Intimately Enchanted → pjm ✓

Bonus 1

She had felt sick today. Her body was going to give up with exhaustion. It was kind of weird and unexplained because usually she could work more hours than she had today.

She felt scalding. Sweat was brewing on her forehead and the make up artists were getting a little pissed by dusting powder on her face and giving retouches to her makeup again and again.

The first time, her skin had crawled when she inhaled the setting powder being patted on her face, immediately coughed up but didn't give it too much thought. She couldn't stand the smell of the fucking powder, grimacing and judging whatever brand they were using.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth which started going down her throat. But she didn't complain because she had come to shoot after ditching them thrice on her own scenes.

It was the third time that she smelled the disgusting powder that the bitter feeling shot down her stomach and it churned badly. She couldn't hold it now, puking in the basin of the first washroom she could run into.

After she had thrown up, tears threatening at her eyes because of a goddamn powder, she washed up. A scowl on her face as she stomped out. Her dear assistant was standing out, holding a towel in her hand.

Lorraine snatched it away from her, wiping her hands and face before throwing a huge tantrum.

"What kind of a shit-fuck brand are they're using for that fucking setting powder?! It smells like a million rotting fishes marinating in the sun!" She shrieked, real pissed. "Who's the one who chose it?! The person shall be out of the crew right now!"

"You threw up because of a setting powder?"

"Yes!"

And that's what led the whole staff to smell it one by one. Lorraine's anger was steaming out of her ears when everyone said it smelled normal. Nothing disgusting.

"Yeah so I puked because of what?! Thin air?!"

"Babe, we think you're just sick. Maybe the powder just made you cough and everything came out."

"Oh really?"

"Are you not feeling sick?"

At that Lorraine stopped. She felt all hot and clammy and she needed to be under an air conditioner. No she needed her bed, and the air conditioner.

"I'm going home," she muttered lowly and walked away, her assistant following after.

She curled up into a ball in her vanity, gripping her sweaty forehead because it was going to burst any moment now. When she heard her assistant walk in and the door closing behind her, she could feel the tears rimming her eyes.

Why? She didn't know. She didn't know at all.

"I swear it was the powder," she mumbled lowly, her head buried between her legs which were folded up on the seat.

"Hey, we'll change the brand. It's not that of a big deal, Lorraine. Don't cry..."

"I'm not crying because of that!" She argued, tears already slipped down her eyes. "I feel sick. Really sick."

"Shall we go to the doctor?"

"Afterwards," her voice was low, merely above a whisper. She'd rather go to the doctor with Jimin who was not home right now. So she decided to go to home and rest up and wait until he came.

The moment she stepped in, the urge to take a shower took over her so she did so. The cold water did, to some extent, relax her tensed muscles but she couldn't bring herself completely relaxed because she had a suspicion.