I'm Keira Knightley at the beginning of the first day making
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl and everything's going fine until they suddenly stop shooting...and have me change into a totally new costume [
see photograph--dowload to view full-sized]. "Nobody dressed like
this in the 18th Century!" I object, fruitlessly, but it doesn't make any difference: now, I'll be forced to act the role of Elizabeth Swann while looking so alarmingly sexy that I don't even fit the period attire.
The director soon gives me some private advice: "You have to play the scenes like you want to concentrate on the story but you're so impossibly pretty that you can barely think straight," he says. "That's why you're in this outfit: I want you constantly on the edge of posing and pouting, so that girls who see the movie are staring at you with pure evil hatred." I breathlessly agree to do my best — even though I realize I'll be playing every scene and speaking every line while in the grip of such intoxicating forbidden arousal that I'm practically suspended on the brink of orgasm.
Taking a deep breath, I step back out in front of the cameras in my sexy new attire...and an audible gasp goes through the entire crew. Everyone stares at me incredulously, and I shudder with hidden excitement because I know what they're all thinking: this girl is going to be a superstar — and I can
act, which will make it even better — but no matter how rich and famous I become I'll never overcome the perpetual tingle of erotic delight that comes with being Keira...or the excitement of moments like this, when I'm fearlessly absorbing everyone's envious gaze.
