One Take Only

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  “I like that. They know each other so well that if a friendship moves on to sex it’s bound to be good.” She started scribbling things down on the storyboard before putting the pen to her lip. “Yeah. They start to question everything. Think about the touches and glances that linger a little bit longer than usual.” I couldn’t look away from her. Was she talking about us? “The flirty banter becomes more intense. Hand holding sparks the fizz of butterflies. You can’t stay away from each other even if it’s just to see them for a few hours.” I felt like I was going to lose my mind. Like she’d got me all figured out. Delved into my mind and stayed there. She looked so beautiful in the light. A low glow that surrounded her. She didn’t have a scrap of makeup on. No neon eyes or red lip. Her hair was tied back with silver rings threaded through the braid. A warrior princess on her day off. “They give in to the urge one night. A quiet evening together where they can just be themselves. Friends to lovers. It’s something to strive for, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely,” I replied as my fingers reached towards hers outstretched on the table.

  “Have you arranged your date with Margot yet?” She asked and I knew I’d lost her. She smiled a little. Moved her hand back. Defeated maybe? I couldn’t tell.

  “Not yet,” I replied, cursing myself for getting in between a rock and a hard place. I only agreed in order to get Skye the space, the equipment and the opportunity to bring her dream to life. I knew this project wasn’t just a dream, it was a calling. A longing to throw away the chains of guilt that wrapped around her body, squeezing her tight whenever she allowed herself to think of Elliott and the tangled view that she didn’t do enough for him.

  “She’ll be wondering why you haven’t been in touch.”

  “Been busy with other things,” I replied.

  You. Thinking about you.

  I want to love you and it’s time you knew.

  She nodded and sighed before picking up her pen again, the one with a pink pom-pom on the end. She had a mischievous grin on her face, a look that meant she was ready for anything. A look I adored. Finally, she pushed the storyboard towards me, and I laughed when I saw she’d drawn a huge cock and balls and written friends to lovers underneath.

  10

  Skye

  “Thanks so much for being here, tonight” I said to the group after they finished clapping. I’d suggested holding a steering group at Turnip the Beet to talk more with service users from the clinic about the impact of porn on young people today. I was pleased with the turnout and the amount of passion on the subject. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  Jenson, a guy who was a quieter member of the group had approached me during a break to talk about his battle with body dysmorphia. He was receiving counselling at the clinic and was beginning to embrace his identity. I’d noticed him becoming more daring with his outfits, less likely to cover his body with baggy hoodies and jeans. He’d raised the issue of representing a more realistic body shape stating that We don’t all have or want massive penises and huge boobs. He raised his hands in my direction, clapping as the session came to an end. I offered him a hug and whispered in his ear that porn wasn’t a lesson in what bodies should look like.

  “I think what you’re doing is great,” Leo said. She was starting her transition and had been really vocal about how the trans community were represented in porn. Basically, not very favourably. Leo could access fetish porn, but nothing reflecting real sexual relationships. “Hopefully this will start a movement that says we don’t want seedy films that make you cringe rather than turn you on.”

  “I hope so,” I replied. “I know I’m not capable of changing the world or representing everyone, but if I can get across the message of safe, consensual sex, I think that’s a win.”

  The group represented a large part of the LGBTQ+ community and raised the issue I was stuck on. How could I make a film that would appeal to all sexual orientations and tastes? There were various discussions about the main message of safe sex and a film showing the reality and beauty of a sexual relationship. Sarah, who described herself as bisexual, suggested having multiple scenes rather than one story, opening up more scenarios that would appeal to many. I wasn’t going to lie, I panicked at that. I wasn’t sure how we were going to film one scene let alone a collection.

  “How did it go?” Will appeared at the door and handed me a coffee. Helping himself to the products had become second nature and I was too tired to tell him off.

  “It was great,” I replied. “Really good.”

  “I sense a but.”

  “There’s so much to consider,” I replied as I started to clear away the tables. “I still don’t feel closer to deciding what kind of scene we should film.”

  “Did you talk to Dr Chris?” Will asked.

  “She said we should go with our majority client base.” I sighed. “She doesn’t want us to lose that this is an educational film. She said we should go with a male-male scene, but then changed her mind and said do an orgy. I believe she was trying to be funny, but it didn’t help.”

  “An orgy, huh? Where the hell would I point the camera?” he said before tearing off the end of an almond croissant.

  “This feels like it’s going to be a disaster. I don’t even have actors to be in this film. I know a lot of people, Will. Quirky, eclectic, typically Brighton, but funnily enough I don’t know any porn stars.” I sprayed cleaner onto the table like firing a gun. “At this rate I might have to be in it myself.” Will coughed out a piece of flaky pastry. “Alright, there?” I smiled. “Thoughts of me writhing and naked too much for you?”

  He rubbed the back of his head. “Well…erm…I mean…no.” I rested my head on my hands and winked, laughing as Will threw a cloth at me. “Is this film supposed to be a turn on? Not sure you featuring in it would have a great appeal.”

  For a second my heart fell, but then I remembered I wasn’t living inside my head and our reality looked different. “I’ll have you know, a lot of men would kill to see me naked.”

  “How many?” he asked, his voice low. I stopped wiping the table and looked up. The air between us changed. There was a charge, a spark, a heaviness. Will stepped forward and I could feel him surround me. Another step and we’d be in the same space. His whole presence was familiar to me, like he’d always been there, but at the same time, there was something new. An excitement. A buzz. “How many, Skye?”

  “Plenty,” I replied, my voice unfamiliar. “Enough to sell at least…three copies.” He laughed softly, his lips upturned and open. I felt a need to touch them, but I kept my hands behind my back, the same fear of reading things wrong and ruining what we had was forcing them still like always.

  “They may want their money back,” he said, his eyes drifting around my face. “Not sexy enough.”

  “Suck my dick.”

  “Ah, so that’s what you’re hiding underneath those huge skirts.”

  “Anyway, how would you know how sexy I am?” I goaded. “You don’t…see me in that way.”

  “I’ve seen,” he replied, leaning forward. His face close to mine now and every nerve ending was vibrant and alert. A flurry of goosebumps erupted that I had no reason to hide, no desire or will. He could see how my body reacted to him, what he did to me in the shadows. “Not sexy,” he whispered, a smile curling. “At. All.” His words were soft, his face easy. We were good at this. Mean words spoken gently. Any other guy would have received a swift knee to the scrotum, but Will had a pass. He was part of me, like the curl of a finger, instinctual as a heartbeat, the force that awakened me from sleep, the jerk your body makes without preparation or thought.

  “Glad we’ve got that clear,” I murmured, relishing the closeness, the fact that he still hadn’t moved away. “Happy I know where I stand.” My body was brought to life by the small touch I felt to my back. Tentative fingers pressing against my skin. How could such a small gesture ignite a fire so deep? No one had ever made me feel this way before. It scared me a
nd my response was to act as hard as stone, pull up the shutters and close myself in. That way, it wouldn’t hurt as much. I protected myself when really, I would willingly pull out my heart and hand it to him. If only things were different. If only our friendship didn’t stand in our way.

  I often wondered what would have happened if we’d slept together when we first met, get over my longing in one frantic night. Would it have been awkward the morning after or would we have settled into the normality of a life together? One I’ve never been able to find with anyone else.

  “Never been clearer,” he said, softly, stroking soft circular patterns at the bottom of my spine. My body felt tight, like another touch would make it snap. Neither of us were pulling back, but at the same time neither of us were moving forward. He sighed deeply and I slowly moved my face against his, inviting more but not pushing us over a line. “Remember how we always used to go for late-night walks on the beach?’ he said.

  “I remember.”

  “Let’s go now.”

  He pulled back, pushed my hair behind my ear. It felt intimate and close and I couldn’t fathom what was different. He’d done it a million times before and I’d never cherished it as much as I did now.

  “Stacey will be home from work soon.”

  “We can ply her with chocolate later,” he replied. I laughed at his immediate response to her heartache. Things were not going well with her male escort and chocolate seemed to lighten her load.

  “Give me a minute and we’ll go.” I watched as he headed for the bathroom, unable to stop myself from smiling when he disappeared and I was left alone.

  I started putting chairs on tables and wiping up the last of the mess when I heard the door.

  “We’re about to close,” I said barely looking behind me.

  “Have I got time for coffee and a chat?” I turned to find Stacey’s male escort, AKA Matt Shaw looking dejected and depleted and I knew we were in for a long night.

  11

  Will

  Coffee and a chat? More like a night of therapy and couples counselling. I loved Stacey, counted her as one of my closest friends, but I didn’t need her relationship troubles tonight. I just wanted a night with Skye.

  Don’t get me wrong, I liked Matt instantly, but he didn’t pick the best time to profess his love for Stacey to two of her best mates. Skye immediately saw it as her duty to sort this shit out. My plan to lay out my guts and open up my heart had taken a major diversion.

  I’d left them to it. Had to. Otherwise I would have banged Stacey and Matt’s heads together. As he has the physique of a man who could hurt you with one fist, I decided it wasn’t the best tactic to tell them they were made for each other and to stop fucking about.

  Stacey was on her way back to Turnip the Beet in a taxi. I’d managed to manoeuvre Skye into the kitchen, reminding her of my earlier invitation to go to the beach. Midnight strolls were our soul food. We had some of the best times exploring Brighton by night. She was at her most open and vulnerable and I needed that side her of her to come out. I could tell she was conflicted, wanting to help Stace but needing whatever the seafront gave her just as much.

  “Woohoo!” A voice came from above. Skye was waving and shouting as she leaned against the famous turquoise green metal fences that lined the promenade. “They’re in love!” I laughed as she ran down the steps joyfully dancing and springing around. She looked like a rock idol. Leather jacket and skin-tight jeans with thigh-high velvet boots. Her hair was blowing around and her red lips where curled into a huge smile. I walked towards her, appreciating how amazing she looked but knowing that underneath those sexy thigh-high boots, she was most likely wearing Hello Kitty socks. “I hid outside so I could see what was happening through the window and I’m thinking sexytimes is part of their plans for tonight!”

  Lucky them.

  “All sorted?”

  “Yeah. Ah! I’m made up for her!” she squealed. “They’re so good together.”

  “I like him. He seems like a good guy.” She nodded and took a deep breath of air. She loved the beach. There was something about this place that soothed her. After Elliott’s death, I would know exactly where to find her if she’d escaped Stacey and me, and needed to look for peace. She wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Are you cold?” I asked.

  “A little,” she replied, passing behind me to start walking. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”

  I followed behind her. Man, her arse looked good. I reached into my bag and took out a small camera I carried around with me for those just-got-to-capture-it moments. Carrying my professional camera wasn’t always practical, but, as a photographer, I never wanted to miss anything. I held it up, noticing the lights of the Palace Pier ahead. Her pink hair whipped around in the breeze, perfectly blended with the bright lights and the darkness of the night.

  “Hey!” She laughed. “Always warn a lady before you take her picture.”

  “I was capturing the scenery,” I lied. “I love the lights of the pier.”

  “That’s OK then,” she said making her way to one of the many late-night shops selling Brighton rock and other sweet seaside treats. “Elliott used to love these.” She picked out a large sugar dummy on a ribbon. “Used to send him hyper though. Wouldn’t sleep for hours after one of these.”

  She bought the dummy and some cinder toffee and as she hung the dummy around her neck, she offered me the bag. “Urgh, no thanks. Hate that stuff.”

  “I know,” she replied as she popped a piece in her mouth. “More for me.”

  “Cruel,” I taunted as she took off laughing.

  “I’ll buy you some chips!” she shouted over her shoulder.

  “I can’t be bought with chips!”

  “I can,” she replied, arching her eyebrow and laughing as she sat down on a bench. “Have you heard anything about your interview yet?”

  Ah, the senior journalist interview. The holy grail of jobs. “I spoke with my manager who basically told me it was mine, but they need to go through with advertising and interviewing other candidates. It’s just a formality though.” I glanced at her, taken by surprise by her beauty. It happened a lot. “I’m on the up, Skye. Just call me Senior from now on.”

  She beamed. “That’s amazing. You deserve it.”

  “It’s been a long time coming,” I replied. “All those shitty jobs were worth it in the end.”

  “Don’t talk to me about shitty jobs.” She shivered and laughed before nodding over to the pier. “Remember when I worked on the bingo?”

  “Ah, a highlight of your career.”

  “Elliott would come down after school and pretend to play so he wouldn’t get kicked out.” I smiled, remembering meeting him for the first time as he was slumped over the bright, flashing boards finishing his homework. “Do you remember coming here on Elliott’s birthday? He wanted to win a Super Mario on one of the grabbers.”

  “I remember it cost me about forty quid just to get him one. I could have bought him one for less.”

  “It made his birthday,” she replied, looping her arm through mine. I couldn’t remember the last time Skye had talked about Elliott like this, not the good times anyway. I knew she couldn’t let herself go there. Opening that wound would be catastrophic. Sometimes her grief would allow her to think about the highs, but she’d always close the lid again with a slam.

  “He liked it when you were around.” Her hair fluttered around her and the lights captured her face, illuminating her like she was picked out especially because she was perfection. “I miss him most when I’m here.” She looked across the pebbled beach. “I can still see him in the distance, hear his voice and that’s good because otherwise, all I see is when we found him. Still and quiet. Cold.” I moved closer, put my arm around her shoulders and we rested against each other. “Do you ever think about that night?”

  “Sometimes. I try not to,” I replied honestly.

  “I shouldn’t talk about him,” she said, wiping tears away.
“It never ends well.”

  “You should,” I replied. “You need to let it out. To grieve properly.”

  “Can’t,” she said, smiling through a sigh. “Ain’t gonna happen.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with talking.”

  She fiddled with the ribbon around her neck. “I never thought that would be how his life would end,” she said sadly. “I really believed Brighton was the perfect place for him. Near the water and in a city so accepting of people.” She shook her head. “How wrong was I?”

  I stayed silent for a second, hating that she had that opinion of the place she loved. Grief coloured everything differently, but it shouldn’t. It really shouldn’t.

  Say what matters.

  “He was accepted, Skye. He just didn’t accept himself.”

  She nodded, although I knew she didn’t believe me, and took out her earrings. Giant gold hoops. So her. I knew she’d love them the minute I saw them in a handmade jewellery store in the Laines. I left them at the side of her bed one evening and her hug the next morning told me I’d made the right choice.

  “What do you miss the most about him?” she asked.

  I wanted to say I missed the Skye I knew before her life was smashed into pieces. The carefree girl who took life as a gift not the woman who lived it tentatively day by day, afraid to let it run in front of her. Now, she always had tight hold and would never it let go. I didn’t though. I pulled her in and said, “I miss how he made you feel worthy of love.”

  She glanced at me quickly before looking towards the tide. It was heavier and less forgiving now and I hoped it wasn’t reflecting Skye’s mood after my comment. She stood and I feared the worst, she had a history of running, but she calmly walked forward and climbed onto the wooden groyne, arms stretched out on either side of her to collect her balance.

  “There’s where you’re wrong,” she finally replied. I followed her, ready to catch her or offer her applause if she made it to the end. You never knew which way it was going to go with Skye. “I know I’m worthy of love. I just can’t find anyone who feels I’m worthy enough to love me back.”