COCO'S

01

Cloe Marín

"You're talking about him like he's the biggest douchebag in the world." I groan, shaking my head even though they can't see me.

One of my best friends, Harris, laughs loudly through the speakers, their laughter echoing the inside of my car, "I'm joking, I swear. He's a lovely person if you get on his good side at first. Like me, I know he adores me."

"Why are you telling me all of this, anyway? It's not like I'm only doing his makeup today." I chuckle, turning the steering wheel around with my right hand, my left arm resting on the black windowsill.

I'm currently driving through Rome's city center, following my GPS directions as I talk with my dear Harris Reed on the Bluetooth speakers, loud chatter and noise on the outside deconcentrating me at some points.

Harris is actually in Rome right now, and I'm coming to the place where they are supposed to be.

A closed gallery near Rome's Capitoline Museum, where a Gucci yearly fashion show is being held tonight.

The clock marks 13:05. I'm five fucking minutes late. What I hate the most in this world is being late. My fingers tap the wheel anxiously as my eyes scan for the next direction to follow.

The closer I get, the bigger is my stomach ache.

Fucking anxiety, it sucks.

I'm always the same, I know that in twenty years from now, I will still get the same pain in the stomach whenever I'm going to work on something bigger than usual.

Like today, I'm doing the makeup of about forty celebrities that are so busy that they aren't actually staying in a hotel where their own makeup artist can do the work. Instead, I have to be standing for eight hours straight, doing a bunch of incredibly professional and impressively good makeups in a matter of twenty minutes per person.

I mean, that's my work. I chose it and I love it.

Do I not sound excited?

It's probably because I'm shitting my pants right at this moment.

The worst part of it all is the fact that I have done this before. I had been in jobs with a lot of celebrities, I had done amazing makeups in a very short gap of time, today is like one more day.

Usually, once or twice a month, I have this type of work.

Not to flatter me, but I'm really good at my job. That's why I have done more works like this than I can count. You have to be very experienced to get to work with this type of person. Even though it's only their makeup, I feel kinda honored.

The gallery is closed just for this, for them. I have been told that I'm going to be all alone, the only people there are going to be the celebrities and their managers as I work on them, and also another person who is organizing the thing so I don't have to focus on who is next or whatever.

These one-time jobs are really well-paid. The rest of the days where I don't have this type of work, I do makeup in a hairdresser in my city. Livorno.

"Cloe?" Harris' voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I realize that I wasn't paying attention to the GPS.

I check it with widened eyes but it all seems fine, so I just have to keep driving all straight and then I will have to take a sharp left.

"Sorry, I zoned out, what did you say?" I apologize.

"Don't worry. I said that I know you aren't doing only his makeup- oh my God, you're doing Saoirse Ronan's! Holy fucking shit, I just remembered to tell you!" They suddenly exclaim.