exactly what Brice seems to be doing when I walk back in the studio.
“You’re good to go?” Greg is asking Stellar, one of the women I met in the changing room the day before. She’s wearing a similar school uniform to me; only she’s rolled up the waist of her skirt so her bare ass is hanging out the back. Brice is sitting at his teacher’s desk. He notices me walk back in but refuses to meet my eyes.
“What’s going on?”
Greg turns and pulls me to the side. “Brice said that you needed a break, but we really need to get this filmed before lunch, so I thought we could just substitute Stellar in for this one scene.” Seeing the way this obviously hits me, Greg misinterprets the reason I grind my teeth and look to Brice. “Don’t worry. This doesn’t affect our agreement in anyway. It’s not like I’m petty enough to deduct
this from your pay. Everyone has off days. Just get yourself together and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Then his focus is back on the stage, and he’s repositioning one of the cameramen.
Stellar and Brice are talking. Something he says makes her giggle and slap his forearm. This instantly makes me hate her, which is weird because she was so nice to me the other day. I have no reason to have anything against her. But she’s hotter than me, her dark skin perfectly unblemished, her eyes big and deep, and her breasts at least twice the size of mine. All this and she’s clearly flirting, which is something I should brush off. There’s no reason to be jealous. I mean, that’s the whole reason for this spat between Brice and me in the first place. I don’t think our friendship needs to be redefined in any way except to add ‘with benefits’ after our label of each other.
