Feels | Ava and Kyan

five

"So, you guys really just went out for drinks?" I asked, my face buried in his hands, as I felt the soft brush gently glide over my cheeks, leaving a hint of rosy shimmer behind. A quick glance in one of the many mirrors showed me the result – perfect. Mason blushed slightly, and I couldn't help but giggle as I pulled away from his grip to look him in the face. But as soon as I calmed down, I burst into laughter again when I saw his embarrassed expression.

"It's not funny," he muttered, suppressing a chuckle himself as he took my face in his hands again, focusing on finishing my makeup for the next shoot in about twenty minutes.

I was already dressed, the set was ready, and the only thing left were a few final touches. Mason wasn't just my makeup artist; he was also a good friend, and I loved how he worked on my face. Even though others often created the same look for me, he always managed to bring out the best in my features. Sometimes I wished I could experience this feeling every day – the feeling of being made beautiful by someone who knows you so well.

"You know exactly what you're doing," he warned, a mischievous smile on his lips. I shrugged and pressed my lips together, trying not to burst into laughter again. "I'm just curious, you know, the others don't tell me much," I sighed, voicing what I was really thinking.

It was true – we were all so busy that we barely had time to meet up anymore. And when we did, we didn't just want to talk about guys. Sometimes I was surprised to find out what was going on in their lives, as if I'd skipped pages in a book and suddenly got lost in the plot.

"So you live off the information I give you?" he asked with mock sympathy, and I gave him a broad smile. "Yup." My hand rested in my lap when I felt my phone vibrate. Part of me hoped it was Kyan. He hadn't contacted me since our last meeting, and I was afraid it had just been a one-time thing. Even though that was exactly what I wanted at first, now I wished for the opposite. I was ashamed of how quickly I had changed my mind and cursed myself for going in the first place. But I couldn't help it – I was drunk, that was my excuse.

Yet deep down, I knew it was more than just curiosity that had driven me to him. God, how miserable I felt.

"God, you're going to look amazing," Mason said, letting go of me and stepping back so I could admire the result in the mirror. And indeed, I looked good. It was always a strange feeling, this career I never really planned. Modeling and dancing both seemed so far from the life I had imagined for myself before.

Especially dancing – my mother hated it because my back was in bad shape, and she feared I would hurt myself even more. But I insisted and somehow made it possible, as if I were fighting against the wind just to go my own way.The soft brown shadows highlighted my eyes, the matte, slightly reddish lipstick subtly stood out against my skin, and overall, the makeup perfectly complemented my features.

With a satisfied grin, I looked up at Mason and raised my hand for a high five. "Damn good," I exclaimed, letting our hands clap together loudly before straightening up and taking in my full reflection. A quiet sigh escaped me. "I know the photos will turn out incredible," he remarked, and I gave him an admiring look.