Chapter 13 — The NDA, The Eggplant, and the Secret Studio

Narrator: Noa and Reno are still reeling from Lexa's offer. Noa pretends she's over it, but her sketchbook has suspicious new doodles involving cameras and oil.

Reno, meanwhile, gets approached by a weird guy named Greg who claims to run an "indie studio with soul." Intrigued, they go to a hidden location turns out it's an underground set inside a former frozen yogurt shop.

What starts as a joke turns into an actual proposal for their own *artsy erotic sketch-based series.* Noa tries to stay professional. But when the lighting test involves a prop eggplant, all bets are off.

---

"You've been drawing again," Reno said, chewing cereal with no bowl.

"I always draw," Noa muttered, slamming her sketchbook shut.

"You drew a tripod. You *never* draw gear."

"It was… an abstract metaphor."

"Also a bottle of massage oil labeled 'plot device'?"

Noa cleared her throat and left the room.

---

Later that afternoon, Reno returned from buying bananas and came back with a stranger.

"This is Greg," Reno announced. "He found me near the vending machine and offered us a show."

"I also offered him mints," Greg added. "Equal value, really."

Greg was tall, vaguely sweaty, wore a trench coat in summer, and had the eyes of someone who once edited a horror movie on expired Red Bull.

"I run a creative indie adult platform," he said, handing Noa a business card shaped like a cucumber. "We're looking for fresh, absurd, animated chaos. You fit the brand."

"What's the brand?" Noa asked, deeply afraid.

Greg smiled. "Emotionally unstable, visually experimental, tastefully horny."

Reno whispered, "That's literally our relationship."

---

They agreed to check out the "studio."

Reno said yes before Noa could say *absolutely the f*ck not.*

They followed Greg down two subway stops, through an alley, and into an old building that used to be a self-serve frozen yogurt joint.

Inside: neon lights. A fake bed on a rotating platform. A softbox duct-taped to the ceiling. And a mural of a cucumber giving a TED Talk.

"This is our test stage," Greg explained. "We film pilots, promos, and sometimes niche puppet content. But you two… we see a series."

Noa blinked. "Of what? Sketches?"

"Of chaos. Of chemistry. Of cartoon-come-to-life romance meets horny theater kid energy."

Reno grinned. "So like *us*, but lit well."

---

Greg pulled out a folder.

Inside: a mock contract.

Series Title: *"Lines & Curves"*

Genre: Romantic absurdity with sensual undertones.

Episode Count: 8

Runtime: 10 mins per ep

Rated: "Emotionally confusing"

Reno nodded. "That's… oddly accurate."

Noa skimmed the fine print. "Wait. There's a line that says *'one prop vegetable per episode.'*"

Greg nodded. "It's our brand signature. Suggestive, but seasonal."

She closed the folder. "Do we have to *do* anything?"

"You perform," Greg said. "Mostly dressed. Sometimes oil. Sometimes bathrobes. Sometimes dramatic lighting and monologues about forbidden affection and misplaced cucumbers."

Noa blinked twice. "I'm gonna need coffee and probably therapy."

Reno clapped. "I'm in."

---

They stayed for a "screen test."

The script was called *"Café Lust."*

The plot: Reno plays a sentient latte foam. Noa plays a tired artist. They meet. Sparks fly. The foam melts. Drama ensues.

"Why are we doing this?" Noa whispered as she adjusted a silk robe.

"Because I love chaos," Reno said, "and you love telling chaos what lighting to use."

---

The first take was fine.

Until the eggplant fell from the ceiling.

It was a prop, part of set dressing, but it bounced off the boom mic and landed in Reno's lap like a cursed blessing.

Greg clapped. "Keep it! Raw emotion! The eggplant *chooses* the scene!"

Noa burst out laughing.

Reno stared at the eggplant like it owed him money.

Somehow… it worked.

---

Back at the hotel, silence.

Then Reno said, "I know it's insane. But it's *our* insane."

Noa looked at him. "What if this ruins everything?"

He shrugged. "Then we ruin it with style."

She laughed.

Then grabbed her sketchbook.

On the next blank page, she drew a tiny eggplant with sunglasses.

And beneath it:

*"Maybe… just maybe… the mess is the magic."*