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They were having fun at my expense.
And then I looked up at the back of the room, there was my best friend. Max stood in the doorway, a determined look on his face, and I knew without even exchanging words he was urging me to move forward. Supporting. The one person in my life I could always count on. He’d moved on. He’d become successful. He was doing something he loved. He was running a hotel. And what the hell did he know about
running a hotel?
I owed it to him. I owed it to myself. To be the man I was. And right now that was a man who directed porn.
These students might think I have zero talent and no creativity simply because I choose to direct porn instead of traditional film or television.
Screw these little bastards. I was gifted. I was talented as fuck.
I didn’t need Grace—or any woman, for that matter—to make me believe it. And tonight I was going to prove it.
I lifted my chin, taking in the nameless faces in the crowd. A murmur had settled in the room and I used the disinterest to my advantage. I moved the podium to the side of the riser, took off my suit jacket and tie, rolled up my sleeves. And when I looked down at myself, I pulled my shirt out of my pants, letting it fall in a wrinkled mess. I even released my hair from the bun and let it fall over my eyes.
I took a deep breath.
“My name is Ben Lockwood and I work for the adult entertainment production company White Lace.”
Five hands shot up to ask questions, but I held up my hand, signaling them to wait.
“We’ll take questions at the end. First you’re going to listen.”
Today I was going to be myself. The person Grace had told me not to be.
“I came here ready to defend myself, because that’s usually what I have to do. It’s what I had to do last time. I’m sure you’ve all seen it online. The session was a hot mess. I was a hot mess.”
There was laughter in the crowd.
“Last time I was trying to be someone I’m not. I am a college dropout who got lucky. I might have talent, but how far I could go, I have no idea. How far I want to go, I have no idea. I might have a full-time job. I might make money, and some of you might think I am the luckiest guy in the world, but I’m stumbling around half-blind, trying to find my way just like everyone else.”
My hands gripped the sides of the podium and I tried hard to drown out the pounding of my heart against my chest.
“You’ve already got more education than I do. My knowledge comes from experience. And I can tell you that I’ve learned probably more from Cory than he’s learned from me.”
I smiled at the kid and he blushed. Agreeing to have him intern with me had been the best decision I’d made since becoming vice president. The plans he had for his own future had opened my eyes to the possibilities I had for mine.
“I love making movies. I got lucky with porn—no pun intended. My best friend’s dad owns White Lace and pretty much after we graduated from high school we both started working there. But I’ve been making movies my entire life. Aliens. Cops and robbers. Re-enactments of Harry Potter.” The group laughed. “Don’t laugh. It was good practice for when I filmed a XXX version.” They laughed again.
“But it doesn’t matter what you film. Documentaries. Hollywood blockbusters. Porn. We all want the same thing—to evoke emotion. We want someone to feel what we put on-screen.”
I threaded my fingers through my hair, pulling it back. My forehead was sweaty, the glaring lights at the front of the classroom didn’t help my nervousness.
“I already know what you’re thinking. Easy. Penis plus vagina plus thrust equals feeling. And yes, that’s true, but I like to think my work has a little more nuance. I don’t like close-up shots of penetration.” With a grin, I thrust my index finger through the hole I’d made with my other hand. “It’s the facial expressions, the noises, the touching, all the stuff that turns people on in real life, that’s what I love filming.”
“So girl porn?” the kid in the second row shouted out. The girl beside him smacked him with the back of her hand.
“Not showing close-ups doesn’t make something female-friendly.”
“Well, I want the close-ups.” He snickered, and I saw a few other male heads bob in agreement.
“To each his own, which is why White Lace has several different lines, catering to all tastes. I’m lucky that I only have to film what I like. I get to stick to my vision. Which is the whole point of directing. You have a script or an idea for a scene and you need to get your actors to make that vision come alive.”
If Cory learned nothing from me, I hoped he at least took that to heart.
“I still get anxiety every time one of my scenes is published online. I still get nervous every time I call ‘action.’ Because it’s natural. I might talk a good game, but I’m just as scared about being criticized. When you work in a creative field, whether it’s film, or writing, or singing, or acting, the same rules apply. You pour a bit of your soul into every project, whether you want to or not. And I know it’s a little hard to believe, considering I film porn for a living, but it’s not. The only difference between a sex scene in a romantic comedy and one in porn is that you see the actual sex in porn. It’s still intimate.”
That might be a stretch, but I believed it. And so did that journalist.
