I smirked. “Probably around the time the last good indie film came out.”
The projector finally flickered to life, casting a bright light across the board. Hayes straightened his tie, cleared his throat, and began in his usual monotone. “Morning, everyone. I’ll keep this short. Your next assignment is an essay. Three thousand words. Due in three weeks.”
A collective groan filled the room. Holland rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might pull a muscle. But I smiled, because writing essays was almost like a hobby to me.
“You’ll write about a personal experience on a movie set,” Hayes continued, ignoring the noise by raising his voice slightly. “Any kind of set. Student film, short film, independent project. Anything you’ve been part of in the past. I want your observations. What went right, what went wrong, what you learned. What you would’ve done differently.”
He started pacing slowly in front of the whiteboard. “If you’ve never been on a set, I suggest you find one. Volunteer.Shadow someone. There’s no better education than being in the middle of a shoot.”
A guy further down raised his hand, and Hayes tilted his chin toward him. “Yes, Graham.”
“Does it have to be a written essay, or can we make it a short documentary?”
Hayes looked at him with narrowed eyes, then he pursed his lips while rubbing his beard. “I want it to be written. But we’ll do documentaries another time. Thank you for the idea, Graham.”
Graham sighed but nodded, and Hayes continued to list everything he wanted us to add to the essay.
Holland leaned over, resting her chin in her hand. “Think he’d accept a short essay on the time I helped a guy film his cat playing piano?”
I grinned. “Probably not.”
“Well, damn.” She sighed and tapped her pen against the desk. “I guess I’ll have to find someone who’s shooting something actually interesting. Maybe I’ll crash a set.”
“Or,” I said quietly, “you could actually write about that student short you helped with last semester.”
“That thing? Please. The only lesson I learned was to never trust a guy who claims his script ‘just needs financing.’” She sat up straighter, then turned toward me with a look that said she’d just had an idea. “Wait. You live with Buster Ace.”
My stomach tightened when she said his porn star name. I hated hearing it, especially out in the wild. “I’d prefer if you’d call him Callan.”
“Buster Ace is literally the most poetic name I’ve ever heard. Truly genius.”
“Totally.” I rolled my eyes.
“Anyway, what I was saying…”
I took a deep breath, already dreading where this was going.
“You’re living with an actual porn star who’s also a filmmaker—”
“He doesporn.”
“No difference in my opinion,” she said with a shrug. “You do realize how insane the opportunity you have is, right?”
“I’m not writing my essay about a porn set.”
“Lana, my girl.” Holland shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. “You’re passing up on something I bet no other student has done before. Hayes would probably be fascinated by an essay like that.”
“Hayes will get a heart attack if he reads something like that. The man covered his eyes when Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore kissed inGhost.”
“Pretty sure he closed his eyes because he was creeped out by a ghost kissing a woman,” Holland stated. “Or because he had finally realized that watching the movie Ghost with all of his students was weird as hell.”
I laughed softly. “That was a bit strange. He could’ve chosen a different movie.”
“Either way,” she continued. “Just think about it, Lana. You’re sitting here trying to think about what to write your essay on when you can literally go home and walk into a movie set that’s actually interesting.”
I groaned softly. “Holland, no.”
“But it’s so perfect! You can discuss the lighting, camera work, angles, and the script. Hell, even the acting if you’re feeling brave.”
