The entire shoot had me on autopilot. I'm honestly not sure why they didn't fire me today because I couldn't concentrate on a thing.

We were quickly introduced, where I learned whom was Larry and whom was Laurent.

They knew my name now.

They knew my fucking name! No hiding now!

Every time I saw the man, Larry, that spoke to me, whisper something to his twin Laurent, I went into panic mode. I just knew he was telling on me. I wasn't sure if he was or not, more-so leaning towards the not telling on me side to make myself feel better, but also because Laurent never looked at me as if he knew my dirty little secret.

I wish I had booked my hotel earlier. Maybe it wouldn't have left me stuck with such limited options, where I would've ended up at the hotel I was staying in. Or just maybe I wouldn't have ended up picking that hotel anyway, but I would've ended up in another room, away from the outdoor view that allowed me to see them. 

I thought about that night when I booked for my stay, how the only hotel was the one I was at, which only had one room left. How ironic was that?

I didn't have much time to contemplate on it more, as I realized that our work for the day had finally come to an end. It went by too slow and too fast; please don't ask me how that's possible. It just was.

I was already in my room, had already got out of the shower, and was listening to GPS by Galimatias. 

The thought of the movie Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, starring Will Ferrell came to mind. It was the part where he said, "I'm not sure what to do with my hands!"

 I literally had no idea what to do with myself at this point. I was low-key wanting the dark sky to fall, in hopes of seeing another free show; one of the best live performances I've had the pleasure of viewing. At the same time though, I really wanted to quit my once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity job just to avoid these beautiful beings and the embarrassment .

True, I only spoke to one of the twins; the one called Larry, but I'm sure that the other sounded very similar, if not, as identical as their faces were. With that being said, I don't know if I could handle hearing both of those sexy, French-laced accented voices being spoken to me all at once and being 100% positive that I wouldn't have an orgasm right then and there.

It was late afternoon when I laid down on the bed and grabbed the remote to turn on the tv,  having déjà vu of the previous night of me flipping aimlessly through programs that gave me no interest whatsoever. 

Needless to say, I was on autopilot as I flipped through the channels. My mind roamed; dirty thoughts consuming it, making me twirl my hips with thighs clenched as I laid under the sheets, eye's closed as fantasy land consumed me, taking my attention away from the television.

Eventually, I surprised myself by waking up from the slumber I was unawarely in. I got up and went straight for the mini fridge placed on the bottom part of the desk/tv console unit, thankful to find a bottle of water so graciously greeting my tongue that was suffering from drought.

I sipped vigorously, welcoming the coolness, satisfying the thirst that came as fast as my awakening had. My groggy mind switched so quickly at the realization of the night sky greeting me through the peeks of the sheer curtains that covered the French doors to the patio. 

I tossed the bottle of water on my bed, sprinting to the doors. I halted almost instantly and took a deep breath. I didn't know what I was expecting. I shook my head at the thought of how fast I brought myself to the doors, as if I was late for a movie I had paid expensively to see. 

Out of curiosity and hopefulness, I opened the doors anyway, quietly I might add, careful as to not make a sound. It felt as though I was a 15 year old sneaking out to meet the boyfriend my parents didn't approve of. 

Making myself comfortable on the couch on the patio just as I did the night before, I listened and waited

I listened and waited, I listened and waited...

NOTHING.

I felt as though I had waited three days before I gave up hope. Letting out one of the biggest sighs of the century, I headed back indoors and decided to make myself a cup of tea, wishful thinking that it would conjure up a repeat of the previous night.

I raised and dropped the teabag to release the taste and aroma of the tea leaves into the cup of boiling water. Since last night, I noticed how impatient I was being about everything. Normally, I would just brew the teabag in the cup of water and wait, but I was anxious about the tea being finished in order to drink it. 

The fuck is wrong with me?!!

The problem I had with that question/statement, is that I knew exactly what was wrong with me; I just didn't have the balls to admit it. 

They had me sprung.

Not only sprung, but fantasizing, desiring, wanting.... whatever else word one chooses to use, I was that.

I sat curled up on the bed, deciding to settle on some show called Plus Belle la Vie. It seemed like a soap opera, similar to the American show Days of Our Lives, or some sort. I've always hated those styles of sitcoms. Being in the film industry myself, there's just something about 24fps. Plus Belle la Vie seemed to be shot in that format or 30fps at most.

Although I couldn't understand shit, it kept me intrigued enough.

Now, I would consider myself to be 'pretty aware' of my surroundings, but this jet lag really must've been fucking me up. 

Do you remember the previous night, where I mentioned hearing something that may have not been there? It was happening again. Maybe it was only because of my anticipation for tonight and my expectations of what it would bring, but when I said I hit the power button to turn off the tv as soon as I heard it, I mean every part of that. This time, it sounded like my name being called.

Not once, but three times.

Almost like the volume  juuust over a whisper.

My ears perked at the sound, and I knew immediately that it was coming from outside. I had an idea of who was calling me, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions because of the excitement and thrill that was taking over my innards. 

I wasn't aware that I had left the patio doors open after falling into slumber and I went outside after waking up,  almost expecting the encounter to happen, but I did.

It didn't take much time for me to make my way to the patio again in the most composed demeanor I could muster in order to hide my prolepsis.  I looked down in expectancy, almost sure and knowing the owner to whom the voice belonged to.

Sure enough, there he was, standing more graciously and more beautiful than I remembered him being the night before and earlier in the day. The way the moonlit sky hit the side of his face made him look that much more godly to me. From the down-angle I was looking at him in, as my torso leaned cautiously over the railing, made his cheek bones and jawline look even more chiseled than before as he peered up at me.

The visual below me made me envious of how his twin had free roam of the perfection of his face and neck with his lips.

He said my name once again, almost trying to confirm that I was me. That's when he said, "You have the perfect view. You know that, non? You ready again?"