MAS QUE NADA
MEGA Man hangs out with James Reid, Bret Jackson and their friends in Rio
The two hour drive up the hills flew by. It helped that everyone was asleep in the huge air-conditioned production vans that had been ferrying the team all around Rio de Janeiro the past few days. Upon arriving in Joá, it was midafternoon and the sun was giving off the best light, filtered by pregnant clouds and thick foliage wrapped protectively around the mountain. James Reid and Bret Jackson casually walk up the stately mid-century modern house, lighting up cigarettes and taking in the view. Lined up in millionaire’s row, the vacation estate has the feel of a Frank Lloyd Wright creation, all masculine angles, cold stone and animal hide, wedged rather dramatically against a cliff; below, the Atlantic stretches out dark and slightly menacing in its vastness. In the garden, someone turns up the Careless playlist in Spotify. Iced coffees and Guaraná, a shandy-like drink that everyone had grown addicted to during the stay, are handed out. More cigarettes. Let’s start the party y’all. Photographer Dookie Ducay stations himself on the roof and the duo, best friends who have seen each other through reality shows and teen stardom are goofing around, as buddies do. Their vibe is contagious and despite the rapidly waning sun, everyone is relaxed, joking, taking their time. We’ll get it, the photo will come.
Alright, alright, alright.
At one point James asks for a razor, suggesting a shot where he’s shaving Bret’s head. Alas, no razors. The duo settles for deck chairs and a steady beat. Click. A wave crashes against the rocks. Click. James and Bret squint against the sun. Click. Nadine Lustre slips into the scene in a teeny, tiny white bikini. Click. Done. It’s a wrap. Time to party.
Alright. Alright. Alright.