The Make-Up Artist

Chapter Thirty Three: Goodbye

"What?" You hear Taron repeat as he practically rips the letter out of your hand. You slowly sink down to the couch behind you, still in a daze but vaguely aware that Taron is reading the letter out loud. He mumbles some of it, other parts he reads clearly, but it all sounds as if his voice is coming from inside a cave, very far away. Even though you know exactly what the letter says at this point, you listen anyway, hoping that maybe you misunderstood something and that hearing it out loud will somehow sound different.

"We regret to inform you that after careful consideration and based on your doctor's recommendation, we have made the difficult decision to terminate your employment effective immediately. We understand that your injury was through no fault of your own, however, the safety and protection of our staff and crew must be our number one priority. We cannot in good conscience keep you on staff which could possibly endanger you further. We appreciate the outstanding work you have done, and will of course compensate you accordingly for the remaining time left of filming. We are also happy to absorb the cost of any medical bills that you may incur due to this injury. We are sorry for any inconvenience that this may cause you, but for liability reasons we feel this is the best course of action. We wish you the best in your future endeavors and will be happy to provide positive references for any future job opportunities."

He mumbles the valediction at the end of the letter and you look up at him to find him scanning the letter a second time, much like you did. Even with him reading it out loud, it still sounds the same as it did in your head. You've been fired, or "terminated" as the letter so eloquently stated. You can't even begin to comprehend what in the world is happening right now so you just bury your head in your hands, your elbows propped up on your knees.

"I don't understand," you finally hear Taron say. "Why would they do this? It doesn't make sense..." You look back up at him to find him staring at you like you will somehow have the answer. Suddenly, a searing pain goes through your chest and you can't hold back the audible gasp that escapes from your mouth. Clutching your chest with your hand, you stand abruptly, feeling the need to escape.

"I need some air", you choke out as you bolt toward the door with Taron close on your heels. Wrenching open the door, you only make it to the porch before you have to stop and steady yourself by placing your palms against your thighs, your head hanging low. You feel Taron's hand against your back immediately.

"Are you ok?" He asks as he rubs slow circles against your back. You take in a couple of deep breaths, letting them out slowly, then rise up slowly to face him.

"No, I'm not fucking ok. I just got fired and I have no idea why! I was doing fine before we left! I don't understand. Could Olivia had said something?" You are desperately trying to make sense of this whole thing, searching Taron's eyes as if he will know what to do. He's staring back at you wide-eyed the whole time, but he says nothing. He has the strangest look on his face though. It's like panic mixed with sadness and fear.

"I don't know what they were thinking," he finally blurts out. "I just thought they would move you somewhere else on set so that you could finish...", he stops suddenly, realizing what he's apparently just said. You take a step back from him and pause, trying to comprehend his words.

"Wait...what?" You ask, seriously confused by what he just said. He swallows hard then looks at you with a look of what? Guilt? You slowly begin to put the pieces together, dread filling your mind. "Taron", you say apprehensively. "How did they know what the doctor said?" You ask, but he says nothing. "Taron, tell me you didn't have anything to do with this?" At first your voice is firm, maybe even a bit accusatory. But then, something else washes over you, a desperation to confirm that he couldn't have had had anything to do with this. You walk back toward him, grabbing at his shirt collar. "Please, tell me you didn't have something to do with this...please", you whisper, pleading up into his terrified eyes.