“Preed’s an asshole,” I say as I dance with Pravat. The viewing of the episode left us both in good moods, feeling sure the series will be a hit. “How in the hell did you stand working with him?”
“It wasn’t easy. But it’s better not to provoke him. A lot of people in the business believe his bullshit. If P’Tida hadn’t given me this chance, I wouldn’t be acting anymore.”
I make a face. “Yes, you would. You’re good. P’Tida was just smart enough to see that.”
Pravat shakes his head but smiles.
Grinning back, I move closer to him, our bodies brushing against each other as we dance.
“I think someone exaggerated when he said he couldn’t dance during our first workshop,” I say as we move together to the sultry beat.Knowing him as I do now, it doesn’t surprise me at all that he went to such lengths to make me feel comfortable that day.
“Caught me.” Hand on my waist, Pravat tugs me out of the way of a couple moving past us. I’m a little flustered being so close to him in this setting, but when the music slows and his palm slides to the center of my back, I relax into him.
Fingers stroking my skin through my shirt and hips rocking gently against mine in time to the beat, Pravat locks gazes with me, and for a moment the music and other noises mute and all I can hear is the beating of my heart.
What is this thing between us? Stronger than friendship, but still undefinable.
“Sometimes…” Pravat begins, and I catch my breath, waiting. But he shakes his head and falls quiet, so I settle my head on his shoulder.
Evidently, he doesn’t have the words to describe us either.
It’s close to two in the morning when Pravat drops me off at home. I make my way through the quiet house to my bedroom and take off my clothes before slipping into bed. I caught Preed staring at me several times over the course of the evening. I couldn’t regret my earlier rudeness to him. He was an asshole to Pravat.
Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath and let it out, thinking about the episode we watched. I can’t believe the series is over. On the whole, I’m proud of the work I put into it. Some of the scenes were very difficult for me, and not just the ones that required me to cry. One in particular sticks in my mind:
“I know this is potentially embarrassing, Rama. But you’ve been a consummate professional so far. You can do this. I suspect not having Pravat beside you makes it even more difficult, hmm?”
I’ve spent several sleepless nights worrying over how I’m going to manage this scene. It isn’t easy to erase the knowledge of a dozen or so people in the room, the bright lights, cameras, and the microphone looming over my head as I stand in my underwear in a shower stall and try to look as though I’m having a personal moment. And Tida’s right—Pravat’s presence makes it so much easier to sink into my role. When we filmed an intense love scene the week before, Pravat and I were practically naked together on the bed as he dragged his lips down my chest. And I’d been so into my role, I got hard despite all the eyes on us. Fortunately, there was a blanket between us and I was spared the embarrassment of everyone seeing.
“Submerge yourself in the role,” Maha directs as I step into the shower stall. “Atid is very much in love with Kusa and, of course, extremely attracted to him. If that doesn’t work for you, let your mind go other places for what you need. I don’t want you to worry about any physical response you might have. Everyone in this room has filmed this kind of scene dozens of times and understands completely.”
I nod, knowing it’s true but not feeling much easier for it, and slip out of my robe.
As the sound crew position a microphone so it’s dangling a few feet above my head, I take a deep breath and let it out, wondering how in the hell I’m going to make it look like I’m touching myself and getting off with all these people standing around me.
My anxiety rises when, after calling for the scene to begin, Maha almost immediately has to stop it.
“Rama, you don’t look like a man who’s alone in the shower,” he says.
A laugh escapes me. “That’s because I’m not.”
The crewchuckles with me, breaking the tension in the room, and I sober and say, “Sorry. Just give me a second.”
Closing my eyes, I center myself. This time when Maha calls for the scene to begin, I lean my head back on the tiled wall, lips parting as I slowly slide my hand down my chest, scrambling to think of something to take my mind off how crowded this bathroom is right now.
“Cut!”
My eyes pop open and, confused, I look to where Maha and Tida are standing in front of the monitor.
“There’s a shadow on his face,” Tida says, and a scramble ensues to get rid of it while I struggle to get back into the role.
Maha calls for the next take.
Leaning my head back, I try imaging my ex-girlfriend, but all I can think about is the last fight we had about how I didn’t care about her feelings. So, I try conjuring up the previous bedroom scene I did with Pravat—the way it felt to have his body covering mine and his hardness against my thigh. My breathing picks up. Good. This is working. Knowing the camera is focusing on my face and upper body, I begin moving my arm in the motion of beating myself off. The sound of my breathing seems loud in the tiled shower, but the memory of Pravat’s lips brushing my abs allows me to block it out enough to lose myself. Before I know it, Maha’s calling to stop the scene.
Confused, I blink into the bright lights. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You did everything right. We’re done,” Maha says, smiling.