Whisper of the Sun

Chapter 3

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He left, leaving me to grasp the weight of my situation fully. He had brought dinner, but I couldn’t eat it. Instead, I sipped water and buried myself in the massive, comfortable bed. Exhausted and riddled with headaches, I tried to sleep, but no relief came. The sunrise caught me awake.

I stepped onto the balcony, shivering in the morning air's chill. That’s when I realized I was on the west side of the building. There would be no sunrises for me here—sunsets, perhaps. As I lingered, my guard appeared, stepping onto the balcony.

“Aren’t you cold out here?” he asked.

I turned to look at him, studying his face. He wasn’t as young as I’d initially thought. His body was strong, but faint wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes. What struck me most, though, were his hands—strong, yet immaculately clean.

“What does it matter?” I muttered, my tone sharp.

“I brought you coffee and breakfast,” he said calmly. “Please eat something—it’s going to be a long day. In two hours, you have a meeting with the boss. After that, we’ll figure things out. I’ll also make sure you have some clothes. Don’t worry. Just try to stay calm—it’s no use getting anxious.”

“Then let me go,” I demanded.

“But you are free,” he replied, without a hint of irony.

“Is that why you lock my door?” I shot back.

“It’s only a precaution when I’m not around,” he explained. “Most of the time, I’m here, and I’ll let you know if the door needs to be locked. Like I said, you’re my responsibility now. I can’t afford to mess this up.”

After two hours, the door opened again, and my guard stepped inside.

"Please come, the boss is waiting," he said in a neutral tone.

Once more, I was escorted to the first floor and into the boss's office. The room was impressive, though not as large as the one I had seen the previous day. It had a distinctly classic style, with a massive wooden desk that immediately caught my attention.

He gestured for me to sit, and the guard exited the room without a word.

"How are you feeling?" he asked warmly.

"Given the circumstances," I replied, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.

"Let me be clear," he began, his voice calm but deliberate. "We are not criminals. I produce and occasionally direct adult films. My name is Stephan—that's my real name. But in this industry, we often work under pseudonyms. You can call me Gabe, as everyone else does."

"Why did you kidnap me?"

"Because I need you. That’s the simple answer. How often do you watch adult films?"

"Not that often—you’d be surprised."

"And you can write everything purely from your imagination? You’re not keeping up with the latest trends in the industry?"

"Look, I like to think I set the trends in this industry."

"That’s true. That’s exactly why I needed you."

"Let me make one thing clear—I don’t write porn. I write romance stories. Stories that, in my mind, reflect real life—or at least how I wish life could be. A man who gives me a beautiful prelude and then takes me when I need it."

"I see," he said thoughtfully.

"I don’t understand why you need me," I said firmly. "I thought about it all night and can’t see how I could help, even if I gave it my best effort."

"You can help me in many ways," he replied thoughtfully.

"Then why didn’t you approach me directly? Why resort to force? Why send your animals to hurt me?"

"Let’s not start with accusations," he said, his tone sharp but controlled. "I’ve been trying to contact you for months, but you ignored me—both in the real world and online. I had to find a way to bring you here. You’re the one who makes the trend."

"But how am I supposed to work under this kind of pressure? Now I feel unsafe—about my life, my privacy, my…secrets." My voice betrayed my unease.

"You’ll figure it out," he said absently, brushing off my concerns.

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Look, I need good actors. Here’s a short script for reference, but as you probably understand, improvisation is key. The thing is, when actors improvise, they recycle what they’ve seen in other movies. There’s no originality. I need your creativity—your ability to teach them spontaneity."

"As the director, isn’t it your job to guide them? If they aren’t performing well, maybe the issue is your direction, not their skills. And how much ‘diversity’ are you expecting? It’s only a sexual act—something that hasn’t changed in thousands of years," I countered.

"You have no idea how this works," he snapped. "I’ll send you behind-the-scenes footage so you can understand the process. You’ll also have access to as many adult films as you want for reference. We usually don’t do ‘cut’ sessions—we let things flow naturally and edit as needed. Your task is to figure out how to make these actors—or in your case, future actors—work with more spontaneity. You’ll only work with men, so let’s see what you can develop."

"How am I supposed to work with someone for just five days and have them reflect my fantasies? Can you give me any direction?"

"If I had an idea, I wouldn’t have had to kidnap you," he said coldly.

"I could go to the police for this," I replied confidently.

He laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that echoed in the room. "And what would you tell them? That you were kidnapped to play porn? Look at yourself." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Don’t take offense, but I doubt they’d take you seriously. Besides, even if you ran, it wouldn’t matter—your son would discover who you are. It’s as simple as that."

"Were you compelled to work against your will?"

"All the time. I'm a devoted husband and father of three boys. Everyone wears a double identity in this industry—we all carry the same fear. Anyway, let's focus. Do your homework first. Today is Wednesday, and we must start the initial preparations by Monday. Five men, already selected from thousands, will be arriving to audition for roles in upcoming movies. The process includes five days of preparation, during which you can see exactly the kind of work we do, followed by two days of tests. Honestly, I’m satisfied if I can choose two actors out of twenty; that’s typically the kind of ratio we anticipate."

"Should I have sex with them? I don’t understand your point."

"No. I would never punish them in that way. Your job is to prepare them to become spontaneous actors, to spark their imagination, just as you do in your books. They need more than regurgitating what they've seen in adult films."

I didn’t say anything, but he noticed my mood shift.

"Come on, don’t be a child. You’ve seen the kinds of women we work with. I’m sure you know exactly what you bring to the table. That’s enough for today. We’ll meet again tomorrow. Until then, ask questions, conduct your research, and become familiar with the studios. You’ll be under constant protection—I’m not risking you getting hurt."

I stood up from the chair, mirroring the authority he seemed to expect, and met his gaze directly.

"Stephan," I said.

"Valerie," he responded, with a thick French accent.

"I prefer Sera. Thank you, Gabe."

"Sera. Until tomorrow."