He's a Wh0re

II

“That job isn’t for you, Emmie,” Ruth says, her voice firm.

“Ruth, I know you’re worried, but I want you to trust me. I want to try something different, something besides just hanging around this cafe. And besides, I could use the extra income. I’m not half-bad with a camera, you know.”

After some hesitation, Ruth eventually agrees to let Emmie take over her work, offering her guidance and advice.

Emmie arrives at her first job assignment feeling nervous but determined. The room is cold and sterile, and though her heart races, she forces herself to calm down.

“Are you sure about this, Emmie?” Ruth asks, her eyes searching Emmie’s face.

Emmie nods, giving Ruth a small smile of reassurance. Ruth is still worried, but she trusts Emmie to take care of herself, even if the job is far from conventional.

Ruth is a camerawoman at Quro, an adult film company. When she needs to take time off for surgery, Emmie steps in, motivated by the high pay. And as she reasons, operating a camera is still within the realm of her photojournalism background.

At first, Emmie struggles to adjust to the job’s unconventional nature, but she focuses on the technical aspects of filming, viewing it as just another job. Her ultimate dream is to break into Hollywood as a photojournalist or producer. Although her life in LA hasn’t gone as planned, she’s determined to make the best of her circumstances. Ruth coaches her on capturing the right angles, helping her settle into her new role.

On Emmie’s second day, the team throws a welcome party for her at a club. She’s never been to a club before, and the loud music and dancing crowds make her uncomfortable. She heads over to the bar to order a drink, quietly observing the people around her.

“One vodka, please,” she says, smiling at the bartender.

As he hands her the drink, she notices a man sit down beside her and feels his gaze. She tries not to look, but curiosity gets the best of her. He’s undeniably attractive, though his aloof expression and sharp remarks make her wary.

“Do you have to lean on the bar like that to order? What’s there to show off, anyway?” he says dryly.

She feels her cheeks flush, embarrassed, but she gathers herself and ignores him. The bartender, Roy, notices and leans in, trying to ease the tension.

“Not the usual club attire,” he says with a grin, gesturing at Emmie’s conservative coat and gloves.

Emmie laughs, awkwardly explaining that she’s just here to meet some coworkers. She throws a wink at Roy when he jokingly asks if she’s hiding something under her coat, then turns away from the handsome stranger, deciding not to engage further.

“Hey, handsome!” a voice calls out.

I look over to see yet another woman throwing herself at me. It’s the same routine: clinging arms, seductive gaze, and empty promises. I’m barely interested, but she leans in persistently, her lips grazing mine.

“Pathetic,” I mutter, pulling back. I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate this.

Just then, her boyfriend appears and swings at me, landing a solid punch. My security steps in, quickly pulling the guy away, and my frustration grows. At this point, I’m done.

The woman hurries away as my men deal with her boyfriend. As I glance around, I catch a glimpse of that odd woman from earlier—the one from the bar, watching the whole scene unfold with wide eyes before quickly looking away.

The next day, I see her at work, and it clicks that she’s the new camerawoman. She’s dressed like she’s trying to disappear, with baggy clothes and a half-done hairstyle. When she catches me looking, she gives a quick, awkward smile and hurries off.

Emmie tries to keep her focus on the camera, blocking out the distractions around her. Today, she’s filming a scene with two actors, and though the setup is anything but conventional, she manages to approach it with professionalism. Her goal is to do the best job she can without letting the nature of the work distract her.

Leanna, a striking Russian actress, is one of the stars of the scene, while her partner Santy brings a brooding intensity to the set. Emmie appreciates the technical skills needed to capture the scene, viewing each shot as a step closer to her ultimate dreams. As long as she’s behind the camera, she feels in control, no matter how chaotic or surreal the scene may be.

Emmie worked hard to keep her face straight, her hands steady on the camera as Leanna and Santy performed in front of her. She forced herself to tune out the sounds around her, focusing on the mechanics of the camera—checking angles, lighting, making sure everything looked professional.

But her concentration slipped as she caught sight of someone watching her from across the room. Abe, with his arms crossed, leaned against the doorway, his dark gaze trained on her. A smirk played on his lips, and Emmie felt a prickle of irritation mixed with something else she couldn’t quite place.

What is he doing here?

The last thing she wanted was for Abe to see her in this environment. She was still rattled from their run-in at the bar last night, her mind replaying his cocky smirk and the way he seemed to unnerve her with just a glance. Now he stood there, openly watching her, as if testing her every reaction.

She fought to keep her composure, eyes fixed on her work, but her heart was hammering. Was he judging her? Mocking her? Or did he know something she didn’t? As the scene continued, she caught Abe’s expression harden, a flicker of something darker behind his eyes. And just as quickly, he turned and walked away.

As she watched him walk away, Emmie couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming—something she wasn’t prepared for.

"Tsssshh why do I care?" She rolled her eyes mentally.