Birds With Broken Wings

35* Graffiti World

So here we were, trying to look as natural as possible with full makeup on.

"I'm done now," Goke finally released my neck as he stepped away from me and I instinctively raised my hand to massage my now stiff neck.

"See the magic," he whirled the chair around so I could see the girl in the mirror through the walled and huge mirror, and for the briefest and flick-est of seconds, I was awestruck at the girl staring back.

My face didn't look like it had an iota of makeup on it, kudos to Goke on that but the make-up in disguise or disguise makeup had woven a web of magic so intricate that it made my face look like something I'd never seen before.

It made my face come alive if that was possible with a blemish-free face, semi-pointed lips, huge eyes with red contacts, and lips that were fuller because of the perfect lining.

A three hours make-up did that because there was no way I'd look like that without the touch of a professional makeup artist. The realization made me feel overwhelming tiredness that made me feel intense fatigue wrecking my bone and I instantly turned my chair so my sides would be facing the mirror.

"Astounding, isn't it?"

"It's okay," I replied to him dismissively and from the corners of my eyes, I saw the proud smile on his face vamoose.

"I mean it's not that bad," my mouth spoke and reassured him, "you did a great job making me this pretty with a makeup that's practically not noticeable."

"My make-up didn't make you this pretty, Tamara," he replied with all seriousness, "it only accentuated your already pretty face."

"I'm telling you," his female counterpart joined in as she took her seat on the empty stool beside me and she raised her phone to take a quick snapshot of my face, "what I don't understand is how Tamara always talks as if she can't see what we're seeing when we look at her."

Goke nodded in agreement before he swiftly went on to quote something to buttress their point but I was barely paying attention to them again. What they didn't understand was that the version of Tamara that Gina Wright had completely molded to perfection, to her taste, and the real me had gotten completely lost somewhere along the line.

I couldn't remember what she felt like, what she liked, who she was but sometimes, I catch flickers of her in my eyes whenever I stare at myself too long in the mirror, whenever I do something I was supposed to absolutely detest, whenever I sneak foods I could have sworn I hated into my room to eat in the absence of mom's prying eyes.

"Has mom replied?" my voice interrupted my thoughts and Goke's speech and Jemima tapped her phone's screen to see mom's reply.

"Yeah," she all but screamed her reply, "she wants me to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous and that you should show people the Queen you are today."

My brain started singing LOL and LMAO over and over again but from the corner of my eyes, I saw a flicker of a smile on my lips through the mirror. It wiped off immediately.

"When are we going to start by the way?" I asked, completely ignoring her statement, "why are they delaying me for over an hour?"

"Ohh, Tamara, and being impatience," Goke replied before he opened the window slightly to peep outside, "I'm not sure, they initially said the photographer was running late or something."