Karen pushed the door open and walked straight over, looking at Shane, who was warming up.
"Finished recording your course?"
"All done. Your timing is perfect."
"Haha, I knew it. I timed my arrival."
Shane walked over to another toolbox and started setting up a reflector board, preparing to adjust the camera settings.
He had planned to set the angle himself and just have Karen press the shutter. But at that moment, Karen walked up quickly.
"Let me try."
"Elements of photography: lighting, angles... the model. I haven't been doing nothing these past few days."
Shane looked at Karen with a bit of surprise, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey, when did you secretly learn all this?"
"Why? Shane Gallagher is allowed to secretly turn into a hunk, but I, Karen Jackson, am not allowed to secretly learn some other skills?"
Karen lifted her chin with a bit of pride.
"I'm not going to be that kind of woman who only knows how to quarrel, then reach out for money, or just wait foolishly for her boyfriend to succeed. You want to build your empire, you gotta have a... um, you gotta have a Chief Recording Officer."
As soon as Karen finished speaking, she began some slightly stiff directing:
"Go, stand under the light and turn sideways. Yes, tighten your lats a bit more. Don't look so fierce, relax a little. Turn your face a bit more this way... about 45 degrees."
Although Karen's tone was stumbling and carried traces of textbook memorization, it was obvious she had practiced reciting this repeatedly and put in some effort.
Shane didn't offer any opinion. He listened to Karen's commands and struck the various poses she wanted.
After shooting a set, Shane walked over, and Karen handed him the camera. "Look."
Shane took a few glances. From his professional perspective, some photos could be tweaked a bit more for better results.
But out of the corner of his eye, he saw that "Hurry up and praise me" expression on Karen's face... If he pointed out flaws right now, he'd just be asking for a fight.
"Ahem."
Shane coughed and said:
"Not bad. Much better than the random shots I was planning to take blindly. I'll use these for the first batch of photos on my account."
The corners of Karen's mouth couldn't stop rising, looking a little smug.
"Of course I know I shot them well."
But before they could shoot a second set, Karen's small hand couldn't wait to touch his abs again.
"Photos are done. Shouldn't you give me a little tip for my hard work?"
Shane's mouth hooked up, revealing a smirk. "So how do you want me to pay?"
Saying that, he pulled Karen directly into his arms, his left hand exploring inside.
Karen let out a soft hum, her fingers constantly tracing over Shane's muscles.
"Seriously, how exactly do you train these muscles? I feel like they have magic. Even though I've seen them so many times, touched them so many times, I still feel like I can't see enough."
Shane felt a bit ticklish from Karen's touching. He grabbed her wandering hand directly and lowered his head close to her ear:
"Looking isn't enough, my Chief Recording Officer. Wait until we're done with this, wanna study my training results?"
Karen didn't speak, kissing him directly. "Then come straight to my house later. I want to ruthlessly inspect your training results."
Not long after, the two separated again. Shane said:
"Alright, let's finish shooting quickly. Then we can go to your place."
Before Karen could respond.
"Hey, Shane, I decided, I'm going to start changing tonight..."
The door connecting to the bar was pushed open, and Kevin's rotund figure walked straight in.
The next second, looking at the slightly flushed faces of the two and the obviously ambiguous atmosphere, he froze on the spot:
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I come at a bad time? Maybe I'll come back tomorrow."
Kevin turned to leave as he spoke, but Shane spoke up to stop him. "No need, no need. You came at just the right time, Kevin. Besides, I don't have a hobby of live broadcasting."
Kevin glanced at Karen with a guilty conscience. Karen had no expression on her face; after greeting him, she walked directly to a chair nearby and sat down.
Kevin finally breathed a sigh of relief and walked towards Shane.
"Right, right, right, come straight over here." Shane picked up the video camera again, started checking the equipment, and then changed the memory card.
"When measuring the data, I also need to shoot some 'before' footage of you to put in the video. So the audience knows at a glance that this fatty definitely needs saving."
"Didn't you record it once before?"
"Being over-prepared is never wrong."
V had appeared at the doorway at some point, wearing a look of enjoying the show.
"Oh, looks like we're starting to record the prehistoric form?"
Although they were already an "old married couple," Kevin still didn't want V to watch him make a fool of himself later.
"Hey, Veronica, could you..."
Snap. V closed the door, then leaned against the doorframe. "No. Continue."
"Take off your clothes," Shane said, adjusting the camera angle without looking back.
"What? Now? Here?" Kevin's eyes widened. "It's freezing, brother. This warehouse doesn't have heating."
"What are you afraid of the cold for? I want your most authentic state."
V: "Ha, that layer of fat on you is enough for the entire South Side to survive the winter."
Kevin wailed. He looked at Shane, then glanced at his wife. Both had expressions saying "Hurry up." He had no choice but to reluctantly take off his jacket and T-shirt.
Now Kevin was shirtless. His body was round and pale, with no trace of muscle visible, just pure fat.
"Alright, now do 30 burpees in place. Standard form, as much as you can." Shane raised the camera and aimed it at Kevin.
"30? Shane, I'll die." Kevin thought of the feeling of being better off dead after doing a dozen last time. He wanted to try bargaining. "20? Can we do 20?"
"35." Shane directly started increasing the number.
"Come on!" Even though he was still a bit reluctant, Kevin started doing burpees.
The first few, Kevin still barely looked the part. But starting from the 8th, his form began to distort; by the 10th, Kevin was panting heavily.
V was on the side, cheering for Kevin appropriately: "Go baby! Look, your blubber is clapping for you~"
When Kevin reached the 21st, he flopped to the ground to start the push-up part of the 22nd. His palms were on the ground, but his arms started "flapping like butterfly wings"—he couldn't push himself up no matter how hard he tried.
Finally, he stuck his butt up, face pressed against the floor, gasping for air in big mouthfuls. The soft flesh at his waist and the flab on his chest rose and fell with his violent breathing.
Shane zoomed the lens in, recording his current state, specifically aiming at the flab on Kevin's side waist that jiggled with his movements, and the fat layer that had a slight sheen from sweat.
This was the most authentic initial material, the most convincing footage for his video.
Finally stumbling through the last two, Kevin sat on the ground, gasping for breath.
But before he could rest for long, Shane started a new round of testing.
He pointed to the other end of the warehouse. "Okay, next step. Run from here to that wall, then run back. 10 times."
"10 times? Just kill me." Kevin lay directly on the ground, starting to rot.