Chapter 6: Caught

Shockingly, though, even though Orlando caught me breaking character, he doesn't say anything. I lock my gaze onto the tablet again, but I still sense him watching me. It feels like someone is undressing me piece by piece, stripping me completely bare. Is that how all directors look at you? Like they're peeling you apart and piecing you back together again? Like they're measuring and weighing you and imagining things about you that you've never imagined of yourself?

It's hard having someone look at you like that. It's harder still when the person in question is incredibly attractive, and when you're hyperaware of the fact that you aren't wearing any underwear. I'm not sure whether to be nervous or turned on.

Perspiration begins to bead on my skin again, and I redouble my attention on my tablet.

Eventually, after what feels like forever - in reality, I think it comes out to roughly thirty-seven takes - Orlando decides he's happy with the scene. He relaxes back in his chair, and I swe