Chapter 5
Shake It Hot!
Fenella
Shooting this commercial is my last project this year before we go on winter break. After this, we can move on, finish other projects at the beginning of the year, and then I can finally be free from Gene. So, I just have to endure a little longer.
“Fenella, welcome,” Alan says, stretching out his arms like he’s about to hug me the second I walk into the meeting room. I ignore him, of course.
“Hey, Alan,” Jessy greets.
I stay silent, refusing to acknowledge him. I still don’t want to talk to him, and honestly, he deserves the cold shoulder. Besides, whether I’m friendly or not, I still have to finish this damn project.
“You’re not gonna say hi to me?” Alan presses.
I keep walking into the room, not even breaking stride. The three of us are supposed to meet the director and the producer for shooting prep, but before I can sit down, Alan grabs my arm.
“What the—” My jaw drops.
The sharp set of his jaw and that piercing stare shut me up real quick. His hand tightens on my arm, and then he leans in, whispering.
“I demand your respect. Even if you’re reluctant and planning to leave Gene, I’m still your boss. You got that?” His hiss is right in my face.
“Answer me.” Even though it’s a whisper, every word comes out through his gritted teeth.
My knees shake. He’s getting more aggressive, almost feral. He’s dominating the whole damn room, and I know ignoring him will only make things worse. I glance at Jessy, whose jaw drops.
Jessy tries to talk him down. “Alan, I think—”
“Yes, Alan,” I cut him off. It’s not worth the risk. This’ll all be over soon, I remind myself.
“Good,” he says, finally letting go. I’m trembling as I rub my reddened wrist. God, this is getting more serious.
The three of us take our seats and wait. Not long after, two women and a man walk in. Alan jumps up right away, and I follow. They introduce themselves, and we go around shaking hands with fake smiles.
“So, you two are the models, right? Just relax and make yourselves comfortable. You should trust me,” Martha, the director, says with a laugh.
“Don’t worry, Martha, we trust you one hundred percent,” Alan adds, chuckling along with the room.
“Damn, didn’t expect you to hop in as the star of this one,” Lorenzo, the producer, says with a chuckle, throwing Alan a look.
“Anything for Mallory, right?” Alan shrugs, laughing like he’s the life of the party.
“Yeah, true. Plus, it’s your brand. That personal touch makes the whole thing more emotional.” Lorenzo nods.
So, it’s true.
“Oh, really? I didn’t know 4U was yours, Alan.” I turn, staring at him.
“Half the shares are mine, the rest are Mallory’s. Guess I never mentioned that, huh?” Alan shrugs again.
“Surprise!” I throw up both hands with a fake laugh. Everyone else laughs too.
Damn it. He set me up. No wonder he slipped the contract in so easily, and now he’s rushing us to finish.
The meeting wraps, and we head out. Jessy and I walk to the car, but Alan plants himself right in front of my door. I sigh, force a smile, and look him dead in the eye.
“Yes, Alan? What now?”
“I heard you met Mallory at the studio yesterday. Thought you could cancel the project that way?”
“Well, I couldn’t give up. Now that it’s failed, I’ve got no choice but to keep going. Now, move. I wanna go home,” I snap.
“I told you, Fenella. Stick with me, and you’ll be the biggest name out there. Why throw it away for some guy?”
“If you’d been honest, kept out of my personal life, and respected my boundaries, I’d still care about Gene.” I fold my arms, shaking my head.
“You’re too na?ve. Sometimes crossing those lines is what gets you to the top.”
“Forget it. I’ll find another way. Now, please, move aside.” I narrow my eyes.
Alan snorts, then laughs, mocking me, but I don’t care. Seeing I won’t bend, he finally steps back and opens the car door with a fake flourish. “After you, milady.”
I slide in, Jessy fires up the engine, and we peel out, leaving Alan standing alone on the curb. I glance in the mirror. His figure looks pitiful, but I remind myself he’s toxic and dangerous.
“You think I should show the script to Laird?”
“Oh no, honey, don’t. He’ll lose his mind and flip Alan upside down at the Statue of Liberty.” Jessy shakes his head.
“Yeah, you’re right. He promised he wouldn’t look at the ad. And it’s not like he’ll see it anyway, right?” I rest my chin against the window, twirling my hair.
“Yeah, no chance. Condom ads barely make it past niche channels and are absolutely banned from socials ads.”
* * *
Several days after our meeting, I’m sitting in the makeup chair in front of the mirror. Wearing a long-sleeved black knit sweater and jeans, I look like any ordinary woman. That’s the concept of today’s ad: a couple going shopping to prep for a winter vacation abroad.
“Okay, all set,” the makeup artist says after finishing my face with neutral tones.
“Thanks,” I say with a small smile.
She heads off to report to the director, and I sigh, staying in the chair as I glance down at my phone. There’s a text from Laird, and I read it right away.
Laird:
Hey. Has the shooting started yet?
Since yesterday, he’s been sending me messages and calling a bunch of times. I know he’s trying to hold back his jealousy, but the tone and anxiety in his voice always give him away.
We agreed not to tell him the details about the shoot. We both knew he might lose it if he heard what was happening behind the scenes. Honestly, even I didn’t know the specifics until the makeup artist filled me in this morning.
Me:
Not yet. Just finished my makeup. You done with your meeting?
Laird:
I just wrapped mine, heading into the next one.
Are you covered up?
“Fenella, we’re starting soon. Come meet the director for rehearsal,” Jessy calls from the doorway.
“Yeah, coming,” I say as I push myself up from the chair.
Me:
For this first scene, I’m dressed simple: warm sweater and jeans.
Good luck. I gotta run, the shoot’s starting.
Laird:
Ok.
That’s it? Ugh. He’s definitely worried about me shooting with Alan today. I can’t deny I barely slept last night, too anxious about how this would go.
I take a deep breath, exhale, and brace myself. Time to test my acting. The dialogue’s minimal, but I’m terrified of forgetting it. Every ad I’ve done before was easier—simple moves, big smiles, sometimes no dialogue at all.
I walk out of the makeup room and spot Alan in a gray sweater and trousers. We look like any couple you’d bump into on the street. For the first time, I’m shooting an ad without glamour dresses or heavy makeup. The simplicity only makes me more nervous.
“Hey,” I say, approaching Martha and her assistant, who are already hovering around Alan.
“Hey, Fenella. You ready?” Martha squeezes my arms.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
We listen to her direction about style and expressions for the first scene, and after prepping for a bit, Alan and I head to the set. The room’s staged like a small drugstore, with us placed in the middle facing a shelf lined with 4U condom products.
Nearby, an older-looking model in a white lab coat ties her hair back like a pro pharmacist. She smiles at me and gives two thumbs up.
“You got this,” she whispers.
“Break a leg,” I grin, flashing her the same gesture.
I brace myself for the first take. Everyone keeps saying not to stress about mistakes, but I want this perfect. I don’t want to disappoint anyone or waste their time. One take is the dream.
“Nervous?” Alan asks.
“Little bit,” I exhale.
Suddenly, he grabs my hand. My eyes shoot wide. This isn’t in the script. I try to pull away, but his grip tightens and he tugs me closer.
“It’s fine. Just play it natural, like we’re really a couple out shopping. It’ll look better. Trust me.”
I hesitate but let him lead. Maybe he’s right, two people buying condoms would naturally be a little physical. Still, ugh. It feels wrong. I force another breath to steady myself. This is just acting.
“Alright, everyone in position. Quiet on set,” the assistant’s voice booms through the megaphone. The room falls silent.
“Action!”
My heart kicks. I scan the shelf, hitting my mark.
“Hi. Can I help you?” the pharmacist asks.
“Yeah, I’m looking for a condom that suits us,” I say, while Alan picks up a box.
“Do you know your size?” she asks, like she’s asking about a shirt.
Alan and I lock eyes. “Maybe standard?” he says with a blink.
“Do you wanna try it first?” she asks.
We freeze. Our lines are done. Seconds tick by before the AD yells, “Cut!” and the studio fills with whispers again. All eyes swing to the director.
“Fenella, loosen up. We need more smiles. Ease your grip on his hand, and keep the energy up.”
Oof. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll fix it,” I say, bowing a bit too much.
I hate being the reason for another take, but we redo the scene again and again. It’s not until the fifth try that the director nods, satisfied.
“Cut, okay!”
Finally.
We jump ahead to the final scene. Same clothes, but now Alan and I wave at the pharmacist while holding a paper bag full of condoms. Our hair’s mussed, smiles big and satisfied as we walk off frame.
Hours later, I’m back in the makeup room. A satin robe drapes over me, but underneath, just a breast patch covers my chest. The stylist thickens my hair so it falls long and full enough to hide me. I’m almost bare for the second round of shooting.
I’ve got on a nude G-string, and my body’s practically exposed.
The director swore the camera would never catch anything vital, angles carefully chosen.
The intimacy coordinator also will stay with us all the time, directing our moves, and giving props.
Still, seeing how little I’m wearing makes me blush with embarrassment. I’m basically naked.
“Fenella, you can come out now,” Jessy says, pushing the door open.
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. He notices my clenched jaw and steps closer.
“You good?” He squeezes my shoulders.