There’s a clattering noise as the camera is moved into position on the tripod pointing at an unmade bed. The subject is sat with his back against the headboard, one leg folded up so that his right foot rests against his left leg which is stretched all the way out to the end of the duvet. His toes wink and flex as he takes a long drag on his cigarette.
The subject is dishevelled, mid-to-late twenties, dressed in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. His hair has the same recently rumpled vibe as the bed and he looks curiously pleased with himself as he exhales, blowing the smoke toward the camera.
“The first time I cheated on my wife? Shit, man, it’s such a cliche. It was her best friend.”
There comes a muffled sound from somewhere behind the camera.
“Yeah, I know, right? Uh… no, she doesn’t have any sisters, just a brother and he’s not my type. Kind of a mouth-breather if you get my meaning.”
“It wasn’t like I intended to, no, there wasn’t like it was planned. I guess you could say spontaneous, yeah, except for the flirting beforehand.”