Feels | Ava and Kyan

four

"So, you guys just went out for drinks?" I asked, my face resting in his hands as I felt the soft brush gliding gently across my cheek, leaving a delicate rosy glow. A quick glance in one of the many mirrors showed me the result. Mason turned red, and I giggled, breaking free from his grip to look at him.

But as soon as I composed myself, I burst into laughter again when I saw his face. "It's not funny," he replied between soft laughs as he once again cupped my face with one hand, focusing on finishing my makeup for the next shoot in about twenty minutes. I was already dressed, the set was prepared, and the only thing left was a few final makeup touches.

Mason was my friend and makeup artist, and I loved it when he worked on my face. Although others usually created the same look on me, he always managed to make the most of it. Sometimes I wished I could do this every day.

"You know exactly what you're doing," he warned with a mischievous smile. I shrugged and pressed my lips together to avoid laughing again. "I'm just curious, you know, the others don't tell me much," I sighed.

And it was true, because we were all so busy that we barely had time to meet, and when we did, we didn't want to just talk about guys. Sometimes I was damn surprised to find out what was going on with them. "So you live off the information I give you?"

He pitied me, playfully, and I smiled. "Yep." My hand rested on my lap, and I could feel my phone vibrating. Part of me hoped it was Kyan. He hadn't been in touch since then, and I was afraid it was just a one-time thing. Even though that's what I initially wanted, I now wished the opposite.

I felt embarrassed, ashamed of how quickly I had changed my mind, even though I shouldn't have gone, let alone agreed to that stupid deal. But I couldn't help it. I was drunk; that was my excuse, but part of me was also curious. God, I felt miserable."Holy shit, you're going to look so great," he said, letting go and allowing me to look in the mirror.

And indeed, I looked good. It was strange, my entire career. I sometimes danced and modeled, but I never thought I would do this. Especially the dancing. My mother hated that I did it because my back was really in bad shape, and dancing took a toll on it, but I insisted and made it happen. Soft brown shadows highlighted my eyes, a matte, slightly reddish lipstick, and overall, the makeup perfectly complemented my features.

With a grin, I looked up at him, raised my hand for a high five, "Damn good," I exclaimed, clapping our hands together before I sat up, looked at my entire reflection, and let out a soft sigh. "I know the photos are going to look incredible," he noted, and I looked at him admiringly.

At the moment, I was modeling only for a well-known shopping brand, but I had also done a shoot for a facial cream that went really well. "All thanks to you," I said, and after a brief hug, Mason left the room, smiling at his phone. Normally, we would have had about 15 more minutes, but I was ready, and so was he. And he had really done a job I could never have done so perfectly myself. So I sank back into the chair, the warm light of the mirror mixed with the cooler lights around me felt somehow cozy, and then I took out my phone.