Everyone arrives at the cabin

You walk inside the cabin and take your coat off.

The living room looks like it was assembled piecemeal from whatever furnishings the owner had available. The area is 12' by 12' with a small gas-powered fireplace as the room centerpiece. The walls are dark wood-paneled and the ceiling is a dull white with a popcorn finish. The floor is light brown hardwood with what appears to be fur area rugs. There is one deep red recliner, two light blue sofas, and a wooden coffee table all clustered around the fire. In the far back corner, there is a white table with four stools around it. Along the back wall, there are three wooden doors leading to other rooms. The space is pretty crowded with stuff but it may be for the best if 15 other people are going to cram in here.

You see George has taken over the recliner absorbed in whatever he has on the tablet he's holding. At the back table, you see a black woman with long, kinky hair. You'd guess she was in her early 30s and she's sorting through a black plastic toolbox full of what appears to be makeup supplies. She waves you over and stands as you approach. She's wearing jeans and a deep blue sweater making you more comfortable that casual is the watchword of the day.

She offers her hand.

"You must be Simone, our last minute model? My name is Rocquelle, I'll be your makeup artist."

You take the offered hand and squeeze it lightly.

"That's me. Glad to meet you!"

"I love your skin tone, you are going to be so easy to work with!"

"Thanks. I swear I spend a small mint on product to keep it this way."

She laughs, "I bet you do. Normally I'd dive right in and get to work, but I have no clue what look I'm supposed to accomplish with you. I'm afraid only Lon and his scriptwriters know. I suspect it'll be a bit on the dark side though. I'm not sure if he just likes the goth look or caters to that audience but most of his models get at least a touch of it. Redheads are pretty easy to work with there though."

She points at the far door.

"Just so you know, that's the kitchen and the other two are small bedrooms. The bathroom is on the other side of the road. George set up kerosene heaters in them to warm it all up but if you can hold for about an hour it'll be comfy over there."

"Thanks. Anything I need to know?"

"I wish I could tell you but I'm not sure since they threw the biker script out due to your contract. He decided there was no way he could afford a big enough teaser for that much anal," she laughs.

"Probably not."

"We'll see what they come up with. It was supposed to be a day shoot starting this morning but the cancellation has pushed it late. He's a moody fellow but normally gets along with the 'talent' as he calls you models. Everyone here is replaceable except for you and him," she looks you up and down. "Even if all the actors quit right now, he'd have no trouble scrounging more up short notice. You're a pretty girl. Guys would line up for a chance to stick their dicks in you. Models are much harder to replace."

Your cheeks color a bit, "Ummm thanks? So we just wait?"

"Yep. Lon will likely wander in near 5 or 6. He's carpooling with the script guys to try and get this ready. He's not the type to just totally wing it."

"I guess we just wait then?"

"Exactly. Enjoy the downtime."

You walk over to one of the sofas and sit down, then pull your phone out and play some games. Luckily the cell service seems decent out here, it's a small park as those things go but you still weren't sure how good the connection would be. Over the next couple of hours, people show up. The three women take over one of the bedrooms and stuff a makeup table and a bunch of clothes in there for wardrobe.

The guys filter in over time, all driving motorcycles of various shapes, sizes, and volume levels. Probably a relic from the original plan for the shoot, you figure. You exchange greetings with all of them but they mostly gather in small groups talking among themselves and leave you be. You aren't certain if this is normal with models and shoots or if it's specific to you or this project. Either way, you can live with it, the company didn't gather all of you together to socialize after all.

It's about 5:15 when the man you have pegged as the director walks in. He's a short white fellow, about 5'4" with long salt and pepper hair braided down his back. You'd place him in his later 40s. He's wearing khaki pants and a dark red sweater. He's followed by two young men that look barely out of high school. One is an Asian fellow and the other is white, both are wearing jeans and a t-shirt. They seem totally unremarkable except for the fact they are carrying large briefcases and seem almost glued to the director's back. He picks you out of the crowd rather quickly and makes a beeline to where you are sitting. You stand up and offer a hand.

"Hello, Sir!"

He looks you up and down. You feel like the man's deep brown eyes are almost looking through you. He ignores your hand and addresses you in a deep baritone.

"You must be Simone. I wish we'd had time to actually write for you. You have a look I could definitely tailor a script for."

He waves the two men off to the remaining bedroom.

"Grab your coat and let's walk. It'll be best to handle the details one on one," he says and then turns to the room. "Ok people, we are burning daylight. Get things revved up, we have a picture to shoot."

You throw your coat on and follow him out the door, bursting with curiosity as to what this fellow has planned for you burning in the back of your mind.