Lucky Shot (Behind the Lens)
1. Phoebe
I hum softly, as I sort through the assortment of items in the boxes on the shelves in the shared storage room.
My hand reaches for something bright green tucked in a container, and I pull out a giant, thin contraption that looks like it has scales on it.
What the fuck is this? I turn it backward and forward in my hand, trying to get my mind to make heads or tails of what it is.
The door opens behind me softly and catches my attention, all the years where I was trained to use all my senses to keep myself alive, instantly coming back into play, as I tense my body, ready to instantly defend myself.
Emma steps into the room, comes to a halt, and releases the cutest freaking giggle I’ve ever heard, the sound melodic and bright, just like she is.
My eyes wander over her, as she stands there with her high cheekbones flaming red.
Her beautiful red hair looks like priceless rubies, with the overhead lights shining down on it, and it sits in an adorable, messy, floppy bun at the top of her head, which causes her to look younger than I know she is.
Her bright green eyes zero in on what I’m holding, and her small freckl ed nose wrinkles with obvious amusement.
My lips crack open in a smile, as I take in her t-shirt with a grouchy cat on it.
“Hey, Ems, what are you up to?”
“Hey, Phebes! I’m looking for a corset to use for my next live.”
She steps further into the room, and her delicate eyebrow arches, as she nods her head toward the forgotten item in my hand. “You have plans for that lizard strap-on attachment?”
Lizard what now? My eyes widen as my glance returns to my hand, and I finally make out what it is, which causes me to fling the thing back in the box with a scream, as Emma cracks up laughing. Oh my God, I am not made for this shit. I don’t think I would have figured out what that lime green thing was on my own, and based on her embarrassment, and the red tinging her cheeks and neck, she isn’t either.
Once we can both catch our breaths from laughing at my choices of props, and there are no more scaled lizard contraptions in sight, I start searching through the closest boxes. I pull out a flower-embroidered corset that I saw earlier, when I was looking for something to use for my own shows, and wave it at her. “This would look stunning with your hair. The gold and sage green will make your eyes pop.”
She gives me a sweet, shy smile as she takes it from me and holds it against her chest, and I’m right; it’ll look amazing on her with her fair complexion, and gorgeous red hair. I search through the same box again, and pull out a flowered crown that will make her look like a fairy. “This will work with that. Maybe you could cosplay a fairy or something.”
I shrug my shoulders, hoping I’m not offending her.
“Thank you, Phebes, it’s perfect.”
She starts to turn back toward the door and stops, looking over her shoulder at me, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Lorna was looking for you earlier. I think she’s back in her office now, or maybe in the breakroom.”
She shifts back and forth on her sneaker-covered feet, and I can tell she’s uncomf ortable, but trying to push herself out of her comfort zone. I get it. What we do seems easy from the outside, but can be damn hard and intimidating, especially if we all don’t have Lorna and Sylvia’s confidence. Which I for sure don’t, but what’s that old saying? Fake it until you make it. Fuck, I’m trying.
One of these days, I’m determined to get Emma to tell me her story, and how she made her way to Behind the Lens Studios . She’s so skittish, and looks like she could use a friend, and honestly, I could probably use one too. All my secrets are starting to play havoc with my mental health. I’m constantly worrying about what others think, if someone recognizes me from my cam show, or worse, if someone back home has finally caught wind of where I am, and what I am doing. I clear my throat, and she raises a perfect eyebrow at me questioningly. “Em, you wanna grab a coffee sometime? There’s this cute little shop I found, that has the best lemon poppy seed cake, and does tarot card readings.”
I steel myself against her rejection, knowing it’s probably coming and will crush me. I have such a hard time making friends. Back home, people I went to school with called me cold, and a snob. They didn’t understand that my distance was for their safety. Her long, dark lashes flutter, and she gives me a smile that reaches all the way to her eyes. I take a deep inhale, realizing that I was holding my breath as I waited for her to dismiss me. “I’d love that. Just let me know when.”
She points with her thumb toward the storage room door, the delicate golden corset and flower crown forgotten in her other hand. “I’d better get back up there. I have a live starting soon.”
Shit! What time is it? I have to get my props and get ready for my own live show. I can’t be late, and disappoint my subscribers. I yank my phone out of my denim shorts pocket, and stare at it in horror. I have less than an hour to get myself ready and in front of the camera, and I now have to go up and see Lorna. I better move my ass and quick. “See you later, Em.”
I turn my back, and start digging through the boxes in front of me, for a new prop to use, my eyes darting back and forth to the lizard strap-on, before I grab a see-through creamy babydoll nightie, that has pretty little green leaves embroidered on it, and a matching lovely crepe mask. Perfect! When I turn around, Emma is gone, and I dash out of the room, past reception, where Nova is on the phone, and take the stairs looking for Lorna.
As I pass all the closed doors, the memory of my first interaction with Lorna months ago enters my mind.
“Are you sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into, Phoebe? This world is not for the faint of heart.”
The woman across the desk from me raises an immaculate arched eyebrow, and it is touching that she seems to genuinely care about what happens to me, a perfect stranger, and one who is clearly lying about who she is. This is not what I expected at all.
In fact, I have no idea what I was expecting when it came to Lorna, or doing naked cam shows for paying subscribers. It never crossed my mind to do something like this, but I am out of choices, unless I want to give up and go back home, with my tail tucked between my legs, where my freedom will be ripped away from me. Well, here I am. “Trust me, I know all about the world being a brutal place.”
I swallow the lump that forms in my throat, as I think about him and my family. “I promise you, I will do my very best and won’t bring any trouble your way. Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Lorna.”
She nods her head at me, her lips opening as if she wants to say something else, but decides not to. “The room will be solely yours. Everything you need to know is included in that document. We test regularly for STDs, and have access to birth control if you need it. Just make sure you write down your hard limits, and welcome to Behind the Lens.”
She rises from behind her desk and shakes my hand.
I’m yanked out of my memory as I reach Lorna’s door and straighten my shoulders. I hope I haven’t done something wrong. I’ve been diligent in following all her rules, and I don’t think any of my subscribers have complained, so I have no idea why she would want to see me. With a deep breath, I raise my hand and knock on the door. Fuck, here goes nothing. If I lose this job, I’ll literally be up shit creek, so here’s hoping my luck is not that bad.
“Come in,”
Lorna’s sultry voice calls, as I open the door and step inside. “Hey, Lorna, you asked to see me?”
I question, as the rich scent of vanilla immediately fills my nose, and somehow always seems to put me at ease.
My eyes roam around the room, taking in the stunning ornate fireplace, the custom built-in bookcases, and the beautiful black glass chandelier, before centering on the large, dark desk, and to the beautiful woman sitting behind it.
Everything about Lorna screams modern, sexy pin-up girl, from her gorgeous blue hair and piercing blue eyes, to the colorful tattoos that are on display down her arms, thanks to her sleeveless black halter top.
The cute alien tattoo catches my eye, and I end up grinning like a weirdo at her.
“What’s up?”
I question, and prepare myself to be reprimanded and dismissed.
My anxiety rises as she looks me over silently, nods to the chair in front of her desk, and I take a seat.
I have to interlace my clammy hands on my lap to stop them from shaking, and I end up focused on the pretty babydoll nightie and mask that are across my thighs.
I’m afraid to look at her.
What am I going to do if she kicks me out of here? I only have two months of savings left, after I paid the remainder of my tuition last week.
I’m going to be screwed.
There’s no way I will be able to hold down another job with my hectic class schedule, and certainly not one that pays so well.
It’s not like I can take on a student loan; my fake identification is decent, for what I paid for it, but it won’t hold up if someone starts to really dig.
As the silenc e continues, my anxiety keeps climbing, until I’m almost positive I am going to have a panic attack, and I’m ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.
I watch from below my lashes, as she folds her hands elegantly on the surface of the sleek table. Fuck, this is it. This is when my whole world explodes again. “I wanted to talk to you about our first annual Behind the Lens calendar. It’s something we are putting together, and I would like to offer you a spot.”
Calendar? Her words circle in my brain, round and round, and I know I’m sitting here with my mouth open, and about to cry, which for sure is going to make me look bat-shit crazy. My mouth opens and closes, nothing escaping as she goes on. “You’ll do a full photoshoot with our photographer, Chad, and some props, and a sexy video with a guest of your choosing. This will be available so you can post on your channel for your subscribers. Breathe, Phoebe, this is just for fun.“ I force air loudly through my nose, as the implications of what she’s saying make it through my muddled brain. “A calendar shoot?”
I know I’m parroting her, but luckily for me, she doesn’t look annoyed yet. “Yeah, you’ll be March. You can choose a holiday of your choice from that month as a theme.”
The first thing that enters my mind is St. Patrick’s Day, and thoughts of leprechauns, pots of gold, and four-leaf clovers race through my mind. She wants me to do a themed calendar shoot? Holy shit, there’s no way I can do that.
Oh my God, no! How do I politely tell her that I don’t want to be in her calendar, after she so graciously offered it to me, and has been nothing short of amazing? She’s allowed me to earn enough money here in the last few months, not only to support myself, but also to pay for my education, so I can follow my dream of being a speech therapist. You don’t, idiot. You thank the pretty blue-haired lady, get the hell out of the room, and figure out a way not to get caught, and have your whole new life ruined.
“Thank you. Ummm, you mentioned a guest?”
The words taste like ash in my mouth. So far, I’ve only done solo cam shows for my subscribers. I’ve never had anyone else in the room with me, and just the thought of the photographer taking pictures of me is intimidating, and already freaking me out. Never mind the idea of someone else being in there, and watching me, or doing stuff with me. Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be able to pull that off, without giving myself a heart attack. “It could be one of your regulars, a boyfriend or girlfriend, or even one of the other stars here.”
Great, I don’t have a boyfriend, nor do I want one, with all my secrets. My regulars hide behind a screen name, so I have no idea who they are, or what they even look like. The idea of having sex with one of the other stars here has my heart galloping in my chest, and my stomach ready to introduce my egg salad lunch to Lorna’s expensive floors. “Great. Sounds amazing. Thank you.”
I get up from the chair and practically dart toward the door.
I escape without a backward glance, racing down the hall until I reach my room, my props crushed in my fisted hands.
Once the door is closed behind me, I fall to my knees and let the panic attack roll right over me, as I struggle to catch my breath, and my chest feels like a herd of circus elephants are sitting on it.
I can’t fucking do this, but I also know I have no choice.
I can’t risk losing everything I have built here for myself, since I escaped from Chicago.
I can’t let them ever find me and drag me back. Dammit, I have just jumped off of a cliff without a safety net. I’m doomed.