You are Michele Anderson, the disgraced former co-owner.
At the moment, you find yourself standing outside the studio, enjoying one of the few pleasure that your life still allows, cigarettes. The poisonous smoke fills your lungs as you take a deep drag, hoping to delay your entrance as long as possible. Sixteen years of dealing with the endless bull crap that was acting under Nathan's commands has left you the resident cynic.
Still, you can only put if off so long. Tossing your cigarette into the nearby rubbish bin, you take a deep breath and slink through the studio's double doors. Hoping to avoid your coworkers, you tip-toe through the empty lobby and make a bee-line for the dressing room.
"You're late, you know," a disgustingly familiar voice says from behind.
"Hello, Nathan," you say, pivoting around. "And yes, sorry about that, Adam needed a ride to school today."
"Adam is your responsibility," he replies, "not mine."
"Are you kidding? The only reason I had him in the first place is because you insisted I get pregnant after you turned me into a woman!"
"Bah, quit whining. If you're really upset about being a woman, I can fix that."
He raises a meaty fist and grabs forward, digging his hand into your left breast. Your legs twitch in unwanted pleasure as his finger tips dig in to your breast flesh, soon making contact with the hard saline globes that make up most of your bosom.
"Think about it, you could be like Jessica!"
Your heart drops at the mere mention of her name. Jessica was, or is, technically, another actress at the studio. It was a few years ago that she royally pissed of Nathan and, in revenge, he used a loophole in her contract to have her changed. She was transformed into a breast implant and, under his orders, had her implanted into your chest.
"I-I'm good, sir. I'd much rather stay as I am."
"Perfect. Now then, since you're so eager to stay, go get ready. The scene we're filming today is..."