Behind the lens, Imani Crawford is many things. A vixen. The femme fatale. An enigmatic seductress. When the red light blinks, her body is her empire, her sexuality a performance, her identity sealed by a kiss of a mask. On camera, she is everything they want her to be-perfect, arresting and unattainable. A woman who can manipulate a man's desire with the flick of her gaze, the arch in her body or the dulcet purr of her voice. Off camera, the mask is ripped off and she is someone else entirely. She doesn't pine after the attention or revel in their demands. In fact, she hates it. The very act of camming feels like wolf-skin. She's learnt to play the part, night after night. But, she dreams of something more. To do more. But, in a world fuelled by her late nights and alcohol, her dreams feel like a ship, stranded at sea. That is, until she meets Jasmine Abeni and something strange blooms in her well-tended garden.