Out of Lemonade - Self-Para
Life on his own wasn't so bad.
The more days that past since he walked the Joie graduation stage, the more he felt like an actual adult, making something of himself, carving his own path. He hung around a month packing his dorm up, then moved out of Ohio for the second time in his life, but the opposite direction. If New York didn't work, maybe Los Angeles would be better. He was determined, by the end of the year, to at least make crew of some Hollywood production, get to beefing up his resume, and start aiming for that director chair.
A year later, he was still trying to get his foot in the door on a Hollywood production floor, even as a cable jockey, to no avail. He made one friend in that year, so consumed with making the dream work he only had time for the one. He was ready to throw in the towel, out of money, out of hope, and stuck in a minimum wage coffee house job due to said single friend hooking him up. Not even bartending, a barista job! It was as if he never went to New York at all, having to go back to his high school skills to make ends meet. That was until his big break, when on a whim he answered a call from an unknown number, and got an offer he had been praying for, way better than any crew hand; a director's seat, based on his demo reels alone. There was just one issue, one little hitch.
The genre. If it could be called that at all.
Kurt never watched adult content. The kissing would start and he'd be pink, the shirts come off and he covered his eyes. His sexual experience was borderline juvenile, it was a wonder he wasn't exploited for his naiveté. Instead, he had two of the most passionate, fiery relationships ever, that both crashed and burned in spectacular fashion, in the same way they grew. The end of his time in college was just that; college. No dating, no real flirting. He went to the Flame when he felt like it, would take the occasional free drink, but never went beyond that. He didn't have the heart for it, not with the indent on his ring finger still there. It wasn't until the second relationship he finally broke down the wall stopping him from masturbating, so that was doing the job more than enough as a loner. The pattern carried when he left for LA.
It took a lot of encouragement. From his friends, mostly Benji during one of their many cross-country phone calls. He couldn't possibly tell his family what he was up to; he hadn't even told his dad he was struggling with money. While running home with his tail between his legs was not his most proud plan, was he really taking this gig to make ends meet? All because his camera work was 'sensual' and there were moths in his wallet? He would have to get used to a lot of things, very, very quickly, but with the money they were offering, and how miserable being a lifetime barista was getting...
It was a lesbian porn shoot, something he didn't know till he showed up. The girls wanted someone with an 'objective eye', if that was even possible in porn, a d a clearly gay director was what they wanted. During a near panic attack in the hall outside the first meeting, as he finally realized what he was stepping into, all he could think of was how far discomfort had hindered him to this point.
After his first love, Dante, proved himself a two-faced aggressor that pushed his buttons, he became so fearful of the stage, he forced himself back into the audience. Then, after he backed away like a coward from Silas' commitment to him, he stopped dating altogether, so scared to be that vulnerable again. Love wasn't going well for him, and with it, his sex life died again too. And now here he was, shaken to his core in fear over a line in the sand he put there himself. He was gay, he didn't like girls. They were beautiful, but he didn't get off to them. He touched, kissed girls, made out in his basement with a cheerleader as a teenager. Nothing, not a spark.
And now, as he begrudgingly crossed the 'mid' line in his mid-twenties, his sexuality was once again front and center. An actual paycheck, something to live off of, and the thing in his way was himself. Kurt gripped his fists, and walked into the shooting house with his chin up, in no mood to be a loser for the third time since he turned 18.
Kurt's first project to release, post graduation, was a porn titled 'Patty's Cake.' He didn't pick it, it was some collab between two of their starlets that hadn't done a shoot together before. For a debut project, it was tame. No actual toys, just fingers, tongues, and foodplay. He left that first day like the blinders had been removed from his eyes, forcing himself to keep his eyes open as he saw things through a lens he never imagined. The girls worked like actresses playing a character, turning it on and off with every shaky 'Cut!' that left his throat. He hadn't been this close to a vagina... ever. It was kind of beautiful. He understood the orchid analogy now, and when that idea crossed his mind, it was like a switch flipped.
This was no different than sitting in his couch at his dorm, taking notes on splatterpunk, desensitizing himself to horror so he could make it one day. It was fake, all of it. The fluids, the orgasms, the moans. There was a script, a schedule, a deadline, and a production behind them in need of the room. And his job was to execute the vision as the first audience member, and channel what they would want to see, the lynchpin in all of it.
'Patty's Cake' clips did so well in socials, the studio site traffic nearly doubled. He was asked back three more times before another studio asked for him. Then another. Then, the actors directly, asking to 'collab' for their OFs. His name in the director's spot was being appreciated, recognized. There were even fan pages popping up, featuring his 'best' clips like it was a normal film, not dirty jerk-off material. Granted, he knew these pages were being used for just that, but even so. He may have to adjust his dreams again, from Tony to Oscar to Woody, but hey. It's a trophy on the shelf, right?
Late at night, when he would down a bottle of wine in his lonely LA apartment, he'd sip with the window open, and think back. After three years of porn shoots, he had become numbed to nakedness, yet his own sex life was barren. He had many, many offers, and turned down each one. He didn't want someone that knew him mainly as that to be the person he went home with. That meant anyone he met in LA, reducing to dating pool to the impossible. Yet again, Kurt found himself wishing for a Prince Charming, while constantly reminiscing about the ones he had before. Miserable and stable, how perfect.
Maybe he just wasn't made for it. It would be him and the wine bottle, forever. Oh well, so be it. After doing it this long, settling down sounded like a wonderful idea. His bank account was cushy now, not enough to quit but enough to slow down his production schedule, the bonuses of being freelance. Kurt figured, as he polished off the last glass of the wine, it was time to enjoy the fruits of his labor. It was nearing three years of staring at tits and ass, a change of scenery would be much appreciated.
Kurt picked New York City. It was an easy choice, he wanted to see for himself how the group's move went. So many familiar faces moved at the beginning of the year for Benji's new bar, and it had been far too long since he had seen anyone beyond a Facetime call. With his sudden choice for a vacation, he figure there would be the perfect. His old stomping grounds, made anew by old friends. After relying on just the one for so long, knowing on the other side of the plane was a whole legion made his drunken self giddy.
Kurt rescheduled a 'cosplay' shoot or two, rented out an AirBnB for two weeks, and was packed three days later. Turns out, he needed this now, the idea in his head pushed to action way faster than he expected. He shot the Joie group one last text saying he was boarding his plane to NYC, and that he'd be there in about six hours. He was arriving just in time to ring in NYC Pride, making this trip much more exciting. He'd be among friends and loved ones, in a community of his own, in Benji's drag bar for most of his time there. Perhaps it was time to end that loneliness streak, while he was at it.
Since he was in the mood for changes of pace, after all...
