back a hello or other generic
greetings. I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in one place, at one time.
What am I doing in this room?
“Everyone, I would like to introduce you to our
newest stage dancer.”
The room hushes dramatically. All eyes fix on me,
and I see different emotions in each pair: awe, disappointment, envy.
Brody takes a deep breath like a ringmaster. He
promised.
“Baby Bird.”
That was close.
Names are pitched in my direction. It will take me
time to remember them.
“Cori, here, our fire dancer…”
History, or something like it, wafts between Brody
and Cori.
“…is a licensed cosmetologist. She’s giving some
stage makeup tips.” Brody backs from the semi circle of girls, leaving me to
fend for myself. “Join in. Have fun. See you tomorrow.” He points a finger at
me and tries a wink, but his eye doesn’t close all the way.
Brita always winked.
“Fab-u…” The door latches before Brody finishes.
I look back at Cori. She would be the one to teach
makeup. She probably buys it in bulk. Her round Atlantic eyes are framed in
black. She has white-blonde, spiky hair cut short, but feminine. It juts in her
face like the petals of an exotic flower. Her long neck is a sentinel above her
carved collarbone, edged by tattooed talon on her right shoulder. She is thin,
but has the toned look of someone who achieved it through hard work.
“Baby Bird, huh?”
I can’t discern who spoke.
“I didn’t see you at the auditions.” There are
three girls sitting closer to each other. Two blondes with forced blank
expressions, and the most beautiful one has long brown hair. It’s smooth and
wavy like a conditioner commercial says hair should be.
“I already knew Brody.”
“She auditioned on silver sheets.” It’s from the
brunette. The pride of lionesses roars.
“I want to get out of here as much as you.” Cori
speaks to them all at once and then hands me a picture of an eye with numbered
steps. I take an offered cluster of pencils, tubes and brushes. In a moment, I
can’t contain how tall I feel. Cori’s smiling nod is my grade. Makeup is both a
new persona and a shield. When I turn to the group, most are already packing
away their makeup.
“Oh, wow, you look good.” An auburn-haired girl
with tiny hands tells me.
“Because she’s had practice…” the words are barely
there, “war paint.”
I know what I heard, but I raise my face to vacant
stares and sweet smiles.
The room empties in moments. There’s muffled
laughter after the door encloses Cori and me in the room. I look in the mirror.
I can see the whites of my eyes begin to shine. If I cry here—I swear, I’ll never
come back.
“You work at a car wash?”
I look down at my Sir Car Wash logo. “I did.”
“I did once, too.” Cori smiles a heavy smile.
I smudge away a little of the eyeliner as I dab at
the moisture, so I use another finger to smooth it out and lean a little closer
to the mirror. “I quit today.”
Cori cleans up the rest of her makeup. She doesn’t
respond, and I wish I hadn’t said anything. There is a sink and I cup my hands
to drink from it. It feels like that drink Brody gave me leeched every drop of
moisture from my mouth. I refill my hands until I’m quenched. When I stand,
there is water on my chin and I look around for a towel. Beside the sink, sits
a water bottle. I know it wasn’t there when I first walked over. Cori has one light
eyebrow raised higher than the other and she holds another water bottle in her
hand. She laughs.
I wipe my chin with the back of my hand. “No,
thanks.” I push the bottle farther away from me. “I don’t drink bottled water.”
“It just comes from the tap anyway.” Cori laughs
again and starts to toss the left behind makeup samples into the trash. “I
never even heard of bottled water until I came here.”
Who hasn’t heard of bottled water? I give a
generic smile and start for the door, but, I do feel
greetings. I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in one place, at one time.
What am I doing in this room?
“Everyone, I would like to introduce you to our
newest stage dancer.”
The room hushes dramatically. All eyes fix on me,
and I see different emotions in each pair: awe, disappointment, envy.
Brody takes a deep breath like a ringmaster. He
promised.
“Baby Bird.”
That was close.
Names are pitched in my direction. It will take me
time to remember them.
“Cori, here, our fire dancer…”
History, or something like it, wafts between Brody
and Cori.
“…is a licensed cosmetologist. She’s giving some
stage makeup tips.” Brody backs from the semi circle of girls, leaving me to
fend for myself. “Join in. Have fun. See you tomorrow.” He points a finger at
me and tries a wink, but his eye doesn’t close all the way.
Brita always winked.
“Fab-u…” The door latches before Brody finishes.
I look back at Cori. She would be the one to teach
makeup. She probably buys it in bulk. Her round Atlantic eyes are framed in
black. She has white-blonde, spiky hair cut short, but feminine. It juts in her
face like the petals of an exotic flower. Her long neck is a sentinel above her
carved collarbone, edged by tattooed talon on her right shoulder. She is thin,
but has the toned look of someone who achieved it through hard work.
“Baby Bird, huh?”
I can’t discern who spoke.
“I didn’t see you at the auditions.” There are
three girls sitting closer to each other. Two blondes with forced blank
expressions, and the most beautiful one has long brown hair. It’s smooth and
wavy like a conditioner commercial says hair should be.
“I already knew Brody.”
“She auditioned on silver sheets.” It’s from the
brunette. The pride of lionesses roars.
“I want to get out of here as much as you.” Cori
speaks to them all at once and then hands me a picture of an eye with numbered
steps. I take an offered cluster of pencils, tubes and brushes. In a moment, I
can’t contain how tall I feel. Cori’s smiling nod is my grade. Makeup is both a
new persona and a shield. When I turn to the group, most are already packing
away their makeup.
“Oh, wow, you look good.” An auburn-haired girl
with tiny hands tells me.
“Because she’s had practice…” the words are barely
there, “war paint.”
I know what I heard, but I raise my face to vacant
stares and sweet smiles.
The room empties in moments. There’s muffled
laughter after the door encloses Cori and me in the room. I look in the mirror.
I can see the whites of my eyes begin to shine. If I cry here—I swear, I’ll never
come back.
“You work at a car wash?”
I look down at my Sir Car Wash logo. “I did.”
“I did once, too.” Cori smiles a heavy smile.
I smudge away a little of the eyeliner as I dab at
the moisture, so I use another finger to smooth it out and lean a little closer
to the mirror. “I quit today.”
Cori cleans up the rest of her makeup. She doesn’t
respond, and I wish I hadn’t said anything. There is a sink and I cup my hands
to drink from it. It feels like that drink Brody gave me leeched every drop of
moisture from my mouth. I refill my hands until I’m quenched. When I stand,
there is water on my chin and I look around for a towel. Beside the sink, sits
a water bottle. I know it wasn’t there when I first walked over. Cori has one light
eyebrow raised higher than the other and she holds another water bottle in her
hand. She laughs.
I wipe my chin with the back of my hand. “No,
thanks.” I push the bottle farther away from me. “I don’t drink bottled water.”
“It just comes from the tap anyway.” Cori laughs
again and starts to toss the left behind makeup samples into the trash. “I
never even heard of bottled water until I came here.”
Who hasn’t heard of bottled water? I give a
generic smile and start for the door, but, I do feel
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