Television Romance

Valentine's Velcro

INT. BULLPEN - NIGHT

A spectator might think that Saturday's live show was the most hectic time of the week for the cast and crew of the show. Or they might wager that it was Tuesday night, the writing night that lasted until late Wednesday morning. The truth was this: never was the show as frantic and corybantic as it was from Friday around 10:00 pm right up until the start of the show. It was the time of endless changes, slashing sketches in half and reworking what was left, costume fitting and refitting and refittings. The writers called it the Seven Years' War because that's what it felt like.

"Juliet, I need you to cut half a minute from the Velcro Shoes commercial," Sam yelled across the bullpen, flipping through a stack of papers on a clipboard. Juliet groaned but signaled with a thumbs up.

"And Vian, will you tell Cheryl that Eli wants red lipstick for 'Flirting Software?'" he yelled too. Vian turned to Juliet, who was standing right next to her.

"Why is he yelling? We're like five feet from him."

"He does that when he's stressed. It's overprojection." It was two o'clock Saturday morning. Go time, in other words.

"Where's Meredith?" Sam shouted.

"I have to go find the techies and get them to carve another thirty seconds from my precious commercial," Juliet sighed, "Do you know where to find Cheryl?"

"Just in the makeup room, right?"

"Yep."

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Vian asked, thus already asking something.

"Sure."

"Should I be worried that my sketches aren't getting picked? I mean, it's been a few weeks and I got nothing in."

"Oh, no," Juliet said, "When I first got here I got a sketch in the first week, and then nothing for like two months. You'll figure it out."

"Thanks."

"Alright, I'll see you if I survive the editing room," Juliet said as if heading into a treacherous battle. Vian waved goodbye and made her way back down the hall, into the elevator, backstage, and to the makeup department.

The makeup department consisted of several rooms, which stored countless wigs, stencils, and literal buckets of different makeup items. But what the cast and crew thought of as "makeup," was just one room. It was built like an extra-long dressing room with a well-lit mirror stretching down one long side. Along that wall was a series of chairs like at a barbershop so multiple cast members could get made up at the same time.

Cheryl was a portly woman, easily recognized by the blue streaks in her dark hair. That, and the fact that she never left makeup. She wore a black apron with countless pockets in it and orthopedic sandals because she never sat down. She called everyone "honey."

"I'm sorry, honey, I don't know why that moron made you pink," Cheryl told Michael who was wincing as she applied hot pink makeup to his already unusually blue eye. Well, she called everyone "honey" except Gary, the costume designer, who she regarded with apparent contempt. Vian gathered that Michael had been selected as the pink crayon in Hugo's breakaway success of a sketch.

"What do you need, honey?" Cheryl asked, having noticed Vian.

"I'm supposed to tell you that Eli wants red lipstick for 'Flirting Software.'"

"Okay, thanks, honey." Cheryl whipped around, causing all the makeup products in her apron to clank and clatter. She grabbed a pen out of one of the pockets and scribbled something on a piece of paper hanging from the wall.