The Exposed Extra: Part 1/2

I clearly remember writing this on tumblr years ago- one of my fellow ENM authors had a prompt about having nudity in a contract. One of those outlandish ideas that only made sense in erotica, and I knew that I had to write my own version. That author and I would eventually start the ENM Discord that's still thriving now. I'll post the second part without a big wait- it's just split up because it's twice the length of what usually gets posted here. 

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For 22 years, I had lived on my family’s farm. Coming home from school every day early to feed animals and drive various tractors through the back fields. When I finally graduated, I went to the local community college- my degree would be my ticket out of here. Once I walked across that stage again, I was ready. I packed everything I owned into my truck and drove four hours north to Atlanta. I had found a cheap apartment, gotten hired at an accounting firm, and was ready to start my new life. I thought my luck was really starting to turn around.

I had always been sort of unlucky. I’ve done it all: sat in wet paint, tripped in front of people I like, and fallen more than a dozen times in the cafeteria. So getting into hi-jinks was sort of normal for me. But after a few months in the city with no incidents, I thought that I had maybe left my past behind me.

One day, my roommate came home with flyer asking for extras for the newest Marvel movie. He tried to convince me to go with him, but I waved it off, pretending that I’d be nervous to be filmed. But really, I was just nervous to shake the status quo and mess up my luck. A couple of my coworkers had the same flier, and I’d ignore them too.

But the next Saturday, my roommate woke up with the flu. He could barely get out of bed, so he definitely wasn’t going downtown to film which had to be a sign. I fixed him a glass of tea, grabbed his papers, and quietly creeped out of the apartment. I tried to convince myself to back out the whole way there, but soon, I was pulling into the parking lot. Right now, with rent as high as it was, I just couldn’t say no to extra cash.

I signed in, and the poor intern running solely on caffeine didn’t even check my ID- he just stamped my paperwork, asked me to sign the contract, and waved me into the next room. For the next three hours, I did nothing but sit in a conference as the other extras were slowly called out of the room, one by one. Two of my coworkers were there as well, but they’d been called out in the first wave. I wanted to feel annoyed, but at least I was getting paid. Finally, it was my turn. I walked downstairs to a room full of extras, some from my room and a bunch of others that looked like they’d been filming for a while. Over on the right side of the room, half of the men had ripped shirts, flashing enough skin to get my mind moving. But I couldn’t think about that now. Nope.

The same intern from earlier started giving the pitch, talking almost too fast for me to follow along. I was assigned to be in the post-fight scene, which was filming last. All of the fighting had already happened, and I’d be one of the many stunned onlookers stumbling back onto the street.

After another fifteen minutes of waiting, it was finally our group’s turn to get in front of the camera. We were given our instructions again, and the filming began. I was supposed to run out of this building’s lobby, across the sidewalk littered with scrap metal, and into the street to stare at something flying overhead. Pretty easy. Or so I thought. Action was called and I ran out of the doors to see huge pieces of sharp metal all over the sidewalk. I thought I would be running over them, but some of the pieces were taller than I was. During the first few takes, I got into a rhythm- around this trashcan, past two metal pieces, around another one, into the street. But then some of us were moved around because they didn’t want all the extras in blue shirts near each other.

The next take was called and I ran out the door… and straight into some trash. I heard my shirt ripping before I even hit the ground.

Hey, Number 11, are you okay?

I looked down to see if I saw blood, but I couldn’t see any. All I saw was my chest displayed through the ripped fabric. Fuck.

I’m good, but I ripped my shirt.

That’s okay, I actually like it. Run the scene from the top!

I was shocked. I tried to find the director that was shouting out orders, but I couldn’t pick him out from the crew standing in front of us. I assumed that I would be replaced with another extra, but apparently the scene would go on. We filmed two more takes and luckily, I didn’t fall again. My shirt was another story- it was hanging on by just the collar with my entire chest now visible. Those other guys had rips on their shirts, but I basically had more rip than shirt. I was embarrassed, but at least I was in shape from years of farm work.

During the next take, I could tell that my bad luck was back. As I ran out, I somehow stepped on the hanging fabric from my shirt and fell to the ground. I tried to lift myself to my feet, but the leg of my pants had caught on another piece of sharp metal… I was stuck.

I need a PA to help Number 11. All other extras return to the start.

I heard someone running to me and looked up to see a gorgeous man kneeling down behind me. He gave me a quick smile and tried to pull the fabric, but it wouldn’t budge. After a minute, who I assumed to be the director had walked over to us.

I’m sorry sir, but this fabric is stuck in here. How do you want me to rip the pants?

Hmm, maybe at the knee? Or like a whole leg? Wait, lean up for me 11? I want to get a good look at you.

I twisted myself up into a sitting position and looked up. The director apparently liked what he saw. He ran a hand over my chest, and I’m not sure if it was an accident, but his thumb hesitated over my nipple. He lifted my chin so that he could see my face.

What kind of underwear are you wearing?

I was taken aback. Excuse me?

I can unbutton your pants myself to find out.

Fine, I’m uh, wearing briefs.

Are they white?

Yes sir.

Perfect. Sam, cut him out of those pants. It’s gonna be hilarious seeing a random guy running onto the scene in just some briefs.