Make Up

1

Megan

I've been staring at the mirror for a couple of minutes now. I guess it was a ritual, something I do before I hit the runway. The cakey make up on my face felt heavy, I was always afraid that the fake eyelashes I have would suddenly fall out, but I trust my make up artists. They're no fool if Marco Martens hired them.

I looked around me and saw naked women, it was normal since this was a runway show. Everyone was agitated, anxious, excited you could almost taste it in the atmosphere. My eyes spotted a certain black haired woman, tall about 6 foot. Hands were all over her, a hat with feathers was being installed in her black soft hair. She wore this checkered pantsuit and a cute black blouse that has a slit above her chest and below it.

"Keep staring and she'll notice you" A whisper behind my back jolted me from my seat. Was I that obvious?

"I was just admiring the pantsuit" It was a good thing the lights back here were a little dim that my friend wouldn't notice my blemished cheeks.

"Yeah I believe you" A red head appeared by my side. She was partially naked except for a pair of silicon covering her areolas, and a nude colored underwear.

"She's just...." I couldn't finish my sentence. It wasn't because I didn't want to, it was because I didn't have a word to describe her.

Ynna Volstak. A Russian model who started her career in Belstar Agency the year I became one too. Aloof was another word people describe her. She was simply indifferent. The woman barely talks nor associate herself with the people around her, even make up artists have a hard time talking to her because she simply wouldn't talk to them that much.

Men tried to charm her, because people would be blind not to see her beauty, it was almost ethereal, out of this world. No one succeeded as expected.

No matter how her colleagues despise her aloofness, she was the star on every runway show. One would notice how graceful and regal she walks on that stage, as if she was born to. Her posture changes, her attitude even changes like she wants people to gawk at her and they do. All famous designers wants her to wear their clothes.

"Weird? Arrogant? Name it" Her red head friend, Mica sat beside her. A moment later a make up artist started placing foundation and contour on her face.

"No, do you hate her that much?" I grabbed a small hat on the table and tried to place it in my hair, it was difficult since the make up artists sprayed hair spray all over it, they consumed almost 3 bottles to tame my unruly brown locks.

"Yes, don't you?" She asked me, I simply shrugged my shoulders

I developed this fixation towards her. Would I call it attraction? Probably. It was 4 years ago when I started noticing her quite often, seeing her in a room first, anticipating her arrival at practices, mesmerized with her runway walk. Mica told me it was because I was jealous of her, I laughed when she said that because jealousy was never a word I would use towards her. She was everything yes, but I wouldn't hate her for that, instead I admire her.

But everyone else does hate her and I don't know why

"20 minutes ladies!" Patrick our manager announced at the door. Everyone rushed after this, placing final touches in their outfit, or checking themselves in the vanity mirror. I wore this black and white pantsuit and nothing inside. Marco Martens was a big time fashion designer who's known for his gorgeous pantsuit of all kinds.

"Amy said she turned down Herald, the poor guy cried his balls out" Mica was now wearing a black pantsuit but it had shiny outlines all over it as if a glossy tape was plastered on it.

"They never learn" The men in our agency wants to own her, claim her for their own because she was simply down to earth gorgeous

But she was her own person

"10 minutes ladies!" Patrick announced for the second time. Now everyone was lining up according to our position. I was placed second to the last. I was busy counting to ten to control my breathing and nerves, a habit I do before we hit the stage. Every nerve in my body was trembling, modelling was never easy, you had a diet to maintain, a schedule to follow, heck walking on a platform with eyes peering at your body was never easy especially when these people are important ones to the fashion world but it was always my dream to be one.

"Excuse me I think your hat fell" A husky yet firm voice spoke on my back. Everything in me froze, the voice had this thick accent and there's only one person I know who has that

I turned around only to be met by a pair of striking gray eyes, or was it green? No one really knew Ynna Volstak's eye color. Some other times they look gray, sometimes they look green it was remarkable really. A mystery that can only be solved by an unwavering soul. A perfect arc of brow rose as I stood there speechless and frozen. It was the first time she talked to me. I know her voice because I eavesdrop when she talks to Patrick, curious of her voice.

"I....uhm... Thanks" I grabbed the hat she was holding, trying to compose myself as I turned around, I was nervous enough for this show my heart couldn't handle anymore pressure so I faced the stage as models disappear behind the dark velvet curtain, the line ascended as they did. This was it, behind the curtain was a world where people dissect every bit of clothing you have, media would devour your form with a push from their cameras, it would be a dream where everyone else was gawking at you on top of that platform.

The walk wouldn't last a minute considering the length of the stage but it was my dream nonetheless.

Finally it was my turn to walk, I was just waiting for my cue from the stage manager beside me.

"Okay go" She pushed at me lightly and I was shoved behind the curtain. The lights almost blinded me, flashes from several camera woke me from my stupor as my body worked in autopilot. I absorbed the rhythm of the music and walked through every beat, walked as gracefully as I can. I finally reached the peak and executed my pose. I turned around and started walking to the backstage to change my attire, but when Ynna appeared on the stage it was as if everything slowed down. I could almost hear gasps from people as all eyes and cameras focused on her. It was protocol that we should focus upfront but Ynna was just to much to ignore. My eyes were lost as she took strides that emphasized her curves.

She was almost beside me when I saw it, a flicker of a second but I saw as her orbs turned and gave me a glance, I thought I died there, but what made the frogs in my stomach jump in excitement was when those eyes winked at me.

My heart sped up as it happened, it was wild inside my chest that it reached towards my stomach.

Did she just notice me?

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Hey there I just had to write this story that's been bugging me for a month now