The chaos of the studio lot was a familiar symphony to Maryanne Morton, Lena Thomson, and Ramona Hammond. Individually, they were Hollywood royalty, silver screen goddesses whose faces launched a thousand ships and graced countless magazine covers. But together? They were an unstoppable force, a trio of dazzling charisma and playful mischief that kept the entire crew on their toes. And today, their target was Matt Adams.
Fresh in the studio, new meat, with his boyish good looks, it was fun for Maryanne, Lena Ramona. They could tease him until their heart’s content.
Working with Maryanne, Lena, and Ramona was like a roller coaster ride. He’d even been caught practising his lines in the mirror, mimicking the gravitas he admired in their performances.
Maryanne was the first to pounce with her trademark smoky voice, blonde hair and eyes that could melt glaciers. During a break, she leaned against the prop table, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, Matthew,” she purred, “I understand you’ve been diligently studying my filmography. Which of my roles is your favourite?”
Matt blushed, his ears turning a delightful shade of pink. “Uh, well, Miss Morton, I admire them all. But your portrayal was just…breath taking.”
Lena, with her Jett black hair and quick wit, chuckled. “Breath taking, was it? Good heavens, Matt, you’re going to make us blush! It was just a bit of corsetry and a well-placed fan, darling.” She winked, sending Matt’s blush spiralling.
Ramona, the elegant matriarch of the group, had a voice like honeyed velvet. A tiny smile played on her lips, and a knowing glint was in her eyes.
Matt stammered, wholly outmatched. Incredibly nuanced performances, Miss Hammond. “The three women exchanged a look, a silent communication passing between them. They had him now.
The teasing continued throughout the weeks of filming. They’d playfully teased him, making him blush. They’d call him “Matty boy” or “Our little munchkin their voices dripping with mock seriousness. Initially flustered, Matt learned to navigate their banter, realising that genuine affection was beneath the playful barbs. It became clear that their teasing welcomed him into their world, an initiation ritual for a young movie maker about to take flight.
He also discovered that they were equally susceptible to a bit of teasing of his own. Despite his initial nervousness, Matt had a cheeky streak that the ladies soon unearthed. He might innocently ask Lena about her choice of men.
Subtly imitate Ramona’s dramatic sighs with perfect comedic timing. Once, after Maryanne had relentlessly teased him about his love for the camera angles, he presented her with a portfolio of all three of them and the angles he had taken them in. “Perhaps you’ll find something you like within these pages.”
The three goddesses, while outwardly amused, were secretly impressed. Matt was holding his own, giving back as much as he received. Their teasing wasn’t about putting him down but about seeing him rise to the challenge, sparking a confidence they knew he possessed.
The sets became filled with laughter that echoed genuine camaraderie, an unspoken bond forming between the three seasoned actresses and their bright, young director.
Matt was no longer just a nervous newcomer; he was one of them, a part of their little world. He still felt like he was in heaven, but now it was a heaven where he felt comfortable enough to banter with the angels, knowing that their laughter was a shared delight. He was undoubtedly still naive, but he was learning, growing, and most importantly, having the time of his life, thanks to three silver screen goddesses who decided to take a relatively young movie master under their wings or playful claws.
The set felt less like a workplace and more like a delightful game, one that both sides played with equal amounts of wit and heart. And amid it all, Matt knew that he wouldn’t trade it for anything, even if he were still being teased. He was finally part of the magic.
Thank You for Reading
Deborah C. Langley
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