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Jack nodded, giving me a rare, genuine smile, the kind he usually reserved for Liam or big subscriber milestones. “We want to thank you for trusting us with your comedy career. It means a lot. We’re gonna work our asses off to make sure you’re a success.”

My stomach did this weird, flippy thing. “Wow. Thanks, boss.” I gave him a little salute. “I like the sound of ‘success.’ Sounds expensive.”

The table chuckled.

Nessa leaned forward, her huge acrylic nails tapping against her iced coffee like castanets. “And speaking of expensive… your management contract’s ready.” She pointed at me, all sly grin and Bronx attitude. “After this meeting, I’ll give it to you to look over.”

Liam immediately jumped in, waving a forkful of salad for emphasis. “And get an entertainment lawyer to review it. Seriously.”

I gave him a thumbs-up. “Obviously. I like to know exactly how I’m selling my soul.”

“Good man,” Liam said.

Jack set his pen down with a little clap against the table. “Okay. Now, for the real reason, we’re all here.”

Everyone shifted in their chairs. Moira put down her phone. Even Laura sat up straighter.

Jack gestured toward Nessa like he was passing a live grenade. “Ness, you wanna explain?”

Nessa beamed like it was Christmas morning and she’d just unwrapped a pair of Louboutins. “Absolutely.” She flipped open her notebook and pushed her sunglasses up onto her head like a Wall Street executive, if Wall Street executives wore hoop earrings and hot pink lipstick.

“So. Earlier today, I had a visit from a couple of Japanese businessmen.” She gave a dramatic pause, letting that sink in.

“They’re here in the States for some kind of…

tech conference? Anyway, they found our site, watched a few of our videos, and they want to hire us, Boys On Film, to produce a custom scene for them. ”

Laura blinked. “Wait… an outside contract? Like… an actual commission job?”

Nessa nodded. “Yep. Fully funded. Their production company wired over the deposit already.”

There was a collective buzz of excitement around the table. This was big. Like… real-world, industry-recognized big.

“They’ve offered…” Nessa flipped a page for dramatic effect. “…almost two hundred thousand dollars for the project.”

The entire room went silent.

Even Jack looked like he might faint.

For about three full seconds, the only sound was Moira’s straw sucking the last inch of coffee from her cup.

Then, all at once…

“Two hundred K?!”

“Holy shit.”

“Are you serious?”

I just sat there blinking. Even Bradley—poor traumatized, still-pink Bradley—looked like he was having a mild out-of-body experience.

Liam held up a hand like a traffic cop. “Okay, hold on. This all sounds amazing, but… what exactly are we making for them?”

Jack smirked. “Glad you asked.”

All eyes swung back to Nessa. She bit her lower lip, clearly savoring the buildup like it was dessert.

“When I heard what they wanted,” she said, voice syrupy with fake innocence, “the first person I thought of… was Bradley.”

Everyone turned.

Bradley froze like a deer caught in very judgmental headlights.

“Wait, what? Why me?” His voice cracked halfway through.

“Yeah… why Bradley?” Liam asked, glancing between them.

Nessa clapped her hands once. “Because the project is… drumroll please…”

Moira tapped on the table obligingly.

“…a gay bukkake video.”

The room went dead silent again.

I felt my pulse kick up, suddenly wide awake. “Okay wait… I’ve heard that word before… but I don’t actually know what it is.” I looked around the room like I was expecting someone to say it meant “group hug” or “team-building exercise.”

Laura gasped like I’d just admitted to not knowing how to use Google. “Oh, my God. No. Are you sure we wanna go there? Boys On Film’s never done something that hardcore before!”

Nessa waved her off like she was swatting at a fly. “Laura, sweetie, did you not hear me? Two. Hundred. Grand.”

That shut everyone up again.

I mean… we were all whores in different ways. But two hundred thousand dollars? That was… retirement money. Health insurance money. Rent-for-a-few years money.

Liam gave Jack a look. “We’ve… never done anything like this before.”

Jack’s expression stayed cool and calculating. “We’ll figure it out.”

I raised my hand like I was back in high school. “Okay, but like… what is it, though? Someone explain for the people in the room who don’t have a porn PhD.”

Moira snorted into her coffee.

Nessa smiled at me sweetly. “It’s simple, baby. One guy kneels on the floor… and a bunch of other guys… finish on him.”

My brain took about five full seconds to process that.

I turned to Bradley just in time to see all the color drain from his face like a cartoon character fainting.

He pushed back from the table like he was about to make a run for it. “Hell no,” he said. Loud and immediate. “Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m letting a bunch of guys jizz all over me. No. Nope. Not happening.”

I kind of wanted to applaud. The man had conviction.

Jack leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table, that signature wicked grin spreading across his face. “Would you do it… for twenty thousand bucks?”

Bradley froze mid-freakout.

I could practically see the math happening behind his eyes. Rent. Debt. Food. Survival.

He swallowed hard.

And then, after the most painful, reluctant pause in history, he said, voice both soft and doomed:

“Yes. Yes, I’ll do it.”