STORY 17: PRACTICING A SCRIPT WITH MY HOUSEBOY(I)

Chapter 1 I had been staring at the script for almost an hour, reading and rereading the same damn page, and the line still felt stiff on my tongue. Tomorrow we had to shoot a pivotal scene, the one where I finally kiss Marissa’s character for the first time. On paper it was simple, a kiss. But in my head it was pressure. The director wanted it real, not some half-assed peck. He wanted emotion, heat and connection, fuck that director, our chemistry was already strong, I don't really understand why we have to kiss again. The problem was, I had not kissed anyone in months. I lived in this big house, kept my distance from most people. The last woman I had dated had dumped me a year ago, she said I wasn't too intimate with her, and to be honest, I wasn't. I only peck her on her lips, no deep kisses or so. My mouth was dry, my confidence shaky. I tossed the script down on the ctable with a sigh. “This is useless.” From the kitchen came the sound of running water, the faint clink of dishes.