The Makeup Artist

“Robin, Last Look!”

Robin scurried over to today's guest, some self-help author. Who they were honestly wasn't her concern. How they looked was her priority. Robin quickly scanned the woman's makeup, hair, and clothes, looking for anything messy or out of place. She tucked a few stray hairs behind the author's ear, flashed her what she hoped was a reassuring smile, then called out to the stage manager “All good!”

Before the overwhelmed looking woman had a chance to react, the stage manager was already ushering her towards the set of The Clara Hour. Robin could hear the cheers of the live studio audience as Clara, the host of the daytime talk show, introduced the author. She found herself hoping the author relaxed some and manage to enjoy the moment. She seemed pretty nice, if a little in over her head. Robin turned, and started to walk back towards the small warren of hallways that made up the backstage area. She made her way past the dressing rooms, and wardrobe, until she reached the makeup room. The makeup room was small, only two chairs and a wall-length counter and mirror, but it served the purposes of the show just fine. Besides Clara herself, the only other people that appeared on screen was whoever the daily guest was. It was a small enough workload that Robin was easily able to cover it herself. All-in-all, it was a good, steady gig for a professional makeup artist.

Robin sank down into a well-worn easy chair that sat tucked away in one corner of the makeup room. Even though she shouldn't be needed again there was always a chance either Clara or the guest could need a touch-up, so she had to hang around until filming was officially wrapped for the day. She normally brought a book to read while she waited, and today she was looking forward to starting a horror novel a friend had recommended. She was just a couple pages in when her phone rang. She sighed heavily at the interruption, and seeing who was calling didn't make her any happier.

“Hello Thomas,” Robin flatly greeted her agent.

“Hey Robin. I got something for ya.” It was probably for the best that he couldn't see her roll her eyes.

“Like I've said before, if it's not prosthetic work I'm not interested.”

“C'mon Robin, just hear me out!” Thomas pleaded, “Just give me five minutes and then you can tell me no.”

“Or I could just tell you no now and save myself five minutes,” her finger began to drift towards the disconnect button.

“It's twice your current annual pay!” Thomas blurted out. “Twice your pay for just two months of work!”

Robin's finger froze in midair. There's no way that could be true.

“Robin...? You still there...?”

“I'm listening...” Robin could almost swear she could hear Thomas sigh in relief.

“Ok, bear with me on this and just let me finish before you hang up on me,” Thomas was rushing, obviously afraid that she would hang up on him. He'd been pitching her different jobs for years, but he'd never sounded this **** before. It aroused her curiosity. Thomas seemed to be catching his breath before continuing.

“So, it's a reality dating show tha-”

“No.”

“I SAID LET ME FINISH,” Thomas was truly going a mile a minute now, “It's a reality dating show that's apparently a real big hit in foreign markets. Now the producers want to break into the U.S. market, and they want it ready to go for the start of the Fall season. Hence the high pay. They're in a rush and they're trying to line things up quickly. Oh, and it's a location shoot.”

“A two month location shoot? There's no way I could swing that Thomas, I'd have to quit my job,” Robin had gotten up out of the easy chair and was pacing in the small makeup room. She couldn't believe she was even entertaining her agent on this.

“Oh please, “Thomas sneered, “You and I both know you're bored to tears putting Clara's face on everyday, Monday through Friday. Look, do this job and you'll be free to take whatever shitty two-bit horror project comes your way for the foreseeable future. All you have to do is spend two months slapping makeup on some bitches in an exotic locale.”

Robin stopped pacing, and caught sight of her frowning face in one of the makeup mirrors. She stared at the woman that had been working the same steady gig for the last three years.

“Thomas, can you send me over the contract to look at?”

“It's already in your inbox.” Thomas sounded relieved, “You won't regret this Robin.”

“I haven't said yes yet!” Robin protested, but he'd already hung up. Exasperated, she tossed her phone on the makeup counter, and rubbed her eyes. She sighed, lifted her head, and contemplated her reflection again. For someone that was a professional makeup artist, she put surprisingly little effort into her own looks. Her frizzy brown hair was up in a functional ponytail, and the only makeup she had on was some foundation. Her face was relatively plain with bushy eyebrows and a Roman nose, and her casual appearance was rounded out with the plain black t-shirt and jeans she was wearing.

Robin finally tore her eyes away from her reflection and picked her phone back up. She opened her emails, and found the contract for the potential job just like Thomas had said. As she reviewed the contract she discovered it was surprisingly everything her agent had promised. As she reached the end of the document, her eyes lingered on the electronic signature box. She raised her eyes, and took in the small makeup room that had been her anchor for the last three years. Her anchor, but also her rock. Could she truly justify losing a steady job for a two month gig, even if the pay was amazing? As her gaze drifted across the room, it came back to the makeup mirror, and she looked into her own eyes. She turned back to her phone, and deleted the email. She didn’t bother to let Thomas know she'd declined, she was sure she’d be hearing from him tomorrow.

For a minute she just stood there, not quite believing what she had just done. Finally, with a shrug of her shoulders, she begin to move about the room and gather her things. She slung her bag over her shoulder, and turned to leave. She opened the door and stepped through, never suspecting that this time it wouldn’t leave her standing in the backstage hallways.