Chapter 11 #2
“Then what does it mean?” I challenged. I was starting to feel like an actual reporter. Only that the thing I was reporting on wasn’t usual.
He watched me for a moment, then his eyes moved to Rocco, who gave him a shrug. “Answer the girl, man.”
Callan looked at me again and let out a heavy breath. “I like control,” he said finally. “If something goes wrong, I want to know it was because of me, not because someone else didn’t pay attention.”
I wrote that down because that was actually a great answer. One I hadn’t expected because I didn’t think Callan was the kind of man to admit to his mistakes. But then, I didn’t really know much about Callan.
“So you like to do everything yourself?” I asked.
He gave a small, humorless laugh. “Not the actual fucking. I definitely need others in the scene with me. But this part,” he gestured toward the equipment, “this is precision. The lighting and the angles. Even the sound. Everything matters. One bad shadow, one mic crackle, it ruins the whole scene. And then it’s hours wasted.
So if anything goes wrong, I want to be the one to blame instead of having five people blaming each other. ”
I nodded slowly. “Makes sense.”
Rocco snorted. “He’s a complete control freak.”
Callan shot him a look. “You want to keep your job?”
Rocco held up both hands. “Just saying the truth. She needs raw material for her essay if she wants it to be good.”
I hid a small smile behind my pen, and I decided in that moment that this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Their dynamic was light and fun, yet serious.
I wasn’t surprised they were friends, even if they had that black cat and golden retriever dynamic.
Callan was the serious perfectionist, while Rocco was the one who didn’t take anything seriously but knew exactly how far he could push.
“Anyway,” Rocco said, glancing at me with a smug grin, “you’ll probably want to note that down too. ‘Director exhibits god complex.’ Might win you extra credit.”
I chuckled and dropped my gaze to my notebook.
“You’re actually writing that down?” Callan asked.
I looked up at him with a shake of my head and smiled. “No, I’m not.”
“Then what did you write down?”
“Just that I’m impressed with how professional this set looks.”
His hard expression eased a little. “Thanks.”
I smiled again.
“You should write about his mood swings, too. Might take a whole separate chapter. though,” Rocco teased.
“Keep talking, and you’ll be cleaning the set all night,” Callan said.
Rocco smirked. “Case in point.”
I pursed my lips and held back a chuckle. “I’m not writing a character study. I’m focusing on the process.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “It would still be pretty funny to write about the Buster Ace. I’d read the shit out of an essay about him.”
Callan ignored him and turned to one of the lights to adjust it. “Process is all that matters,” he said without looking up. “If you get the process right, the rest follows. If you don’t, it’s chaos. Everything needs structure.”
I scribbled another note. “Do you think that applies to everything, or just your work?”
His eyes flicked up to mine. “To everything. Even your little essay.”
I nodded because he was right. I knew what it meant to have structure all too well.
It’s what made things easier—at least for me.
Holland, for example, had no structure at all.
She didn’t even have a morning routine or followed her actual class schedule.
She was a whirlwind, but it worked for her, which was something I admired.
Rocco sat down on the chair next to me and sipped his coffee. “He’s been like this since day one,” he said. “Back when we were shooting in shitty motels with one light stand and a cheap tripod.”
That caught me off guard. “You used to shoot porn in motels?”
“Sure did. You think we’ve always had this house?” Rocco asked, amused.
“I guess I didn’t think about that. I just figured you…were always successful.”
Callan shook his head. “No, we had a rough start, actually.”
And that was all he said. He wasn’t going into detail, and while I was intrigued in finding out more, I didn’t push. I wasn’t here to invade his privacy. I was here to write about an adult film set.
So, I decided to change the subject. “All the equipment…did you buy it yourself?”
Callan looked at the camera in front of me before his eyes met mine again. “I didn’t pay for it, no. It’s sponsored by the studio I work with.”
“Studio?” I asked while writing down what he was saying.
“Yeah. I’m independent, but I work with a studio that handles castings and some distribution for me. After getting big in the industry, I needed some help handling minor things.”
“Castings are minor things?” I asked, quickly looking up at him.
“In the grand scheme of everything, yes. I want to focus on the filming and producing. And the end product. Castings take time, and I don’t have enough of it to sit down and go through thousands of applications.”
I wrote that down too. “Got it.”
“The girls will be here soon,” Rocco said, checking his phone. “Trey just texted. They’re five minutes out.”
My stomach tightened as reality caught up to me.
In a few minutes, I’d be watching Callan have sex, and the thought made my pulse jump.
I wasn’t sure how I’d handle it, even though I was playing it cool.
I hadn’t come here to watch people fuck.
I’d come to take notes, to study how a production like this was run, and to see how different it was from a normal movie set.
That was what I needed to focus on. The rest, I’d have to block out if I wanted to get through the night.