Lucifer:Keep the rest of this shoot professional, please? I’d like to end the year with no more lawsuits or social media smears. #TheJackDeaconOrgy just stopped trending. Thanks.
Jack:There needed to be more than three people for it to be considered an orgy. That was false advertising.
Lucifer:Your assistant is on his way to set. He’ll be ready when you are.
Jack:Thanks, Luce.
Jack:You can go back to eating small children or sacrificing goats now.
Lucifer:Just doing my part.
The only person who keeps my business life, and personal life for that matter, in check, is my fire-wielding agent, Luce. You’d never know that she stands at just about five feet tall since her bark and her bite scare the shit out of most people. That includes me, but she’s fiercely loyal and has dug me out of plenty of shit over the years. And while I throw her a fair share of things that most agents don’t have to deal with, she does it all. I pay her an insane amount of money, but she deserves every penny. We’ve both built up each other's careers, and along the way, we’ve built respect for one another as well.
After grabbing an espresso from the Illy Caffè around the corner, I feel refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of the day's session.
“What brand is up next? I need the heaters on. This place is fucking freezing. I don’t want to over-enhance anyone's junk in post so let's go people!” I yell out. Shuffling feet and chattering voices surround me. Their maestro is ready!
“Mr. Deacon, thank you, sir. I appreciate what you did earlier.”
I turn toward my equipment as my lighting director fixes a piece of blue filament over the foreground lights. I give him a nod and don’t move any closer to address what I know he’s referring to.
“Girls like Katie are one social media post away from self-destruction and an empty apology tour. Who calls people fags anymore? Like, seriously?”
I just smile and turn back to the chaos of the set.
“Let's get to work, people. I need makeup and hair cleared out. Here we go!”