Page 11 of Rhythm and Rapture (Behind the Lens #5)

I consider this. The calendar would be another revenue stream, another way to secure Kael's treatment funding. But it would also be more exposure, more risk of someone recognizing me despite the mask.

"Creative control?" I ask, because I've learned to negotiate in this industry. Never accept the first offer, always clarify the boundaries.

"Full creative license within the theme.

You choose the concept, the execution, the wardrobe—or lack thereof.

You can even choose to work with other performers if you want collaborative content.

" She pulls up something on her tablet, showing me examples from the other months.

"Monty did a threesome scene for February that was basically fine art. Sold more prints than any other month."

The images are genuinely beautiful—thoughtful composition, dramatic lighting, bodies portrayed as art rather than just flesh.

Action shots that capture movement and passion without being crude.

This is what Lorna does best—elevate adult content beyond the crude and into something approaching actual artistry.

"Photography will be Chad," she continues.

"He's our exclusive photographer for the calendar.

We only work with him for these shoots—he's the best at what he does.

Filmography is Monty for the video content that accompanies each month's spread.

Both are required—stills and video. They're both professionals who understand the assignment. "

She pauses, studying my face with the intensity of someone reading a complex equation.

"The calendar requires full intimate scenes, not just suggestive poses.

Given what you shared during your interview about your.

.. experience level... I need to know if this is something you'd be willing and able to do. "

The question hits me like a physical blow. She's asking if I'm ready to lose my virginity on camera, essentially. My mouth goes dry.

"Take a minute," Lorna says, reading my expression. "I need to check on something with the filming crew anyway. Think about it."

She leaves me alone in her office, and I stare at the alien tattoo on her desk lamp as if it might provide answers. My hands are shaking slightly.

This is what I've been avoiding for five years.

Not just sex, but the vulnerability that comes with it.

The risk of losing control, of letting someone see me as more than just a brain or a caretaker or a problem-solver.

I've built my entire identity around being strong, independent, unbreakable—because Kael needed me to be those things.

But sitting here, I realize I've been lying to myself.

It's not just about time or money or mathematical equations.

It's about fear. Fear of being seen, of being judged, of discovering that maybe I'm not as strong as I've pretended to be.

Fear of wanting something for myself when I've spent so long only wanting things for Kael.

The irony isn't lost on me—I've been explaining human sexual response to thousands of people while being too terrified to experience it myself.

I know the biochemistry, the neurochemistry, the psychology.

But I've never known what it feels like to be touched by someone who wants me, to surrender control long enough to discover what my body is capable of feeling.

Maybe this is exactly what I need. Not a fumbling encounter with someone who might want more than I can give, but a controlled environment where I can explore my sexuality on my own terms. Where I can experience something I've been denying myself while still maintaining the boundaries that keep me safe.

And if I'm being completely honest with myself, there's something appealing about the idea of being desired, of being seen as more than just a brilliant mind or a devoted guardian.

Something appealing about finally understanding what I've been teaching others about, about bridging the gap between theory and practice.

When Lorna returns, she takes one look at my face and nods. "You've decided."

"I can do it," I say, and this time I mean it. "Actually, I think I need to do it."

My phone buzzes with a notification. I glance at the screen and can't help the smile that spreads across my face.

Roman: We're intrigued. And partially concerned. But mostly intrigued. Should we be preparing release forms? Safety equipment? Our last wills and testaments?

Ash: I vote for all of the above

Felix: What exactly did you have in mind for this collaboration?

Suddenly, I know exactly what my collaboration will be. Everything starts clicking into place with almost audible precision.

Lorna notices my expression change. "Good news?"

"Actually, yes." I look up from my phone. "I think I know exactly how this collaboration is going to work."

"Oh?" She raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, the alien tattoo seeming to lean forward in interest.

"I want to do the June shoot with partners. Three of them, specifically. Musicians who understand the intersection of art and science."

"Musicians?" She taps her pen against her lips thoughtfully. "That's actually brilliant. Music and chemistry, rhythm and reaction... I can see the vision already. Tell me more."

"They're called Fractured Theory. Independent artists who've been watching my streams. They reached out about a collaboration—I think this could be perfect. Educational content about the chemistry of attraction, but with this added layer of artistic interpretation through music."

"Ambitious. I like it." Lorna nods approvingly, already making notes on her tablet. "They'll need STD tests, NDAs, and a list of hard no's. Standard protocol for any collaborative content. Full panel, recent results—we don't fuck around with health and safety."

"Of course."

"The calendar photoshoot is in four days, on Thursday. Think you can coordinate that quickly?"

Four days, less than that really. To arrange tests, travel, contracts, and mentally prepare for meeting three men I've only known through a handful of messages and a few hours of increasingly flirty videos while stuck in LA traffic.

Men who know me only as The Hidden Chemist, while I know them only through their music—lyrics that somehow speak to my soul despite never having met the people who wrote them.

It should feel impossible. Instead, it feels like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place. "I think I can manage it."

"Good. Send me their information by the end of the day and I will overnight all of the documentation needed.

June is yours, Sabina. Make it memorable.

" She sets down her pen and looks at me with something that might be maternal pride if Lorna did maternal.

"You've grown so much since you first walked in here.

From a desperate grad student with a fire in her eyes to one of our most requested performers. I'm proud of you."

The unexpected sincerity makes my throat tight. "Thank you. For everything. For giving me a chance when I had no experience, for respecting my boundaries..."

"Stop, you'll make me ruin my reputation as a heartless bitch," she says, but she's smiling. "Now get out of here and go plan something spectacular. I want June to be the month everyone remembers."

As I leave her office, my mind is already racing through possibilities. A collaboration with Fractured Theory for National Sex Day, combining chemistry education with musical artistry, exploring the science of attraction while maintaining the mystery that makes The Hidden Chemist compelling.

I pass back through the warehouse, the familiar chaos taking on a different energy.

For the first time since I started here, I'm not just thinking about next month's treatment costs or how many streams I need to cover Kael's medications.

I'm thinking about creating something that actually excites me.

Something that combines all the parts of myself I usually keep separated—the scientist, the performer, the woman who spent three hours flirting with musicians and remembered what it felt like to just be.

My phone buzzes again. This time it's a text from Kael's school:

Kael had a great day! He taught his classmates about chemical bonds during share time. The teacher said his explanation was 'remarkably sophisticated.' He used his snack crackers to demonstrate molecular structures! See you at pickup!

I smile, tucking the phone away. My brilliant boy, already teaching others at five years old. Everything I do is for him, but maybe it's time to also do something for me. Maybe it's time to stop being scared of falling apart and start building something worth celebrating.

On that note, I pull out my phone and start typing a response to Roman:

The Hidden Chemist: How do you three feel about California? Specifically, how do you feel about being part of something that would make history? I need an address - I have some very official documentation to send you.

The response is almost immediate.

Roman: California? Documentation? This escalated quickly.

Ash: I KNEW IT. I TOLD YOU GUYS.

Felix: Ash has been packing since your first video. He's not even joking.

The Hidden Chemist: Smart man. You'll need those bags if you accept what I'm proposing. Address?

Roman: [Address attached] The fact that you're being mysterious about this is either very exciting or very concerning.

The Hidden Chemist: Both. Definitely both. Package ships out tonight. Read everything carefully. And boys? This is where that whole "expanding your definition of acceptable variables" thing becomes very, very relevant.

Ash: I'm vibrating at frequencies visible from space

Felix: We can confirm this

The Hidden Chemist: Good. Hold onto that energy. You're going to need it. Talk tomorrow when the documents arrive. Try not to overthink too much tonight.

Roman: Says the woman who just turned our world upside down with mysterious documentation

The Hidden Chemist: Your world's about to get a lot more interesting. Trust me.

I laugh out loud at their responses, earning curious looks from a few people in the lobby. Nova raises an eyebrow at me as I pass her desk.

"Good meeting?" she asks.

"The best," I reply. "June is going to be fucking incredible."