Chapter 20
Corey
F or the first time since I got into the adult film business, I’m really regretting my life choices. I’m alone in a sterile trailer on the set of “Edgelord,” waiting for Bex to call me, and I can’t help but wish I was anywhere but here.
Filming started two days ago, and it pains me to think there’s at least four more days to go. When Neon Nights Media booked this project with Mark Savage, I was thrilled. It’s a huge production, with a lot of well-known performers in some hot locations, and some of the sexiest scenes I’ve ever read in print.
Maybe I wouldn’t hate it so much if my ex wasn’t starring opposite me. Sabrina Ryder. The only long-term partner I’ve ever had in my life. My ex-fucking-wife. We were everything until we were nothing. I’ll never forget how, after six years together, she texted me saying she was moving on. Promised to have all of her things moved out of the two-million dollar house we shared in Los Feliz by the end of that week.
Six years, gone via text message.
Needless to say, we haven’t spoken in the five years that have passed since. Maybe a nod of acknowledgement at industry events, but we’ve pretty much stayed clear of each other.
And now we’re starring in a film, our first together in so long, and we’re supposed to fuck, suck, lick, spank, and tease each other like it’s our job. And yeah, it is our job, but goddamn if it’s not the most challenging film I’ve done in my life. For the first time in my career, I’m having issues getting ready to perform.
I can’t get hard. Not when I see or hear Sabrina, and she’s in almost every scene with me. Not only is it emasculating, but it’s knocking me down a couple of rungs on my ladder of confidence and ego.
There’s a knock on my trailer door and I hesitate before saying, “Come in.”
The door swings open, and Mark steps up into the trailer. Thank fuck, because if it was Sabrina, I might lose it.
“Hey,” I say from my spot on the couch. “What’s up?”
“I need you to get past whatever fucking mental block you’ve got, man,” Mark huffs as he takes a seat on the couch next to me.
“Sure, let’s ease right into it,” I say, attempting a laugh that sounds as hollow as I feel.
Mark runs a hand through his hair. He’s stressed—of course he is. “Edgelord” is the biggest adult film production since that pirates movie came out about years ago. That movie had an $8 million budget and a cast of twelve notable adult performers. “Edgelord” has a budget of $14 million and a cast of twenty performers.
Shit, I should also be stressed since Neon Nights is fronting the budget here. But I can’t get past this shit with Sabrina. Her presence on set is more than an irritation; it’s a goddamn nightmare.
“Frank—”
“Mark, call me Corey. Please. When we’re on set, I’m Frank. Here,” I gesture around the lonely trailer, “I’m just Corey.”
“Okay, Corey. I know things are shit with Sabrina—”
“That’s putting it mildly, Mark.” He throws his head back and rolls his eyes as he sighs dramatically. I let him have his moment before I continue. “I’m honestly not trying to be difficult, but we hardly broke up. She left me without an excuse or explanation, and it took me… a long fucking time to mentally get out of the hole she dug for me.”
Mark gives me a sympathetic look, but knowing that background isn’t going to magically fix the vibe on set. “What can I do? Beyond recasting, which we don’t have the budget or time for. What. Can. I. Do?”
Closing my eyes, I mull over my response. I probably need at least ten years of therapy, if I’m being honest, but we don’t have time for that. What’s the quickest solution to the issues I’m having right now?
I groan. “I hate to fucking ask this, but… I’m gonna need the pill.”
The pill. We don’t call it by name, and we don’t describe it, but when a male adult film star asks for “the pill,” it’s borderline humiliating.
Mark lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck,” he says, shaking his head. “I was ready for you to say you quit.”
Glaring at him, I bite out, “I have far more riding on the success of this film than you do, Savage.”
He holds his hands up in defense. “Corey, I know. And I respect the fuck out of that. And I respect you for being able to ask for the help you need.”
“This fucking sucks,” I grumble as I lower my face into my hands.
Mark slaps me on the back as he stands. “It’s not the end of the world, man. It happens to—”
“Don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence.”
“Sure thing. I’ll have Moira drop the… thing off in fifteen minutes. See you on set in thirty.”
The door bangs shut behind him, and I sigh heavily.
“Fuck me.”
My phone buzzes on the couch next to me, and I glance down—a candid picture of Bex I snapped while she was unaware at the hockey game last week. My chest aches at just the sight of her on my screen—her beauty and kindness, so clear to me, even when she’s not smiling directly at the camera.
I swipe to answer the call, knowing that I’m not in the right headspace, and definitely not the mood that Bex deserves. Our call is nowhere near long enough to satisfy my craving for her, especially since we couldn’t video chat. Couldn’t, or I simply wouldn’t, because we have a night shoot tonight, and I didn’t want her questioning why I was in a trailer.
I literally choke when she asks about upcoming movies. Guilt courses through me, and I know—I fucking know—I need to come clean. But, just like that morning we woke up in Vegas together, now just doesn’t feel like the right time. Soon. But not tonight.
There’s a soft knock at the door and I know it’s Moira with “the pill.” Hanging up with her hurts like a bitch, because I can hear the emotion in her voice, the way she sounds strained and broken. I resolve to text her later, after I finish this night’s shoot of shame .
I cross the trailer in two strides and whip the door open, expecting to just grab a cup and some water from Moira, but I’m brushed aside as a tall, ultra-thin woman in a fluffy robe barges past me.
“I’m on break, Rina,” is all I can grit out. I’m worried if I say more, I’ll snap, and we still have a long night of shooting ahead of us.
Sabrina Ryder is a force of nature—when we were together, I would say that in awe of her. Now? She’s still a force of nature, but in the annoying, cram herself down your throat kind of way. Talk over you so she can be the only one speaking. Using the line “I’m just being honest” as an excuse to be a bitch. Looking down at everyone on set who is not a lead, like her.
She stands in front of me, thinner than she was when we were together, her hair dyed a platinum blonde that makes her fake tan pop. Her body is composed of more plastic than anything natural, and despite the endless amounts of botox, I can see the fine lines emerging on her face beneath her heavy film makeup.
“Oh, Corey,” she purrs. She leans against the countertop with her hands in the pockets of her robe, her legs crossed at her ankle, allowing a large slit to expose her long legs.
Shutting my eyes, I shake my head. The image reminds me of Bex on the balcony of the Bravado penthouse and I cannot, I will not , think of Bex in the presence of Sabrina.
She waits for a moment, for a reaction that I don’t give her, before she says, “Why are you hiding in your trailer, stud?”
There’s an odd vibration of rage coursing through me, and I grit my teeth. “I’m. On. Break. Rina.”
She trills a laugh and my skin crawls. “Babe, you know I hate that nickname. Now, why are you hiding from me? ”
I laugh and hold my hand to my chest. “You’re such a narcissist, Rina. What makes you think I’m hiding from you?”
Sabrina arches a brow and eyes the empty trailer space. “Well, you’re hiding out here, alone. And I know what shit you used to get up to on breaks before…”
“Rina, it’s been over five years. More than that, since we’ve been on set together. So, whatever you think you know about me now, you don’t. Now. Get. Out.”
“Aw, Corey, don’t be so snippy.” Hands still tucked in her robe, she pushes off the counter and strides over to me. “You get broody sometimes when you’re nervous about a scene. Are you nervous about tonight, baby?”
She reaches a hand out as if to touch my arm, and I swat her away. “I’m not asking again.”
“Tsk, tsk,” she tuts. “You’re telling me you’re not looking forward to fucking my ass tonight? That used to be your favorite way to fuck.” Sabrina steps closer and I try to step back, but my back is quite literally against the wall.
“I’m trying not to be a dick, Rina, but I need you to back up. Whatever game you’re trying to play here, I’m not into it. I won’t ever be into it, not ever again.” I take a deep breath and shut my eyes. “Can you just… accept that we’re here to work, and get. The. Fuck. Out.”
She reaches back into the pocket of her robe and pulls out a medication container, shaking it. “Maybe I didn’t realize I was working with such a pussy tonight.”
“Rina—”
Sabrina steps back and tosses the container at my face. I catch it before it can land a blow to my face, and she scoffs. “What the fuck happened to you? You used to be hot, hard, and always ready to fuck. What the fuck is this, Corey?” She gestures toward the container in my hand.
I bark a laugh and pocket the pills. “What? Are you upset you just don’t do it for me anymore?”
Her glare is capable of lighting me on fire. “Fuck you, Corey. I do it for everyone, so if you need medical assistance to get it up—”
“You did what you came to do, Rina. You cut with your words and delivered the goods, now, again. Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
She huffs. “Fuck you, Corey.”
“Later, obviously.” I reach toward the door and hold it open for her.
Sabrina gathers herself and stands taller. It’s a technique she adopted when she first started out in the industry—she confessed to me at one of the first movies we filmed. It’s a defensive behavior, meant to intimidate, because at full height, she’s easily five-foot-ten. But I know her techniques, and I know her tells, and she’s not fooling me.
She pauses at the door, one foot descending on the top step before she turns to me again. Her expression is different now. It’s softer, her eyes filled with emotion—whether it’s authentic or fake, I can’t tell, and I don’t have the patience to ponder it.
“I was hoping this week would be good for us, Corey. I know the way things ended weren’t… ideal—”
“You dumped me over text, Rina. Pretty sure that’s the farthest from ideal you could possibly fucking get.”
“Corey!” She presses her hand to my chest and I allow it, although it makes my skin crawl. “Let’s just… talk through shit this week, okay? We never got closure.”
If I grind my teeth any harder, I’ll have stumps instead of teeth. I have nothing to say to this, so I just remain stiff. I want to remind her the lack of closure is on her, but I’m not feeding this fucking fire .
When I don’t react or respond, Sabrina’s soft expression turns to a glare. “Take that fucking pill. I don’t want to fake fuck a soft cock.”
I slam the door shut behind her and angrily head for the fridge for a bottle of water. Fuck this fucking pill, fuck Sabrina, and fuck the distance between me and the only woman in the world who could bring me peace right now.