Kasper's Prince Charming

Chapter 2 - Mean Boys

The rest of the morning was a lot of waiting amongst a sea of bitchy, muscle daddies. It was a throng of white guys between 25 and 35 years old except for one latino and one black guy.

Everyone looked like action stars, but talked like mean girls. It was a back and forth of verbal cuts and jibes like they were old enemies or best friends. It felt comfortable to be back in a room of guys like some of my friends back home.

Everyone seemed to know each other and mentioned clubs in Miami. I guessed I was the only Californian.

Since I didn't fit in with their look, it was assumed I was part of the crew and everyone ignored me. I really was a last minute addition.

One guy came and took my measurements and then an hour later I argued with the hair guys who wanted to bleach my already light hair. 

They trimmed the ends of it and used a light coloring. They pulled it back in a low ponytail and added a small red ribbon that made me look like a young fighter from the revolutionary war.

Wardrobe wasn't much better. The first guy dressed me in this red polo tucked into khakis that looked like a school uniform/ target employee. It made me look like a helpful child. I raised an eyebrow at him and he just shrugged as though he didn't know what to do with me and had spent all his energy dressing the muscle gods. 

The main guy sailed by me, but then came back and paused. 

He pointed at me and looked angrily at the one who had dressed me. They argued over me in french.

The main guy stripped me down completely, ignoring my protestations.

He handed me a pair of designer label red briefs that had a thick waistband. 

He pulled up a pair of white jogger pants that hung just below the waistband of the briefs and then put a black t-shirt over me that had a red stripe across the chest to match the briefs. The shirt clung tight to my chest. 

I kind of liked the look. It added a hint of definition to my scrawny frame.

"Oui Oui! This is good!" The man said proudly, but then pulled at my hair. He undid the colonial era ponytail and mussed it up.

The hair crew yelled at him from across the room, but he shot them the finger and went on. 

He drew my hair back into a loose knot and secured it with one of those binder clips you use to hold together a stack of papers. It was a style I would have labeled "office industrial." I looked pretty hot.

I got a fresh pair of white tennis shoes with red stripes and I was off towards the set.

They were doing cover photos for promotions and the opening sequence. I'd helped Michael with some modeling shoots before so I knew how to take direction. Those had been for local products and clothes, but this time the product was me.

He had me get in some questionable positions. I kept up with him, but slightly protested when he had me straddling the diving board with my pants slid down and looking back at the camera so my ass was on full display. 

He smiled like he was surprised I'd let him get that far.

I got a quick break then and pulled my pants up. The line of ready muscle daddies behind me were eying me with new interest. I was cleaned up and now it was apparent that I was their competition and not production help.

I ignored their glares as my stomach rumbled. It needed lunch.

After a quick sandwich, I had to film some opening scenes of me mingling with the guys. Michael had written me ridiculous lines. I was supposed to be a young troublemaker. It was so not me!