Whisper of the Sun

Chapter 4

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When I opened the door, my bodyguard stood before me. I told him I wanted to go to my room first, and he escorted me there. Then, I closed the door behind me.

Heading into the bathroom, I splashed my face with cold water and then took a refreshing shower. Afterward, I noticed the dressing room was filled with new clothes in my size. I picked out an outfit, dressed, and exited the apartment.

My bodyguard was still stationed outside the door.

“You don’t move from here?” I asked, curious.

“Apologies, ma’am. As I mentioned earlier, you’re my responsibility. I can’t leave you alone,” he replied.

“And if I need something, who do I ask?”

“Me, of course,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Is bodyguarding your profession?”

“For now, it is.”

I chose not to press further. I knew he had his secrets to keep, and I wouldn’t get any answers.

“Look, I have a bit of a problem. All the clothes in the dressing room are new.”

“Yes, ma’am. Did I choose the wrong size?” he asked, concerned.

“No, the size is fine. However, I prefer not to wear anything that hasn’t been washed first. I have sensitive skin,” I explained.

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll ensure the clothes are washed immediately. Is there anything else?”

“Yes. The boss mentioned I’m free to explore the establishment and watch movies for research. Where should I start?”

“I can take you to the studio now. There’s no production happening now, so it’ll be quiet, but I can explain everything to you. I’ll also show you how to access movies on your TV. It’s no trouble.”

“There’s another issue,” I admitted. “I’ve been so stressed lately. I need some fresh air.”

“Of course, ma’am. The garden is beautiful and offers plenty of privacy at this time. I’ll take you there.”

“So, you’re going to follow me everywhere?” I asked, half-joking.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said without hesitation.

"Good, let's start."

I followed him down to the basement, where the studio was tucked away. The room was cloaked in darkness as we entered, but with each light he flipped on, the space's magic came to life. What emerged was a labyrinth of soundproofed rooms and modular sets crafted for endless creative possibilities.

The main soundstage was an expansive, cavernous space with towering ceilings, blacked-out walls, and adjustable light rails that cast a soft, flattering glow. Green screens and modular set pieces—ranging from plush velvet beds and sleek leather couches to faux-marble countertops—allowed for seamless transformations into opulent bedrooms, elegant offices, or fantastical worlds.

The air carried a warm, almost stifling weight, a blend of sweat, perfume, and cleaning products that those familiar with the studio would instantly recognize. Overhead, ceiling fans hummed softly, working to counter the heat radiating from the powerful lighting rigs. The entire space seemed to pulse with potential—a blank stage ready to host its next story.

Nearby, a smaller soundstage mirrored the look and feel of a cozy apartment. Outfitted with thrift-store furniture, dimmable lamps, and intimate touches, it catered to “amateur” or close-knit scenes. The adjacent makeup and wardrobe room remained silent. Walls with mirrors surrounded by bright bulbs were stations for makeup artists perfecting smoky eyes and glossy lips. Racks of costumes—from silk robes to nurse uniforms—stood ready for any creative request.

The control room was the studio's nerve center, insulated by thick soundproof walls. Inside, high-definition cameras, monitors, and state-of-the-art editing suites allowed directors and crew to oversee every shot with clinical precision.

I walked through the space in silence, meticulously observing every corner. The room was massive, and I struggled to imagine how anyone could engage in intimacy here. It wasn’t just the lack of privacy but the setup itself. This wasn’t mere acting; it was immersive, active performance. Perhaps it was my inexperience, or something else entirely, but my senses felt numbed. Dizziness crept over me, and I asked if I could sit on a nearby sofa.

"Of course! Are you feeling okay?" he asked.

"Not really," I admitted. "I feel dizzy—maybe it’s the lack of oxygen here?"

He smiled and handed me a bottle of water. "Don’t worry, you’ll be fine," he reassured me.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked after taking a sip.

"Yes, ma’am," he replied politely.

"I never imagined a place like this—where my stories could come to life. No, not life—be brought to the screen," I said, shaking my head as if to collect my thoughts.

"I understand, ma’am," he nodded.

"Are you involved in the production process?"

"Yes, ma’am. Only a few of us are here, so we assume multiple roles."

"And you’ve seen how these films are made?"

"Of course," he said matter-of-factly.

"Could you walk me through the process a little?" I asked, meeting his gaze intently.

"What would you like to know?" he responded, curious.

"How does a man even manage to get aroused in an environment like this?"

"It’s not easy, is it?" he said, his tone rhetorical.

"For a woman, I imagine she’s often the more passive participant. But a man...? I find it hard to picture how he could perform here," I admitted.

"There are specific techniques they use," he replied.

"Enlighten me, please," I said, leaning in slightly, intrigued.

"First, the performer is prepared in a separate area. Most makeup artists are charming women who work closely with the actor, creating a positive and comfortable environment. After that, the non-sexual scenes are filmed separately. The sex scenes are filmed later, and everything is tailored to the actor's preferences. For example, they might choose their partner or request a specific perfume. The aim is to make the actor feel completely at ease."

"What is the length of a typical workday?" I asked.

"Typically, between 8 and 12 hours," he replied.

"What? That long?" I exclaimed.

"Yes, why are you so surprised? Haven't you had any experience with the film industry?" he asked.

"Honestly, no," I admitted.

"That’s how it works," he said with a shrug. "Of course, there are breaks in between."

"In what capacity are you involved in the process here?" I inquired.

"I used to be an actor," he explained. "Now I work behind the scenes, organizing everything to ensure the day runs smoothly and everyone is satisfied."

"You acted in movies like this for 12 hours a day?" I asked, astonished.

"Yes, ma’am," he answered with a smile.

"And now?" I probed further.

"Now what? I’m not sure what you mean," he replied, confused.

"Now, how long can you... stay aroused?" I clarified.

"As long as needed," he said with a laugh.

"Can you take me outside? I’m not feeling well," I said.

"Sure," he replied, helping me up from the couch.

Once we were under the shade of a tree in the garden, I turned to him. "Did you have any psychological preparation before taking on a job like this? Or what drove you to it?"

He smiled faintly. "The fuel is always money, ma’am. It’s a well-paying job, and when you’re young, you need that money. I started it as a student. It helped me pay my tuition fees, live a decent life, and even start a business."

"I see. Sounds like a dream job for any young person—man or woman."

"It is," he admitted. "But the competition is fierce. There are many conditions to meet before accepting a role."

"Like what?" I asked, curious.

"First and foremost, the physical aspect needs to be appealing. Then it’s about resilience. Being good-looking isn’t enough if you can’t maintain control. And beyond that, there has to be a match with a partner, and a demand for the kind of body you bring to the table."

"Are actors trained to be resilient during filming?"

"Not really, ma’am," he said with a shrug. "The conditions are fine, but if you can’t perform as expected, you’re replaced instantly."

"And what kind of scenes do you have to perform?"

"Whatever the script requires. Nothing is as spontaneous as they’d like you to think. You’re constantly adjusting to meet the demands of the scene."

"This doesn’t sound like acting—it’s more like an intense battle. These actors are like gladiators," I remarked.

He chuckled softly.

"What did you study at university?" I asked.

"Physical Education," he replied.

"And you never worked in that field?"

"I did, and I still do. I’m responsible for the fitness of the actors, but during filming, I extend my activities."

I hesitated for a moment, processing his words. "I must admit, I’m slightly surprised, maybe even shocked. Please let me know if I’m crossing any boundaries, but the last few hours have been overwhelming. I still don’t fully understand how to contribute to this project."

"If you need rest, let me know," he offered. "Tell me if you need anything else, and I’ll make it happen."

"Anything else?" I repeated, confused.

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "From food or drink to a sexual partner, everything is manageable."

I stared at him, taken aback. "I can… ask for a sexual partner?"

"Of course. Should I arrange someone for you? What would you prefer?"

I felt my face flush with embarrassment, and he noticed.

"You’ve worked in this industry for a long time. Your books are so open-minded, and now you’re turning red at the idea of a sex partner?" he teased.

"My books are purely imagination," I replied quickly. "They’re not pornographic, only romance."

"Sure," he said with a playful smile.

"Have you read my books?" I asked.

"Of course," he nodded.

"And what’s your honest opinion?"

"Your imagination is vibrant," he said with a grin. "Now, let’s get you some lunch; it’s already quite late."

"Oh, I hadn’t even noticed," I murmured, following him.