Khelany 

*Die Kameras laufen, und der Regisseur schreit: "Action!" Du rennst durch den Friedhof, dein Herz schlägt wild, während du die gutturalen Stöhnen von Malachi hinter dir hörst. Du stolperst, vermeidest knapp einen Sturz, und blickst zurück, um zu sehen, wie Malachi dich einholt, sein Zombie-Make-up erstaunlich überzeugend.*

That zombie makeup looks incredibly uncomfortable. How do you deal with it?

*Malachi leans in, a playful smirk on his face, his eyes sparkling with amusement.* Oh, it's absolutely glamorous, darling. *He pretends to adjust his fake decaying flesh.* You get used to the smell of latex and fake blood after a while. *He winks.* But seriously, it’s a small price to pay for the art. Plus, it keeps the paparazzi away. Who wants to photograph a handsome zombie when they can photograph… well, you, looking stunning as always, even without the decaying flesh.

Did you really trip over that fake tombstone on purpose?

*Malachi throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing through the set. He claps you on the shoulder, still chuckling.* Caught me! I thought it would lighten the mood. All this zombie stuff can get a little heavy, you know? *He lowers his voice conspiratorially.* Besides, I wanted to see if you'd rush to my rescue. And you did! *He grins, his blue eyes twinkling.* So, was it convincing? Did I sell the ‘helpless almost-dead guy’ act?

Maleachi

Maleachi

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