The small red light on the handycam came on. She looked at the camera and smiled. A few seconds later, she looked up at him and raised her eyebrows, unsure about what to do next.

Chetan sprang into action; he shuffled the sheets of paper in front of him into a pile, and picked up the handycam. “Umm…I don’t want this to be like a…you know, question and answer…interview type of thing,” he said. “Let’s just keep it real, you go about your day and I’ll record it.”

“Well, okay,” she said, shrugged and got up to pour herself some coffee. “You want some?”

He looked at his half-full cup and declined.

She took a sip of her coffee, stood back against the kitchen counter and said, “Well, so, I don’t really have a fixed time to wake up every morning, it really just depends on my shooting schedule. But I’m usually up before noon.”

“Okay,” Chetan said. “Well, one thing I wanted to ask you is, about your name, how did you come up with Honey Moon?”

“Oh, it’s just an Indian thing,” she replied. “Indians have most of their sex during their honeymoons, most women still lose their cherries on their honeymoon, so being Indian, I just thought I’d go with a name that would mean something to Indian men.”

“Very interesting. And your real name is…”

“Vijayalaxmi Harshwardhan,” she replied, and laughed. “Obviously not right for a porn star.”

“Oh my god, that’s something,” he said, laughing along with her. “I think I’ll just call you Honey.”

“I’m now Honey,” she smiled, “not Vijayalaxmi.”

Honey turned around to butter some toast. They were in her kitchen. Chetan got up and focused the camera on Honey getting her breakfast ready. “So, how long have you been in porn?”

She looked over at him, at the handycam in his hands, and asked, “Are you sure you can do this? I don’t want you getting into trouble at school because of me.”

“No, no, I won’t get into any trouble,” he assured her. “My project is about…we’re supposed to document a day in the life of a famous person, it could be anyone…and you’re certainly very famous.”

“But I’m a porn star, aren’t you supposed to cover doctors or politicians or somebody inspiring like that?”

“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to feature someone very different…so, you know.”

“Well, okay, it’s your project, not mine,” she said, taking a bite of her toast before continuing. “I’ve been in porn for nearly five years. For me, it’s just another job, it helps me pay the bills and live comfortably.”

While Honey had breakfast, Chetan kept filming her and asked her questions about her life, her lifestyle. He had seen most of her pornos, repeatedly. For an Indian college student in a foreign land, Honey was what his dreams were made of. In an industry ruled by white-skinned women, she had made her mark as the most famous, dusky porn star of Indian origin. Honey was a niche, and Chetan was the market she catered to.

Expectedly, he was deeply excited at the prospect of spending an entire day with the woman who had spent numerous nights with him, in his dreams. He had fantasised about some things happening with her during the course of the day, he anticipated it to be the best day of his life. She was not only gorgeously sexy, but a porn star, after all. And he looked fairly alright; yes, he had a lot to look forward to on this day.

After a light brunch, it was time for Honey to work out. Chetan kept the camera running as they drove to her gym. Chetan waited while Honey sought permission to be filmed during her workout. They went into the cardio section once she had changed; they made small talk for the camera while she stretched. Chetan admired the curvy contours of her body, catching glimpses of her cleavage here and there. At one point, when Honey bent down to touch her toes, her well-toned buttocks were right in front of Chetan. It was the fear of getting slapped in public that stopped him from reaching out and grabbing her. He was glad when she finally finished stretching and got onto a treadmill.

There wasn’t much to talk about while Honey jogged on the treadmill, or for the rest of her workout routine. Chetan filmed her, zooming in occasionally on her various body parts. But she had been on his computer screen, without any clothes, so he eventually got bored and decided to wait for her to finish her gym session.

Honey looked gorgeous when she walked out of the showers, wet hair cascading over her shoulders, skin glowing, mouth smiling. Chetan believed she looked better without make-up, and wondered for the umpteenth time why porn stars wore hideous make-up in most movies. On the drive back home, Honey plugged her Bluetooth headset into her ear and talked to a friend on the phone. They were discussing shoes; there was a particular red heel that her friend had been looking for, Honey had seen one such pair, or something that came relatively close to what her friend had in mind, at a store nearby her place. When the talk moved from the exact length of the heel to the exact red colour, Chetan nearly fell asleep.

The conversation continued all through lunch. Honey didn’t eat much, so Chetan couldn’t either. They had a bowl of soup each, and shared a chicken salad. Soon, she had finished lunch and managed to convince her friend that the heels she had seen in the store were the exact kind her friend wanted. Chetan wondered if it would have been easier for her friend to just go to the store and check the heels out. But then, she wouldn’t be a woman if she did that, would she?

“So, how are things going? You getting enough footage?” She asked him, done with her call and her lunch.

“Oh, yes, yes,” Chetan replied. “I think I’ve got a lot stuff already.”

“Great, think we should move on to my highlight of the day?”

Chetan nodded eagerly. Would they go to the studio to shoot now, he wondered? Or maybe she wanted some practice before the shooting, practice with him. Giddy, he looked at her in anticipation. If he was dreaming right now, this is where she would do a striptease for him.

But she didn’t. “I need to take a nap now,” she announced.

And with that, his excitement crushed, Chetan sat down on in her living room while she headed to her bedroom, alone. While he waited for her, he dozed off as well. He woke up around an hour later, and slumped back on the couch again when he didn’t find her around. She finally emerged when it was already evening, seemingly dressed to go out. Chetan jumped up when he saw her.

“We’re going out?” He asked.

“Yes, I need to get some groceries.”

Chetan almost groaned out aloud. He was bored, and tired. He felt lethargic. The day was turning out to be nothing like he had expected. So far, it had been probably the most boring day of his life. But he still had hope; he dragged himself to a supermarket with her. He kept filming while she bought groceries, looking more like a housewife than a porn star. Some people looked at her twice, but she didn’t notice, or didn’t care enough to notice. Chetan pushed the cart around for her, filming her fill it up with mundane everyday things.

It was late in the evening when they came back to her place. Chetan helped her unload the shopping, and sat down on a chair, exhausted. He felt more tired mentally, than physically. He had waited for this day for long time, imagined numerous times how it would pan out. But nothing could have made him believe it would have turned out the way it had.

Once the groceries were put away, they were back in her car. Chetan wasn’t even interested in asking Honey where they were going. They were out of things to talk about, and since he had enough footage of her driving her car, he just looked out of the window. When the car came to a stop, Chetan looked out and saw they were outside a famous movie studio. Still weary, he got out of the car.

“We’re here,” Honey said, locking the car. “I begin shooting a new movie tonight.”

“Oh, great,” Chetan said, surprising himself at his apparent lack of enthusiasm. He had just had enough of this, he decided.

“So, you wanna come in and watch?” Honey asked.

This was what he had been waiting for; this was what he had dreamed of. But, “No, I’ll just wait for the DVD,” is what he said.