Alyx In Wonderland Chapter 2 free porn video

Thanks for the comments everyone, keep them coming. Chapter 2 Ever tried running in a skirt? Don't criticize until you have. I was late. We were supposed to be at the studio by 6 am. I'd said I'd meet Chloe at the station at five. It was quarter past already. At least I'd gone with my trainers. Imagine if I'd gone with the heeled boots. As I rounded the corner I saw Chloe. She smiled and waved, her coat pulled tightly around her. "When will Spring be sprung?" She hugged me. "You OK honey?" I nodded my head then bit my lip. "Sorry I'm soooo late. I'm still getting the hang of makeup. I made a total mess and Becca had to help me." Chloe laughed. "You know they're only going to wipe it all off and start again as soon as we get there?" We got there just after 6 am. I was practically hyperventilating but no one said anything. "Impressive isn't it?" Chloe took my arm. "You won't find a better sound stage in New York. It's bankrolled by police procedurals and this type of commercial work. Still, at least that means they've got the tools to do the better stuff when it comes along." After that, she dropped me off in makeup. A woman plopped me down in a chair with a piece of paper saying 'daughter' taped to it. Then she left me, rushing off to attend to someone else I couldn't see. "Hey," the woman next to me called out, nearly making me jump. "Sorry honey, didn't mean to startle you." It took me a moment to recognise Mars, the woman from the audition. "Mars, right? Lovely to see you again." I remembered how nice she'd been. At least compared to the others and their death stares. "I thought you might make it through." She examined her hair in the mirror. "No one spent longer in there than you did." She turned to look at herself at a different angle. I remembered she'd said she thought that, at 28 she was too old for the role. "You got it then? What are we sisters?" Mars handed me a piece of paper, just like the one that had been stuck to the back of my chair. It read 'mother'. "Shit, no!" I actually clasped my hand over my mouth in surprise. "You're supposed to be my mother? No one will believe that." We looked at each other in the mirror and smiled. "Welcome to show business. Wanna guess how old the schmuck who died and left us broke is?" It took me a second to realize what she meant, but then I shook my head, not knowing where to start. "Forty two." "Bollocks!" I didn't know what made her laugh more, my Britishness or naivete. Looking back at the mirror, I saw the star brooch on my chest. I hoped we could get Mars to sign a release form when the time came. Makeup was surprisingly quick. I'd expected to be there for hours. In the end, the woman took a little under an hour and couldn't stop saying what great skin I had. At first I took it as a compliment but, as she kept repeating it, I began to find it threatening. Like she was going to keep me in a pit in her living room and get me to rub lotion into my skin. In the end, I was glad to get out of there. Next was costume. It was in one of those movable boxes they use as offices on construction sites. I went in and the costume designer looked at me. "Here," she said, handing me a sweater, robin's egg blue ('goes with your eyes') and a short black skirt, and sent me to try them on. I sighed. Becca and the world seemed to be conspiring to never let me wear anything else. When I came back, she looked me over and called over Razor, "What do you think? Leggings or no?" He looked me up and down and I felt uncomfortable. He smiled and said, "Her daddy died. Leggings," as if that explained it. After we were ready, a woman with a clipboard took us over to the set. I stood close to Mars and tried to avoid the stares of the guy playing my dad. I vaguely recognised him and assumed he must have been in something I'd seen. In addition to us three, there was a boy, about twelve or thirteen. I assumed was playing my brother. I hadn't seen him in makeup. We waited for a further fifteen minutes before the clipboard woman brought a man over. He was somewhere in his late thirties, maybe his forties but hiding it. He wore a red Hawaiian shirt and a baseball cap that didn't quite disguise the signs his hair was receding. When he smiled you could see capped teeth. "Hey guys, I just wanted to say hi." He looked over at the guy. "Jimmy, good to see you man!" He took the actor playing my dad's hand and shook it vigorously, slapping him on the shoulder. The two men talked, mainly about the Knicks, as if the rest of us weren't here. The boy just stared at the game on his phone while Mars and I exchanged glances. After another ten minutes, the woman with the clipboard gave a discreet cough. "What? Oh yeah, of course. I'm Razor, your director." It was like he saw the rest of us for the first time. "What happened to Carla?" Mars asked what I'd been thinking. "Sure, sure." He bobbed his head up and down as if taking part in some unheard conversation. "Some ad agency shit. She got bumped. Politics man, know what I mean? You'll be fine. OK, everyone, this'll be an easy shoot. No tricks. Just look into the lens and read your lines, which I know you memorized." I gave an involuntary gulp. I'd made Becca go through the scripts with me time and time over the weekend. So much so she'd threatened to lock me in the cupboard if she heard me say 'my daddy cared' once more. I realised he was looking at me. "Er, sorry." His smile reminded me of a nature documentary I once seen of a shark eying up a seal stranded on a lonely, and melting, iceberg. "Hey, teen queen," shit, he was the guy in the baseball cap, the one who tipped at the party. Now I knew where I'd seen 'daddy' before, they were standing in the line together outside the club where I'd been carded, "there's always the teleprompter if you get lost. But, you know how to act. Right?" I just nodded my head, too terrified to talk. Razor went into detail about what he wanted from each of us. He made Mars squirm when he told her she was a Milf type. "Guys have to want to fuck you. Poor widow. Left all alone in the big bad world. But there's something more, know what I mean?" When he finished, he said. "Right let's get the grownups first." He looked at the lady with the clipboard. "Put these two somewhere." "Hey," I protested, "I'm eighteen." I knew it sounded lame as it came out of my mouth. "Not according to that bouncer." Razor joked. That got a smile from my 'dad'. Clipboard woman led us over to some seats and a little table. To my embarrassment, there was an Xbox hooked up to the little screen on the table. Clearly the 'kids' table. I slumped down on the chair and took out my phone. This was good footage, but it was incredibly embarrassing. I figured I'd just pretend to be having a really interesting text conversation for the next six to eight hours. "Hey, do you want to play? They've got some good games." The boy looked at me. "No!" I felt bad immediately. He looked hurt. "Whatever," he said, loading up a single player game and ignoring me. "Excuse me." A woman came over. "I'm from SAG. I've got some forms for you to fill out for your union card." "Sure," Well, at least this was something. I had yet to get the card as boy Alex. I filled it out as best I could. I put in my real name but kept the shortened version of my first name. I only actually had to lie in two places. My age, which I figured every actor lied about at some point and of course my gender. I was hoping, when all this was over I could claim it had been a typo or something and still keep the card. "I need to see some ID." She said, almost apologetically. "I've got my driver's license and social security card." "Perfect!" She took them and put them on the table a little way away from the Xbox, then took a picture of them on her phone. I started to panic a little. I finally had my work visa and didn't want to jeopardise it. "You going to run a background check on me?" The woman laughed. "We're not Homeland Security. These are just for our files." She picked up my driver's license. "Anyway, who gets a fake id that says they're under 21?" I hoped she didn't notice my wince. I reminded myself to tell Becca she said that. After she'd gone, I looked over at the boy. I hadn't seen any sign of his mother or other guardian. "Hey," I said. "Huh?" He didn't look away from the screen. "Is that Fortnite?" "Yeah." He shrugged. "Want me to hand you your arse at it?" In the reflection of the screen, I could see he was smiling. He passed me the controller. "I think you have that backwards. I'll be handing you your ass." He went a little red around the ears when he said 'ass'. And he was right. Five times in a row. Around game four, I thought I'd got the hang of it only in game five to realise he'd been holding back. As I threw down the controller in disgust at myself, he looked up and laughed. "Noah." He said. "Alex." I could hear the pout in my voice. I may even have folded my arms. Drawn by my display of petulance, some of the crew turned towards us. They must have thought I was the dumb kid, not Noah. The day was a long one. The Noah's mother came over around one and took us to the lunch table. When we were in the line, she ignored her son and talked to some guy I didn't know from the agency. I noticed the Noah's shoulders slumping and a dark mood passing across his face, so I talked to him about Minecraft and some of the latest releases. I'd just got my food when I felt a hand on the small of my back. "Hey teen queen. Can we talk?" It was Razor. "Sure." I tried to sound perky, hating myself as I did. He took me to one side. I stood uneasily wishing I could put my food down somewhere. "You two are hitting it off." He nodded towards Noah, who was now sulking at a table next to his mum and the ad guy. "Yeah, he's alright," I felt the need to add something, "For a kid." I winced at my selling my new friend out. "Sure, sure. You know the dirty little fucker was just staring at your tits?" I didn't know what to say. I suppose part of me had been aware of the odd glances he'd shoot my way. I mean, I'd been a teenage boy so I knew how it was. But I didn't think it was that bad. He'd even been sweet in his own way. Before I could form a comeback Razor pushed on. "Ten minutes then you're on. Don't get any food and shit on your clothes." He signalled to the woman from makeup who came over with a smock-like thing. Like what the old women wore while getting their haircut back in my village. My shoot went surprisingly well. Razor's direction was sharp, straight to the point and actually helpful. 'Don't look down then up. That's soap opera shit,' - things like that. After it was finished, I spotted Mars in a corner, next to a woman smoking. I decided to chance it. "How was I?" Needy? I didn't care. "Great," Mars said with just enough conviction to stop me going into a downward spiral. "You've got something." The smoking woman took a long drag on her cigarette. "Monica," she extended her hand. At first I thought she was going to shake mine, then she gave me her card. "I'm with CBA." I shrugged. I had never heard of them. "But I used to be with WME. Anyway, you want work, call me. I can get you plenty." "Wow, thanks." All those days hitting the streets with my headshots, photocopied copies of my CV and a link to a hastily constructed website. I thought of the bunions on my feet from those damn shoes Becca got me. And now this? It didn't seem real. "Er, I think I have a pen..." I started to panic, my bag was back in makeup. Monica held a hand up. "I've already got your details from Mars. I'll be in touch." Then she turned and left. I looked up at Mars who shrugged. "She's a total bitch," she paused, seeming to think it over, "but she'll be your bitch." We wrapped at nine, three hours later than scheduled. Mars told me that it still counted as an early night. "Say what you want about Razor," and she smiled, "but he runs a tight ship." At that stage I didn't care. All I knew was that I was late for our dinner date and Becca hadn't responded to my texts. It was after ten by the time I reached the restaurant. I'd received only one text from Becca, saying that she'd arrived and she'd wait for me to order. The waitress took my coat and walked me over to the table. I was surprised to see two women, by my guess in their 30s, sitting with Becca. "Hi" I said, looking at Becca for any signs I was in trouble. I did a double take. When I left in the morning, she was still waking up so I hadn't seen her outfit - a blue button down shirt over a white t shirt. Loose-fitting jeans. And boots. Like one of the two women. I went to apologize but before I could, Becca got up, threw her arms around me and gave me a big kiss, "Hey beautiful." There were cocktails in front of the three of them and, based on the taste of Becca's kiss, it wasn't her first. "Hi, Bec," I said, trying to maneuver to the table. But she held my arms to my side, lifted me slightly and kissed me again. "I guess you're not upset," which made the three of them laugh. "Hi," I said, trying to introduce myself while Becca kept kissing me. I couldn't help but laugh at her over the top sign of affection. To think I'd been worried. Becca made the introductions, her arms still around me. "Alyx, this is Rachel from work and her wife Trish." They didn't seemed too embarrassed by her actions and smiled at us indulgently. As I sat down, Becca admonished me for being late. "Sorry," I said, "I didn't realise we were having company. Getting here was murder." The woman with the long dark hair, that Becca had introduced as Rachel, spoke. "Don't worry about us. We've been having fun." The three of them exchanged glances that made me nervous. Becca almost bounced. "We've been celebrating!" The other woman, Trish, looked at me wearily. "Media types." Becca put a defensive arm around my neck. "Actually Trish, my little bunny is an actress." She pulled me into her and kissed the side of my head. "Bunny?" I asked, as nicely as I could. Without letting me go (how much had she had?) she answered. "Because you wiggle your nose." Then she touched my nose. "Boop." "Sorry Alyx," Trish cut in, laughing. "I'm afraid we didn't know how much of a light weight your girlfriend is." Becca finally let go of me. "How much have you let her have?" I laughed. "Too much!" Rachel said, but she was smiling. "You going to tell her?" "Tell me what?" Becca took my hand as I looked between the three of them. "Rachel got the green light..." She began. "We got the green light." Rachel cut in. "We got the greenlight for our new documentary. I'm going to be assistant director!" "Assistant to the director," Rachel cut in again, laughing. "That is amazing! Congratulations." I kissed Becca. "I am so proud of you!" And I was. And happy. But, I was also dead tired. It had been a fourteen or fifteen hour day and I was hoping we would just have a quick dinner. Honestly, had Becca cancelled, that would have been even better. My heart was sinking at the thought it was going to be a long night of celebration as well. Trish waved at the waitress, pointed at the drinks and held up four fingers. The waitress smiled and came over. "Excuse me, miss," she said to me. "I hate to do this, but can I see some id?" Trish laughed, "God, it's been a while since anyone asked me." She looked good to me. I fumbled in my purse and then asked her to lean down. "Don't worry about it. Just bring me a Diet Coke," I whispered. The other three were too happy and drunk to notice. The waitress smiled at me and nodded. She went off and brought back 'margaritas for you three' and, and she winked at me, 'rum and coke for the newest member of the group.' As the night sped up I found myself talking to Trish a lot. She was nice. Rachel and Becca were as thick as thieves. I caught snippets of what they were talking about. The documentary was going to look at women who are full time caregivers. If they'd asked me, I could have pointed them in the direction of a few good articles from back home. It'd been a big issue there since austerity. I faked being tipsy for the sake of the evening but, by the time we ate, I was ready to fall asleep in my food. Becca leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Do you need a pick-me-up?" It took me a second. "Wait...do you mean?" She nodded and grinned. Ah, now that explained a few things. "C'mon Bec. Really?" "Rachel has some." It was only then I noticed Rachel was passing something under the table to her. She took me by the hand and led me into the women's toilets, then pulled me into a cubicle. I stood their nervously as she laid out two lines on the toilet lid. "How much have you had?" I kept shifting my weight from one foot to another. "Please tell me this is just your second." "Uh huh," she replied unconvincingly. I snorted mine first. Fuck it, it was the only way I'd survive. I just hoped Becca wasn't far off a crash. Then Becca took hers. When she finished, I turned to open the cubicle door. But she grabbed my hand, spinning me around and pushing me up against the wall, hands held above my head. "You are so gorgeous, bunny," she whispered. I could tell she was getting the first rush. Almost hear her heart beating faster. "You are so beautiful," she said, putting her hand under my skirt, pushing it up. "And you are so fucked up," I said, laughing. She just looked at me and smiled at me, like a strange creature she'd just pulled from the sea. "Yup. But I am so lucky to have you. I don't know anyone else like you." Then she kissed me, hard, pushing my skirt up further. Then, she pulled down her pants, pushed my head down and just smiled at me. We held hands as we walked back to the table. Me behind her, almost being dragged. Both Trish and Rachel looked happy to see us. Rachel stood up, "Who's up for dancing?" I sighed. Looking at Becca's pleading expression I knew there was no arguing. Becca It is weird to watch your boyfriend get ready for his waitressing job. Really weird. And kinda hot. Which is really weird on its own. It was Friday night, a week after Alex had filmed the commercial, which hadn't aired yet. Chloe promised that she would tell us when it was and we'd have a party for Alex. I was sitting on the bed, while Alex ran about getting ready. "I don't understand why you're doing this," I said. OK, whined. "You got the commercial. You don't need to do this. You hated it last time." Alex had taken another job with EnHerGy, this time a party for some hedge fund. To celebrate a new fund that raised hundreds of millions, I'm sure. My friend Mike from Northwestern had a job at one of these funds. He teased me that, "You're just pissed because you don't know what I do. Or even if I'm good at it. But, I make a shitload." Normally, I'd consider that a real douchebro move, but I knew Mike. He was a good guy, friendly. We had slept together after we beat Wisconsin. It was fine. We both woke up the next day, looked at each other and said, "OK, then." Then we had breakfast. Alex sat down next me on the bed, in just his gaff and panties, and opened a package of fishnets. I looked at him and he said, "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" "Where did you get those?" He smiled. "Oh, these? The other ones had a run so I picked these up last week, after my meeting with Monica." Oh. He rolled them up his legs and went to his drawer. He pulled out a black lace bra and put it on. I got up and grabbed him by the waist. I kissed him on the neck, which he loved. "You are getting me so hot," I said. "C'mon, blow off the job and stay with me." He turned around and smiled, his eyes lowered, "I would love to, but I, we need the money. You know how well this pays...." I held him by the waist and looked into those gorgeous blue eyes. "You got the commercial. And Monica said she could get you a lot of work." He moved my hands and walked to the closet. "Well, saying and getting are two different things." He reached into the closet and pulled out two dresses - a short sleeveless one with a high neck and a slightly longer one with spaghetti straps. He held them to himself and said, "So, which one?" I smiled. I had worn a dress just like the second one to my prom. I could see either one. The first would make him look incredibly sexy, mature. On the other second, in the second, you could see his tits. My boyfriend's tits. Which would get him the tips he wanted. "Go, with the second. Definitely, the second." He smiled and slid it up like he had been doing it his whole life. God, he looked so sexy. He turned around, "Zip me, please." I took the opportunity to kiss his neck again, my hands around his waist. "Please, Bec, not now. I have to get ready," he moaned. He went over to my dresser and started putting on makeup. I watched him slowly turn the lipstick tube and apply it to his lips. Then, eyeliner, mascara and blush. The efforts so fluid, so natural. He put on a pair of clip on earrings, little flowers. I had been on him to get them pierced. He brushed his hair and turned around, "so, how do I look?" He looked, in a word, gorgeous. Sexy. Beautiful. My beautiful Alex. "Phenomenal." "Really?" "Yes, really. You're going to clean up tonight." I hated the idea of all of those guys looking my Alex up and down, like a piece of meat. He smiled, and those blue eyes lit up. "Here's hoping," he said, going into the closet and pulling out a pair of black sandals with a 3" heel. "Here they are," he said, putting them in his purse. Which made me laugh a little. "Aren't you wearing them?" He turned back to the mirror, examining himself more closely. "I'm wearing flats until I get there. Then, I'll put on my heels. That's what everyone does." Oh, everyone. I laughed, "Excuse me for not knowing." "Where's the camera?" He was looking all over. "Camera?" "Hello?" He said, shaking his head, his blonde hair bouncing around. "The star camera? For the project? You don't want footage?" I had forgotten about the camera. I shook my head, "Sorry, I was just...thinking. I was charging it over by the computer." I walked over and got it, then pinned it right in the center of his cleavage. I stuck my finger in and went, "Tickle tickle," with a smile. He smiled, his lips red from the lipstick. "Hands off the merchandise, Bec. You know I can't be late. Brunhilde will have my head." We had named the woman that scared him so much the first night, although she loved him. Everytime she called, she made sure to call him, 'her little superstar' and tell him how much 'enhergy' he had. "Do you want me to come with you?" I said. He looked surprised. "Why?" I gave him a hurt look, so he said, "I mean you can, if you want. I just wondered why you wanted to?" I remembered the first night, the catcalls and the guy blocking her way. "I just wanted to make sure you're safe." He looked at me. "I mean, I think sometimes you forget how young and sexy you look." He smiled again. If he didn't stop that, I was going to throw him down on the bed. "My big strong Bec," he laughed. "Sure, come along." I grabbed my jacket and we walked to the train, everyone looking at us, like they couldn't decide if Alex was overdressed or I was under. We held hands and an older woman gave us a dirty look. Homophobic bitch. The party was at Cipriani on 42nd. It used to be a bank, 'a real bank' as my father joked when he had taken me to a party there when I was in film school. It had high ceilings and marble floors. That wasn't where we went in though. The door guard looked Alex up and down and said, with a leer, 'service is on 41st.' Then, he looked at me, in my jeans, t shirt and wool coat, grinned and held out his fist for a bump. I walked around to the other side of the building with Alex and a tall African American woman in a black dress saw us and smiled. "Hey, Allie," she said. Allie? "Hey, Katie," Alex said, giving her a hug and kiss. "I was hoping you'd be here. Do you feel actualized yet?" The woman laughed, and then looked at me, "Inside joke. Hi, I'm Katie," she said, offering her hand. Alex said, "Oh, I am so sorry. Katie Rogers, this is my girlfriend Becca Scott. Becca, this is Katie. These jobs are always SO much better when Katie's around." "You know I feel the same way, Allie. We're a team," she said. Then, she looked at me, "you have no idea how popular your girlfriend is. Everybody loves her." I knew. I saw the footage. Alex took her heels out of her pocketbook and put them on. She smiled at Katie, "Wouldn't want to get in trouble." Katie laughed and said, "I never expected you here again. I thought you said you got a commercial." "I did," Alex laughed, her hair falling in front of her face a little. "But, they haven't paid me yet and it hasn't aired. So here I am." Just then, one of the guards came out. "Sorry, ladies. But you know who, and you didn't hear that, is getting ready for inspection." Alex smiled at him, and he smiled back. "I know, Mike. I'll text when I'm done, Bec," he said, over his shoulder. Mike looked at Alex's ass, then me. "Don't worry. She'll be safe. We'll keep an eye on her." I stuck my hand out and he shook it, forcefully. "Um, thanks." The door slammed and I stood there for a while, looking at it. I could see my reflection in the glass. 'Whatever,' I thought. I texted Chloe, 'up 4 a drink?' 'Sure. Where? Alex coming?' 'Working :-( Party at Cipriani's on 42.' 'Bookmarks at Morgan?' Bookmarks was the rooftop bar at the Morgan Hotel. Very nice. Very classy, modern vibe. And I was not dressed for it. "Kinda underdressed. Annie Moore's on 41 bet Mad and 5?' 'Sure :-). Mind if Tom tags along?' 'No. Not at all.' I liked Tom. You could always count on him for an inappropriate comment. 'Great. See you in 30 [heart emoji].' I had time to kill, so I went into Grand Central and sat on the steps of the Apple Store. I looked up at the mural on the ceiling, of the constellations. When we came to New York when I was little, my father told us how it was backwards, how it was the view looking down from the heavens. Then, I watched the people come and go, meeting at the clock in the middle and kissing. I watched the train board change, as trains left and new departures went up. An older woman leaned on the railing next to me and said, "I miss the old board." I snapped out of my head. "Sorry? I was spacing." She smiled at me. She was about 45, with short brown hair. She was wearing business clothes, a black suit with a white button down shirt (my mother would have called it a blouse, but she was the only one who still did). "No worries," she had a slight Australian accent. "I was just saying I miss the old board. When I first moved here, it was mechanical. When it changed, it flickered and made a clacking sound that echoed if you stood in the right place." She looked around. "Of course, this place was a dump then. So, I guess it's a fair trade off." She put out her hand. "I'm Belinda," she said, smiling. "Becca. Rebecca. But, everyone calls me Becca." "Well, Rebecca. Nice to meet you. What brings you to the steps on a Friday night?" I smiled and said, "Don't you know? This is the place to be." "I think so. But, seriously, what brings you here? Waiting for a train?" I said, "No. I just dropped my b..girlfriend at work and I'm waiting to meet a friend for a drink over on 41st." She smiled and said, "Your girlfriend's a lucky girl. Well," and she picked up her briefcase and looked at the board, "enjoy your drink. They just put my train up. Very nice meeting you." "Uh, you too." I sat for another couple of minutes and went over to meet Chloe and Tom. I sat at the bar, ordered a glass of red and waited for Chloe and Tom, watching the people. A couple came in, obviously from work. She was small and blonde, and was wearing a blue v neck dress, the color slightly darker than Alex's eyes. He was wearing a blue suit and a white open necked shirt, clearly having just taken off his tie. I watched the way he held his hand around her waist and led her to the table, the way she looked up at him. I felt a tap on my shoulder, "She is not sleeping with him tonight..." "Huh?" I turned around it was Tom. I got up and gave him a kiss. "Oh, hey, Tom. Where's Chlo?" "Ah, she got stuck on a call with Japan. She'll try and make it over if she can. You want to reschedule?" I patted the stool next to mine. "Nah, we're both here. You came all the way over. What are you drinking?" He looked at the taps and said to the bartender. "Smithwicks, please." I looked at him. He was wearing a t shirt and jeans too, although somehow it looked less out of place on him. "So, how come you're here?" "Nice to see you too. Alex is working tonight. At Cipriani's." "Another EnHERgy deal?" EnHerGy had become a running joke among the four of us. Any word with -er was fair game. The female lead in 'Harry Potter' was not Hermoine but HERmoine. Tom, imitating the end of a mystery, would say, ''And the murdHERer is.' OK, you had to be there, I guess. "Yeah," I said. "I don't feel comfortable with her going on the train alone. Not dressed like that." Tom gave me a look that I couldn't place. "It's fucked up. He looks really good. And really young. So, it's good you went. Anyway, Chloe said the agent said that she's going to get him a lot of work, so maybe he can stop." "Here's hoping," I said, clicking my glass to his. "Cheers." "Chloe said he looked really," and his face twisted a little, "adorable at the shoot. Said he can really act. She even made me get insurance so the kids we're not having won't be left flat like Alex." I smiled. "That's quite a compliment coming from Chloe. I can't believe she had a call now." "Eh, Japan. What can you do? You and me. Work widowers. So, what did he have to wear this time?" "This cute black dress. A couple of inches above the knee. Spaghetti straps. Fishnets..." "He likes his fishnets, doesn't he? Chloe said he bought a pair when they went to lunch the other day." "They went to lunch?" He looked mortified. "You didn't know? Shit. Please don't tell Chloe I told you..." I was pissed. No one told me. Or invited me. Not that I could have gone. I was off in the swamps of Jersey filming a commercial. But still. I looked at him and took another sip. "Of course not." "C'mon Bec. She said they met outside his agent's office. And went for like Pret. No big deal." I laughed. "That's it. They're having an affair." Tom looked at me, that same unplaceable look. "Somehow, I just don't see it." He looked over at another couple, a little brunette, brown eyes wearing a short red dress and her date. He was about 20 pounds too heavy with one eyebrow. "So these two," he said, subtly nodding his head at them. "What gives?" "Hmmm. It's a setup..." "Their moms are friends...." The woman was doing all the talking. "His mom said she was really cute..." She was, in that way that little dark haired girls could be. "Her mom said he was a great guy. Also known as he has one eyebrow." Tom laughed. "Well, his said she had a bubbly personality. Meaning she doesn't shut up." We looked at them. "And that is some truth in advertising. You know the only thing he's thinking is..." "Am I going to get laid?" Tom laughed, "Isn't that the only question?" He called over the bartender. "Another Smithwicks. Another glass of wine?" "Nah. I'll take a Dog's Head IPA." "That any good?" Tom asked. I nodded. "Give me one of those." The bartender brought them over and he took a sip, "this is actually pretty good. Since when do you drink these?" "We were out with Rachel and Trish and Rachel turned me on to it." "Who's Rachel? Who's Trish?" "My boss. And her wife." He smiled, "so you and Rachel and Trish and Alex? What's Alex doing while all this is going on?" "I dunno. Talking to Trish. Drinking diet Cokes and pretending they're rum and Coke." He thought I hadn't noticed. I knew he couldn't drink, not when we were out. I didn't care. He was a more fun drunk when he wasn't than when he was. "That's gotta suck," Tom said. "Eh, what can you do? So, back to this lunch..." "Ah, come on, Rach. Don't be such a girl. He must've told her he had this job tonight, so they went to the store. So, what was he wearing?" I paused, wondering what to say. "I told you, this cute black dress. And 3" heels." I thought about how sexy she looked. "Damn..." "What?" I said, drinking my beer. "You're into this." I felt my face flush. "It's for the project," I mumbled, not really convincing myself. I kept picturing Alex in her bra and panties. "Sure." I looked at my beer, then at the couple. "Zero." "What?" "There is zero chance he is getting shit tonight." He looked at them, then a sing-song voice said, "I had a really nice time..." "Um, I'm really busy this week," I said, flipping my hair. Then, we switched to work. "That's great," he said, when I told him about Rachel and the project. "It really is. We came up with it when we were doing the anti-smoking ad. I can't believe I'm going to be the assistant director. I mean, she calls me assistant to the director. But we've been storyboarding and she's been totally listening to me. This could be huge. We were at dinner the other night and Trish..." He smiled, "Oh, yeah, Rachel's wife," he said, with a slight emphasis on 'Rachel.' I looked at him. "Yeah. So, anyway, we're talking about it and Trish, she's a pediatrician, was telling us about how all these women are basically unpaid labor. I saw it with Mrs. Ianuzzi, the smoking lady, but I never thought about it all that much..." "Yeah, I remember when my great-grandma was sick, my mom and my grandma basically had to drop everything and take her to all her doctors and all that." "Oh." I hadn't thought much about it. My grandmother lived in Detroit, where my dad was from. We saw her a couple of times a year, when we flew east. And my mom's mom was fine, thankfully. "I'd love to meet with them sometime, to talk about it. Film them, if they're willing." Tom said, "They'd like that. Yeah. My mom says everyone asked how they could help, but they didn't really mean it. This sounds like a really cool project, Becs. Good job," and he held up his glass. About half an hour later, he looked at his phone. "She's off the call." I had totally forgotten about Chloe, to be honest. "I gotta go. If I play my cards right, I won't end up like unibrow." I laughed and walked to the train. I walked past Cipriani's and thought about adorable Alex looked in her little black dress and heels. Hey, why should I be the only not getting any tonight? I went home, poured myself a glass of wine and watched 'Better Call Saul' on Netflix. About 1 AM, Alex came in. I saw the heel of her shoe sticking up from her bag. She still looked good. I met her at the door and grabbed her waist. "Hey, gorgeous," I said, kissing her. "Hey," she said. "Let me go to the bedroom and change. It was a shitty night." I followed her in, and watched her take off the dress, letting the straps drop off first, and hang it up. Then, she carefully took off the stockings ('I don't want another run'), which was incredibly sexy. She was in her bra and panties, and went to take off her makeup. "Can you leave it on, please?" "What?" She said. I should've noticed the irritation, but didn't. She looked so good. "Can you leave it on for a little while? What's the big deal?" "The big deal is I had a really shitty night," she said, heading into the bathroom. I could hear her peeing. "What happened?" From behind the door, "To start, Brunhilde made me take off the pin. Said it was distracting. When I told her it was my signature, she said hers was on the check, so I had a choice to make. But not really. So I took it off." "So?" She came out and sat down. "So, I didn't get any footage." Oh. Oh, yeah. "So, anyway, there was a lot to film tonight. The whole night, these assholes kept 'slipping.' 'Oops, did my hand touch your breast?' Oops, did I accidentally brush against your ass? The worst part was," and she started to tear up. "What happened, Alex?" I moved around, so I was behind her. I put my hands around her waist, then moved them to her thighs. I could smell her soap. Whenever she worked, she'd shower with this lavender soap from England. I leaned forward, to rest my head on her shoulder. "This...this one guy...he kept asking for me. I switched stations with Katie and he switched..." "What did he do?" I said, furtively sniffing her neck. "I can deal with the brushes and the ass pinching. I hate it, but I can deal. I guess, I have to. For now. But, he was worse. He was, I don't know, groping me. He cupped my boob, thank god he was too drunk to notice, more than once. He kept putting his hands on my waist. I was walking past one time and he almost pulled me down onto his lap. Thank god Mike was there." "DId they throw him out?" She looked at me like I was an idiot. "No. He's a customer. What am I? Just a waitress. There's another one behind me." Then, she really started to cry. I started rubbing her shoulders and she leaned forward, still crying. "What happened, Allie?" She didn't respond to that. "Anyway, I took my five minutes, and was coming out and he pinned me against the wall. And he was about to shove his tongue down my throat. Thank god, one of the other girls came by and tapped him on the shoulder..." I was angry now. "That's it. You can't do that anymore." She looked at me, tears brimming and mascara running. "I can't do what?" "I don't care how much they pay you. I'm not letting you work there anymore. This is not OK. I'm calling someone." She gave a smile and a quick snort. "Who exactly are you calling, Bec?" "I don't know. A reporter. A lawyer. Someone." "Yeah, and then what? Do you think that's going to stop this? Seriously?" She got up and walked to the dresser and started taking off her makeup. She turned to me and said, with a sneer, "Sorry, Becca. I'm taking it off. I'm tired and I want to go to bed." "I'm serious. No amount of money is worth going through that." She looked at me. "I made $600 tonight. Between that and the commercial, that'll cover my share of our living expenses for a few weeks." "Fine. But no more. I don't care. I'll cover you between jobs. But, you can do this," I half demanded and half pleaded. She came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "That's a very generous offer, Becca, but no. I can take care of myself." "I know you can, but not if it means doing this again." She looked at me with a strange look and shook her head. Then, she turned around and offered her shoulders to me. "How about you give me another back rub and we talk about this some other time? OK?" I started rubbing her shoulders. "Oh god, Becs. That feels so good. I so need this." I leaned forward and took a deep sniff. "God, you smell so amazing. Even after a long night, you still smell so amazing." I started nibbling on her ear and then kissing her neck. "Bec, stop," she moaned. I kept going. "No, I'm serious, Bec. I just want a back rub. I'm tired and I've had a shitty night and just want to relax." "Me too," I said. "I've had a long day too." She pulled away. "No. Not tonight, Becca. Please. After everything I've been through, I just want a back rub." I tried giving her my best pleading look, the one that usually got me my way. Tonight, it didn't. She got up. "You know what? I think I'll just take a hot shower. Thanks, Becca. Thanks a lot," she said, taking off her bra and panties. While she was in the shower, I laid there, staring at the ceiling. I tried thinking about who to call. This was not acceptable. They couldn't treat her, anyone like this. Maybe Rachel knew someone. Or Trish. I'm sure my dad did, but I didn't want to call him yet. But, I needed to take care of her. She came out and put on a t shirt and underwear. "Good night, Bec," she said, giving me a perfunctory kiss. "Good night, Alex. I didn't mean..." But then all I heard was gentle snoring. Becca Tonight was Alex's big night - his commercial was premiering nationally. On "This is Us." This was huge. I was on a shoot earlier and reminded Rachel and John to watch. They both laughed. John said, "I'd be watching regardless. Debbie is obsessed with that show." Rachel smiled, "Trish DVRs every episode, just in case. But, she said to tell Alyx she's not even going to skip the ads." We had gone out a couple of times with them, and Alex and Trish seemed to hit it off. Trish was always asking him about acting and he seemed really interested in pediatrics, asking her about cases and treatments. I'd look at him talking to her, his big blue eyes wide open, taking in every word. I'd thought he might have even mentioned his illness once or twice, which he never did with anyone else. We were finishing up a shoot for a training video, to be shown at a software company's national meeting when Rachel came up to me. "Hey, Becs, got a second?" She had a look of concern in her eye. "Everything OK? Is something up?" I hoped that she wasn't going to tell me that the funding had been pulled. She smiled, "Everything is fine. And to answer the question you're not asking, yes, everything is fine with the movie. He hasn't pulled our funding." A wealthy investor, who had made his money in industrial electrical equipment, was backing us. He said that his mother had 'taken ten years off her life caring for her mother. And my father's mother. And no one said thanks. This is my thanks.' Which was cheesy but sincere. Sincerely cheesy. "Actually, Louise was talking to me about you." Oh shit. Louise had no reason to know who I was. This was not going to be good. She put her arm around me, "It's good. For you." "Huh?" She smiled, "She's noticed your work lately. And she wants to put you to work on the second unit stuff on Baumbach." I smiled, "Seriously? We're going to be working on Baumbach?" I was going to be working on a movie. A real movie that people would see. A film my parents could tell their friends about, point out the scenes I worked on. Her smile got a little tighter, then opened up. "Not me. You. She's noticed you around and thinks you have potential." "But what about?" "Becs, we're in pre-production. Don't worry. This is a two week job. We'll be fine. Are you ready to work weekends with me?" I smiled, "Of course." Inside, I was jumping up and down. "Alyx will be OK with that?" I smiled, "Of course, h-she will. Why wouldn't she? Are you sure you and John will be OK without me?" The minute I said, I realized how stupid, arrogant that sounded. She shouted to John, who was loading the truck, "Think we'll survive for two weeks without Becca?" John yelled back. "Oh no! Whoever will make me drag the heavy cases? And tell me I shouldn't smoke?" I deserved that. She smiled, "Yes. It's fine. Go home and celebrate. You two have a lot to celebrate tonight." I went home and Alex was waiting. He had dressed down, in a t shirt and jeans. No makeup. He had even bound down his breast forms. "Hey, Becca," he said. "Are you excited?" "I can't wait. 9:26!" Chloe had found out from the ad guy exactly when the commercial was going to run. "The president better not do anything stupid to interrupt it." Alex smiled at me. Even without makeup, he looked so beautiful. "OK, nothing unusually stupid. I have some good news too!" "What?" I smiled slyly. "Maybe I should wait until Tom and Chloe get here....I mean it is big news." He started to tickle me. "Oh no, you better not," he said. "You better tell me." I started tickling him back which was completely unfair. He was much more ticklish. He squirmed and giggled, gasping. "Stop it. Stop it. Just tell me." His shirt was riding up and I could see his pale belly, the tops of his panties sticking up. I stopped. "Guess who's going to be second unit on that Noah Baumbach movie?" He smiled, pulling down his shirt. "Um, Jordan? Liam?" I moved towards him, wiggling my finger. "I'm teasing!" He gave me a big hug and kiss. "I am so proud of you! That is so amazing! What did Rachel say?" "She told me," I said, taking off my boots. "She said Louise noticed me and that this was a big step up." I saw a look in his eye. "Don't worry. She already said that the documentary is just in pre-production. We can work weekends on it. She asked if you would mind." He said, "Of course not. This is a huge deal. I'm 100% here for you." "What will you do with all that free time?" I teased. "Oh," he said, smiling flirtatiously. "I'll keep myself busy." "Oh really?" I said. "And how will you do that?" "Oh, there are ways," he said. "All kinds of ways." He was giving off an incredibly sexy vibe. Not the vibe the old Alex used to give me though. "Don't worry about me," he said, taking my hand. I looked at the clock on the wall. "Fuuuck. It's 8:15. They're coming at 8:30," I moaned. "Later, Bunny?" I wasn't sure how he'd handle that. He didn't say anything. He just leaned over and rubbed his nose on mine. Then I kissed him, feeling him bending his neck to reach up to me. After the kiss I gave him a little 'boop' on the nose. At 8:30, Tom and Chloe came over. Chloe came in and kissed us. In a mock sincere voice, she said to Alex, "I am so sorry for your loss. He was so young. How are you doing, honey?" He sniffled. "I'm fine. Thank you. My...daddy," and sobbed maybe the worst fake tears ever. Tom handed him a box. "These are for you." He opened it. It was a box of assorted Italian cookies. I looked at him, confused. He smiled, "What do YOU bring to a wake? I mean you are underage," to which Alex stuck out his tongue. Which only made him look younger. Chloe started giggling. "It was awful at the bakery. We go to the counter and Tom tells her it's for my little cousin, whose father just died. And she's only 18," to which Alex stuck out his tongue again. "And this poor woman, who's like 70, is like, 'oh, that poor girl.' And she starts adding in extra cookies. And he," and she pointed at Tom, "starts talking about how her father left them broke, without insurance..." Tom interrupted her, "And so she," and he pointed at Chloe, "starts to giggle. She's smart enough to cover her mouth, but then her body starts shaking, she's laughing so hard..." Chloe started laughing, "And he looks at me. And the woman looks at me. And I'm thinking, 'oh fuck...' and I do the only thing I can..." I laughed, "Which is?" Chloe was laughing so hard, she couldn't breathe. "Run out. And, as I'm leaving, I hear him say, 'they were very close.'" Alex smiled and joked, "Well, at least SOMEONE cared. I mean, SHE," and he looked at me, "hasn't asked me once how I was doing. My daddy," he began, sobbing again. I laughed and made a talking motion with my hand. "Blah blah daddy. Blah blah. I mean, how close were you? You saw him what, once? For one day? Get over it." Then I said, "Alex isn't the only one who had a big day. Guess who's going to be working on the new Noah Baumbach movie?" Chloe smiled, "Noah Baumbach?" I laughed, "Shut up. Idiot." She came over and gave me a huge hug. "Omigod, Becca, that is so cool." "Thanks. Can you imagine? How cool is that?" "It is amazing, Becca," Tom said, "Good job," and he gave me a hug. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alex smiling, but he looked like something was up. I decided it was nerves over his big debut. We ordered in pizza and waited for Alex's big debut. He was so nervous. He kept bouncing around and, even with them bound down, I could see his breasts bouncing around, which was making me hot. He kept looking at his phone, willing it to be 9:26. At 9:26, the commercial came on. There was my Alex, in a baby blue sweater, short black skirt and leggings, his legs curled under him. He was clutching a picture of a man and you could see the tears in his eyes. "It was awful. He and mom had had an argument that morning and then he left." And the commercial showed the parents arguing. "And now he's gone," he started to tear. Chloe smirked and handed Alex a box of tissues. "And now mom tells me that he didn't have any insurance. That we're going to have to move." I said, "your dad's dead and that's what you care about? Moving? Selfish bitch." Alex threw the tissues at my head. Then she, the 'she' on screen,' started to really tear up. "I know daddy loved us. I just don't know why he left us like this." 'Mutual Haven - for the ones you love.' We all applauded and Alex got up and bowed. 'Thank you. Thank you.' I gave him a huge hug and a deep kiss. Chloe laughed and said, "Should we leave?" Alex blushed. Then Chloe continued, "Mutual Haven - if you don't have it, you may as well feed your children poison.' Tom laughed, "Allie's dad didn't leave her any insurance. And so, next on the pole, Alyx." I topped off all our wine glasses. "To our little star, Alex." Alex smiled and flicked his hair. "I am NOT a little star." We all clicked glasses and Chloe said, "Teen queen, that was amazing." Tom and I looked at her. "Teen queen?" "That director kept calling Alex 'teen queen.' He was a such a total sleaze." Alex laughed, well giggled would be more accurate. "Oh god and him and my daddy," he practically spat my last word. "Mars, she's the actress who played my mom, even though she's 28..." Tom looked at me. "I'm 26. Jesus, do I look that old?" "Makeup," Alex said, then he continued his story. "Mars said he kept grabbing her ass when they were filming. When she slapped him, Razor..." I looked at him, "Razor? Ranalli?" Alex and Chloe looked at each other. "Yeah. Why?" "Rachel hates his guts. Calls him Crassavetes." Alex shrugged, "Oh. I didn't know. So anyway, Razor tells her 'that's great. That's what I want. That anger. You two had a fight. And now he's dead.'" Chloe said, "that explains why she looked so pissed at craft services." I looked at her. "How long did you stay on set?" She shrugged and then looked at me, with a strange look, "I dunno. Few hours. I actually had stuff to do there. You know, for my job?" Tom looked at me and held up his hand. I stopped. Chloe continued, "Did Alex tell you how much the crew loved him?" He didn't. I started to say something, but instead I put my arm around his waist. "He is lovable, isn't he? My little teen queen. I like it." He smiled, but there was something behind it. "Very funny, Becca." "One day, he's playing Barbies. And the next day, he's all grown up. Homecoming queen." Tom laughed. "What are your intentions with Alex, Miss Scott?" Chloe said, laughing, "OK you two." I smiled, "I have nothing but the basest of intentions with him," and I pinched his ass. Alex smiled, tightly, "yeah, yeah. We'll see about that. Anyway, here's to more residuals." He held up his glance then took a big gulp. "Hey, Becca, tell us all about the new job...." Alex I went into the kitchen to get ice. Tom, Chloe and Becca were switching to cocktails. I was fine with wine but wanted a break. Chloe followed me in. "You did a really great job by the way. Seriously." I smiled, "Thanks. I appreciate it." "So, if you don't me asking," she said, as she started looking in the cabinets for new glasses, "what just happened in there?" "What happened where?" I really had no idea what she was talking about. "With you. And Becca. What was up with that?" I started dumping the ice from the tray into a bowl. "Still no idea, Chloe." "Did our teasing bother you?" "No. I knew it was a joke," I said, stabbing a couple of double cubes with a fork. "So, why when Becca called you 'teen queen,' did you get so pissed?" "I wasn't pissed," I lied. She looked at me and snorted. "I'm glad you act better for pay. You were pissed." "I wasn't pissed." She started transferring ice from the bowl to the glasses. We probably could've just avoided the bowl then. "Yeah, you were. It was all over your face. Why?" I lowered my voice. "I don't know. It just bothered me. She wouldn't let it go." She rolled her eyes. "It's a joke. It was something stupid Razor said." "I know. I know. Why do you think she kept at it?" "Because she's Becca." I looked at her. "Um? Meaning?" She smiled. "It means she's Becca. You live with her." Then, she paused. "She's probably just pissed because you worked with Razor. You know how she's all team Rachel now. - 'Rachel said this.' 'Rachel said that.' 'We had dinner with Rachel and Trish.'" Oh. "So how are Rachel and Trish?" I looked out of the kitchen and saw Tom and Becca in conversation. I smiled. "They're fine." Chloe got a devilish grin. "Fine?" I smiled sweetly back. "Yes, they're fine. I like Trish a lot." She looked me up and down. "I'm glad you like Trish. We should probably bring this out there." ------- Monica was true to her word. She kept getting me more commercial work. The first was for what the agency called a 'fast casual dining experience' called 'P.J. O'Funnigans' Slogan - 'it's time to make eating Funnigan!' Chloe laughed and said, "P.J. O'Funnigan's. When you're at the mall...and your movie's in an hour...and you want something a little better than fast food....but just a little better." This time the costumer had put me in pink sleeveless top and what I now learned was a 'circle skirt,' black with pink roses on it and, thankfully, 'ballet flats.' And bare legs. I walked out and felt the crew's eyes following me. I looked around, hoping the star camera, this time on my purse strap, was catching everything. "Looking good, Alyx. OK," the director said. "Here's the deal. You two," and he pointed at me and Aron ('one A'), "are on a date. No, you're boyfriend and girlfriend. And you," and he pointed at me, "are excited because you think he's about to ask you to the prom. And how magical that is. How you're his princess." I smiled. "Got it. And he's taking me here?" Everyone laughed, even the guy from the agency. I looked at Aron and said, "I mean, I'm your princess and I'm getting," and I looked at the menu, "Deep Fried Potato Bacon Shamrocks?" My stomach turned at the thought. Aron looked at me, "Get those and you're not fitting in your dress." From his tone, I couldn't help but think maybe we should switch. The director said, "Wait, wait, let me finish. And you," and he pointed at Aron, "are thinking, OK, maybe not tonight, but definitely prom, she is going to be on her back..." My hand tightened on my purse strap, just below the star. "Anyway, so you," back to me again, "come in and smile. And you," back to Aron, "when the waitress comes over, you order for her. Which she finds incredibly hot." I imagined Tom standing off camera going, in his announcer voice, 'ordering for the date. Unless she's a mute, this is the sort of play that turns a game. And not for the better.' I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. "OK, everyone got it? Great, places. Roll sound...and....action." Basically, in the commercial, Aron and I walked in to the restaurant hand and hand, an older couple smiling and then holdings hands too. Something about young love, I guessed. We sat down at the table. "Welcome to P.J. O' Funnigan's. Where it's time to make eating Funnigan," the actress playing the waitress said. "What can I get you two?" She smiled like she had lock jaw. Aron smiled and put down the menus. "I will have the Firehouse Barbecue Rib Tips. My girlfriend," and I smiled brightly and looked at him like he just saved my puppy from a burning building, "will have the P.J.'s Special Spa Chicken Sandwich." I smiled at the waitress, "It's prom season," I said. According to the script, the announcer would then talk about the ten entrees all under 450 calories, as if that was healthy. Then Aron leaned across the table and said, "Will you go to prom with me?" I put my hands over my face, then said, "yes." Aron smiled. The other actors cheered. The actress playing the waitress said, "Welcome to P.J. O' Funnigan's. Where it's time to make eating Funnigan'" And cut. We took a lunch break and the waitress came over to me at craft services, laughing, "You're going to put out for a grilled chicken sandwich?" I laughed and said, "Hey, that's not just any chicken sandwich. It's a P.J.'s Special Spa Chicken Sandwich. And no. No I'm not." "Good, be easy. But not cheap." She put out her hand, "I'm Megan Cook." I smiled, "Alex Liddell." She looked around and pulled on the braces on her costume. She looked like a parody of a waitress. "Yup. I went to Juilliard for this." I smiled. YOU went to acting school for this? "Well, I, for one, found it completely convincing. In fact, Aron is going to leave you a big tip." She groaned. "Please, not a Firehouse Barbecue Rib Tip." "What exactly is that?" She looked at me. "They don't have them where I'm from." "Barbecue flavored gristle," she said. "I worked at a place like this in college. P.J. O'Funnigan's. Where it's time to make food poisoning fun again." We sat on two folding chairs, balancing our plates on our laps. It's no fun trying to eat with your legs clamped together, so no one can see up your skirt. -------------- Two weeks later, it was a commercial for a jewelry store chain. Monica had called me with the job. "OK, they love your reel. They say that you're exactly what they're looking for. They just want to know that you can play older." I thought for a second. I could do older. "How much older?" Monica paused, "23." I laughed, "I can do that." This time, I was the All-American girlfriend. My boyfriend and I were sitting on the couch. I was wearing a sundress, blue with a leaf pattern, knee length. He was wearing a sweater over an open collar shirt and khakis. When I sent the pictures to Becca and Chloe, Becca responded, 'yesyesyes. Ask if you can have it :-)." Chloe sent back, 'yeah, I always wear a sundress and high heeled sandals to watch Netflix :-).' "And action," the director said. Take fifteen. OK, Scorsese, I thought, let's get this done. I leaned back into my 'boyfriend's' arms. Without thinking, I started to dangle one of my sandals off my foot. "Yes," the director said, "keep doing that with the sandal. So hot." I suddenly I was wearing a pair of trainers. I leaned back and said, "What's that in your pocket?" Which made the crew giggle. Every time. My 'boyfriend' reached into his pocket and pulled out a long box and opened it. A gold necklace with a diamond pendant. This time, I cupped my hands over face and made my eyes wide. "Oh, it's so beautiful." He turned me around and put the necklace around my neck, the diamond falling into my cleavage. Every take, I felt the cameraman leering at me. Then, he turned me around and we kissed, his hands roaming my lower back and cupping my ass. I dreaded what Tom would say. Then, the voice over, "Because she deserves the best. Star Jewelry." Tom's comment - 'in the mall. Just down from the Orange Julius.' Becca He looked so cute. Alex was wearing a long t-shirt over leggings, light makeup - the stuff he had bought at Sephora with Chloe that first time. We'd decided what we were doing would have more impact if he looked like an average girl. Someone's hot sister, the girl you lusted after in class. "You sure about this?" I looked at him through the little screen on the camera. He nodded. "Yeah. I have to see what's out there some time. It would have been nice to have looked through them first though." I looked up from behind the camera. "We talked about this. We agreed that it would have more effect if our viewers saw your gut response." He nodded and smiled faintly, his big blue eyes looking so innocent. I could see why directors loved him. I'd come up with the idea earlier in the week. He wouldn't be the first 'celebrity' to read his YouTube comments to camera, still it'd be a real experience. Some much needed emotional connection in amongst all the secret cam footage. He went back into the bedroom and said, "You'll be on this too, right?" "Not exactly." I played with the zoom, framing the shot. "I'll be behind the camera, but you can speak to me and I'll speak back. If you need to." I'd probably edit out my bits. He looked at me and said, "Here we go, I guess." I pointed and he walked out of our bedroom, his hair bouncing around. He looked at the camera and said, with a smile. "So, today, I am going to see what my fans have to say," he said, enunciating each word. He walked over to my open laptop and made a kissing face at the camera, "and my Becky, my Becky with the good hair," he sang, "oops sorry, Becca, is filming the whole thing." I hated Becky, but he looked so damn cute that I couldn't get upset. I had closed the blinds, so that he was lit only by the laptop screen beneath him. It picked out his delicate features, the ones created by the growth disorder from his childhood. She poised her fingers over the keyboard. "So, what should I look at first? Well," and she bit her lip. "How about Mutual Haven? It was first," she said, looking at me. I gave her a thumbs up. She shifted around, moving her hair behind her neck. "Don't move so much, Bunny," I said. "I've got you where I want you." I saw her forehead crease at me for using her nickname on camera. "Don't fret. I'll edit my bit out." She pushed her hair back behind her ears. She looked down at the laptop, her face momentarily glowing, then back up at me for reassurance. Again I gave the thumbs up. "Wow," she said, sounding surprised, "let's see who we have. Chucky Cheese says: 'has anyone had this thought occur to you - boner city"'. I don't know Chucky, but great grammar." She smiled at her own little joke. "Next we have..." She started playing with her hair, pushing it behind her ears. A tick she had when she was nervous. It wasn't long enough to stay there and fell back almost immediately. "We have VengefulBaz. Vengeful Baz says 'she has no butt'," she did a funny voice, kind of gruff when reading out the comment. "Thanks Baz, good to know my bum doesn't look big in life insurance." This went on for a while. Alex's silly voices and gestures made me smile, but it wasn't really getting me the footage I needed. So I suggested we try the O'Funnigans ad. Again there was that look of concentration on her face as she navigated the web. Alex is dyslexic and, as such, has never trusted what she writes to be right. She looked vulnerable sitting alone on the sofa in the semi dark. I'd made the right choices. This time she read the comments for a moment before starting. I could see a little sweat forming on her brow. "Don't do that Bunny. I need your direct responses, no filter." She looked at me uncertainly before reaching for a glass of water, which annoyed me. "Come on, Bunny. When you move that much, it ruins the shot." She looked hurt and I felt bad. "Sorry." She nodded and put down the glass. "I needed water," she grumbled, as she moved the glass nearer to her this time. "Is this OK?" I gave her a thumbs up. "Oh wow," she said, biting her lip again. "O'Funnigan's. These are definitely not making things Funnigan. Too much bacon and cheese stuffed pizza crust." This time she didn't smile at her own joke. "So quiffeburglar says," her voice changed to the funny gruff one she'd used before but I could tell she wasn't that into it anymore. "The unspeakable things I would do to that woman....." A pause and a gulp. "Probably best left unsaid." She scrolled down a little further. "Here's another one. This guy says; 'I want to clean her asshole with my tongue.' OK. I guess my bum isn't the only arsehole here." It went on like that, for some time. Another guy said that he wished she would have tossed one of her stiletto sandals his way. 'I wasn't even wearing stiletto sandals,' she protested, her voice quaking. After about ten minutes she came to a stop. Looking up at me. I zoomed in for a close