Free On Set by Billy London

 
    On Set
     
     
    His purpose wasn’t at all revenge, Sean McNeil thought, watching his prey step out onto the set. It was more of an exercise to open her eyes to the world he inhabited, the one she was so quick to judge. If they both got a little pleasure out of it, good for them. Or rather, me .
    His producer had raised eyebrows at the thought of a film critic on set, moreover being an extra, but Sean persuaded him otherwise. “She hasn’t been my greatest fan of late. The budget is so tight with this production any good publicity will help. A sneak peek will do wonders, I promise you.”
    His producer acquiesced. Whether from Sean’s words or the rather obvious crush he had on him, Sean didn’t know and didn’t particularly care. He was getting his way. Hence, why Melanie Beckford, critic for Epic Magazine and all-round film bible was dressed as a barefooted fairy and dusted with glitter. He nearly started beating his chest, King Kong -like but that would indeed give the game away.
    She followed the assistant director who formally introduced them. Sean didn’t take his eyes from Melanie, her skin as smooth and polished as an acorn. “Hello, Mr McNeil.”
    “That’s very formal, considering you called me a lazy visual prostitute after my last film.”
    He could tell she was blushing, burgundy slashing over her dark cheekbones. “Er, that. Right.”
    “Call me Sean,” he insisted, holding out his hand to her. As soon as she placed her hand in his, he slowly stroked his thumb over the pad of her own. Hurriedly, she removed her hand and cleared her throat.
    “So what’s the scene I’m doing?”
    “You’re not doing a scene, you’re doing me.”
    Her mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon.”
    “A little fairy orgy. I thought it would help you to understand why sex scenes are so difficult but they can add to the film.”
    “There’s no orgy in A Midsummer’s Night Dream .”
    “There is in this production, making male fairies sexy,” the director interrupted. “Hello, Melanie. You look fantastic. Are you ready for your first film?”
    Her eyes were wide open and he told himself her immediate panic was not at all amusing. “I just don’t think this is appropriate. Isn’t there another scene I can take part in?”
    “'Fraid not,” Sean said, making the sort of sincere face of apology that had gained him awards. “It’ll help with your blogging. It’s not as easy as it looks to be gratuitous.”
    “I promise, Melanie,” the director smarmed again, “it’ll be all very tasteful.”
    “Can we get rid of the wig?” Sean demanded, his eyes narrowing on the curly confection on Melanie’s head.
    “Absolutely. Back to hair and makeup, Melanie. We’ll need you in half an hour.”
    The director turned away, calling over his assistant. Melanie hadn’t moved. “You’ll have to hurry,” Sean prompted. “Time is money.”
    She glared at him. Had he been a more superstitious person, he would have sworn there was a hint of red in her pupils. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
    “You wanted in, Melanie,” he reminded her softly. “This is your in. By the way are you wearing any panties?”
    She blinked rapidly. “What?”
    “Underwear. You’ll have to take them off.”
    She visibly swallowed before she could answer him. “But we’re not really going to...”
    “All for show. Can’t really have you sporting any high street goods on screen. Advertising standards and all. Be quick now.”
    He watched her turn and practically run back to the hair and makeup trailer. No, none of this was at all for revenge.
     
    ***
     
    Melanie was panicking, panicking, panicking, panicking, like she had never done before. The hairdresser was so accommodating, removing her wig and curling her short hair with tongs, before running his fingers through them. “Sean was right, you look better without the wig.”
    Sean was playing Puck and obviously they’d decided there needed to be a serious amount of