Behind the Scenes

I'm twenty-two years old, standing on a closed set in nothing but a silk robe, and the most famous director in Hollywood is about to watch me fake an orgasm.

Warren Drake. Forty-six. Three Academy Awards. Two failed marriages. The man who turned unknown actresses into superstars and indie films into cultural phenomena.

And now he's directing me in Crimson Obsession—an erotic thriller that's already generating Oscar buzz, even though we haven't finished shooting.

I got the part six weeks ago. Beat out two hundred other actresses in a grueling audition process that included chemistry reads, screen tests, and one intensely uncomfortable conversation with Warren himself about "authentic intimacy."

"I don't shoot sex scenes," he'd told me during that meeting, his dark eyes never leaving mine. "I shoot intimacy. The difference is everything."

I'd nodded like I understood. I didn't. Not then.

Now, standing on this closed set with minimal crew, about to film the movie's pivotal seduction scene with my co-star Bradley Chen, I'm starting to get it.

Because Warren isn't looking at Bradley.

He's looking at me.

And there's something in his gaze that has nothing to do with camera angles or lighting or artistic vision.

Something dangerous.

Something I should run from.

Instead, I tighten my robe and walk toward my mark, feeling his eyes track every step.

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