Hot Love in the City
WHEN: Friday, 5 November, 1980; morning WHERE: An Undisclosed Studio Space, London
Gideon wiped sweaty palms against his trousers. A pair of extra tight trousers that prominently featured all the good parts of him, particularly his arse which looked quite juicy after a few days of doing at least one hundred squats before his morning cup of coffee. This was all necessary, of course. Preparation, even. It wasn’t everyday one auditioned for a porno; he wanted to make sure to prominently show off his best assets even while clothed.
The fact of the matter was, Gideon needed this job. Any job that would bring in good money, really. With the lockdown enforced, his hours at Faintly Wronski were cut in half. He practically lived off tips from Friday and Saturday nights, and now that income disappeared virtually overnight. There was, of course, his weed growing and dealing business, but with more law enforcement patrolling the streets, it seemed like a much better plan to lay low for a bit. Even with an auror for a boyfriend it seemed wise to put that on hold for the time being—although Gideon wasn’t certain he even had a boyfriend anymore, given he hadn’t heard a word from Gawain Robards in days. He could kill him, really. Of all the times for his boyfriend to go AWOL, it had to be when Gideon needed him most for practice. Porn actors did practice, right? Right.
Gideon pressed both pointer fingers to his temples, banishing the worry from his head in order to focus. He needed this money; his next move would be a loan from his parents, and Gideon was much too proud to ever ask for help.
“Nervous?”
He looked over to the seat beside him, the person dressed quite smartly. Suddenly, Gideon regretted the tie he chose. His tie featured a delightful array of rubber ducks, a gift from Arthur a few birthdays ago, but in comparison to this person’s red tie, Gideon felt rather immature. “Uhh... Kinda, yeah.” He flashed an awkward smile. “It’s my first time.”
The person’s brows furrowed. “Really?” Their eyes roamed Gideon, taking him in. “They don’t usually invite newcomers to an audition. You must’ve had a hell of a CV.”
Gideon laughed awkwardly. He had, technically, fibbed quite a bit when describing his work history, but who didn’t? Actually, it was all lies, but he was desperate for the money. “Fuck. Wow. I— I mean, I reckon it’ll come naturally, yeah? I’ve had loads of experience in, you know.” He blinked once. “I mean, not so much that I’m diseased or something. But, you know. Experience.” Shut up, shut up, shut up.
The person chuckled, a hearty laugh. “I’m sure you’ll be great, kid.”
Before Gideon had the chance to blab further, the door opened to another room where auditions for other candidates were being held.
“Uh...” This person looked at their clipboard, scanning names. “Gideon Prewett?”
“That’s me!” A noise one could only describe as chirping left his mouth, and it took everything in Gideon’s power not to cringe at himself.
“Great. Right this way Mr. Prewett.” Gideon followed, turning his head back once more to take a look at the person with the red tie who appeared to wish him good luck. Gideon would need much more than luck.
“Should I take my clothes off now or...?”
The clipboarded person’s eyebrows shot up. “That won’t be necessarily. Actually please, don’t do that.”
“Noted.” How strange, Gideon thought. Maybe his tight trousers were tighter than he initially thought, cleverly revealing his whole—well—package without actually needing to see it. He didn’t understand how the porn industry worked and decided not to question these experts.
~~~
The interview flew by; before Gideon even realized, he walked toward the exit of the studio. It went horribly, as to be expected. Not once did they ask for him to take off his clothes, which he eventually came to believe was a very bad sign. Gideon grumbled as he loosened his tie, reaching for the door to the street when—
“Mr. Prewett!” Gideon turned quickly, eyes landing on the woman with the clipboard who initially brought him into the room. Her name was Meegan, and despite her serious demeanor, Gideon proudly made her smile no less than three times during his audition.
“Look, I shouldn’t say this but... The job, it’s yours. They all loved you. Chet’s raving about you.”
Gideon blinked once, twice, thrice. “Are you serious?” Meegan nodded enthusiastically, flashing a smile that appeared foreign to her face.
“Holy shit,” he screamed, followed quickly by her shushing him.
“Stop by the WBN office later today, and we’ll talk contracts, paperwork, the works.”
Gideon paused again. “WBN?” What did the broadcast news on the telly have to do with a porn film?
“I know, quite the big deal.” She wiggled her fingers in front of herself. “We’ll give you the grand tour after all the Ts are crossed and Is dotted.”
“Wait, so this isn’t, like, porn? Like a weatherman-themed porno or whatever?”
Meegan laughed hysterically; the sound resembled a hyena. “You are a funny one, Mr. Prewett. Had us all in stitches. Anywho...” She handed her card to Gideon, with the WBN’s London address typed plainly. “Stop by, say, half past three today and we’ll get this paperwork drafted.”
Gideon nodded, overwhelmed, completely bamboozled. “Uh... yeah.” Fuck, a weatherman? Not porn? But it was good money, and wasn’t that the point of this all? “‘Course, works perfectly.” He laughed awkwardly. “I’ll keep my clothes on, don’t worry.” Gideon attempted to wink. It didn’t so much look like winking nor blinking, but rather as if he had dust stuck in one eye.
“There’s that Prewett humor we love!” And with that, Meegan left, heels clinking against the linoleum floor.
“Holy fucking shit,” Gideon breathed, hands shaking. “I’m the fucking weatherman.”
