I was auditioning for a part in a reality TV show. I was to be the roommate of three other women who were all Amazonian, model-perfect blondes. I was also blonde and back at my normal weight except for about 10 pounds. I obsessed about minimizing and hiding this weight during the whole dream. We had reached the final stages of competition and were living together in a remote luxurious cabin in the woods, cameras all around.
Then the dream shifted location: it was in New York City. Because I was in NYC I wanted to see Albert, and he met with me but was cold and distant. He rebuffed my sexual advances. He also didn't want to be around me much, because he disapproved of the TV show.
Which had now morphed into a reality show about four prostitutes living in a brothel on a cruise ship, and I was still vying for a part. The cruise ship was orbiting earth, but I could still get to NYC (teleporting? it just happened) for the social events surrounding the show and to see Albert, who eventually just disappeared.
I spent time in the private pool on the ship that I shared with the other aspirants, swimming and lounging around in a blue bikini. Although it was our pool and our luxe suite, there were traditional elderly cruise ship passengers who thought we were dirt and made indignant remarks about our presence - just because we were whores.
Then I had to contend with the producer, who had brown eyes with amber pupils that gleamed like a cat's. He was a sleazeball who did a lot of cocaine. He couldn't make up his mind about my body, and did a lot of leering and touching. After I'd seen one too many flashes of yellow from his eyes, and wondered to myself if they were contact lenses, I also wondered if the whole show was worth it.