By SuperEvil
superevil7@protonmail.com
Copyright 2026 by SuperEvil, all rights reserved
[5,925 words]
* * * * *Part 7
The town square had been lovingly recreated on the large soundstage, a
near-perfect replica of what a small, dusty community would have looked
like in the old south. There was a saloon, a jail, a church, and a
mercantile, all looking weathered and worn, just for our picture. Me,
Sandra, and Wendy had been shooting the scene where we were sneaking
through the square, our characters still naked and trying to get to a
safe place.
"And... cut! That was great, girls. Great! Let's reset and go again," Director Thomas told us.
We were shooting these scenes after we had done the ones in the
schoolhouse; it's just that the scene with the boys stealing our
clothes was shot on location, so scheduling meant that things were
filmed all out of order.
"The girls' hair," Mr. Thomas said,
walking over to us, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "It's all dry. They
just got out of the water. Their hair should still be damp."
And here we are, me, Wendy, and Sandra all naked again.
I mean, I was naked by choice (technically, my mother's choice). I had
been getting used to being without clothes, even when there were plenty
of people around. Sandra and Wendy, on the other hand, were covered by
their body socks. I envied them, even if the thin fabric did little to
conceal their shapes.
"Oh, dear!" A fretting Rodger came
rushing over to Director Thomas. "You're right of course. I should have
thought of that myself." He looked around the set, which was bustling
with activity. "Ok, don't move, girls! I know what to do!"
Then, with a mischievous smile, I saw Anthony and Nathan sprint out
from a building carrying a couple of big, sloshing buckets of water.
They were grinning at each other like a couple of pranksters who'd just
thought up a really good joke.
"Wait, boys," Rodger yelled,
but it was too late! The boys splashed us before we even knew what was
happening. A freezing wall of water hit me, and I jumped, sputtering
with shock. I heard Sandra and Wendy gasp as the icy water splashed
against them as well.
"What the hell!?" Sandra yelled. "You idiots!"
"No, boys, the body socks," Rodger made an exasperated huff, pinching
the bridge of his nose as he started to pace around. "They're not
supposed to get wet!" I'd never seen him looking so agitated before.
We all turned and stared at Sandra and Wendy. The two of them looked
down, and their mouths dropped open. The thin fabric of the body socks
was clinging to their bodies, now almost completely transparent,
especially on their chests. And that wasn't the worst of it. The flesh
tone dye was already starting to bleed from the fabric, leaving the
suits covered in ugly brown streaks.
"They're ruined," Wendy
whimpered, looking at the stains that were traveling down her front. A
big stain of brownish water dripped from her bottom and landed on her
foot, and she looked like she was about to cry. "They're ruined, my
costume is ruined!"
"Great! Just great!" Director Thomas
stomped over, his hands on his hips. "Rodger, these costumes are ruined
now, right?" He asked as he pointed to the body socks.
"I'm
afraid so," The Wardrobe Man sighed heavily with a shake of his head.
"They'll be too stained and too see-through to use on camera anymore.
They would have to be replaced, and I don't have another."
"We
don't have the money," Franklin Thomas declared. "They'll just have to
do it naked, like the scene at the pond. Like Angela."
"You
can't be serious!?" Sandra squawked. She shot a glare at the boys and
Rodger. "They did this on purpose!" She yelled at our director, but it
was more of an accusation.
"We did no such thing," Anthony argued. "We were just trying to help get their hair wet."
"Then why would you use two huge buckets when a couple cups would have
done the job?" She snapped back. "You two did this on purpose!"
"It might be true what you're saying, Sandra," The director admitted.
"And I'll deal with those two hooligans later. Right now, you're
holding up production, and I can't have it! Time is money, and we're
losing both! Now go to your dressing room and get those ruined things
off. Then, get your little bare bottoms back out here so we can film
this scene!" For a few seconds everyone was silent, I'm surprised that
Franklin could be so forceful.
"I... But, all those people are
going to see me naked!" Wendy whined, but at least she didn't argue.
Her eyes looked out over the set, and she saw all the crew who worked
hard, the people on our team, all staring at us because of the
commotion.
"Most of these men saw Angela get spanked
yesterday. They're not going to care if you're naked." Franklin's
statement made my face burn with all the shame from yesterday.
"You can't do this!" Sandra complained, with her hands on her hips.
Franklyn just made a look at Rodger, who replied, "As a matter of fact,
he can. Your contract is written in such a way that you three can be
obligated to be nude during the production at any time. I believe it
was to cover some liability or such nonsense, but it works out for the
director's wants in this case."
Both Sandra's and Wendy's mouths hung open in disbelief as I stood there, not saying anything.
Sandra’s cheeks went bright red, her hands flying to her hips. “Why
would my agent sign something like that?” she finally squeaked out,
stomping her little foot on the wooden boards of the fake street.
“Contract’s a contract, kid,” the director said, shrugging his
shoulders like he couldn't care less about how embarrassed they were.
Sandra’s eyes got wide with anger. “You’ll be hearing from my agent
about this!” she yelled. “And from my mother, too!” Before anyone could
say another word, she spun around, marching toward the dressing rooms.
Wendy trailed behind her, still sniffing about her ruined costume. I
watched them go, feeling sorry for them, but also, I can’t lie, feeling
a little bit relieved that I wouldn’t be the only one naked anymore.
It didn't take them too long to return. I guess when you're only
wearing a thin bodysuit, it doesn't take long to get changed. When they
stepped back onto the set, their arms were crossed over their chests,
trying to cover up their little boobies from everyone. Their faces were
bright red, just like mine got every day.
The whole set seemed
to stop for a moment. All the men with their cameras and microphones
and all the cables and lights, all stopped and stared. I had gotten so
used to it, but it was still fresh and humiliating for them. I felt a
pang of sympathy, but also a tiny, selfish feeling of… welcome. Welcome
to the club, girls.
Anthony and Nathan, of course, were
leaning against the wall of the fake saloon, nudging each other and
grinning like a pair of fools who’d just pulled off the school's best
prank.
"I don't know, Franklyn," Anthony commented, "I think
we're improving the film by bringing some authenticity to it. The
girls' characters are supposed to spend the rest of the film naked,
right? Now you've got all three of them performing naked, just like the
script said."
His words brought a fresh wave of anger to
Sandra's face, and she looked like she might try to hit him, but Wendy
grabbed her arm. He was right, and we all knew it. That's what hurt.
I have to admit, a little smile played on my lips as I watched my
costars trying to hide their bodies. A nasty, mean-spirited thought
passed through my mind: See? It isn't so easy being naked all the time,
is it? I knew I shouldn't feel this way, that I was sinking down to the
boys' level, but seeing that they were just as embarrassed as I had
been felt... good. Maybe now they would finally understand how I had
been feeling. And I let out a little giggle that I just couldn't seem
to stop.
That was the wrong thing to do.
"Ahem."
Anthony's mocking 'ahem' made my giggle die in my throat. His eyes
landed on me, a smug grin spreading across his face. "And you find that
funny, Angela?"
My own giggle suddenly felt like a betrayal to
my costars. I could feel my face starting to blush. "No, I wasn't..." I
stammered, backing up a step.
Nathan chimed in with a big
goofy grin on his face. "Don't forget, Ang, you're in the same boat
you're laughing at," he pointed out, and then he looked me up and down.
"Actually, you have it a little worse. You've been naked this whole
time." Nathan's pointed look made me feel so exposed.
Sandra
gave me a cold, hard stare, and then she made her way toward me. Her
hands were no longer crossed over her chest, which I couldn't help but
notice made her look braver than I felt. "You think it's funny that we
have to be naked like you, huh?" Her words were full of venom. "Unlike
you, we don't want to use our bodies to further our career. Some of us
have some self-respect."
"Sandra, I..."
I didn't get
to finish, as Wendy came up next to her to take her arm, pulling her
back a step. "Come on, Sandra, let's not cause any trouble," she said,
sounding so calm that I could have cried. "Let's just get this scene
over with."
Sandra took another step toward me, wagging her
finger right under my chin. "Don't worry, we won't be the reason they
don't finish the movie. But just know one thing, Angela. You're not the
only one who can act. We were just too polite before. Now we have a
reason to act like you."
She shot one last glare at me, then
turned on her heels and strode toward the makeup chair. Wendy gave me a
sad little wave before following her.
Franklin just stood
there with a self-satisfied grin as he watched them go, then he called
for everyone's attention. "Alright, people! Let's reset and get it
ready for another take!"
The shoot was awful.
That
day, we went through so many takes that I lost count. With three naked,
embarrassed girls trying to squeeze through windows or dart between
buildings, it was a mess.
"Sandy! Don't put your hands over your butt! You're supposed to be scared for your life!" Franklin shouted.
"More fear, Wendy! C'mon, you look like you're afraid of a little spider, not a full-grown man!"
"What's with the sour face, Angela? A little sun gets in those big brown eyes, and you lose your ability to act?"
Each take, my body growing tired, every nerve on edge with the stress
of being on display. I had become almost numb to the feeling of being
naked, but being naked with an angry Sandra and a blubbering Wendy, in
front of a whole crew who seemed to have forgotten how to do their
jobs, made it feel like the most humiliating day of my life.
It got worse at the end. As soon as Franklin yelled cut the final for
that day's setup, Sandra and Wendy stormed to a corner, covering
themselves and refusing to talk to anyone. I started toward the
catering table, hoping for a glass of water, when a familiar angry
female storm cloud blew onto the set.
"Sandra!"
Both me and the director froze at the sharp, angry call.
A woman marched onto the set, her face a mixture of fury and panic. Her
eyes immediately landed on her daughter, wrapped up in a small towel a
helpful stagehand had given her, and then her eyes swept over the rest
of the set. Her glare landed on me, and then on director Franklin, who
had lost the smug grin and was now looking like a little boy who'd been
caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
This must have been Sandra's mother. She looked exactly like Sandra, only older, taller, and much, much scarier.
"What is going on here? What are you doing with no clothes on? I
thought you said the nude scenes were finished?" Sandra’s mother asked,
running over to wrap her own arms around Sandra as she trembled.
Just then another woman came running onto the set, this one looking
much softer, and more worried. Wendy’s mother. She saw her daughter
huddled in another towel, and her face immediately crumpled, a big gasp
coming out of her mouth. "Wendy! Oh my goodness!" She rushed over to
her girl, wrapping a protective arm around her. My own mother was
scary, but these two women were a whole different level.
Franklin took a step back, a deer caught in the headlights of an
oncoming car. He fumbled with his clipboard, and I saw a little drop of
sweat roll down the side of his head. "Ladies, please! Let's all just
calm down!"
"Calm down?! You tell me to calm down when my
daughter's running around a movie set like some common… some common…"
Sandra's mother couldn't even finish her sentence, but her angry stare
spoke volumes.
Wendy’s mother finally found her words, too,
even if they came out as a sad little whimper. "Why didn't someone call
us? I would have brought her something to wear! And what happened to
those body socks?" she cried, holding her daughter close like she was a
baby again.
"Yes, the costumes," the director started,
pointing a shaking finger toward Rodger. "That was an accident with a
prop." He seemed to be trying to find any way to wiggle out of the fire
he had landed in.
Then the mothers turned their collective,
furious gaze on Rodger. He shrank back a step, but then seemed to find
a little bit of nerve. I held my breath, wondering how he was going to
worm his way out of this one. I knew he could be a little sneaky.
"There was a mishap with some water and the body socks, but the good
news is that I can get a replacement set shipped in for them within a
few days," he said, trying to smooth the situation with what he
probably thought was a good solution.
Then he made a fatal mistake. He looked directly at me as he spoke to the mothers.
"They'll just have to manage like our star Angela has for the past few days."
The fury in both mothers faces suddenly went quiet. Too quiet. I'd seen
that look on my mom's face before, and it was always right before she
did something that would make my life miserable. I saw them look at me,
naked and shame-faced, standing there like a fool in front of everyone.
Then they looked back at their own precious daughters, huddled under
their scratchy studio towels.
Wendy's mother spoke first, and
in a small, but firm, voice that cut through the air. "Wait a minute.
You mean to tell me... Angela has been naked... for the last few days?"
Sandra’s mom put her hands on her hips. "On this set? In front of
everyone?" Her eyes swept across all the crew men, who were pretending
to be very busy suddenly with all their equipment.
Rodger,
bless his oblivious heart, just kept talking, digging a deeper grave
for all of us. "Yes. It was a choice to help the picture, to get the
best shots. Her mother was very supportive."
A beat of the most
suffocating silence I have ever experienced hung in the dusty studio
air. I felt myself shrinking, wishing I could just melt into the
floorboards and disappear. All that anger from a minute ago? It was
gone, replaced by a sudden, terrifying dread.
I saw the exact
moment the women made their decision. Sandra’s mom gave a single, sharp
nod. Wendy's mom wrung her hands, but then she, too, nodded, a small,
firm gesture that sealed their daughters' fates.
They weren't going to pull their daughters off the picture. Oh, no. They were going to do something much, much worse.
Sandra's mom fixed her steely eyes on Franklin Thomas. "It's clear we
need to have a talk about the contracts," she said, her voice
dangerously calm. "Because it says in Sandra's that she is to receive
equal billing and consideration." She let those words hang there. She
took a step forward, jabbing a finger in my direction. "You can not
have one girl getting special... privileges... without giving them to
the others."
That's when I realized what was coming. My blood turned to ice water.
"Yes, my Wendy deserves the same opportunities as Angela and Sandra,"
Wendy’s mother added, her tearful demeanor vanishing, replaced by a
hard, determined set to her jaw. "If this... state... is what it takes
to make a star, then my daughter is going to be a star, too."
Franklin's smile started to creep back onto his face. His panic was
gone, replaced with a look of sheer, unadulterated glee. "Ladies," he
said, spreading his hands in a gesture of agreement. "I couldn't agree
more. This isn't about my convenience, it's about fairness. Artistic
fairness."
Artistic fairness. What a joke.
I watched
in horror as the two mothers moved as one, marching over to where their
daughters stood huddled. Sandra saw her mom coming and her face went
white with terror. "Mom," she whispered, "what are you doing?"
"Standing up for you, honey," Sandra's mom said, her voice dripping
with syrupy poison. Then, with a sharp, single motion, she whipped the
towel away from her daughter's body.
"No!" Sandra screeched,
her arms flying up to cover her chest and between her legs. A fresh
wave of bright red humiliation washed over her entire body.
At
the same instant, Wendy’s mom pulled the towel from her own daughter.
Wendy let out a high-pitched little "Eek!" like a cartoon mouse being
stepped on. She didn't even have time to cover herself, so sudden and
complete was her exposure. Her reaction was pure, unadulterated panic.
Across the set, I heard it. A chorus of snickers and full-throated guffaws from the sidelines.
"Ha! Now we're talking!"
"About time!"
Anthony and Nathan were grinning like jackals who'd just been served a
three-course meal. Anthony even nudged Nathan with his elbow, pointing
right at poor, blushing, exposed Sandra, a look of pure victory on his
stupid, handsome face.
For a second, I just stood there. I
almost felt bad for them. Almost. But they'd been so awful to me, so
quick to join in on my punishment, so delighted at my embarrassment...
A tiny, ugly thought bubbled up inside me.
Welcome to show business, girls.
"What do you think you're doing!?" Sandra shrieked at her mother, her
eyes wide with a betrayal so deep it looked like it could have
physically cracked her in two.
"Getting you equal
billing, Sandra darling," her mother replied, her arms crossed over her
chest, a smug look on her face. It was a look I knew all too well from
my own mother.
"It's for your career, Wendy-poo," Wendy’s mother cooed, though the name she used was so childish it just made things worse.
"B-but... our parts... I can't do this everyday!" Wendy was practically
hyperventilating, making little hiccupping sounds as she tried,
unsuccessfully, to cover her entire body with her hands.
"This
is the movie business, sweetie," Sandra’s mom said with a shrug that
was both cold and absolute. "You either give the director what he
wants, or they find someone else who will. Do you want them to find
someone else?"
That shut both girls up. They looked at each
other, a silent, panicked communication passing between them. Then they
looked at me. I hadn't moved. I had just been standing there, arms at
my sides, watching the whole disaster unfold. I guess I looked
different to them now. Calm, maybe, or just used to it. Resigned.
"That's what I thought," Sandra's mom said with finality. "Now,
Franklyn, we expect that in addition to being... unclothed... like
Angela, that our daughters will be given an equal amount of close-ups
and a fair share of the screen." She was talking about their bodies
like it was something that could be divided up and passed out.
"Oh, of course. Of course. We'll do everything we can to give all three
girls equal time," Franklyn responded, wrapping his arms around both
mothers' shoulders and leading them away, with Rodger following along
like a hurried puppy.
"Angela..." Wendy said, her tiny little
chin trembling. She looked so pathetic and lost. All she had managed to
do was hold a hand over her belly, leaving her little breasts
completely bare, and everyone was staring.
I couldn't take
anymore. Not the staring crew. Not the snickering boys. And certainly
not the sight of my two mortified costars.
"Come on," I said,
my own voice a lot softer than I thought it would be. I held out a
hand, but they didn't take it. I sighed. "Just come with me." I turned
and walked away from the chaos, heading toward our dressing room. I
heard their bare feet shuffling on the wooden floorboards, following
me. I also heard Anthony whisper to Nathan, "The party is just getting
started," which made my shoulders tighten, but I kept on walking.
I pushed open the door to the room, feeling like I was leading two
little lambs to the slaughter. I found myself moving to hold it open
for them, as though they were ladies and this was the most proper thing
to do. It felt weird, all three of us being naked and in such quiet.
Sandra and Wendy shuffled in, their arms crossed tight over their
chests, their faces still pink with embarrassment. They looked at me
with a mix of fear and something else, something that made me feel bad.
I think it was jealousy.
I pushed the door shut and then turned to face them both. "I'm sorry this happened to you guys."
Sandra just shot me a dirty look and flopped down into one of the
makeup chairs, crossing her legs. It was a vain attempt to hide the
little lips between them from me.
"I just wanted you to
know... that I didn't want to stay naked for the whole movie." The
words were hard to get out, as they brought up all the shame from
before.
Sandra just scoffed. "Oh, right. You said that before, Angela. Just save it."
"No, really," I pleaded. I looked between them and then down at my own bare feet. "It was my mom's idea."
At the word "mom," Sandra suddenly went still, her jaw softening a
little. Wendy let out a little sniffle and sat down on the little couch
that was crammed into the corner of the dressing room.
"What do you mean, your mom's idea?" Sandra asked, her voice holding back a wave of emotion.
"Same thing that just happened to you. My mom and I were talking with
the director and... and Anthony," I couldn't help sneering his name,
"and my mom pushed for it. For me to be naked for the rest of the
picture. She made me agree to it. In front of everyone." I looked at my
own feet, the memory making me blush all over again. "She decided it
was best for my career, without really giving me a choice. She didn't
even ask me if I was ok with it. Just told the director 'Angela doesn't
mind appearing naked, as long as it'll help her career'."
"Oh my gosh," Wendy whispered from the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest. "That's... awful."
I thought about her words. Awful. It was awful. Having explained it to
someone else, for the first time, made it all feel a little better.
Sandra was staring down at the floor. "So, you're in the exact same
boat as us? We didn't believe you when you said you weren't trying to
upstage us. It seemed like such a perfect excuse." I saw her eyes get
glassy, like she was trying very hard not to cry.
Suddenly,
her face crumpled. "Oh, Angela," she sobbed, hiding her face in her
hands. Her shoulders started to shake. "I've been so mean to you! I
tried to get the director to film your... your bottom, just to
embarrass you. And I'm so sorry... With Beverly, and everyone from your
school."
"I'm sorry too, Angela," Wendy's tiny voice chimed
in. "When all those boys from your class came over, and... I pulled
them over to you. I didn't know they'd say those mean things. I just
got caught up in... you know."
"I know," I said, and I walked
over to Sandra. I patted her awkwardly on her trembling back, careful
not to let my hand slip down over her bare bottom. My own bare bottom
was still a little sore from yesterday. "Hey," I said, my voice a
little brighter. "Stop it. You guys didn't know. Let's just call it
even. We've all had a rough couple of days."
I looked back and
forth between them, at their miserable, naked, teary-eyed faces. And
something inside me decided to be brave for them. They needed that.
They needed a team captain.
"Alright, get it together," I
said, trying to make my voice sound just a little bit like my mom's
when she was trying to get me to stop crying. "So our moms are stage
monsters who are pushing us to get famous by taking off our clothes for
everybody. So what? If we think about it, this is the easiest acting
job in the world!"
"How do you figure that?" Wendy sniffled, not looking up from her knees.
"It's method acting, silly!" I said, putting my hands on my hips and
trying to strike a 'tough actress' pose. "Our characters are supposed
to be embarrassed and exposed and all alone. Well, now we actually are
all embarrassed and exposed! We're living the part. This is going to be
our best work yet! We're going to knock this so far out of the park
it's going to be in another city! Who's going to remember if we were
naked when we get our Oscar nominations for 'Most Traumatized Child
Actress'?"
Sandra let out a tiny little laugh and wiped at her
eyes. "Oscar nominations? We're making a silly little western where we
have to run around with no clothes on."
"Yeah, but we're going
to be the best silly little western with girls running around with no
clothes on!" I insisted, looking at them both seriously. "And
besides... I mean... look at us."
They both looked up at me.
"We look pretty darn cute, if you ask me." I couldn't help but add a little wiggle for emphasis, my chest jiggling just a bit.
It was enough to get them to laugh. A real, honest-to-goodness laugh.
Sandra slid off her chair and came over to me, giving me a proper hug
this time. Her naked skin against mine felt warm and real, and for the
first time in days, it wasn't charged with shame or competition. It was
just... us.
"Ok," Sandra said, pulling away and standing up
straight. She even did her own little hip-wiggle. "Let's do it. We're
going to be the best naked actresses in the whole darn world."
"Yeah!" Wendy cheered from the couch, finally uncurling from her little ball.
"Yes! Exactly!" I said, relieved that the crisis was over, and with any
luck, things would be better now. "We're all professionals who just
happen to be totally naked together. Who cares? Let's be a team again."
That made us all grin a little bit. "Ok... team," I said, looking
around the room with a new mission. "Now let's get our clothes so we
can get out of here and go home. It's been way too long of a day."
I walked over to the clothes rack where my outfit should have been
hanging. I'd hung it up there myself when I'd undressed this morning.
My heart did a funny little flip-flop as my eyes scanned the empty
metal bar. Not only were my clothes gone, but so were Sandra's and
Wendy's! All three of our outfits were missing, including their stained
body socks and my jeans and t-shirt.
"Huh. That's weird," I said out loud.
"What's wrong, Angela?" Sandra asked.
"Um, I don't know how to tell you guys this," I said, feeling a little
bit of fear creeping back into my tummy. "But our clothes are gone. All
of them."
"Are you serious?!" Wendy squeaked, getting up from
the couch and rushing over to get a look for herself. "Where could they
be?" Sandra came over too, and the two of them started frantically
searching the cramped dressing room, opening little drawers and looking
behind furniture like a mad panic was starting to set in again.
It made me start to panic, too. "Maybe they took them to be washed!" I
said hopefully, thinking of Rodger and that mysterious power of his to
make things vanish and reappear.
"No," Sandra said. "Rodger
wouldn't do that without telling us." She looked at me and Wendy, a
very serious look on her face. "This is another prank, you guys. The
boys."
And just as the words left her lips, we heard a muffled
giggle coming from just outside our door. All three of us froze, and
then, like a slow wave moving through water, we all turned our heads in
unison to stare at the door.
"You don't think..." Wendy started to whisper.
Before I could answer, the door suddenly swung open. There stood
Anthony and Nathan, grinning like a couple of cats who'd just eaten a
whole canary. And in their arms, they were holding our clothes in big,
messy bundles. My t-shirt and jeans were draped over Nathan's shoulder,
and Sandra and Wendy's little outfits were piled in Anthony's arms.
"Well, look what we found," Nathan said in a sing-song voice.
"You!" Sandra shrieked, her face instantly turning from pink to bright,
fire-engine red. "You give us our clothes back right now!" She stomped
her bare foot on the linoleum tiles with a smack.
"Catch us if you can!" Anthony yelled, a big, goofy grin on his face.
He and Nathan spun around in perfect sync and took off running down the hallway.
For a second, I was so shocked I didn't move. Then I saw Sandra
charging forward. Her usual careful embarrassment about her body was
completely gone, replaced by pure, righteous indignation.
"Get
back here!" she yelled, and the door to the dressing room slammed
against the wall as she and Wendy, and me too, all bolted after them.
I don't know why, but as we chased after the boys, our bodies naked and
our bare feet slapping against the concrete floor, a giggle bubbled up
inside of me. A crazy, unhinged giggle that made no sense, but it felt
great. Suddenly Wendy was giggling too, a high-pitched trill that was
half-panic and half-joy, and pretty soon Sandra joined in. It was
crazy, but it felt... free. Even as we ran with absolutely nothing on
through the whole busy studio with all the crew packing up, I couldn't
stop laughing.
The boys rounded a corner into the main
workshop where the prop guys built everything. We weren't far behind
them. They were good, but they were also laughing so hard they were
tripping over their own feet.
"Hand them over!" Wendy shouted, laughing and coughing at the same time.
"Never!" Nathan yelled back, holding my t-shirt up like a prize.
They were trapped. We had them cornered between a giant fake cactus and
a stack of hay bales that were meant for some other set. They looked at
each other, then at us three naked girls, our chests heaving from the
run and from laughing. They gave up. They tossed the clothes at us in a
big heap.
"Alright, alright, you win!" Anthony said, trying to catch his breath.
As we sorted through the pile of clothes, grabbing our own, I couldn't
help but feel a little tingle go up my spine as their eyes followed our
every move. "You're right," Anthony suddenly said, looking right at me.
"Huh?" I paused with my one leg in my jeans, hopping on the other foot.
"About the Oscars," he said, and then he looked at Sandra and Wendy
too. "If anyone from this crazy picture deserves one, it's you three."
Sandra, who was just pulling her dress over her head, popped her face
out through the neck hole. "Really?" she asked, sounding genuinely
surprised. And a little... pleased?
"Seriously," Nathan added,
shrugging like it was no big deal. "What we're doing is easy. We get to
run around playing pranks and pretending to be tough guys. You guys...
I mean, wow."
He looked at us, at our naked bodies that we
were now slowly covering back up, and for the first time, it didn't
seem like they were trying to make us feel embarrassed. It felt...
different.
Then it happened. Their smiles, which a minute ago
had been pure triumph, started to wobble. Nathan's cheeks went a little
pink. Anthony's eyes, which had been darting between the three of us,
suddenly fixated on the very tip of my left breast as my arm stretched
up to pull my shirt on, and the faintest blush I had ever seen on him
spread up his neck to his ears. He looked from my chest to Wendy's butt
as she bent over to step into her little skirt, and then to Sandra as
she adjusted the collar of her dress.
He just stood there for
a second, with a goofy, kind of stunned look on his face, like he was
seeing real live girls for the very first time, and not just targets
for his pranks.
It was Sandra who broke the spell. She'd
gotten her dress all smoothed out, and she put her hands on her hips,
just like she had done a million times before, only this time it didn't
look so angry. It looked... powerful. "Well?" she asked the boys.
"Don't you have a scene to shoot somewhere?"
The two of them
practically jumped, as if they'd been caught trying to sneak a bedtime
snack. They stammered something I couldn't even understand, and then
they turned and ran. Not mischievously, not like they were leading us
on another chase. They actually ran away, like they were the ones who
were suddenly all shy and embarrassed.
The three of us stood there, fully dressed again in our regular clothes, and watched them disappear down the hall.
"They looked like they saw a ghost," Wendy said, her eyes big with confusion.
"I think they saw three ghosts," I corrected her, and I couldn't stop a huge, wide smile from spreading across my face.
"No," Sandra said, a slow, thoughtful smile spreading across her own
face. "I think it's that they're not used to us being so easy going
with our nudity." She turned to me and winked, and we all had another
good laugh.