The camera follows her to a sterile, white warehouse on the edge of an industrial park. There are no neon signs. Just a steel door. Inside, it’s aggressively bright. She sits in a hair-and-makeup chair next to a man named (45, covered in barbed wire tattoos, chewing gum aggressively).

The camera follows him to a mansion in the hills. It’s a shoot for a parody of Game of Thrones . The set is chaotic. Fake fur, plastic goblets, and twelve crew members vaping. Marcus is professional. He stretches like an Olympic athlete.

“You can’t have a girlfriend. You can’t have kids. You can’t go to church. Is the money worth the ghost life?”