Chapter 11 — The Director Who Wears Crocs
Narrator: Noa and Reno accidentally sign up for a "casting workshop" that turns out to be a disguised orientation for aspiring adult film actors. Instead of leaving, they get swept into a three-day crash course on the ins and outs (pun intended) of the industry—led by the eccentric but genius director, Mr. Domi, who wears Crocs with socks and insists that "eye contact is hotter than nudity." Noa is horrified.
Reno is thrilled. They meet fellow trainees, get lectured on contracts, ethics, filming stamina, fake moans, and surprisingly strict HR policies. Noa starts seeing the strange professionalism behind the chaos, while Reno accidentally becomes a star pupil in a class called "Simulated Passion 101."
There are many bad ways to start your morning.
Waking up late. Spilling coffee. Realizing your underwear is inside out.
Noa's new worst: opening her email and finding a PDF titled **"Welcome to LUX: Erotic Performance Certification."**
She stared at the screen.
Reno peeked over her shoulder. "Did we join a porn school?"
"No," she said. "We applied for a casting workshop."
He tilted his head. "That *is* the porn school."
---
Three hours later, they were sitting in a modern studio lit like a high-budget cooking show.
Except instead of pots and pans, there were beds, cameras, and a very enthusiastic man in a crop top and Crocs.
"Welcome, future legends!" the man beamed. "I'm Mr. Domi. Pronounced like *dominate.* You may laugh."
Noa did not laugh.
Reno applauded.
Mr. Domi continued, "This is not about sex. This is about performance. Precision. Professionalism. Passion that respects payroll."
He twirled. "And consent! Lots of consent!"
---
They were handed thick binders labeled *LUX Institute: Performer Handbook.*
Noa flipped it open.
Chapter One: Legal Contracts and Usage Rights
Chapter Two: Bodily Boundaries and Filming Codes
Chapter Three: Emotional Separation Techniques
Chapter Four: Moisture Management (?!)
"I feel like I accidentally enrolled in a pervy version of business school," Noa whispered.
Reno whispered back, "I'm gonna ace Moisture Management."
---
Day One: Theory.
"Porn is not chaos," Mr. Domi declared. "It's controlled chaos. Like ballet, but with more lube and fewer pirouettes."
The class included:
- Kira: a former nurse who wanted a career change.
- Jay: a fitness instructor with a six-pack and zero acting ability.
- Lilo: a girl who looked like a librarian but kept talking about camera angles like a war general.
There was also **Mimi**, a script supervisor turned performer turned mentor. She wore glasses, carried snacks, and said things like "Never fake a gag if your core isn't ready."
Noa didn't even know what that meant.
---
Day Two: Practice.
Simulated Passion 101.
Reno got paired with a mannequin named "Claudette."
"Use your eyes," Mimi coached. "Seduce her soul."
Reno stared intensely at the mannequin. "Do you believe in destiny, Claudette?"
Someone clapped.
Noa wanted to leave her own body.
Her turn came.
Paired with Jay.
The assignment: "Convey attraction without touching."
Jay tried to flex.
Noa deadpanned, "I pay my taxes. That's hotter than abs."
Mr. Domi cheered. "YES! Subversion! We love to see it!"
---
They broke for lunch. Tofu wraps and electrolyte water.
Noa sat at a table staring at her binder.
"This is insane," she mumbled.
Mimi sat next to her. "You think it's all nonsense."
"I think it's surreal."
Mimi nodded. "That's fair. But this world's more structured than you think. Safe sets, mental health support, clear rules. Half the real world doesn't offer that."
Noa blinked. "Mental health support?"
"Oh, honey," Mimi said. "You can't pretend to be turned on for nine hours without needing therapy. It's emotional CrossFit."
---
That night, back in their hotel room, Noa paced.
"I feel like I'm falling down a rabbit hole."
Reno, who was wearing nothing but a towel and holding a cucumber mask, looked up. "A sexy, educational rabbit hole."
Noa collapsed on the bed. "We need to leave."
"But you're finally opening up."
"To what? A future in *soft-core HR-compliant cinematography?*"
He grinned. "You remembered the full term. That's progress."
She threw a pillow at him.
---
Day Three: Final Evaluation.
Reno got called first.
Assignment: "Deliver a 30-second fantasy monologue with authenticity."
He stood under the spotlight.
Looked straight into camera.
Said, "I was a drawing once. A doodle in someone's notebook. But now I'm here. Breathing. Wanting. Loving. And if you're watching this, maybe… you dreamed me too."
The entire room went silent.
Even Claudette the mannequin looked emotional.
Mimi whispered, "That man's dangerous."
---
Noa's turn.
She stood stiffly.
Heart racing.
She didn't want this world. Didn't belong in it.
But when the camera blinked red, her mind emptied—and her voice spoke.
"I didn't plan this. Any of it. Not the sketch. Not the spark. Not the fact that he makes me laugh when I want to scream. Or that I've started to think… maybe chaos can be comforting."
Silence again.
Mr. Domi wiped a tear. "Beautiful. Raw. Minimal cleavage—*powerful.*"
---
Graduation was weird.
Certificates, gift bags, and a keychain shaped like a safe word buzzer.
Reno wore his with pride.
Noa just stared at her name printed under the title: **"Certified Erotic Performance Graduate."**
What had her life become?
---
On the way out, Mr. Domi stopped them.
"You two are special," he said. "Chaotic, yes. But honest. If you ever want to shoot something meaningful, my door is open."
"Thank you," Noa muttered.
Reno nodded. "Will it involve fog machines?"
"Only the classy kind."
---
In the taxi, silence.
Then Reno asked, "Would you hate me if I said I liked it?"
She sighed. "No. I hated that I *also* liked it."
They looked at each other.
Then burst out laughing.
Because really… what else could they do?
---
Back at the hotel, Noa opened her sketchbook.
Stared at the blank page.
And instead of drawing him, she wrote one sentence:
*We went in by mistake.*
*We left changed on purpose.*