Temperature Rising (A Novella) - 2. Chapter 2

Marcus was a bit early that afternoon. He didn't want to be late-first impressions last. Anyway, he'd spent at least 2 hours looking for the damn place. When he finally found it, he had second thoughts about going through with it.

Marcus stood in front of the heavy metal door. On it was the label of the production company "SORE" plastered on in bold red letters.

The door flung open and Marcus threw his eyes down to avoid social contact with the people that just went out. He waited until they disappeared around the corner before he reached out for the knob.

The place wasn't as huge as he'd imagined. He figured the company was a bit secretive about its operations. Looking for the studio itself was difficult. Who would have thought that a film production company named "SORE" would establish itself at the parking lot of a huge commercial building.

The hallway was a bit cramp, leading towards the reception desk. At either side, there were posters of hunky male models all greased up to their glory. The company had probably produced these formerly major film hits. Nobody would post anything not commercially released near the entrance. Think about bad publicity.

The hallway opened up into a rather spacious reception area where a woman was standing behind the front desk. She was on the phone, probably in her early 30s. She raised her index finger as Marcus approached the desk, signalling him to hang on for just a second.

Marcus patiently stood before the desk with his hands resting on top. Meanwhile, the receptionist began wrapping her engaged conversation over the phone.

The wall behind her, as Marcus observed, were framed certificates and licenses for legal operations. This made him feel a bit more at ease.

"Hi, can I help you?" the woman started, as she slowly replaced the phone to its cradle.

"Yes, I'm Marcus Williams-I called yesterday about the..." Marcus answered, not sure how to call it.

"Oh right, Mr. Williams-you're early, great!" she said, standing and reached out for Marcus' hand for a shake.

"My name's Sandra. Would you come with me please?" she said, leading the way for Marcus.

"I'm sorry for the mess right now. We just moved in actually, so everything's a mess," she said.

They passed another long hallway lined with rooms labelled "Studio 1, 2, 3..." respectively. Marcus was able to see through a door, which was probably left a jar on purpose, and saw lights, a white backdrop, a photographer and of course, a naked model.

"Sorry," the woman began, "Usually our sessions are done behind closed doors but a new policy suggests we have transparency. I tell you, these legalities are a bit upfront. As if the "no condom, no film" policy wasn't enough," she added, striding next to Marcus as she spoke.

"Normally, we do our casting days before the actual shooting but seeing as you've had experience with acting, that wouldn't be a problem. We usually do these castings in front of a camera and then we choose from there. Nevertheless, Mr. Nichols specifically requested that he see you first hand. If you ask me, I think he believes in you. Have you had public performances before-in theatre I mean?" Sandra said.

"Well, I had several but that was a long time ago, I wouldn't..." Marcus answered, unable to finish his statement as Sandra interrupted.

"Well that would explain it. Mr. Nichols was a stage play director before he went into film. He must've seen you do your thing."

"Here we are." Sandra overtook Marcus and started knocking at the door. She opened the door and explained herself to the man named Mr. Nichols, the company's producer.

"Larry, Mr. Williams is here," Sandra said.

"Thank you Sandy," he said, "Well Max, I'll be seeing you tomorrow," he said to the person sitting before his table. He must be one of his models, obviously.

The one named Max stood up and exited the room. He brushed himself against Marcus as he went through the doorway. He looked directly into Marcus with lustful eyes. Marcus stared back anxiously.

"Come in, Mr. Williams," Mr. Nichols said, "Oh and Sandy, would you kindly have Max sign the contract right away? Thanks doll," he added, as Sandy began closing the door behind her.

"Marcus-is it? Welcome. " Mr. Nichols extended his arms for a warm shake. "Please sit down."

"Thank you," Marcus replied.

"I'm Larry Nichols-SORE's affiliate producer and a director. My other half is not in right now. Jake is still cleaning up our shit from our former company of which we just booted out. The porn business isn't what it used to when I was still working as one of the actors," Larry said.

"How is it so?" Marcus asked.

"Well, there weren't that much companies to begin with. With the onset of technology nowadays, it's easy to make porn tapes directly out of the camera. Moreover, the public isn't as much upset about the industry as they were before. Anyone can put up his own company out of a cardboard box," Larry, explained. Despite of his aging appearance, he still had that boyish charm.

"I loved you in ‘Virgil'" he began.

"You saw ‘Virgil'"? Marcus asked.

"Yes, I did. Probably one of the most outstanding theatre productions I've seen in ten years," Marcus said, swivelling on his office chair.

"Yeah but unfortunately that was my last work ever as an actor. Small theatre companies don't survive too long under the heat of competition," Marcus spoke.

"Ah that's too bad. But you know what they say, ‘there are only small actors'. In here though, you won't have to worry about your art's feasibility. Almost everyone chows down on pornography-what a surprise! Sometimes what is required of a model is not his capability of portraying life on camera but on how well endowed he is in between his legs. That and the way he uses it with other guys in bed," Marcus said, confidently.

"Yeah I figured," Marcus said and sighed. He isn't exactly what you call "endowed" in all its sense. Heck, he slept only with a couple of men in his lifetime. How could he possibly know secrets of making an excellent porn tape?

Larry noticed the defeated tone in Marcus' voice. "But that's not going to be why you'll be working for me," he said.

"It's not?" Marcus answered, baffled.

"Well-sort of-have you seen porn productions lately-the commercial ones? Acting is bad-no offence-but performance is good, underpinned by the excellent technicalities. We are going to change all that. SORE Productions will ultimately lead what is to be known as the turning point of pornographic art," Larry said gallantly.

Marcus let his eyes wonder behind Larry and he saw another "SORE" label-bigger this time. He let his mind play with the letters and ultimately deciphered the message behind the odd choice of company name. "SORE" spelled backwards read "EROS", the androgynous Greek god of love, as he'd known during his studies in Theatre History back in college. It wasn't a poor choice of name after all. SORE Company probably had substance to it. Moreover, at that moment, Marcus had a definite answer to Larry's ultimate question-would he do it? The answer was a big YES.

"I was told I was going to work under soft porn," Marcus asked.

"That was what was agreed upon, wasn't it? But are you willing to go all the way-in the near future I mean?" Larry asked, cautiously. "You see it's not only the work that we are talking about here, Marcus. It's about your career from now on. Strategically, we would like give hardcore fans something to look forward. It's a tease actually, releasing several soft cores before going into hard ones," he added.

Marcus took his time answering that question.

"You must understand and I mean really understand, that once you go into this business, you can never erase it. It's not like a bad theatre production that people would readily forgive. You'd be in every gay man's fantasy across the globe."

What could be better than that? Marcus knew nothing else. It's the ultimate fantasy--repeatedly masturbated upon from thousands of people. What would someone like him do just so he could be another man's fantasy lover? Just thinking about the ways guys would do to him in their heads gave Marcus a hearty erection. It was straining against his pants that he had problems sitting down properly.

It was everything-people would give everything to have that kind of attention. Moreover, Marcus was no different from those kinds of people. Marcus would give anything-if not, everything.