[Complete] Ariel and the Bandits

9 - Oliver the Oblivious

"They're ready for you on set, Oliver," one of the production assistants informs me.

Jake has his eyes shut as the make-up artist blends some concealer under his eyes. We're just about done filming the last of this Calvin Klein commercial for the day. It's been filming for weeks, but Jake and I have small parts more toward the end, and we each have about thirty seconds of screen time in total. And given our somewhat busy schedules during our off-season, today worked best to film our parts.

I think the commercial concept is a great idea, although, like everything you put out into the universe (or at least out there for the world to see), it's always going to have some kind of feedback-- negative or positive.

The creators aimed for inclusivity in their concept-- anyone who happens to be attracted to men--women, men, and anyone in between with different identities and/or sexualities-- have gathered for (what the film crew made it look like) a city-wide boxer raid.

Spliced in between this raid are film snippets of two unrevealed individuals (Jake and I) going through routines. I am getting home from a long day while Jake is getting ready for bed.

I step out to the rest of the studio and walk the set to a bedroom and bathroom. The bathroom has the essentials - sink, toilet, and shower-- all in a modern design. The bedroom has basic, expected things from a guy like me. Dark-brown rustic furniture, a strategically organized mess with football equipment scattered around to say "Oliver Parks room!" I even brought in a picture from home to stick in a picture frame.

I shrug off the cotton robe, leaving me in nothing but a blue swimsuit brief. One of the assistants rushes over and takes it from me. My hands instinctively run to my lower abdomen. Before they try to expose my lack of comfort, I pretend there's a slight itch I scratch before bringing them down to my sides.

I have no problem being naked in the locker room showers with my teammates, but this is different. Image is crucial here, but it doesn't matter in the locker room. Taking a deep breath, I stick my hand out to test the shower water. After the water is lukewarm, I step in and let the water hit my chin and neck. They turn off the water.

"Who the hell forgot to adjust the showerhead to his height?" The director says. They pinch their nose bridge. "Park, do you mind squatting just a bit for the shot? You know what? Actually-- Someone get him a stool or something. Thanks!"

Within seconds, one of the film crew members rushes to me with a high, backless barstool. Once they start filming, I act consciously natural. They have me run my hand through my hair so many times that my arm grows almost as tired as it does throwing a football.

When the director is satisfied, I step out of the shower. They ask me to hold off on drying to film the next scene. Stilling wet, I stand in the doorframe of the staged bedroom and bathroom. By the eighth take, an assistant keeps my hair wet and helps me re-wrap my towel low around my waist to give the impression that I'm naked. My Calvins are in my hand. One of the actors sits at the fake windowsill. Cameras are pointing in both of our directions.

"Could I help you?" I say. He looks down at the Calvins in my hand. The camera follows his shift in focus from my face to the boxer briefs. He smiles victoriously.

"And cut! That was it! A great take!"

The assistant rushes over and hands me my robe. I slide it on, feeling much less weird about just having on a swimsuit brief. The director calls me over to look at the take with them.

"That was amazing, Oliver. I didn't know you could act."

I smile. "Just don't ask me to sing."