Chapter 2

When she left her family, she told them she was going to find a better life. Her mother was devastated to see her leave so young, but she had no way of stopping her. There wasn’t enough money to keep her at school, and her younger brothers and sisters needed mothering more than she did. She could hardly believe her luck when the man came to their house, and offered her a job as a nanny in London. Was it really as easy as that to move to another country? With a job in England, she would send them as much money as she possibly could. Her friends were so jealous she was going to London. That’s where the celebrities lived; that’s where people had a chance to make it big. But when she arrived, the job wasn’t what she thought at all. She told him she'd never done anything like it before. He didn’t seem to mind though, and was hardly listening when she checked to make sure he knew how old she was.

‘You are beautiful, Veronica. You are going to be a huge star,’ was all he said.

The first scene they shot wasn’t as bad as she thought it might be. There was only one man, and it didn’t last long. They told her what they wanted her to say, and what they wanted her to do. It almost was like acting, sort of. Her English wasn't great, but luckily they didn't care. They seemed pleased it was the first time she had had sex. She would never admit to her family she lost her virginity this way. But you had to lose it somehow, and wasn’t this quite an exciting way to do it? It hurt a lot, but she knew it probably would; a friend told her the first time was always like that. The man was experienced at least, and he didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. She even felt proud of herself at the end, when he told her how well she had done, how many great shots they got. It gave her enough confidence to feel she could get through the second scene only two days later. Different hotel room, same crew, different actors.

These men weren’t as nice as the first man. They were rough, and hardly said anything to her. One threw her all over the bed, changing positions every few seconds, making the sex disjointed and painful. And the takes all seemed to last forever too, much longer than she was comfortable with. There were at least three men in each scene, each one with more energy than the last. She tried to make it look like she was enjoying herself. She tried to ignore the pain searing up her thighs, and making her stomach hurt. She didn’t want to make them angry if she didn’t perform.

She felt sad at the end of that day, and the sadness hadn’t gone away since. The man who hired her let her stay in his apartment, and sometimes took her out to bars. But he also expected something in return. She thought he might have liked her to begin with, but it soon became clear he was only interested in sex. Whenever he wanted. Sometimes he told her she was doing well in the films, but she felt something wasn’t right. Why did he let the men be so rough? Not just rough, but cruel. One slapped her really hard in the face and the crew didn't even react. Another one tied her wrists behind her back and threw her on the floor. She almost cried out in pain, but managed to stay professional, even though her leg was bruised and sore. Then the man she was staying with disappeared, but luckily she had a key to his place, so she stayed there alone. No one ever said where he’d gone, but the work kept going. Other men were organised to deliver her to the set. She hated it more and more each time.

She didn’t know who to turn to about how she felt. Nearly everyone she met in England seemed wrapped up in themselves, and not at all interested in her. She managed to make one friend, a girl she overheard speaking her language at the grocery store. She didn't tell her what she did for a living though; she was too embarrassed to explain. Then there was a girl on the set of the film one afternoon, to whom she spoke for a little while, admitting she wasn’t enjoying herself. The girl, Molly was her name, was getting her makeup done at the same time for filming in another room. She was older, and seemed really friendly, motherly almost. She wished she could talk to her again now. But she hadn’t seen her since then, and that was months ago. At the time she told herself if this girl was ok with the filming, maybe she was just immature. Maybe this was what it was like to be a real actress.

Today she overheard them say it was the final scene, so at least she could look forward to having a break for a while. She had been brought to a different hotel as usual, but something seemed strange. There were usually a crew of three or four on the cameras and the lights, a lady doing makeup and a couple of younger guys who ran errands and bossed her around. But today there were only two men whom she'd never seen before. They told her to do her own makeup, and didn’t even give her anything to wear. Usually they gave her lingerie; expensive lacy pieces that made her feel grown up. But she was only wearing plain white briefs and a black bra today. Was this ok for the film? When she went into the bedroom, she could see Big Ben from the window. Maybe she could do a tour of London once she was paid, and explore this city she was living in.

While one of the men was organising the lights, the door opened and another man strolled into the room. Unlike the other two, he was wearing a suit; she thought he was perhaps the boss. She had never seen him before.

The man with the lights said: ‘We’re almost ready to go, Jared.’

The newcomer had a smile on his face as he opened the mini bar, and took out a bottle of champagne. ‘We’ve nearly finished. Let’s celebrate before we start. Lance, Ian, do you want some bubbly?’ He poured four glasses of champagne.

Then he said to her: ‘I’ve got a special treat for you. It will make this one better than the others.’

She didn’t know what he meant by this, but could sense it was not a good idea to disagree. He handed her three small tablets, and watched closely as she obediently put them in her mouth and took a small sip of champagne. She hated the taste of alcohol, and hardly noticed the bitter taste of the pills as they slid down her throat. The three men gulped their champagne, and then got down to business.

The scene started much like the other scenes. Jared stood in the corner, and watched as one of the men filmed. The third man positioned her on the bed, and then striped down to his underpants. Usually there were lines to say, but she hadn't been given any today, and the man seemed to want to get started with the sex straight away. She tried to look pleased as he started to rub her breasts and put his fingers inside her. But unlike other times, she was finding it hard to concentrate on how she was performing. A dark cloud seemed to be forming in her mind, making the room more muted; everything seemed slow and grey. Just as she felt her eyelids close, she was shocked awake by the man tearing her underwear off in a violent rip. He used one hand to hold her down, and the other to pull on the cotton. The elastic burnt her skin as it snapped. His fumbling hand tore at her bra, breaking the straps, and leaving red marks on her shoulders. Tears welled in her eyes. She had hoped this scene wouldn’t be as rough as the others, but it looked like it was going to be even rougher.

She knew she shouldn’t struggle, but she couldn’t help it when he forced her legs apart, and started pushing himself inside her. He drove in hard and deep, with more force than she could bear. The pain was worse than it had ever been before. And even though her head felt fuzzy and dazed, this didn’t stop her feeling like her insides were being torn apart. He thrust so hard her head was slamming into the backboard of the bed. She cried out in pain, no longer caring what they thought of her performance. She just wanted it to end. She could see Jared standing in the corner behind the camera man, completely ignoring her eyes pleading with him to make it stop. The man started clawing at her breasts, leaving scratches down her chest and stomach. No one seemed to mind her crying and pleading. Even with her mind jumbled, she could tell they wanted her to be desperate. They wanted her to look like she was trying to get away.

The cameraman was close to the bed now, and seemed to be focusing in on her, enjoying her anguished despair. Just when she thought it might be about to end, the man on top of her seemed to get another wave of energy, and attacked her with renewed force, throwing her body into a new position, and twisting her legs towards him like she was a doll. She felt clumsy and heavy as she tried to escape his grip. As he changed position again, this time pushing her back against the top of the bed with a sickening crunch, she finally saw Jared move towards the bed. How could he watch her go through this? When he lent in to speak to the cameraman, she heard his words: ‘Get on with it, he’s almost done’.

Get on with what?

She struggled even harder, trying to force the heavy body off her. But she was wedged between the man and the bed head. The harder she struggled, the more force he used to thrust into her. The pain got so bad she almost wished she could black out, to make it go away. She tried to scream but his hand was over her mouth. And just as she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, both his huge hands closed around her throat. She couldn’t get any air into her lungs, and everything did indeed start to go black.

The cameraman moved the camera even closer to her, zooming in on her face. She could see Jared still standing in the corner, motionless. His face was devoid of concern, and even had a glint of satisfaction that repulsed her. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she tried to open her mouth enough to bite the man’s wrist, but he was too strong; she couldn’t move her jaw. She didn’t want them to have the satisfaction of looking into her eyes, so she closed them, and clenched her mouth shut. Her head felt ready to explode; the pressure was unbearable. And then it was over.