Russia...
Becky Banks, 30, was due to start filming later this week on an artistic film. It was a sophisticated movie about integrity, and managing one's life in the face of economic turmoil and war. She was going to be playing one of the principle roles, a pregnant woman in charge of a vast enterprise on the brink of collapse. Her conflict with an aspiring entrepreneur and businessman was crucial to the movie, and she was eager to play the part.
What she was doing now was nothing like that. Her agent had booked a commercial in the same area, in the same week as shoots for the movie began. It wasn't a company that Becky knew. It was called Yaral Industries, and they weren't making a great impression. Few of the people on location seemed to know how to speak her language. The few that did were giving her directions for the commercial, but they knew nothing about directing.
Becky was standing in front of a giant green screen, with nothing but a tall stand beside her. She preferred actual sets, but she was patient. On the stand was a can of the energy drink, Xpect, that was being sold. She knew nothing about the product, who it was marketed to, or what it really tasted like. She didn't think that it was for her, in any case. She tried to hold back her comments to the director.
The paycheck was inordinate; that was the only reason that Becky was willing to take such an easy job. She preferred artistic and effortful productions.
"Now, Mrs. Banks, we are going to do the taste shots. After that, we'll be done."
Becky was ready. On cue, she gave her line, "Xpect, fills you with life," in Russian, and drank from the lukewarm can beside her. She immediately convulsed. The taste was horrendous, but she swallowed what she could. "What the hell is this stuff?" she cried.
"Cut. Mrs. Banks, let's keep going until we get the shot," said the director.
She grumbled. Maybe this isn't worth it, she thought. Nonetheless, she kept going. When one can was done, they brought out another. Then another. As the director said, they went through as many cans as they needed to get the best reaction shot. Becky, for her part, put on a masterful performance.
"I'm never doing a job for this company again," she texted to her agent. The day had finished, and Becky Banks finally returned to her hotel. When she got home, she vomited in the bathroom.
"I have never tasted anything so foul," she growled. "The things I have to do." She decided that she would need to reevaluate her relationship with her agent. Finally calming down, she looked around the hotel for her husband, who was still out. He loved to sight see, but she hated when he went without him. Not that she had the same appreciation for architecture; she just didn't like her husband to be away for too long. The perils of the industry, and whatnot.
Her husband's name was Arthur, and he was a great actor in spite of himself. Arthur didn't like the entertainment industry, but he had a natural talent. She didn't know exactly what kept him working as an actor if he didn't like it, but any time she asked he was quick to brush it off. Something just compelled him, she decided. He was that kind of person.
Disgusted with herself, and eager to take a break the next day, Becky put on some music and went to bed. The beginning shoots for the movie were a few days away.
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