Message-ID: <53842asstr$1147583402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: 57bc646b!not-for-mail From: Magi <baner1@earthlink.net> X-Original-Message-ID: <tjlc62l22ig81mglrl6soaubiuicb00edv@4ax.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 13 May 2006 14:58:52 PDT X-Greylisting: NO DELAY (Relay+Sender autoqualified); processed by UCSD_GL-v2.1 on mailbox7.ucsd.edu; Sat, 13 May 2006 14:58:53 -0700 (PDT) X-Spamscanner: mailbox7.ucsd.edu (v1.6 Aug 4 2005 15:27:38, -1.6/5.0 3.0.4) X-MailScanner: PASSED (v1.2.8 33742 k4DLwqPo053994 mailbox7.ucsd.edu) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 13 May 2006 21:58:52 GMT Subject: {ASSM} "Pete" A Young Man's Story Chapter 84 Lines: 662 Date: Sun, 14 May 2006 01:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2006/53842> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, emigabe CHAPTER 84 It was almost noon by the time I got to the studio, and I pulled into the parking lot just in time to see Meg rummaging through the trunk of her car. I parked, and as I came up to her I said, "What's up, you trying to stash some lunch leftovers?" She looked up and said, "At last! I've been looking everywhere for you. I'm starving, and I was hoping to find some cookies or something. But now that you're here, we can get something decent to eat." I shook my head and said, "Hey! Where does it say that I have to feed you every day? Besides, what happened to all that food you got at the party Friday night?" Instead of answering me, she yelled, "C'mon," and ran off. I saw where she was going. A guy had just dropped off a studio bicycle at the parking lot, and she wanted to get to it before someone else did, so I ran after her. When we got there I got on, but instead of sitting on the luggage carrier behind me, she jumped onto the handlebar. Its difficult riding with a grown person perched up there, but the view of her butt was interesting, and I managed to keep us upright until we got to the grassy area in front of the lunch room. I must have hit the brake too hard, because she tumbled forward and landed on her back. I had to throw the bike down or I would have run over her, and I ended up on the grass a few feet from her. I sat up and looked over to see if she was okay, and as she was brushing grass off her pants, she glared at me and said, "Nice going, Lance Armstrong, this is going to cost you an extra dessert." I was about to reply, when a voice behind me cut in with, "Nice entrance Pete. But you don't have to throw her on the ground. Talk nice, and I bet she comes around." I was looking at Meg at the time, and when she glanced behind me her eyes got big, so I turned to see Jack Hedden standing there in his Rocketman costume, cape and all, munching on a sandwich. I answered, "Hi Jack," and I scrambled to my feet. I was helping Meg up, when he added, "I had dinner with your wife Saturday. She said if I saw you, to say hello." I turned to him, "Kristen's here in town?" "No, we were at a fund-raiser in Chicago." "How's she doing?" "Fantastically well, she's been playing to packed houses, and there's talk of a TV show." I made a mental note to ask Amy about it when I got home. Just then Meg poked me in the side, so I said, "Oh, uhh Meg, this is Jack Heddon." It was easy to see why all the girls were crazy about him. He's a really good-looking guy, and when I introduced Meg, he looked directly at her and flashed a huge smile. Then, without taking his eyes off her, he threw the last of his sandwich in a nearby trash can. Then he leaned close, stared into her eyes and said, "Oh yes, I remember Meg. Didn't we do a play together a few years ago?" Surprisingly, Meg quickly pulled her hands away and said, "No, we've never worked together. It's nice meeting you." He turned back to me, and with another big smile he said, "So Pete, Kristen tells me you're working on a show." "It's uhh, only a pilot." He did something odd, he put his hand on my shoulder, and let it rest there for a second before he said, "Well, if I can help you in any way, let me know," then he stepped closer, and in a whisper he added, "Nice to see you again," and he walked away. Once he was gone, Meg looked at me and asked, "Do you know everybody in the whole fucking world?" "I met him in Vegas a while back. But what's the deal with you? You pulled away from him like he was contagious." "He's gorgeous, but he's creepy. Did you see the way he was looking at both of us?" "You heard him; he thought you and he had worked together." "You have a lot to learn. He knows damn well he never worked with me. It's what a lot of people in this business say when they don't know you. They think it's a form of flattery." "So he was trying to flatter you?" "Sort-of. He doesn't know who I am, but I could be someone important to his career. If he snubbed me or was rude to me, it might come back to bite him. He's on top of the world right now, but that could all go away in an instant and he doesn't want to burn any bridges. But tell me something. Who is Kristen? Are you really married?" "She's Kristen Baker. We used to go together. When her career began, she said we were married to keep people from bothering her." "Kristen Baker! You used to go with Kristen Baker!" "Uh-huh." "Damn! I was right. You DO know everybody in the world." "You look impressed, but are you okay?" She raised an eyebrow, "I'm fine, why?" "You haven't mentioned food in almost five minutes." She hit me on the arm, and we went inside. We were eating, when my phone rang. It was Myrna Devon, and she asked, "Have you seen Meg?" "Yes, we're eating lunch." "I should have known. Let me talk to her." I handed Meg the phone, and after a bunch of nods and 'yes-ma'ams,' she handed me my phone back, and sat there looking a little dazed. Finally she said, "I'll be damned. You ARE going to buy my lunch for a while. Guess what! I'm onboard with your show." "Really, what part are you going to play?" "Not as an actor, I'm going to be helping you. The writers have come up with some changes." "But you're an actress, why don't they have a part for you?" "The show is about younger kids." "You look young. You're pretty; you have that cute nose and those freckles. Why can't they use you?" "Thanks, but this is a youth business. A seventeen year old can play a twenty-five year old, but nowadays, it doesn't happen the other way near as often as it used to. The Devon girls can do it for another year, maybe two. But they are starting to show their age." "I don't get it, they still look twelve years old!" "They look that way to you, but the camera picks up things you don't see." "So, how has my part changed?" "From what I hear, you were picked as the good-looking, slightly older, next door neighbor. You were important to the show, but only as a diversion for the girls, and you were not going to be seen a lot. Well, the backers saw the footage from the location shoot the other day, and they want to see more of you." "So, what's your part in this?" "I'm going to be your acting coach. I'll help you with your lines, tell you where to stand, how to move and things." "Do you know how to do stuff like that?" "Unfortunately, yes. I've studied this stuff my whole life. I've helped lots of people." "Why is it unfortunate?" "I've had to do it for the money. And in this business, if you get a reputation for doing something, people tend to only think of you that way. I've missed acting jobs because people only think of me as a coach." "Well, I don't think of you that way." She seemed surprised and asked, "Really, how DO you think of me?" I leaned close to her and stared into her eyes. Then I reached up and touched her hair. She had the last forkful of her second dessert halfway to her mouth, and she stopped and stared at me with her mouth open, until I said, "I think of you as a human garbage disposal." It took her a second to react. I think she considered throwing the last bite of dessert at me, but she quickly reconsidered and wolfed it down instead. When we finished I asked, "Okay what do we do now?" She replied, "Now the hard work begins. Come with me." I followed her to a small room not far from the lunchroom. It had nothing in it but a table and two chairs. On one end of the table was a stack of yellow note pads and a cup next to it was filled with pencils. After I sat down, she pushed a yellow tablet and a couple pencils in front of me and said, "Here's the deal. This is a pilot. Some people are risking a whole bunch of money on this, so a lot depends on how it comes out. If it gets picked up, they'll make their money back and a lot more. But, aside from that, it could mean work for a lot of people, so every part of it has to be as good as we can make it. When they first wrote the script, you didn't have a big part. The show is aimed at a younger audience, and you, for some unknown reason, are supposed to be eye-candy. I don't know what the new script is like. They're supposed to get me a copy this afternoon." I grinned, "Wadda ya mean, 'For some unknown reason?' What am I, Quasimodo, or something?" She immediately came back with, "No, he's better looking than you are. Now shut up, I do the talking here." For the next several hours, she told me about camera angles, lighting, and a seemingly unending string of general 'dos and don'ts', pausing after each point so I could write down what she said. Some of the things she spoke of were things the speech coach had mentioned, but coming from her they seemed to make more sense. It was almost three when her phone buzzed. After a brief conversation, she said, "That was Mrs. Devon. She has the script and she wants to go over it with me. She said she wants you to go see Mrs. Gibson; she has some things for you to pick up." "Okay, will I see you tomorrow?" "I don't know. From the way Mrs. Devon talked, it sounds like you're going to be busy." "Doing what?" "She didn't say. Remember, your name is Tom in this sketch. I'll see you later." I watched her leave, and as I gathered up my notes it occurred to me that all during the 'lesson', her flippant attitude was absent. She was serious about what she was doing and she was good at it. When I walked into Mrs. Gibson's room, she was at her desk working on some papers. When she saw me, she pointed to a chair and slid a large envelope in front of me. She said, "Pete, I want to talk to you about some things. The school year is nearly over, and I've contacted your teachers. Your grades are not what I would like them to be, but you're doing okay, and they've agreed to do something I would prefer you not spread around. The envelope has your school finals in it. It also includes a summary of the things that the questions are based on." Stunned, I asked, "Gee Mrs. Gibson, what is this all about?" She sat back and said, "Let me give you my Hollywood lecture. The entertainment industry is very big business. The name 'Hollywood' is world famous, and what went on there in the past went a long way to make Los Angeles what it is today. But, as I'm sure you know, today, very little actually goes on in Hollywood itself. Several of the older studios, like Paramount and us, are in the older parts of Los Angeles, but years ago, most studios moved to places like Burbank and the San Fernando Valley, where land was a lot cheaper. But they aren't that far away. Most major movie and TV studios are less than a half hour from here. So the profits from the tourism they bring in, and the taxes they pay, are vital to all of Los Angeles. This includes the 'Los Angeles Unified School District'. So, if it's late in the school year, and the grades have been okay, it's sort of normal for them to stretch the rules a little when school-age people are called to work in the entertainment industry." "Wow, I'm surprised. With all the rules the school has, I didn't think they did things like that." "Well, they do. Hollywood and the movie industry are magic words. If school board didn't go along with things like this, most young people, given the opportunities that you and your sister have, would just drop out of school. And if they failed the classes they might never go back." "So, when do I take the tests?" "We look at them tomorrow morning." "What! I can't possibly learn everything and take the tests by tomorrow morning!" "You already passed. You got an 82." Stunned, I stared at her for a minute before I asked, "How did that happen?" "Don't worry about it. It's based on your test scores for the year. It goes into your permanent record as though you actually took the tests. But I want you to come in tomorrow so we can look at the tests together. I'd like to go over the questions with you and discuss the answers." "Is that what LAUSD wants?" "No, it's what I want. You're not a straight-A student, but you're not too bad, and I don't want you to lose track of things. I'd like you to be here at Nine o'clock tomorrow morning. We should be finished by noon." "Is that enough time?" "It has to be, you have a location shoot tomorrow afternoon." "What about Erin? Are you going to help her too?" "No, she's working with someone else." Mrs. Gibson went back to her papers and I sat there for a minute trying to absorb everything, when a thought hit me. I asked, "Mrs. Gibson, are Erin and I finished with school this semester?" Without looking up she answered, "Yup, as far as school goes, your summer vacations started today." I walked to my car in a daze. Up until now, not having to go to school every day was an adventure. But when the realization that my finals were over and I was finished for this semester began to hit me, I was suddenly euphoric! I sat in the car for a while, trying to think about what I was going to do. Mrs. Devon said that work on the pilot would be finished in a couple of weeks, and I wouldn't be starting the modeling thing for a while. What would I do with my time? Thoughts of Sylvia jumped into my head, and for the first time, I began to get angry. How could she leave without even talking to me? I thought of her standing on the mountain, with the lights of the city reflected in her eyes, and I ached for her. I needed her. I missed holding her, touching her, making love to her. But she was gone, and the more I thought about her, the madder and more disappointed I got. I had to force myself to calm down before I drove home. The light was blinking on my answering machine when I got to my room. One call was from Jay, the rich guy from the airport. He asked me how I was, and if I had ever mentioned him to Marla. He left a phone number and asked me to call. The next one was from Digger Haynes, asking me to contact him, so I dialed his number. He answered on the second ring with, "Hi Pete." "How did you know it was me?" "Caller ID. The phone company gave me a talking telephone. Being blind has its advantages. So, how are you?" "I'm fine. What's up?" "Could you come over for a few minutes, I'd like to talk to you." "Sure, I'll be right there." I drove over, wondering what it was about, and when I got there he was standing in the doorway. When I walked up he said, "Hi Pete, come on in." I followed him inside, and after we sat down, I asked, "Did you actually see me?" "Not really, I see shadows and I was expecting you. That's one of the things I want to talk to you about." "Okay, what's up?" "Pete, I'm a damn good judge of character, and you seem to be a pretty good guy. Are you?" "Yes sir, I think so." "If I ask you some questions, will you answer me truthfully?" I feared what was coming, but I answered, "Yes sir, I will." He was quiet for a minute. Then he said, "Pete, Cindy has come home late two nights in a row. I didn't hear a car leaving, so she must have walked from wherever she's been. You live closer than anyone else. Has she been with you?" "I-uhh, yes sir." "She doesn't sleep when she gets home. I hear her TV on until morning. She's upset about something. Are you and she having sex?" "I uhh, well uhh, not really." "C'mon son, that's not an answer. I won't be mad if you are. Actually, it's about time she was." "No, we haven't had intercourse." "Then what's going on? What does, 'Not really' mean? I know she likes you, you're all she talks about. C'mon Pete, she hasn't slept in several days, and I'm concerned." "And you won't be angry with her if I tell you?" "No, I promise I won't." "Well I guess she has a crush on me. She came to my room the last two nights and wanted to, uhh --" "She wanted to have sex." "I guess so." "So, why didn't you?" "I like her, but not that way, and I don't want to mislead her. Did you know she's still a virgin?" "I suspected as much." "Cindy is really a great girl and I like her a lot. But she needs more than me. She's an exceptional person, and she should be with someone special." "You're not special?" "Not at all, I'm just a high-school kid." "So you passed up a sure thing because you like her?" What he said bothered me a little, and I said, "She's not a sure-thing, she's a girl who hasn't been around much, and I didn't want her to do something she'd regret. Besides, if I took advantage of her, I'd be ashamed of myself." He grinned and said, "You're okay, Pete. I'm surprised that there are still kids like you around. I knew something was up. I appreciate you telling me what happened. What do you think we should do about her?" "I don't know, but I bet Amy does. I'll talk to her about it and let you know what she says." "That's good, but what is there about Cindy that's missing?" "It's not that, Digger. I've been seeing someone else." "Oh. So how's that going?" "Not well. She decided to move on without me." "Well, don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." I chuckled to myself and said, "I'll try." "Good. Now, there are a couple other things. My eye condition was originally diagnosed as untreatable, but I just got word from the VA that a doctor in Long Beach came out with a treatment that looks promising. But we have a problem. With taxis, buses and things, Cindy and I get around pretty well, but Long Beach is a two hour ride each way on the bus. If I buy a car, could you teach Cindy how to drive?" "That sounds like great news. You don't have a car now?" "No." "How does Cindy get around?" "She walks, rides her bicycle, or takes the bus." I answered, "Yes, I'll be happy to. Do you have a car in mind?" "I want her to be safe, so I thought I'd get something new, but not too expensive." "I'll talk to my dad, he knows cars." "Great. Now, how are you going to deal with Cindy?" Suddenly a voice behind me said, "Why do I need to be dealt with?" Cindy was standing in the doorway looking curious. I was about to say something, but Digger beat me to it and said, "I want Pete to teach you how to drive, and I told him you can be pretty stubborn." "Drive! Why do I need to learn how to drive?" Digger began to tell her about what he heard from the VA, and as I watched her, I saw something I hadn't noticed before. Cindy has regular features, but she's so quiet and plain looking it's easy to overlook her in a crowd. But when she smiles or gets excited about something, her whole look changes. Her body language is different, her face lights up and she actually looks quite pretty. She was that way now, because Digger had just told her about the doctor. She was grinning and hugging him, and I watched the quiet, almost invisible girl I know from school change into a vibrant, attractive young woman. Is that how Jake saw her? It made me wonder if I was missing something. After things quieted down, Cindy said that when she went to get my homework, she was told that I was finished for this semester. Working in the school office, she was familiar with these kinds of things, and she wanted to know what I was working on. So, for the next hour we talked about the TV show and what the modeling job might entail. At one point Digger grinned, and said to Cindy, "A model eh, is he that good-looking?" When she replied, "Oh yes Grampa, he really is," His smile faded, he put his hand on her shoulder, and looked concerned. The conversation got quieter after that, and when Cindy mentioned that it was getting close to dinner time, we decided that we would start the driving lessons after school tomorrow. When I started for my car, Cindy came along, and after I got in, she came to the window and said, "Last night was amazing. Can I, umm, see you later?" It was time I dealt with this, so I answered, "When's the last time you slept?" It took her a minute before she said, "Why, do I look bad?" "No, you just look tired. How did you get home when you left my place?" "I walked. Why?" "It's nearly three blocks to your house, and it was after one o'clock when you left. I don't want you doing that anymore." "Are you angry?" I stepped out of the car, took her hands in mine, and I said, "Yes I am. I don't want you walking by yourself that late at night. This is a nice neighborhood, but people could be driving by, and a girl walking alone is a target." "Why do you care?" "I care because you're a great girl. I like you, and I don't want you to be harmed. As I said before, I don't think I'm the right guy for you, romantically, but I want us to be friends. Digger has asked me to teach you how to drive, so we are going to be spending time together, and I don't want it to be uncomfortable." She looked down at the ground for a minute before she stunned me by saying, "I've done things with you I've only dreamed about. What if I said I want to be with you just for, uhh, sex?" She looked sad when she said it, and my heart went out to her. It was against my better judgment, but I took her in my arms and held her, then I said, "You sweet, wonderful girl. I can't tell you how flattered I am, but you don't want to do that." "But all the girls say that the only way to get and keep a boy is to have sex with him. If I, umm, don't, will you still like me?" "Of course I will. The promise of sex is not the reason I like you. It's because you're so special, and I want you to save yourself for someone who is just as special." "You are special. No one like you has ever paid attention to me before." "But Cindy, I'm out of school for the rest of the year, and I really don't know where this modeling thing is going to take me. I might not even be around." She was holding me tightly when she said, "I know you don't want to be with me, but except for Digger, I have nobody else." I held her at arm's length, looked straight at her, and in a gruff but even voice I said, "Don't ever say that again. I DO want to be with you. I want to be with you as a friend. And you have other friends as well. Erin and Amy are both your friends and I'll bet Jake would like to be more than friends." "He hasn't called." "I'll talk to him and find out why. And as far as tonight goes, there's something I want you to do." She jerked her head back, looked up at me, and said, "Really, what is it?" "I want you to go to bed early and get a good night's sleep." I looked to see if she was disappointed, but she actually seemed a little relieved. I drove home wondering what was going through her mind. I'm sure I did the right thing by not agreeing to have sex with her, but we had done some things in bed that we shouldn't have, and she needs someone to talk to, about what happened. Marla came to mind, and I made a mental note to talk to her about it. When I got home, Dad was there. He said the girls had called to say they were going shopping, so we made do with some leftover stew. It was nice being alone with Dad, and we ended up have a beer with our dinner. I asked him if he could come along and help pick out a car for Cindy, but he said he was leaving tomorrow for Chicago, and he would be gone for several weeks, qualifying in a new airplane. Then he mentioned that our plane had been sitting for a while, and if I had some time I should give it a general cleaning and fly it around for a while. It's not a good idea to let a plane sit idle too long. Seals tend to dry up, and gasoline gets old, so I told him I'd get to it as soon as I could. After dinner I hit the exercise machine, and I had a pretty good sweat going when the phone rang. It was Marla, and she said, "Well, I had a long talk with Kelly. I think we're closer now than at any time of our lives, and I feel great about it. What happened the other night was pretty sobering, and I think she learned some lessons. She said she'd talk to me before she did anything stupid like that again, and I believe her." "Good. So how are things going at work?" "Unbelievable! Tammy is so smart it's scary. She has plans to take WE nationwide, and La Jolla just the beginning." "How did you and Monique get along?" "We got along fine, but she's kind-of strange. She's the most beautiful girl I ever saw, and everywhere we went, guys would stare at her, but instead of talking to her, they would wait until Tammy or I were alone, and they would ask us about her. I guess she was used to it, because she told us to say she was unavailable." "I hear that happens to really pretty girls. Guys are afraid to ask them out, because they are afraid of rejection. I bet that happens to you, as well." "Thank you. Do you really think I'm pretty?" "Of course I do, you're a knock-out." "Then why don't you want to be my boyfriend?" "C'mon Marla, we've been over this. You'd get tired of me in no-time. But speaking of boyfriends, how's it going with that guy in La Jolla?" "He's been pushing pretty hard. He calls me a couple times every day, and today he sent me two dozen roses." "Wow, he sounds like he might be a keeper." "I don't know. All we've done so-far is have coffee together, but I know he wants more." "What kind of more?" "He wants us to go on a real date, and he'll probably eventually want to sleep with me." "So, what's the problem?" "You wouldn't mind if I slept with him?" "I prefer not to think about it. I want what's best for you. As I said before, I'm not mature enough to be the person you deserve to be with. I don't know where my life is going. This guy sounds like he does. He's a grown-up. He's the kind of person you can have a future with." "I know Pete. I know what you're saying is right, but I'm still a little scared." "Scared of what?" "Of how things were before I met you. You changed my life more that you know. I never felt as safe as I did when I was with you, and I don't know if I can feel that way with someone else." "Maybe you're rushing things a little? I think the guy is asking for a date, not a life commitment." "I don't know. He umm, seems pretty intense." "Well, if you're worried, tell him to forget it." "Maybe you're right. It's just that, I'm uhh, going to be a little lonesome down there." "When are you going back?" "Monique and I are going back there Friday. I'll be interviewing girls all weekend, and she's going to do an interview on a radio station." Suddenly I had an idea, and I said, "Tell you what. Let me see how the week goes. Maybe I can fly down there over the weekend and check this guy out. You can tell him I'm your cousin or something." "That sounds great. If you can stay overnight, the girls and I can share you?" "Huh? I didn't know you were into..." "Relax, I'm only kidding, I won't share you with anyone. Besides, I'm not sure Monique is into guys." "Why? Did she make some moves on you?" "No, I'm not sure what her story is. She never talks about sex at all. The three of us were sitting around in our pajamas one night, and Tammy and I started talking about you. As soon as we did, she got up and left the room." "So, what did you do?" "We dragged her back and pestered her until she told us that she'd only had one experience with sex. She wouldn't say anymore about it, but we got the impression it was with you. Was it?" "You better ask her." "HAH! We figured it was you. What happened, did it turn out badly?" "If she wants you to know more, she'll tell you. Let's change the subject. Talk to me about you. Have you been to the clinic lately?" She sighed before she said, "No, I haven't been there for a while. I don't have much time since my life has turned around." "I bet they miss you." "I guess so, they've called a couple of times and left messages. I like to think I did some good when I was there." We talked a few more minutes, and after we hung up I thought about what we talked about. In the last couple of days, I had been turned down by someone I really cared about, and I had turned down two girls who obviously cared about me. I'd heard that relationships could be difficult, but I didn't realize how difficult. But Sylvia kept creeping into my mind, and I had to get back on the exercise machine to clear my head. But when I got into bed I could see her beautiful face, and when I finally fell asleep I dreamt of her. The next morning, I was on the way to the house to have breakfast, when I noticed a long black limousine pulling out of our driveway. When I got inside, Mom, Dad and Amy were sitting at the kitchen table, and they all seemed to be smiling. When I asked what was going on, Mom answered, "The studio sent a limo for Erin. It seems your sister is a VIP," and for the next few minutes we sat around shaking our heads. After breakfast Dad and I went over a few things he'd like me to do around the house while he was gone, and after I kissed him goodbye, I headed for the studio. I got there at eight o'clock, and for three hours, Mrs. Gibson and I reviewed the tests. Amazingly, I learned a lot by going over everything with her. Time passed so fast I was surprised when Meg came and got me. During our mandatory lunch she kept looking at her watch, and just before one o'clock I followed her to a parking lot, where a van was waiting. Once we were inside I asked where we were going, and Meg gave me an address that wasn't far from our house. When I asked why we were in a van instead of driving ourselves, she said, "For the time being you're the property of the studio. It's a way they have to keep track of you, and make sure you get to where you belong. When I mentioned that they had sent a limo to the house for Erin, and she grinned and said, "On this project she's a big cheese. You're just Velveeta." When we got to the shooting site there was a line of trucks half a block long. Two houses had huge trucks in their driveways, and a million electrical lines ran from them and disappeared in and around the houses. Meg went up to a guy with a beard, who handed her some papers, and we went to a dressing room trailer similar to the one at the other filming. Once inside, we sat down and Meg read the changes in the script. After a minute, she chuckled and said, "Well, there are a few changes. You have another line, and you have a close-up, but nothing too complicated." "So, why are you smiling?" "Originally you were supposed to be cutting the lawn at the house next to where the twins live. The twins come out, watch you for a while and make some comments about you. You see them, stop, wipe your brow and say, "Hi girls, warm isn't it," then you continue cutting the lawn. Well, this time, after you say how warm it is, they're going to ask you how you've been. You take a few steps toward them and say, 'I'm fine, girls, thanks for asking.' Then you stoop down, pick up a stone, flip it away, and go back to the mower." "So, what's funny about that?" "Originally you were wearing jeans and a t-shirt. This time you're not wearing a shirt." What went on next took several hours. The first stop was the wardrobe trailer, where they fitted me with a pair of tattered, tight-fitting jeans and some well-worn boots. When I came out, Meg was standing with two guys. She told me to stop, and they talked for a minute, then they called a guy over, trimmed my hair a little, and applied a jell of some sort. Then I went to the make-up trailer, where a woman and a helper applied make-up to my upper body, arms, and face. When I saw myself in a mirror I was shocked. The bronze, muscular, guy staring at me looked like something out of one of those body-building magazines. Aside from the bronze look, they had applied make-up to accentuate my muscles and put shading on my stomach that made me look like I was sporting a real 6-pack. When I came out of the trailer, Meg looked me up and down, nodded, and said, "Not bad." Next, we went to the back yard of one of the houses. It was a large yard, with a manicured lawn. A low wall with a gate in it separated it from the house next door. The gate was open and the yard next door was full of people. There were lights, reflectors, and a large camera was sitting on a dolly of some sort. The guy with the beard that Meg had talked to earlier was talking with some people, and when he saw us, he motioned to a guy holding a stool. The guy came through the gate, put the stool down, and said to me, "Have a seat." Then he added, "Are you warm enough? Can I get you a drink?" When I said I was fine, he said, "If you need something, let me know, I'll be right back," and he scurried away. Meg went next door and talked to the 'beard'. So I sat on my stool, wondering what to do next. Then they came to our yard, walked to a place on the lawn and it looked like 'beard' was putting down golf tees. A minute later, the 'stool' guy returned, pushing an old-fashioned, reel-type lawn mower. I could see when he came up that the blades were set so high it wasn't cutting anything, but it made all the right noises. Then Meg motioned to me, and for about half an hour, I pretended I was cutting the lawn. I would start at the house and 'cut' a straight line to a yellow golf tee, where I would stop, pull a cloth from my pocket, dab at my face and say, "Warm isn't it." I did that about a dozen times, stopping at different places, when Meg called "Stop." At one point 'beard' nodded, Meg put down a golf tee, and said, "Okay, this is your mark. Stop here from now on." She was obviously taking instructions from the beard, but he never said anything directly to me. Finally she went to the other side of the bushes, and the next time I came by, she said, "Hi Tom." I stopped and said, "Warm, isn't it," and she motioned for me to come toward her. I took a few steps and she held up her hand. I stopped, she looked at 'beard', he nodded, and she came around the bushes and put down another golf tee. She then went back and said, "How've you been, Tom?" I answered, "Fine girls, thanks for asking," and Meg said, "Okay, stoop down, pick up a stone and flip it into the bushes. Do it slowly." "There umm, aren't any stones." "There will be. Just pretend for now." We did that a couple times, and Meg said, "Okay, go to your trailer. Don't lean against anything, or you'll smudge your make-up. I'll come and get you in a little while." I went to the trailer and sat on the edge of the couch. I felt silly sitting there, but it wasn't long before Meg came and got me. This time there were at least fifteen people standing around. Even though it was daylight, there were large lights and several reflectors pointed in my direction. A make-up person dabbed at me a few times, then Meg said to grab the mower, and I stood there waiting. A few minutes later Rose and Lily showed up. Mrs. Devon and several guys were with them, and when they saw me they waved. The girls stood there while some make-up people hovered over them, then the 'beard' yelled, "Run through" and everyone cleared away. For the first time today, the beard talked to me. He said, "Okay Pete, start your run," and I pushed the mower toward the first golf tee. Just before I got there, in unison, the girls said, "Hi Tom." It surprised me a little when they said it. When we were practicing, Meg was saying it in a monotone. When the girls said it, they sounded like they were really talking to me, and it was actually easier to respond by saying my lines. We did that several more times, and finally 'beard' said, "Let's try one," and as soon as he did, a guy ran up with an atomizer and sprayed my chest and arms with warm water. When he finished, I felt like I was covered with perspiration. We did the whole sequence four times in a row before 'beard' said, "Print," and when he did, the girls turned and immediately left. I stood around for a second, wondering what to do next, when Meg ran up and said, "Hold on for a minute." I stood there for a few minutes, then 'beard' came back and said, "Go through the mowing sequence again." I ended up doing it several more times, then I picked up imaginary stones, and flicked them into the bushes a bunch of times, but this time the camera guys were filming. Finally 'beard' said, "Thanks Pete," and the second he left, the stool guy ran up and put a terry robe over my shoulders. Meg followed me back to my trailer, and when I sat down I guess I looked a little overwhelmed, because she grinned and said, "So, how does it feel to be an actor?" I replied, "The acting part is easy. I'm blown away by all the attention I got." "They treat you pretty good, don't they?" "Do they do that with everyone?" "That's nothing compared to how they look after the lead actors. You have a small part, so you had one guy. The leads get a whole bevy of helpers. They treat the actors like stars. Everyone else is treated like shit. It's even worse on a movie set." "What do you mean?" "You know those big productions where the stars get millions? Well, except for the supporting characters, almost everyone else gets minimum wage. But enough of that, I need to know something. You seemed very comfortable out there. You weren't nervous at all. How come?" "I didn't know I was supposed to be nervous. It was like when we used to play cops and robbers when I was a kid. Staying in character is what made things fun." She grinned, shook her head, and said, "Well, I guess that's one way to look at it." "So, what happens now?" "That's it for today. Go to wardrobe and change clothes, I'll meet you at the van." I went to wardrobe and collected my clothes. There was a mirror in the dressing room and I kept looking at it as I changed. All I could see was Sylvia's face, looking back at me. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+