Okay. Don’t beat around the bush. Just go for it.
I took a deep breath. “Would it be okay if I wrote about the adult film industry?”
Hayes lifted his brows, his eyes blinking exactly five times before he just stared at me. “Theadultfilm industry?”
“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “I mean, technically, it’s still film production that has a massive audience. It’s an industry that tells stories. Even if they’re not, you know,complexones.”
He pressed his lips together, clearly suppressing a smile. “That’s…an unconventional choice.”
“I know,” I said quickly. “But I’ve been around that world a little. Notinit,” I added, waving my hands in panic, “someone I live with works in it. I’ve seen how the sets function. It’s actually kind of fascinating.”
Hayes tilted his head, studying me for a moment. “I assume you’d approach it academically?”
“Yes,” I said. “I will completely look at it from the outside. How intimacy is manufactured on camera. How it overlaps with performance theory. Stuff like that.”
He was quiet for a beat, then nodded slowly. “If you can frame it as a legitimate examination of filmmaking practice, I don’t see why not. Just be careful with your tone and sources. You’ll need to support your observations with credible analysis.”
Oddly, relief flooded through me. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that.”
“Good,” he said, smiling faintly now. “I look forward to reading it.”
“Great, thank you.” As I got up to leave his office, Hayes got up too and stopped me by saying my name.
“Yes?”
“Are you content with your living situation?”
I frowned, but I figured his question was justified after hearing that someone I lived with did porn. I shrugged, then smiled as authentically as I could. “I sort of have to be.”
He nodded slowly and kept studying me. “But it’s not interfering with your studies, is it?”
“No, I’ve gotten really good at ignoring it all,” I told him with a tight smile.
“But it still intrigues you enough to want to write about it.”
“It was Holland’s idea, to be honest. But I figured it would be a way more interesting essay than just writing about another indie production.”
“That’s good thinking,” he agreed before sitting back down.
“I just thought I’d come ask you first before I’d shock you with it,” I admitted with a laugh.
“Oh, nonsense. I’m sure I wouldn’t have been too shocked. Truthfully, I’m more scared of what Holland will write about. That girl has a strange mind.”
He wasn’t wrong, and so I agreed. “That’s true.”
“Stop her if she writes about another zombie movie. I don’t think I can handle three thousand words on fake blood viscosity and method acting while half-dead again.”
I chuckled. “I will. Bye, Professor.”
After leaving his office and heading to the exit to get to my car, I got a text and pulled out my phone. Holland had sent a picture of herself lying on her bed with a couple of open books surrounding her. Her eyes were closed, her tongue out, and the rest of her body limp as if she had died from exhaustion.
I’m dying here. Research is so lame. Might turn it into a short movie and write an essay about how lame research is.
I laughed and quickly texted back.
Hey, that’s actually a pretty creative idea. You should definitely write an essay about that.
Her reply came almost instantly.
