Love Scenes.
It's raining again when he steps out of his class, the freezing kind of rain that cuts through his heavy jacket and soaks him in seconds. Gale pulls his collar up around his neck, cursing his own stupidity for leaving his hat and gloves in his dorm room that morning. He just wants to go back to his dorm, and change into some sweats and play a little Call of Duty. Actually, what he really wants is to go home, and eat a bowl of his mom's chilli around the kitchen table with his siblings; but the dorm room is a tempting alternative. Not to be however; he has a casting to get to.
Class had gone over the allotted time, eating into the fifty minutes he has to make it to his casting, and the rain is just going to make it harder to be on time. He contemplates not going, but quickly pushes that thought out of his mind. This is a good paying job, and could lead to more.
He sets off towards the subway station at a brisk pace, his portfolio under his arm and pulls out his phone to see just how long he has to make it across town. He has forty minutes, which is barely enough time; but he also has seven missed calls from his agent's office and that's enough for him to pause in a doorway and return the call. His agent normally calls once and knows that Gale will call back. Something's got him excited.
"Hawthorne," Seneca's voice, booms down the line. "How would you like to spend the weekend on the Florida Keys?"
Gale casts a glance upwards at the dark, heavy sky that only promises more rain. He doesn't ask any questions. "I'm there."
It's only when he lands in Florida that he starts to think he maybe should have asked a few questions. He's met at the airport by a heavily tattooed young woman who introduces herself as Fulvia, the director's assistant.
"Wait, director?" he asks.
And that's when he learns that this shoot isn't a modeling assignment; it's for a music video.
"A music video?" he racks his brain to remember auditioning for a music video and comes up blank. "I think there's been a mistake, I'm not an actor." Or shit, what if they want him to dance? "Or a dancer." He can dance, but there's no way he's doing it on camera. Ever.
Fulvia laughs at the panic in his eyes. "Don't worry, you won't have to dance. And there's not much acting involved either."
He slumps a little in relief. "Who is it for?" he asks. "I don't remember trying to book any music videos."
"Oh, no," Fulvia waves her hand dismissively. "We didn't audition anybody. We looked at some pictures and Madge liked yours best."
Gale frowns. Who the fuck is Madge?
Fulvia reads the confusion on his face. "Madge as in Madelyn Undersee. It's her video. Are you familiar with her music?"
He can't help grimacing. "Uh, yeah. I have a seven year old sister."
Now he's really wishing he'd asked what this was for before getting on the plane in New York. He should have said no and gone to the jeans commercial casting. He's not exactly picky about what jobs he books - Modeling is a means to an end for him; but he really doesn't want to be the guy in a cheesy pop princess' cheesy video. He can just imagine his friend's reaction to this already. It's going to make the teasing he got from that toothpaste ad look mild.
But he's here now, and has no choice but to make the best of it, so he hides his distaste and asks "So, I'm not dancing, and not acting. What will I be doing?"
Fulvia grins. "Looking hot, and making out with Madge. Steamier than just making out, probably. You'll be in bed the whole time." He must make a face because she frowns. "What? Your agent said you wouldn't have a problem doing love scenes."
"I don't have a problem doing a love scenes with adults, but isn't she sixteen." He thinks it's too creepy; he's twenty-one and looks older and the image he has of Madelyn Undersee is of a young girl who dresses like his baby sister wishes she could dress.
"She's nineteen actually. I thought the same as you though, when I first heard the treatment for the video." Fulvia rolls her eyes. "Her record company spent the last three years marketing her as a bubble-gum, pop princess but all her fans are eleven year old girls, so they've decided she needs to be sexy to attract an older following."
He's still frowning, so Fulvia adds. "You've nothing to worry about. We're going to stop at the shoot first because Madge and Plutarch want to meet you; you can see for yourself."
The car takes them to a quiet, tree-lined street and pulls up in front of a large house. Fulvia leads him inside. The house is beautiful and spacious but with the large crew and all their equipment it's a tight squeeze. They come to a large room where all the focus is on a grand piano. Gale notes there are no billowing white drapes and a complete absence of candles. It gives him hope that this won't be as cheesy as he's imagining.
They're immediately hushed as the director is about to call action. Gale perches on a ledge and Fulvia stands beside him. "They're going to run through the whole song, so you'll get to hear it all," she whispers to him.
Gale nods as silence falls on set.
"Roll playback… and, action."
From a corridor off to the left, Madelyn Undersee enters,wearing only a too-large t-shirt that shows off her long legs and displays one bare shoulder. Her hair is loose down her back, heavily styled to look naturally messy. She takes a seat at the piano and then music booms in the room. Madelyn sings along with it.
Gale can't take his eyes from her.
He's used to being around beautiful models; girls who are tall and angular, with striking features and sharp cheek bones and long necks. Their beauty leaves him cold. But Madelyn, she's a different kind of beautiful. She's soft and delicate and pretty, even with the sultry eye make-up.
The song is different to what he was expecting too. It's a simple piano melody, some strings during the chorus. Without all the synthetic crap that's usually layered into her music, her voice sounds soulful. The lyrics are different too; it's just a simple song about promising to love somebody with everything she's got. It's romantic without being cheesy. It's the type of song that an entire generation will pick for their first dance at their wedding.
When the song ends, Madge stands up and leaves the room.
"Cut."
Gale feels like he can breathe again.
The crew rush forward to reset while Fulvia lets Plutarch know that Gale is here.
Plutarch comes over to him, hand outstretched to shake his. "Gale, it's good to meet you." He turns to Madelyn, as she joins them, dressed now in a fluffy white bathrobe. "Well now, I hope you're pleased with your selection."
Madelyn blushes and nods. "Um, yes. Hello, it's nice to meet you. I'm Madge." She's even prettier with pink cheeks.
Gale remembers Fulvia saying Madge had picked him herself. He feels his own cheeks heat up as he shakes her hand. "Hello, Madelyn. I'm Gale. Thank you for this opportunity."
"It's just Madge," she repeats. "Thank you for coming all the way down here at such short notice,"
"It's no trouble." He looks down and realizes he's still holding her hand. He lets it go reluctantly.
Plutarch nods. "Yes, I feel good about this shoot tomorrow," he says, exchanging knowing smirks with Fulvia. "We'll see you in the morning, Gale. In the meantime, young lady, you and I have a lot of work to do."
Madge allows him to steer her away, but she throws Gale a smile over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow."
"So, are you feeling better about shooting those love scenes now?" Fulvia asks, biting back a smile.
Gale rolls his eyes at her and follows her back out to the car.
He's really glad he didn't go to that jeans casting now.
"Madge is pretty nervous," Fulvia tells Gale as he sits in hair and make-up the next morning. "So, we're just going to shoot you two lying in bed talking and cuddling first and then we'll shoot the love scenes later, when Madge is more comfortable around you."
Gale nods. He feels relieved about the shooting schedule, because he's a little nervous too, though he doesn't know why; He's been involved a couple of saucy shoots before. He tells himself it's because this isn't a photo shoot, it's a music video for a pretty famous pop star; a video that's going to probably going to garner a lot of attention when it's released. He's not going to be 'that guy in the toothpaste ad' anymore, he's going to be 'that guy in the Madelyn Undersee video'.
Through an open door into the next room, he sees Madge sitting patiently as her hairdresser artfully styles her hair into what's supposed to be a bedhead look. She looks calm, but she's twisting her fingers nervously in her lap and when she catches his eye, she blushes.
"Try and help her relax," Fulvia whispers as Gale is led into the bedroom. The room feels cramped with all the crew and their equipment in it and the windows are blacked out. Gale wonders why they didn't shoot this on a sound stage. The lights shine on the large bed in the center of the room and makes him think of a porn movie. He bites back nervous laughter.
He's instructed to climb into the bed, so he drops his fluffy bathrobe and climbs in. A bed sheet is pulled up to his waist. Thankfully he's been allowed to keep his boxers on for this scene, and he's wearing his nude briefs beneath them. He's glad he doesn't have to wear a sock. The video is risque, but not that risque.
Plutarch clears the room of any superfluous crew and Madge shuffles in shortly after; she looks uncomfortable and clutches her robe tightly. One of the crew holds the sheet up she can get under it. She takes a deep breath and swallows nervously before quickly untying the belt and throwing off the robe. She darts under the sheet quickly, but just slow enough to allow Gale a glimpse of her. She's wearing a pair of nude panties, and her breasts are covered in pasties so there's no chance of showing nipple.
While he's used to be nearly naked and being around actual naked people on set because of his modeling career, this is clearly a first for Madge.
Several different hands start pulling on the sheets, grabbing limbs, plumping pillows, messing hair with Plutarch directing from his place behind the camera. A couple of times, Madge and Gale are instructed to move closer, until their legs are intertwined and their faces almost touching. They exchange polite, awkward smiles. Gale can feel her breasts pressing against his chest, the pasties feel so natural that it's as if she was naked. He tries not to look down, but they're so close there's really nowhere else to look except her face, and that's just as awkward.
Eventually, Plutarch is happy and everybody pulls away, ready to shoot the scene.
For this shot, the camera is facing Gale, shooting over Madge's shoulder. They've done it this way to get Madge comfortable on set before shooting her from the front. Gale wishes that Madge would just suck it up; at least she's shot videos before, he never has and is really uncertain about his ability to pull this off.
Fulvia had been wrong, or lying, when she'd told him he wouldn't have to act because there seems to be a lot of acting to do. It's not just a matter of lying in the bed or making out, but for this scene he's supposed to 'look lovingly and adoringly at Madge'. "You're madly in love with her, you've just made sweet love, and now you're basking in the afterglow together," Fulvia had explained.
This is so far out of his comfort zone.
Beside him, in the bed, Madge is rigid with nerves. She keeps reaching up to touch her hair, then remembering that she's not supposed to do that and letting her hand fall back. Gale knows from experience that if she doesn't relax, the shoot will take far longer than it's supposed to. He's just going to have to get over his own nerves and try and help her relax. So he catches her eye and they both smile politely again.
"I'm pretty nervous about this too, I've never shot a music video before," he confesses.
She looks surprised. "Have you shot any commercials?"
He shakes his head. "No, I've only done print, and a little runway. I have no idea how to act. All I can do is smile or smolder."
"Can I see a smolder?" Madge asks with a giggle.
Gale closes his eyes for a moment, then gives her an comically exaggerated smoldering look, looking up at her through his eyelashes.
The tension leaves Madge's body as she laughs. "You must go hungry a lot."
He grins. "Nope, the ladies love my smolder."
Madge laughs again, and it makes his heart race. For the first time, he really looks at her. Now that she's so close he can see every freckle, her long eyelashes, the smoothness of her skin, the brightness of her blue eyes.
"This is great stuff, guys," Plutarch interjects. "Just do what comes naturally."
Gale hadn't even realize they had started filming. Did he even say 'action'?
Madge tenses again and reaches for her hair. Instinctively, Gale catches her hand in his and laces his fingers through hers. She smiles gratefully at him.
He can see that she's nervous, but trying to act like she's not. She forces herself to relax and continue their lighthearted conversation. "But, can you smize?" She teases.
"Can I smize?" Gale scoffs. He pulls a few faces, pouting and smoldering, and even a 'blue steel'. It's probably not the adoring look that Plutarch wants, but Madge is laughing and relaxed. The only problem is that when she laughs, she moves against him and it's causing a reaction he'd rather not have in this particular setting.
He reminds himself that this is a video shoot with dozens of people watching and now is not the time. It does the trick, for now. But he's surprised by how much Madge is affecting him already.
They fall quiet now, doing the silent adoration thing that Plutarch wanted, gazing into each others eyes. Madge is struggling not to giggle, which makes him want to laugh too. He uses all his modeling experience to smother it, as best he can; but he can't suppress the smile on his lips.
And then Plutarch yells cut.
Gale expects they'll try for another take, but Plutarch seems satisfied with what they've got so far and gives orders for the camera position to be reset. People bring over their robes and Madge hops out quickly. She's ushered away.
Grabbing his own robe, Gale steps out of the house onto the veranda and admires the view. It's warm and sunny, and the sea stretches in front of him. He wonders what he'd be doing back in cold, rainy New York right now.
He's called back in after a while and this time instructed to lie flat on his back in the bed. "You don't have to do anything this time, except pretend you're asleep," he's told.
"No problem," he says, letting his eyes drift closed. There are far worse ways to make a buck than pretending to be asleep on a comfortable bed.
Madge comes in a few minutes later, looking as tense and nervous as she did before the first shot. She and Plutarch talk quietly, the director is gentle and reassuring, saying over and over that nobody will see anything.
It takes a few more minutes of coaxing before Madge removes her robe. Gale watches through a half opened eye and tries not to laugh. She's wearing a nude body sock, and with the lights behind her, she looks completely naked. He guesses that's the intention.
"How's it going?" he asks casually as she crawls into the spot beside him. This time, she's draped across his chest, her head lying close to his heart. He wraps an arm around her waist.
"I wish this was over," Madge mutters. "How about you?"
"Eh, I'm doing OK right now," he grins, burrowing his head deeper into the pillow beneath his head.
Again there's a lot of work to make sure the sheet hangs just right, it's pushed down low so that his entire torso is uncovered. Madge is taking deep, calming breaths, and he gently rubs her back, hoping it helps her relax.
When they're ready to shoot, he closes his eyes and keeps his breathing deep and slow. He hears action being called, then feels Madge slip out of the bed. It's the opening shot of the video; Madge wakes up, climbs out of bed, and walks out of the room. It's shot from behind and in silhouette so that Madge looks naked until she picks up a t-shirt from the floor of the hallway and slips it on.
Gale knows that she's not really naked, and the body sock looks silly; but the idea that she's walking around 'naked' and he can't look is actual torture. So he pictures it. Of course, in his imagination, it's set in his dorm room, and she's slipping out of his bed and into his t-shirt.
And he's having another reaction. He forces the image out of his head.
Plutarch yells cut and Gale can finally open his eyes, just in time to see Madge scurry back into the room and dive under the sheet. He wraps his arm around her and squeezes.
"This is awful" Madge whispers. "I feel so stupid in this thing."
"Look, I've had to wear nude thongs and cock socks on shoots, so you're not going to get any sympathy from me," he tells her with a grin.
"A cock sock?"
Gale raises an eyebrow pointedly and Madge realizes what he means; she laughs and blushes. "I guess it could be worse."
"A lot worse," he sighs. He leans his head closer and whispers in her ear. "I think it's kind of hot."
Madge snorts.
They do a few more takes of the shot, and after each one Madge hurries back to the bed where he awaits her with open arms. He rubs her back reassuringly and teases her about the sock and by the fourth take, Madge seems completely relaxed and Plutarch is satisfied with the shot.
Then they do what will be the final shot, which is Madge coming back to bed. She wears the t-shirt throughout this shot, so she's at ease. All Gale has to do is pretend to be asleep. But after the first take, Plutarch decides that Gale should wake up when Madge comes back to the bed. So the next time Madge climbs in, he opens a sleepy eye and pulls her close. They do about six of seven takes of that before Plutarch is satisfied and gives the order to move onto the next shot.
As the next shot will be over Gale's shoulder, all the cameras and lights have to be moved to the other side of the bed, so Madge and Gale have a break.
Madge is whisked off again, so Gale grabs a plate of fruit from the snack table and sits out on the veranda. He takes a seat and stretches his legs, enjoying the balmy morning air and the sound of waves lapping on the shore. He takes a few pictures of the scenery and posts it on Whatsapp so his family can see it. He hasn't told them what he's shooting, just that he's in Florida for work.
"Want me to take one with you in it?" Madge asks, stepping out onto the veranda, wrapped in her fluffy robe. Gale hands her the phone and stands with his back to the ocean. Madge holds it up and grins. "Smize."
Gale laughs as she takes the picture and posts that one too. "Thanks. Can we get a picture together? My sister is a huge fan."
"Of course," Madge stands beside him and he wraps an arm around her shoulder, she leans in and puts her arm around his waist and smiles as he takes the picture.
He decides to wait until he's home and can call Posy before sharing the picture so he can hear her freaking out.
"How old is she?" Madge asks.
"Seven. I'm not sure how she's going to take all this," Gale says, waving his hand between the two of them.
Madge grimaces. "Yeah... A part of me thinks I'm making a huge mistake; I'm just going to alienate all my fans, and everybody else is just going to laugh at me."
"So why are you doing all this," Gale asks. "It doesn't seem like it was your idea."
She shakes her head. "The video wasn't. But I had to fight the record company to even let me record my own song and release it as a single, so I kind of felt that I had to compromise. And I want people to see me as an adult and take me seriously as a musician, so I kind of have to make a statement with this video." She shot him a cheeky smile. "Plus, I get to make out with a hot model, so..."
Gale grins, but doesn't linger over the compliment. "You wrote this song? It's really good."
Madge blushes again. "Thank you, that means a lot to me. But you'll probably be sick of it by the time this shoot is over."
Gale eats a piece of pineapple. "Who inspired the song?" He hopes that sounds casual and curses himself for feeling not casual at all around her.
Madge hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's for my parents. My mom has a chronic illness, and she's suffered with it for years. Some weeks she can barely get out of the bed for days. My dad is a politician but he's never run for office outside local government because of my mom. And every so often she decides that she's going to divorce him and let him be a senator or congressman or whatever. But my dad just reminds her that he promised to love her always and she promised to love him to and he's going to keep his promises and she should too."
Gale thinks back to the song he'd heard the night before and the chorus that mirrored her words.
"Please don't tell anyone that," Madge asks. "It's personal."
"I won't. I promise," he assures her. "How do your parents feel about you using their love to make out with a hot model?"
"Oh God," Madge groans and buries her face in her hands. "I'm going to pay them to never watch this video."
They're called back onto set shortly after and once again, climb into bed. The camera is behind Gale's back this time, so he can relax. He doesn't have to worry about making his adoring face. Madge giggles again when their eyes meet, but she quickly sobers up and acts professionally. She pulls off adoring far better than he does.
After a few minutes, Plutarch prompts them to talk to each other and of course, Gale's mind immediately goes blank. He can tell by Madge's wide eyes that she too is struggling to think of what to say, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "Is Madge short for Madelyn, or is that a stage name?"
"It's my middle name. My real name is Margaret, but the record company felt that wasn't a pop princess name and that Madge sounds like a country star, so we went with Madelyn. What about you, what's your real name?"
Gale blinks. "Gale."
Madge reddens. "Oh."
He laughs at the expression on her face. "What's wrong with my name?"
"Nothing," Madge says quickly. "I really like it, I just didn't think it was a real name."
She looks so adorably flustered that he can't help but prod."Why not? Gale Hawthorne is a good name."
Madge shrugs. "I just thought it sounds a little like the guy in one of those dumb romance books my mom reads, you know..." She puts on a deep voice. "Tall, dark, ruggedly, handsome billionaire Gale Hawthorne isn't looking for a wife but he's about to discover that he's secretly a prince and must marry a beautiful, virgin in order to claim the throne."
Gale laughs. "It sounds like your mom isn't the only one who reads these books."
"I only read the back covers," Madge protests, but her cheeks are bright red and she ducks her head so that her hair covers her face.
Without thinking, Gale brushes her hair back behind her shoulder, caressing her cheek as he does. Madge lifts her eyes to his and-
"Nice touch, Gale," Plutarch says, reminding Gale of his presence.
Gale feels his own cheeks heat up and hopes everybody else thought it was for the cameras too.
When they break for lunch, Gale and Madge and any of the crew that aren't working to set up the next shot, are treated to a spread on the veranda. Gale has a couple of messages from friends back in New York bitching about the terrible weather they're experiencing, so he can't help but feel a little pleased for himself. The feeling only increases when Madge takes a seat beside him instead of any of the other vacant chairs.
For most of the lunch hour, Madge and Gale talk only to each other, aside from the occasional interruption from her publicist or assistant. She asks him all about his family and college. She tells him that she's relocating from LA to New York and has just bought an apartment close to his school. It's an upscale area, of course, but it's in walking distance of a lot of the places Gale hangs out. He can't help but hope they'll run into each other, though he knows that's an unlikely prospect. Still, he recommends a couple of bars and restaurants that he likes, and frequents, to increase the odds.
After lunch, Plutarch recalls the troops to set. Madge and Gale are pulled aside by her publicist who makes them pose for a couple of photographs before picking the best one and posting it on Madge's Twitter account, to tease the upcoming video. She tags Gale's dormant account too, and his phone suddenly starts hopping with alerts and messages. He shuts it off.
When they're done with that, Fulvia beckons them back into the house. She leads them to a quiet room, unused by the crew and shuts the door. Gale and Madge exchange puzzled glances.
"OK," Fulvia claps her hands together and smiles. "Now, make out."
Gale's eyebrows shoot up and his mouth goes dry.
Madge laughs nervously. "What?"
Fulvia rolls her eyes. "In a couple of minutes, you're going to be asked to have an intense make out session in front of forty people. It has to look hot and sexy and genuine and not awkward and uncomfortable. So, I think you should get the awkward out of the way right now and make out in here."
Gale sneaks a look at Madge who is bright red and staring wide-eyed at Fulvia. He clears his throat. "OK then, that makes sense."
Fulvia smirks.
Madge nods, though she still can't look at Gale.
He exhales slowly to calm his racing heart, and then takes a step closer to her. He takes her by the elbow gently and turns her so that they're facing each other.
Madge lifts her face to him, and then giggles. She shakes her head and forces herself to stop laughing. "I'm sorry. OK, I'm ready."
Gale puts his hand on her cheek and leans down until there's only a whisper between them and then Madge laughs again. He pulls back as she apologizes again and tries to be serious.
Fulvia shifts around impatiently.
Madge nods to give him the go ahead. This time he doesn't give her the chance to laugh or to think about it, he swoops down and presses his lips to hers. His hands slide into her hair to pull her closer. Madge makes a squeaking sound but quickly melts against him.
Gale instantly forgets the watching Fulvia, he forgets the crew and the camera on the other side of the door, he forgets that this is for a music video, he forgets that he's going back to New York tomorrow and he'll probably never see her again.
He forgets everything except Madge, and the softness of her lips, he way her tongue moves against his, the soft little sigh she makes, the feel of her hands curling into his robe to keep him close, the silkiness of her hair, the warmth of her body pressing against his.
And then Fulvia brings them back to the real world. They break apart, breathing hard and tear themselves away from each other to look at Fulvia.
"I said, that's great," Fulvia repeats. "It looked very… believable."
Gale nods and takes a step back.
"I should go… my hair…" Madge says and darts out of the room, with Fulvia on her heals.
Gale takes a deep breath and tries to get himself under control. He's the definition of hot and bothered after that. God knows how he's going to manage the rest of the afternoon. He just hopes that presence of the crew with their equipment and bright lights are enough of a distraction from Madge that he doesn't get carried away.
He touches his lips, still burning from her touch, before taking one more deep breath and going back to the set.
His body is thrumming with anticipation, though he does his best to project an outward air of calm. Plutarch has given him his instructions, and although Gale tried to listen, he's not sure he really heard anything the director actually said. He just knows that he's getting to make out with Madge again, on a bed, wearing only the briefest of clothes to preserve their modesty. Surrounded by thirty people and cameras.
Madge comes in once everything is set up, barely able to look him in the eye. She casts off her robe and hops into the bed, Gale averts his eyes as she does. They slide closer together and exchange polite, awkward smiles. The sheet is wrapped around their bodies, their hair is messed up, last minute make-up touch ups are applied and then it's time.
"No point delaying matters," Plutarch says, clapping his hands together. He gives a signal for the music to be played. It's Madge's song, to set a romantic tone and rhythm for them. "And... action."
Gale and Madge both hesitate, and stare uncomfortably at each other. Gale decides to take the plunge and get it over with and lowers his head to hers. Madge seems to have the same idea at the same time and rises to meet him. The result is a collision of foreheads and not lips.
"Cut," Plutarch calls. He sighs impatiently.
Madge apologizes.
"Ready?" Plutarch asks. They nod, and he calls action again.
This time, they read each other better. Their lips meet. It's tentative and passionless, and probably looks like two twelve-year-olds sharing their first kiss. It's as far from steamy and sexy as a kiss can be. Gale expects Plutarch to call cut again, but wisely the director keeps quiet and allows them to get more comfortable with the situation.
Madge shifts position a little, and Gale feels her breast brush against his chest. It's enough for him to forget all about Plutarch and become lost in Madge again. The kiss changes, it becomes more intense, more real. He pulls Madge closer and she responds naturally. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gale remembers that he's not supposed to move his left arm, as it's blocking Madge from exposing her breasts on camera. There's also a vague recollection that they're not supposed to grind, or thrust. He tries to hang on to those thoughts, but when Madge slides her foot down his calf, he can barely remember his own name.
He presses her harder into the mattress, relishing the feel of her body beneath his, all along his frame. Her fingers slide through his hair and down his back, her legs are tangled with his.
Then Plutarch's voice crashes through the fog and Gale is brought back to reality. It's like surfacing from deep water. He pulls away from Madge, breathing hard and blinking. Plutarch is talking, but Gale can't take in what he's saying.
Fulvia approaches the bed and readjusts the sheet around them before Plutarch calls action again. Gale wastes no time dipping down and resuming where they left off. Madge's response is as eager as his own. He's quickly consumed by her and once again, forgets all about Plutarch and his crew.
Again they're interrupted. Gale has no idea how much time has passed. Was it quick or long? He can't tell.
They're asked to change positions, this time Gale is on his back and Madge is straddling him. He wonders is she can feel how aroused he is right now. He prays she can't.
The afternoon passes in a blur. All Gale is aware of is Madge, her lips and her skin and her body pressed so tightly to his own. With each take, he becomes more lost in her, no matter how much he tries to keep reminding himself that this is a video shoot. Every time Plutarch says action, Gale forgets everything else but Madge; and then when he hears cut and he's brought back to reality, he has to appear calm and collected. It's an excruciating kind of torture, to be so aroused over and over, and to find no relief.
They roll together in the sheets. He spends forty minutes, just rubbing his hand up and down her thigh and pulling her leg higher on his hip. There's several takes of Madge digging her fingers into his back. He gets to bury his face in her neck, to kiss her shoulders, to taste her skin. They kiss until their lips are swollen and numb.
And finally they're done.
He can't tell if he's relieved or disappointed.
He pulls on his robe and leaves the bedroom, stepping out into the coolness of the hallway. Part of him just wants to lock himself into a bathroom and relieve some of the pent up lust. But there's so many people around and they would all know what he was doing. He'll just have to wait until he's back in his hotel room tonight. Instead, he goes outside, where the evening air is a blessed relief from the heat of the house. He can hear waves gently lap against the shore and decides to go down to the beach.
He ducks back inside to grab a juice from the fridge and heads back outside, following a stone pathway that leads to the shore line. The beach is deserted and Gale relishes the solitude, and the chance to regain his senses. Right now he's in Madge overload. He can still feel her against his skin, still taste her, still hear her gently panting in his ear. He yearns for her. He's never used the word yearn before in his life, but it fits him so perfectly now. He yearns for her.
He reaches the end of the beach and turns to go back when he spots Madge stepping down onto the sand. Her eyes widen when she spots him and she seems to waver between staying and going back.
Gale approaches her, feeling butterflies in his stomach. They face each other and laugh.
Madge presses her hands to her face. "God, this is so weird. Normally when I get to second base with somebody, we've been dating for a few weeks."
"Normally, if I've spent the day in bed with a beautiful women, I feel a lot more satisfied that I do right now," Gale counters.
Madge giggles, and her cheeks flame. Gale hands her the bottle of juice in his hand and she gulps half it down. "Thanks," she says, passing it back to him.
He turns it in his hands a few times, trying to work up the courage to ask her out. She'll probably turn him down; but he knows if he doesn't, he'll always regret it. "Madge, when you move to New York, if you want, I'd love to take you out to dinner." He cringes when he's done; he's just made things more awkward and they still have another scene to shoot.
"I'd love that," Madge says breathlessly. "That would be wonderful." She winces at her own eagerness, which he finds adorable.
"Great." He smiles at her and wonders about kissing her for real. She leans closer, inviting him in.
But before he has the chance, a runner from the crew yells from the steps that they're needed back in wardrobe. So they walk back to the house together, exchanging flirtatious smiles.
Their last scene together is the easiest of the day. For a change, they're both fully clothed. Well, they begin fully clothed. Gale wears a pair of jeans, and the t-shirt that Madge wears while playing the piano. Madge wears a silky wrap dress that he gets to unwrap to reveal her black underwear. With any awkwardness between them gone, and the promise of a date in their near future, the energy between them crackles with anticipation and excitement.
Plutarch films them entering the room, pulling clothes off a couple of times. After three of four takes, Gale hoists Madge up and comes through the door with her legs wrapped around his waist. The prospect of maybe doing this for real with her one day, makes Gale hard again and he's thankful that he's in jeans for this scene and not the nude briefs which would reveal everything.
They do one more take and then they're done. Plutarch thanks Gale and he's free to go. Madge has to stay longer to finish up, and there's so many people around when he says goodbye that he chickens out of asking for her number. Instead, he scribbles a note in the car back to the hotel and asks the receptionist to give it to her.
He grabs some dinner in the hotel restaurant and then calls home. He talks briefly to his mother before Posy takes command of the phone and demands to know absolutely everything there is to know about Madelyn Undersee. He wants to curl up and die in mortification when he thinks of her watching the video. Posy eventually runs out of questions and reluctantly hangs up.
The whole time he talks to Posy, his leg is bouncing restlessly and when he hangs up the phone, he looks around the room, wondering what to do to pass the time. He could go to the bar, but doesn't feel like. He doesn't want to be around people, or make idle conversation. His body is humming with energy. He's not hard right now, but all it would take would be a touch or a glance from the right person. Of course, the only person he wants is Madge.
Eventually Gale decides that the best thing to do would be to take the matter in hand, so to speak. He heaves himself off the bed and starts pulling off clothes as he heads towards the bathroom. He fiddles with the shower, trying to figure out how to get the damn thing to work. Just as he's about to step in, there's a knock on the door, so he pulls his bathrobe on and answers it.
It's Madge. She too is dressed in a bathrobe, the hotel's logo emblazoned on the breast pocket. The sultry makeup of earlier is gone, and her hair is just messy and loose instead of carefully styled. She looks breathtaking. Gale can only stare.
Madge looks up at him shyly. "Are you busy?"
He shakes his head. "No, I was just going to take a shower." He jerks his thumb in the direction of the bathroom. "Do you want to come in?"
She nods and slips past him into the room. It takes every ounce of his self control not to grab her and press her against the wall.
"I'll just turn that shower off," he says, stepping into the now steamy bathroom. He reaches in to turn off the water when he feels a hand on his back. He jumps, and turns to face Madge.
She bites her lip hesitantly before dropping her robe, he stares at her, drinking in the sight of her body without any pasties or body socks covering anything up. She giggles and steps into the shower. He hurriedly removes his own robe and joins her.