Behind The Scenes Dazed And Confused Novels & Stories

A line of people stretched down the block, laughing too loudly, dressed like they were trying to forget their day jobs. I wanted to turn around and go home. Instead, I followed Nyx through the back entrance. Backstage smelled like perfume, hairspray, body lotion, and the particular brand of desperation that came with trying to look expensive on a budget. Girls moved past us in various states of glitter and bravado. Someone was laughing. Someone else was arguing with a stage manager about song choice. The whole place pulsed like a living thing. Nyx fixed the back of my top for the third time. “Stop fidgeting. You look hot.”

I didn’t notice all of this when I innocently clicked then watched the first five seconds months ago, immediately closing it the second I realised what it was. The camera angle is weird, like it’s propped lazily on a shallow drawer or wall, properly hidden and clearly out of Dre’s line of sight. Another bastard— or the same bastard (Nathaniel) recording Dre yet again without her consent. Dre is on all fours, bent over with her back arched. Her face is perfectly clear, her eyes are half-lidded, her lips parted. The guy behind her has his face blurred out deliberately, just a hazy shape. His hands grip her hips as he thrusts into her from behind.

I groaned low and dragged the pillow over my face, burying myself beneath it like I could smother the pain into submission. How did I even get back to my room last night? The question slammed into me with the same weight as the nausea curling low in my stomach. My brain was a sluggish mess, thoughts dragging through fog and sludge. Only broken fragments surfaced—hazy, out of order, and sharp around the edges. There’d been music. Loud. Pulsing. People laughing. Dancing. Olivine. His friends. The shots. Goddess, the shots. I remembered laughing too hard at something Zaden said, tipping sideways over my seat, then raising another shot glass like it was some kind of trophy. After that, things un

I wasn't that bored. I ambled my eyes around. There was a narrow aisle near the changing room. My wit started to send me ideas. I randomly picked the dress and went to the changing room. I was about to step in, I looked back at my people. My eyes narrowed, when they didn't catch him. I left the handle of the door and backed out. Inadvertently, my back bumped into someone. I turned on my heels and Duante was standing behind me. My heart started to hammer in my chest.

She needed the air, needed the movement to clear her head. Everything that had happened in the restaurant replayed vividly in her mind. She still couldn’t believe how close she’d come to having sex with her boss—inside a restaurant restroom, of all places. “I know what you’re hiding, Kenzie,” Aaron’s voice sounded behind her. She froze mid-step.

Narrowing her eyes in confusion, Desiree went back to her seat and sat down with the others here for the interview. As the man arrived through the hallway, many people surrounded him at once, informing him of today's projects and other supposedly important things. Curiosity piqued in Desiree, and she tried to catch his glimpse, but the crowd around him didn't let her. Soon, he was out of her sight, and everybody released the breath they were holding in unison. Is it too late to run now? For the next few minutes, Desiree kept sitting there like a statue, too anxious to even breathe. After about fifteen minutes, her name was called for the interview, and her heart started racing in her chest.

ARIA’S POV As the day of the much-anticipated fashion show dawns, I find myself immersed in a whirlwind of emotions. Stepping into the bustling backstage area, I am immediately enveloped in a frenzy of activity and excitement. Surrounded by a flurry of last-minute arrangements, my senses are overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the bustling backstage scene. Seamstresses scurry about, putting the finishing touches on exquisite garments, while makeup artists and hairstylists work tirelessly to perfect each model's look. The air is thick with the scent of hairspray and perfume, mingling with the faint hum of chatter and music.

Helen snapped before storming out. Laura stood frozen, her voice trembling as she whispered, “Be – Behind me?” The confusion was too much. Jerry’s fists clenched in response, and the tension in the room was intense.

Director Charles uttered in one go and ended his statement with a question. "Yes," the filming crew said in unison. "Now, go get dressed. There are rooms booked for the actors and actresses at the other edge of the market" Director Charles said to the filming crew before they all dispersed to go get changed.

Dana was muddling through her nightmare. She watched the Ben sitting and chatting in a conference room filled with people… the strange thing was the dress code was bizarre- some in suits, professional to the toe, some in military uniforms, some in smart casual and floral dresses, one was even dressed in a bridal gown. They were all laughing and talking one minute… the next minute the building exploded…. Debris floated everywhere … the glass walls shattered, piercing everything around it... Dana was flung to the side but unhurt. She touched her herself and found to be unscathed and in one piece.