San Fernando Valley, home to all things porn.

It's where I work, it's where I 'play', and it's where I live. With Californian sunshine, breezy beaches and a ton of hot bods to match, what more can I possibly want?

Except for the traffic of course, like most crowded cities on earth, taking the highway down to the valley is bitch on most mornings. I tap my steering wheel of my Ford Mustang irritably waiting for the car in front of me to get a move on. A Starbucks cappuccino rests in the coffee holder to my right, tempting me with the scent of freshly roasted Arabica coffee beans. Fuck it. I might as well be waiting forever to get through traffic this thick.

The giant Styrofoam cup feels warm in my hands. I bring it to my lips and take a sip. A fresh coffee-flavored wave of good vibes overwhelms my senses and wakes me up. Oh coffee, I don't know what I'll do without you.

I watch as the car in front of me starts moving forward again. Returning the cup back to its rightful place by my side, I step on the clutch and shift to the first gear, inching forward in line with it. The car in front of me stops again, and I sigh, coming to a stop. At this rate, I'm going to be late for my shoot.

Luckily I've learnt to drive fast when I can and put my skills to good use, arriving on the set barely a minute late.

Lights, camera, action! It's all the glitz and glamour of a real Hollywood set, minus the acting and multiply the sex. Even the cameras here are real high-tech compared to the hand-held camcorders mostly used on amateur internet sites. Stage crews, make-up artists, random people flit by in a hurry, singularly focused on the task assigned to them.

It's no simple feat, organizing and performing a shoot, especially when you have schedules and budgets to balance.

"Alex! You're Alexis Suxx, right?" I look up, finding my director waving at me. His tortoiseshell tea shades don't match his beige golf cap. I've worked with numerous directors at Solid Slut Studios in the past, but this is the first time I've meeting this guy, let alone working with him.

"Yeah." I nod my head, watching him point to the wooden door with the bright star slapped on it.

"Go get changed and your hair done, your help's inside waiting for you!"

He seems nice enough under pressure; most directors will just scream and belt out a continuous spray of expletives for being late. I hope he's like this for the rest of the shoot.

The door opens and dazzling bright lights greet me as I go on in. My make-up artist and hairstylist look at me expectantly.

"Sorry, traffic's a bitch." I smile at them. It's always better to be pleasant and likable than moody and a bitch to get along with.

They smile back understandingly.

I sit in the assigned chair, looking at my blonde curls in the mirror.