I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair, in a giant studio, with a slide of the fray's logo glowing on my face, blazing into my eye, on one of the hottest days in San Francisco history.
The photographer saw the sweat on my face. "Let's get him some makeup," he said to his assistant, who hurried me into the other room.
"I'm not used to being on this side of the lens," I said.
Her eyes were kind.