Cheryl Sakurai (April 14, 2026)

Today is day 2 of my master plan! And…wow.

I encounter the Lav that Aarya brought up. Her full first name is Lavender, and Lav is just what her friends call her. I instantly recognize her from a few B-list teen dramedies I remember watching a few years ago, although I can’t remember her characters’ names or her last name for the life of me. She looks vaguely Hispanic to me, with raven black hair, brown eyes, and tawny skin.

I’d just arrived at the set when Lavender notices me.

“Hey there!” she exclaims. “You new here?”

“Yep,” I reply. “Second day.”

“Have fun while you can,” she states, “because…um…yeah.”

I then overhear her talking with Daisy. 

“Daze,” Lavender says, “how long do you think the new girl’s gonna last?”

“Ehhhh….” Daisy replies, “she was here yesterday. Maybe one more day?”

“Girl,” Lavender smirks, “that’s exactly what I wanted to bet! Now I gotta bet two…”

“You’ll have your fun next time,” Daisy smiles.

There’s a betting game on entry level hires? I think. 

I then meet the director - Carey Locksmith, although everyone just calls him “The Director.” He has light brown hair with a hint of red, and an ivory toned face. Going off his slight wrinkles, he appears to be in his mid-to-late 40s.

“Hello,” he greets me, shaking my hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t show you around yesterday.”

“It’s fine,” I reply, “I figured things out.”

“Wonderful,” he responds. 

The director stares me up and down, eyes squinted.

“You look gorgeous,” he compliments me. “How old are you…young lady?”

“18,” I mutter, “...why?”

“Ah…18,” he caresses me. “The perrrrrrfect age.”

Come on, I think, I’m aromantic…

Suddenly, Lavender comes speed-walking towards me.

“You can’t have her!” Lavender exclaims. “She’s not into men!”

The director slowly backs away, puckering his lips.

“What a shame,” he sighs. “It seems none of you are.”

He walks away murmuring something to himself.

“Heya,” I turn to her, “thanks for shooing him.”

“No problem!” Lavender replies. “Also, I just told him you were queer to make him chase you less.”

“...Less?” I wonder.

Lavender gulps.

“Hehe…” she warns, “there’s a lot of things wrong with this set…”

It doesn’t take long for me to figure them out.

…

The average time on set for actors and their assistants on Mistletoe Blue is supposed to be 16 hours per day - except on Sundays, which are supposed to slash the hours in half. From what I’ve looked up, movie set hours can be pretty long. They average about 12-14 hours per day, and 16+ hour workdays are not uncommon. However, Mistletoe Blue has been in production for over a year - and besides Christmas and New Year’s, yesterday has been the closest the set has gotten to a break day.

Now, 16 hours wouldn’t be so bad…except for the fact that the starring crew gets no real breaks once the day starts. For legal purposes, they do have breaks - in the sense of periods when they don’t get paid, that is. Unofficially, they are forced to clean lounges and rooms that entry level hires are mostly forbidden from entering.

The meal time is also apparently atrocious. There is a “no outside food or beverage” allowed rule, which, given the delicate nature of the set, is understandable. But the only two meals a day appear to be small dishes that either have very much unclean salads or rare meats bordering on raw. The salads are also rather mouldy. In addition, actual eating is restricted to 10-15 minutes, with the rest of the hour being used for either cleanup or makeup.

As for the director? Well…he’s someone, alright. 

First of all, he’s a perfectionist. He tells me to reshoot every scene I already did yesterday, and does not let anyone go until I record exactly as he wishes and the actors act their scenes to the letter. By “exactly how he wishes,” I mean that even the slightest centimetre off his desired angle on a clip is Sick And Wrong™. Also, there is no room for ad-libbing whatsoever.

Of course, perfectionism is a somewhat common tendency for directors and producers. However, it turns out that he has some rather…fascinating views on women on top of that. You see, he loves admiring female beauty in basically every way possible - and I do mean every way possible. Age is just not a number to him.

He leers at virtually every single woman on set; me, Daisy, Lavender, the interns and other crew girls. I’d need more than two hands to count the number of times he asks me to angle the camera away from my chest so he can stare at the latter, which is odd considering that I’m not even an actress. When he’s not ogling me or overworking other employees, he’s constantly lamenting the fact that we’re all too sapphic to be his mistresses; even to underage workers. 

I try to keep my mind off of this, as much as I can, while the director is busy taking a phone call. I proceed to use this opportunity to talk to Marcus. After all, he is my alt-universe’s friends’ murder target - not that I tell him this.

“I like your acting,” I compliment him.

Marcus turns to me, his hickory coloured face looking vaguely startled.

“Thanks?” he replies. “I’m surprised you’d say that…”

“You know,” I add, “if you ever want to talk to someone-”

“Nah,” he hesitates, sniffling. “I’m…good.”

The director returns from his phone call with his teeth clenched.

“Why are you sitting around, Santana?” he yells at Marcus. 

“Uh-” Marcus opens his mouth.

“Get back to work!” the director tells off all of us. “You have all been disappointments today!”

(Wattpad version: https://www.wattpad.com/1652912555-the-daisy-theory-chapter-9)

(Tumblr version: ​​https://www.tumblr.com/talesfromasnarkylisa/825768195672670208/the-daisy-theory-chapter-9?source=share)