Smitten

“Perfect.”

As the crew sets up their cameras, I head over to Alessandra sitting on the stage.

“I’m sucking,” she says. It’s a statement, not a question.

“Not at all. You’re perfect,” I lie. “This is what always happens on music video shoots. They get everything they need, and then move on to trying some different stuff, jut for the fun of it. This is par for the course.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Her shoulders soften. “Okay. Good. I was worried I was sucking.”

“Not at all.”

“Okay, we’re ready!” Maddy calls out. She comes to a stand next to me and addresses Alessandra. “We’ve already got everything we need from you. So, this next time through is just for fun.”

“See?” I say, and Alessandra beams a relieved smile at me. I look at Maddy. “That’s what I was just saying. You’ve got everything you need. This is just belts and suspenders.”

“Exactly.”

I turn away from Alessandra to walk to my mark behind the barista counter, and as I turn, I catch Maddy’s eye and flash her a secret “we’re in deep shit” look that makes her turn her face away from Alessandra and chuckle.

“All right,” Maddy says with authority, once everyone is ready and in position. “Cue music, please!”

The song begins blaring, and, once again, Alessandra begins strumming along. But this time, with her eyes on me, rather than Georgina.

Instantly, it’s clear this was a brilliant idea. Because when I smile at Alessandra to encourage her, she lights up in a way she wasn’t doing when she was performing to Georgie.

On a whim, just to see if I can get those blue eyes sparkling like crazy, I mouth the words, “I love you.” And the effect is unmistakable. Alessandra’s face lights up like a Christmas tree, even as she doesn’t miss a beat in performing her song.

“Yes!” Maddy says excitedly, her back to me. “Keep flirting with Fish as you sing, Ally! This is pure gold.”

I know Maddy will be overdubbing the track in the final product, which means I can say or do anything to elicit a reaction from Alessandra, and my end of things won’t make it into the video. And so, I decide to jump right in, without holding back.

I begin catcalling to her. And, again, the effect is remarkable. Solid gold.

“Yes!” Maddy yells enthusiastically. “Fish, whatever you’re doing back there, keep doing it, only turn up the heat!” She addresses Alessandra. “Ally, while he’s doing that, your job is to keep singing and playing, without ever actually smiling. Got it?”

“Got it,” Ally says.

“Cue music from the top!” Maddy calls out. And there’s no missing the genuine excitement in her voice. She’s on the cusp of capturing magic, and she knows it.

When the song starts again, I’m a man on a mission, determined to make my woman smile, even though that’s exactly what the director just told her not to do.

For a while, I’m a mime stuck in a box. Then, I’m a mime descending and ascending stairs behind the bar. I’m a flapping fish caught on a hook, being reeled into a boat. I’m a tragedy-comedy mask playing peekaboo with Alessandra, as I appear and reappear from behind the counter.

And through it all, the effect on Alessandra is un-fucking-believable. She’s glorious. Charismatic. Mesmerizing. Adorable. Indeed, there’s no doubt now Maddy’s got everything she needs to make Alessandra a star, and then some.

“Okay, one last time through the song!” Maddy yells. “We’ve got what we need. So this time really is a free pass. Just have fun with it, guys. Leave it all out there.”

I’m at a loss. I feel like I’ve already shot my wad by now, in terms of figuring out ways to amuse and entice Alessandra to smile.

“Take it off, baby doll,” Keane says from a corner. When I look at him, he winks. “Show her what the good lord gave ya, Fish Boy. Shake that skinny ass.”

I can’t help chuckling. Of course, that’s what Ball Peen Hammer would suggest, given his past life as a highly successful male stripper in Seattle. But, hey, just because the idea came from a guy everyone calls Peen doesn’t make it a bad one. But if I’m going to do this, then I’m going to do it right—from where Alessandra can see the entirety of my man meat.

As the song begins again, I step out from behind the bar, where Alessandra—and everyone else, unfortunately—can see every inch of me. And that’s where I launch into a no-holds-barred dance/striptease. Off comes my shirt, which I twirl above my head like a cowboy with a lasso, before chucking it across the room. Next, I peel off my pants, shaking my ass with fervor as I do. My dance moves in my underwear are herky jerky and awkward, and I know it. Probably highly embarrassing. But, still, I’m giving it all I’ve got. And, no regrets, baby, because Alessandra is absolutely loving it.