Elliot ditched his jock reputation after high school. He happily traded his cleats and shoulder pads for college cafeteria food and seminars notes. Now, without the distraction of football, he has managed to find success at the University of Minneso...
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"LOU," Pierce called up the stairs. His voiced carried, echoing across the high ceiling. The house was big - it had to be. They had four kids. "Last chance. Your dad is almost done with Bell's makeup. Are you coming trick-or-treating or not?"
Most of Elliot's time revolved around makeup -filming eyeshadow reviews, launching new products, or painting his kid's face for a Hulk costume. Makeup was his life. He owned one of the most well-known brands in the beauty industry. His name was on everything from powder to mascara. He had gotten his wish - he was everywhere all at once. Like the color blue.
Pierce supported him throughout the entire journey, usually managing the behind-the-scenes aspects of the job. Professionally, he was Elliot's publicist - the shine to his star. He had other clients too, like Ronan Price.
Loud stomps came crashing down the stairs. It was Pierce and Elliot's eldest daughter - Lou. On the surface, she was charismatic like Elliot. Sassy on certain days, bold always, and a little too independent. A neon pink streak in her hair for a healthy dose of rebellion. But, when she spoke softly, when she protected her siblings, when she solved an argument between friends - that was Pierce on the inside.
"What the hell is that?" Pierce asked.
"My costume," Lou replied, halting behind the banister. Fishnets, a black leotard, and whiskers drawn on her cheeks with eyeliner. The combination was not dad-approved.
Halloween was a favorite holiday in the Thompson-Norfolk household. Elliot enjoyed seeing the kids dress up and be creative. Pierce liked eating chocolate - and being the dad who carried the heavy bag of candy when they got too tired. Not seeing his daughter dressed like that.
Pierce gestured to her legs. "That's floss. At best."
His daughter rolled her eyes. "Dad. I'm a cat." She spun around, showing him her tail. "See?"
"Yeah. A cat who just came out of a shredder." He tried to remain composed. "What about your red striped shirt? You could be Where's Waldo again."
