Chapter 5 Rama
CHAPTER FIVE: Rama
Iwake inches away from Pravat, my hand resting on his chest and our bare feet touching.
I’ve never enjoyed spending the night with past lovers and normally do everything in my power to avoid it. But Pravat and I aren’t lovers, and he’s sleeping so peacefully, chest rising and falling with every breath, I don’t want to wake him.
Carefully, I withdraw my hand and slide out of bed.
In the mirror above the double sinks in the bathroom, my hair looks wild, and my face is pink and creased from sleep. I wash, brush my teeth, and comb my hair before returning to the bedroom to find the bed empty.
“Sleep well?”
Pravat’s voice brings me swinging around, hand to my heart. He stands just inside the door, a hanger of clothes in each hand.
Remembering how I woke up so close to him, I flush and look away. “Yes. Did you?”
He lays the clothes on the freshly made bed and turns to me. “Like a baby. These are our outfits for the first part of the photo shoot. Nahm says he’ll bring the others to us later.”
I look at the matching gauzy white shirts and white pants. “Do we put them on now?”
“After breakfast, or we’re sure to spill something on them. Come on. Aran and Tait are waiting for us downstairs. No one else is here.”
The house is bright and airy with high ceilings and gleaming oak floors that our bare feet make slapping noises against as I follow Pravat down the long staircase.
On our way to the kitchen, I catch a glimpse of a large screened-in porch looking over the sea on our way to the modern white kitchen where Aran and Tait sit at an oak table.
A row of opened plastic containers of food from a catering company line the counter.
Picking up a plate, I spoon some omelet, eggs, and fruit onto my plate before sitting at the table.
“Aran and I have bathing suit pictures first, which means we’ll have to come back and shower before changing,” Tait says.
“You think we’ll have to get wet?” Aran asks him.
“Of course. What’s sexier than wet?”
“You’d better eat up. You’ll need your strength. I’m sure they’ll have me riding on your back or something,” Aran says with a smile.
I look up from my plate. “How do you know that?”
“They always do stuff like that in the photo shoots. And I’m always the one getting the ride.” Aran’s eyes twinkle. “You’ll get the same treatment as Pravat’s wife.”
When I glance at Pravat, he’s watching me. “Does that bother you?” he asks.
I smile. “No. People are always calling me pretty.”
Tait winks at me. “With eyelashes like those, it’s no wonder.”
Aran nudges him and says good-naturedly, “Watch it. You’re my man for the next several months. Toe the line.”
Tait groans. “Is this what it’s going to be like being married to you?”
They laugh.
“I don’t have to act differently, do I?” I ask uncertainly.
“What? No. Not at all. You’re perfect the way you are,” Pravat’s arm brushes mine as he picks up his fork, raising goosebumps on my skin, and I stare at them a moment, wondering what’s up with me.
Aran breaks through my thoughts with a question.
“Are you ready for the kissing? The first time I practiced, I nearly passed out, I was so nervous. I’d never kissed another guy, and it’s awkward with each new costar. But Tait and I have known each other a long time and have kissed while playing side parts.”
“Yeah, but this is the first time we’re a more featured couple. Fans are already buzzing about it.” Wrapping an arm around Aran, Tait presses a loud smack of a kiss to his co-star’s forehead.
“We got that out of the way already,” Pravat answers for me. “It’s much easier to do when people aren’t staring at you.”
Remembering Pravat’s kiss last night in the van, my cheeks burn.
“Smart.” Aran looks at Tait. “Maybe we should practice since it’s been a while for us.”
“Sure.” Leaning towards Aran, Tait puckers up his lips, but Aran laughingly pushes him away.
“Not now, stupid.”
We’re washing the dishes when Nahm sticks his head in the back door. “We need you guys down at the beach, pronto! Hurry and get dressed. The make-up and hair person will do the rest.”
The four of us race upstairs to change.
When I step outside the back door to meet the others, I’m struck by how amazing Pravat looks, his copper skin contrasting beautifully with the white clothes and the small silver earrings and thin necklace he wears. It’s easy to see why he’s so popular with fans.
“Where are your shoes?” Pravat asks me, looking down at my bare feet.
“The thong broke on one when we were coming up the steps last night. I didn’t bring another pair. I was hoping I might get some in town today.”
He crouches, and, thinking he means to examine my feet, I take a step back, embarrassed.
“Come on. I’ll give you a ride on my back,” he says.
When I only stare, he looks up at me. “Come on. The sand will scorch your feet.”
Tait and Aran are already half-way to the tent-covered area across acres of hot sand. Taking a steadying breath, I step behind Pravat and carefully climb onto his broad back. Hooking his arms behind my knees, he straightens up.
I feel ridiculous, but at the same time the fact that Pravat cares enough about me not to want me to burn my feet touches me deeply—probably more deeply than the simple act warrants, but I’m not accustomed to this type of attention.
It’s a very strange feeling to be a grown man riding on the back of another grown man, but maybe the skinship Pravat and I have developed in the short amount of time we’ve known each other really works because I find myself relaxing, wrapping my arms around Pravat’s neck, and resting my head against his.
As we approach the others gathered under a large pole tent, no one seems to think Pravat carrying me like a kid is out of the ordinary. He sets me on my feet.
“Rama’s shoe broke,” he explains to Tida and Maha.
Tida nods. “I’ll send Nahm for a new pair.
Pravat and Tait, you two go first with the makeup artists.
Aran, Maha has a couple of things to go over with you.
I want to have a chat with you, Nong.” Hooking her arm with mine, she leads me a few feet away to a set of chairs facing the ocean.
The sky’s clear and the sun strong, but when Tida raises a wide umbrella over the chairs, it gives us ample shade.
Twenty yards away across sparkling hot sand, the gentle surf looks inviting lapping against the shore, and I stare at it until Tida speaks.
“How are you fairing?” she asks, regarding me from behind large tortoiseshell sunglasses.
“I’m doing well, thank you.”
She smiles. “Great. Are you nervous? Is there anything I can do to make all of this easier for you? You’re a little difficult to read.”
I let out a breath, telling myself to relax and be straight with her.
“I’m a little nervous about the pictures.
I have trouble relaxing in photos, but Pravat says he’ll help me.
” Looking down at my hands, I admit, “I’m also nervous about filming.
I’m new and don’t want to be any trouble to the rest of you. ”
“You’ll catch on quickly, and Pravat will help you with that, too. You seem to be getting comfortable with him.”
I nod. “He’s easy to be around.”
“I’m glad there are no issues.”
I silently promise myself to make sure I never seem anything but completely happy with Pravat. After what he’s been through, I don’t want him to have any trouble.
“You two have great chemistry. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
We’ll have several photo shoots over the next few months, and by the time shooting begins, everyone will have heard of the two of you as a couple and be anticipating the series.
Photos are already circulating, and you seem very relaxed and at home in them, so I wouldn’t worry about this shoot. ”
I hope she’s right, but I can’t help imagining her face as she looks over dozens of photographs ruined by my stiff posture and unnatural expression.
Finished with their makeup, Pravat and Tait rise from their chairs, and the makeup artist waves a hand for me to come over.
He introduces himself as Beam and wraps an apron around my neck before pinning my hair back from my face.
For the next ten minutes I sit as he brushes and swabs my face until I think I have to look like a clown with all the makeup he’s putting on me.
But when Beam holds up the mirror for me to look, what I see is only an enhanced version of myself with more color in my face and lips slightly pink and glossy.
A stout woman moves in to do my hair, and then I’m ready.
Aran has finished before me, and I see him and Tait following a couple photographers down the beach.
Pravat insists upon carrying me across the burning sand to the large beach umbrella where a short, athletic man with a camera waits for us. He directs us to sit on a dark swath of material with me positioned between Pravat’s legs, leaning against him.
“Relax,” Pravat whispers in my ear, running his fingers down my side and making me laugh. Evidently, he’s already learned my ticklish spot.
“Look intently into the camera,” the photographer instructs. “Good. Now turn and look into each other’s eyes.”
I stare into Pravat’s eyes while the photographer takes photo after photo, extremely grateful for the staring exercise we did at the workshop.
Without that, I know I would be too uncomfortable to hold this intimate pose for long.
Puffs of Pravat’s warm, minty breath fall on my lips as I gaze into his eyes.
Have I ever studied someone so intently before? I don’t think so.
“Now lean your heads together, nose to nose,” the photographer directs.
“That’s it. Lower your eyes. Beautiful.” Over the ocean breeze and the accelerated beating of my heart I vaguely hear the soft whoosh and click of the shutter closing repeatedly.
I find this is actually easier than smiling for family photos. All I have to do is sit here and be.
“Rama, part your lips. That’s it. Beam. More gloss on his lower lip.”
Beam moves in, dabbing more color to my lips before moving away again. More clicks of the shutter.
“Marvelous. Pravat, I want to see desire. You want to eat his man up. Yes, perfect, just perfect.”
My pulse gallops at the way Pravat’s looking at me. I’m thankful when the photographer tells us to move again.
This time, I kneel behind Pravat, arms loosely wrapped around his neck and our faces together with mine slightly turned, my attention on him as he stares straight ahead into the camera. Next, we lie down on a blanket, Pravat hovering over me, one leg bent in a catlike movement.
The poses go on and on, until finally, after straddling Pravat’s shoulders, my upper half tumbling over the side of him while we both attempt to look sultry rather than awkward, the photographer calls for us to relax. I sprawl to the sand, and the team gathers to take a look at the results.
“What was with that last pose?” I say, brushing sand off my arms.
“You’ll be surprised at how good some of the weirder poses turn out,” Pravat says.
The photos must have been satisfactory because a moment later we’re instructed to walk hand-in-hand up the beach and play in the surf for some candid shots. By the time we’re called to change outfits, I’m exhausted. Judging by the sun, it’s well past noon. My stomach growls.
The final shots of the day are taken of us in swimsuits.
We are photographed with me on Pravat’s back—as Aran had anticipated—then with Pravat lifting me from the ground, arms under my ass.
As I look down into his smiling eyes, I can’t help but smile back, suddenly incredibly happy and content, having no clue at that moment that this is the photo that will go viral with the hashtag Pravmalove, beginning our ascent as the next big Y-couple of the bl industry.