Jewel Monster (House Beasts #2)

On With The Show

Eric was not too used to being on the verge of being on television, but he knew his part well. Even as the makeup artist was powdering his cheeks so that he would not shine under the lights, cementing the reality that he was about to become famous, he did not feel nervous. This was for business. This was about money and, for a few people that thought like Lola, a better future for the world.

Did Eric believe that he was doing what was best? Eric did not really know.

There was a time where he had wanted that, where he had dreamed of it. That time seemed so far away now, years away, even. He could not remember when he had decided to do what he was currently doing. Now, all he did was to do the work that was placed in front of him, again and again, like a machine. But he could feel results. He loved it, it pleased him a lot. When he looked at his fifty employees, and at the money in the bank - both his and the one of his company - he felt very pleased, and for a second he could forget what he wanted to forget.

Dimor seemed just as calm as Eric was, even if he had just escaped his own makeup artist. She was chasing after him as he walked over to the corner where they kept Eric, and he was ignoring her. She could see where he was due to the glasses on her nose, which allowed her to see what she was doing. She probably had not imagined, when she had first put them on, that she would be using those same glasses to pursue her charge.

Mustard, that had come along to help his master, pulled a chair and allowed him to sit. Several of the people around Eric, that had no glasses of their own, turned around to look at what seemed to be an empty chair before realising that it was not empty.

"And there I was, thinking that we'd just go on stage, answer the questions, and just leave," Dimor complained to Eric.

"Sir, I am not done with anything," his makeup artist said.

"Well, do it here," Dimor said. "I want to talk to Eric. Why were we separated in the first place?"

"You are entering at different times," she said.

"Mustard, go help the woman get her things."

Mustard nodded and started to walk. The artist herself seemed completely taken out of left field, surprised and frustrated, but she seemed to resign herself and went with the smaller fairy.

"You are being a bully, Dimor," Eric said.

"A bully? I was not warned of any of this." Dimor huffed.

"You took just as much time preparing for your ball, didn't you? And you were only going to be seen by the friends of your family. That's national television."

"National television. Pah. It means nothing to me. I know you said it's a lot, but humans..."

"Dimor, please. It's important."

"I'm doing all this for you."

"Thank you."

Eric tried to look at Dimor, to make the thank you sound a little more sincere, but the makeup artist stopped him from turning his head as she was applying the finishing touches.

"Am I ready?" Eric asked when she drew back.

"We need to get you mic-ed," she replied. "Wait for a second, I'll tell the technician that you're good to go. I'll be right back."

She left. Eric looked around, for his head of management that was supposed to give him a briefing before he got on stage when he felt a hand on his. He looked up and found that it was Dimor that had reached out to hold it.