Page 57 of The Casting Couch

I glanced back at the wall of men.Some were stretching.One was shadowboxing.Another was doing vocal warmups, like he was preparing for a cum-themed Les Mis.

Oh my god.

These were the guys.

The ones who were going to stand in a circle and… you know.Do the thing.

On me.

I felt my stomach try to crawl out of my body like, “Nope.Not today.Find another host.”But if I was gonna get through it without combusting, I had to stop cringing and embrace the madness.

Before I could decide whether to laugh or run screaming into traffic, I heard someone call my name.

“Bradley!”Laura, looking annoyingly fresh-faced for this early in the day, was crossing the room in her usual ponytail-and-glasses combo, clipboard in hand.She smiled, waved me over, and then looped her arm through mine.

“Thanks for being on time,” she said, already steering me down the hallway.“These guys are just finishing up their paperwork and then we’ll start auditions.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.“You’re really saying that like we’re about to cast a regional Guys and Dolls revival and not… you know.”

She just patted my arm.“Bradley, the only revival we’re doing here is your bank account.”

Fair.

We reached the main studio and pushed open the double doors and walked into bedlam.

Moira was flailing near the lighting station, her giant hair already defying gravity and logic.“You want me to make up how many guys?!Jesus, I ain’t got enough sponges for this!What do I look like, Sephora on steroids?!”

Nessa was barking orders in every direction like a Broadway stage manager on her fourth espresso.“No, not those towels!They’re for faces, not dicks!And someone please find the good lube, not that off-brand strawberry crap.That shit stains.”

As soon as she spotted me, her eyes narrowed like a heat-seeking missile.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Bradley Mitchell,” she said, strutting past with a stack of folders in one hand and a coffee in the other.“About to become the most decorated pastry in porn history.”

Then she vanished into the next room like a chaotic queen, leaving behind only the scent of vanilla perfume and judgment.

Before I could form a comeback—or at least a facial expression that wasn’t pure regret—Liam and Jack appeared, looking equal parts awkward and earnest.

“Hey,” Jack said, giving me a small smile.“How are you holding up?”

“Ask me again in an hour.”

Liam stepped forward, already blushing.“So, uh, we were thinking… it might be nice if you got to choose the guys who, you know…”

I raised an eyebrow.“Who what, Liam?”

He turned redder than Moira’s nail polish.“You know.Do the, uh… finishing part.”

I almost felt bad for him.Almost.

“Well,” I said, deadpan.“It’s good to be involved in the creative process.”

Jack stifled a laugh and clapped me on the back.“Honestly, you’re being a champ about this.”

“Oh, totally.This is the dream.I mean, who doesn’t fantasize about casting their own bukkake lineup?”That’s when I turned to Laura, who had somehow remained terrifyingly serene through all of this.

“Wait.Just to be clear, this is just the audition, right?We’re not doing a full rehearsal?Like… they’re not gonna get naked and start cranking it?”

Laura blinked at me, calm as a Zen monk in a porn studio.“God, no.This is just to get a sense of presence, vibe, chemistry.You’ll meet the guys, see what kind of energy they bring.Actual shoot’s tomorrow.”

---