This chapter is dedicated to VeraMicic ! You've been so encouraging and helpful these past few weeks, and now I can't imagine Wattpad without you! Thank you! And...quien es tu Madre?! Haha. (Inside joke)

Misery Loves Company

By: theinkslingerr

Track 8: #BlueVendettaDoesMyMakeUp (Part I)

You know that weird, fluttering sensation you get in the pit of your stomach during the first drop of a rollercoaster?

Well, I was experiencing it right now- in the middle of Enid's bedroom. "Date? Did you just say date?!"

"Pictures will be up on Everything Enid dot com! You guys have until this Sunday 10PM Eastern Standard Time to vote for your favorite look! And don't forget to tune in next Friday to see who won and how the date went!"

"Enid!"

She promptly ignored me. "So who's up first?"

Rocco stepped forward. "Hand it over," he said.

Enid giggled and handed him a big black bag overflowing with make-up and beauty tools that would look more at home in a medieval dungeon.

Rocco glanced down at the bag confidently. If he or Eli won...I maybe wouldn't die on this date. Maybe. It would still be super awkward because I was super awkward, but at least I was somewhat comfortable around them. No, scratch that- I was somewhat comfortable around Eli. Rocco was a different story.

He suddenly looked up and threw me a lop-sided grin like he just knew I was thinking about tongues and merry-go-rounds and chocolate ice cream.

I glared back, because the jerk was right. "You ready?" he said.

"W-wait," I stammered, a halting palm on his chest as he came at me with a particularly shiny eyelash curler. "Do you even know what to do with that thing?"

I barely knew what to do with that thing.

Rocco smiled, "Don't you worry."

In hindsight, I should have worried, because the next thing I knew Rocco was trying to cram my lips in-between the eyelash curler!!!

"Ow! Mmmph! Oww! Stop! What're you doing, Rocco?!" I screamed, pushing him and the menacing utensil away. Enid burst into laughter so uncontrollable, she had to go and sit on the bed. Eli and Dominic were leaning against each other to keep themselves from collapsing in hysterics. Even serious Jae, the director, and all the crew members were chuckling. Ackerman and Tom Morgan looked quite pleased in their corner of the room, knowing all of this would boost the ratings.

But Rocco...Rocco was blushing! He just stood there staring at the eyelash curler like it had betrayed him. "I thought girls used this to...to..."

"To what, Rocco? It's for curling eyelashes," Enid cackled.

Rocco's confidence bled away, replaced by an uncertainty that looked so foreign on his face, I couldn't help but crack a smile.

For once I could tease him.

"And the Academy Award for 'I don't know what I'm doing, but let's pretend I do' goes to...Rocco Alden! Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech!" I exclaimed, pumping one fist in the air.

"Swear to God I saw this chick put her lips in one!"

"Language, Mr. Alden! This is a family program!" Dominic hollered.

Eli was practically crying, "The vulgarity!"

The whole room roared with laughter, and it didn't take long for Rocco to join in.

Things might...actually turn out OK.

Unless Dominic won.

The thought hit me like a ton of bricks, causing the laughter to die in my throat. There was no way Dominic would win! He couldn't! Sure, he was just as gorgeous as his band mates, but he was obviously the least put-together. Dominic's long blond hair looked like it hadn't seen water in days, his jeans were ripped, and the green flannel he wore screamed "I'm in a rock band!" He wouldn't know what to do with an eyelash curler either!

I swallowed hard as I watched him make fun of Rocco.

Dominic...scared me a little. He was brash, unpredictable, and seemed to fluctuate between not liking me and liking me a little too much. A date with him would be horrible. Disastrous! Cold and surly Jae wasn't appealing either, but at least he seemed sensible.

Suddenly the object of my observations caught me watching him. He stopped teasing Rocco and raised both blond eyebrows as if to say "What're you looking at?"

I turned away, heart beating quickly.

"OK," Rocco said, holding up a brush that looked like a giant fan. "Let's do this."

I stared into the camera and squeaked, "Help me."

~~~

If you've never seen or heard of the Boyfriend Does My Make-up tag, you've been living under a rock like a certain pink starfish.

It was a trend that started on Youtube a few years ago where popular make-up artists and other Youtube celebs bullied their hot boyfriends into caking make-up on their faces while they recorded it. Hilarity usually ensued, and the internet loved it. The end result was always hundreds, thousands, millions of views, and something every Youtuber constantly craved: new subscribers.

The beauty of the tag was no one expected these boys to know what they were doing. People simply watched to see how attractive they were as they flirted, laughed, and destroyed their girlfriends' faces.

The videos ranged anywhere from funny and sweet to downright awkward.

If I had to choose where me and Rocco fell, I'd say we were somewhere between wildly hilarious and a medical emergency.

To be fair though, some of the make-up came in confusing containers with words like "color lasting tint" and "gleam body radiance" printed on the sides. I think that's why Rocco ended up using gold eyeliner on my lips. It was in a tube like lip gloss, even had little bristles on the end- like lip gloss, therefore it had to be lip gloss!

Of course, that got in my mouth and up my nose. I coughed violently until Enid gave me something to drink.

Up next was the purple lipstick in the little jar Rocco thought was eyeshadow. When it got in my eye, I had to run into the bathroom, pop out my contact, and flush it out with  water. That interrupted shooting for a whole fifteen minutes.

When I settled back in my chair, Rocco apologized and told me if I went blind he'd learn braille and teach me.

I wondered how he would do that while touring.

"Gee, thanks," I said dryly, smiling through my blurry, irritated vision.

I was well on my way to forgiving him until he twisted open a new tube of lipstick.

"Rocco, no," I pleaded. "That is neon green!"

He looked at the tube with furrowed brows before looking back at me. "This would look so cool."

All I could do was sigh and let it be.

When Rocco wasn't injuring me, he was actually pretty gentle. His rough fingers brushed against my eyelids, cheeks, and lips while his eyes held mine. At the moment he was using a big, soft brush to dust powder that was the wrong shade across my face. His eyes were focused, close enough for me to admire the brown rings around pupils that faded into the most brilliant green I'd ever seen. I averted my gaze and noticed the tiny beauty mark on his left ear.

Apparently, there was no where safe to look, so I just zoned out.

Rocco dipped the brush in the loose powder again and brought it up to my face, but instead of clinging to the bristles a bit of the powder fell and sprinkled the top of my collarbone. Without even thinking about it, Rocco swept his thumb over my collarbone, wiping away the mess. I jerked at the feel of his calloused thumb, goosebumps breaking out along my skin.

"Not bad," he said softly, putting down the brush. He took my chin in a soft grip and moved my head from side to side, appreciating his work. My entire face caught fire, and I wondered if he could feel the heat through the tips of his fingers.

Enid crept closer with a hand held mirror, face positively red, lips thin, and eyes wide. She handed me the mirror and I could hardly breathe. The room was heavy with silence. Did I...look OK? Had Rocco pulled through? I looked in the mirror and...

...saw a clown staring back at me.

The entire room exploded! It seriously sounded like a bomb went off! The director was slumped down in his chair, both hands covering his face, shoulders shaking. The guys holding the lights and cue cards were turning red, their laughter making it hard to keep their arms steady. This time Ackerman and Tom were crying, dollar signs and Blackberries all but forgotten.

Enid, Dominic, Eli, and Jae were inconsolable, shrieking while pools of tears ran down their cheeks. Rocco just took all of this in and burst out laughing too!

I stared at the mirror in horror.

There was purple and neon green lipstick smeared all over my eyelids! I looked like a panda going to a rave! My foundation was patchy, not to mention six shades lighter than my skin, and glittery gold eye shadow covered my lips and cheeks. I glared at Rocco, "I look like Harley Quinn's special needs cousin!"

"Oh, that was you behind her in Suicide Squad?!" Dominic shouted, causing everyone to laugh harder.

OK, fine, that was funny, but still!

Rocco shrugged off his offensive make-up skills and threw me a lop-sided grin. "I had only the best intentions. Sorry I suck."

I glared harder and refused to smile for the picture of me and him Enid would be posting on the website later.

"Nice job!" Enid giggled. The cue cards had no words for this. Plus the guy holding them was still cracking up. "Now we know if you ever quit guitar you'd have a promising career as a make-up artist."

"Don't tempt me," Rocco joked back.

Enid smiled and attacked my face with make-up wipes. "OK, Eli," she said. "Why don't you see if you can top that?"

The hesitant smile on Eli's face did little to reassure me. It would be a close call.

I ended up graduating from Harley Quinn's cousin with special needs to Harley Quinn's ugly step-sister. And that was only because Eli worked with better colors. His large hands were steady when they touched my face, and he paused frequently to look at what he'd already applied before choosing something else. Eli was quiet, slow, and methodical.

Too bad he still sucked.

Enid laughed as she brought over "the Mirror of Truth," and the only thing I could do was brace myself for what I was about to see.

Bright red lipstick. I had on bright red lipstick.

"Totally your color!" Enid had once said, and it was obvious that Eli thought the same, because he had applied so many coats it looked like a tomato punched me in the mouth. A highly pigmented red and gold eyeshadow covered each lid all the way to my eyebrows, and poor boy- bless his heart, attempted a cat-eye!

I sighed, examining the look from different angles. "Um...at least we didn't need a first-aid kit this time?"

"Hey!" Rocco protested, chuckling. "How was I supposed to know that glue was for fake eyelashes?"

"Who sent you?" I paused so Enid could snap a picture of me and Eli. "Who sent you to kill me?"

"I can't reveal the name of my employer," Rocco said, not missing a beat. He pulled that insufferable bag of sour patch kids out of his back pocket, grinning the whole time.

"They're both horrible and will go down in history as such," Enid said solemnly.

Eli, who hadn't really said much during this exchange, laughed and grabbed the make-up wipes off a nearby folding table. When he started scrubbing at my cheek, I almost shot out of my chair! I stared at him, taken aback.

Enid got a strange look on her face that quickly melted into amusement. "You don't have to do that, you know! That's my job!"

Eli shrugged, gently wiping away my lipstick. "I don't mind," he replied. "Besides...evidence of the pain I've caused must be destroyed quickly. How do girls do this every day?"

"Some of us don't," I mumbled.

"You don't need it," Eli said before tossing the used wipe.

I ducked my head in embarrassment, not thinking I'd said it loud enough to be heard. Receiving compliments was always weird for me: I never wanted to say thank you and risk sounding conceited, but staying silent seemed to make things even more awkward. As I was wracking my brain for something to say, Enid, who could barely leave the house without a full face, chirped, "Well, make-up has never really been Misery's thing anyway."

That was true. I only wore eyeliner or lipstick on special occasions, but I knew that wasn't what Enid meant, so I kept my mouth shut. A girl knew a veiled insult when she heard one.

"That's cool. Too much make-up is unattractive," Eli said simply, ripping one sheet from a roll of paper towels and drying his hands.

Enid blinked her heavily mascaraed lashes, pursed her dark blue lips, and pretended to check something on her phone. She started twirling a strand of hair around one finger and refused to look up.

Rocco smirked before straddling a metal folding chair. He popped some sour patch kids in his mouth and watched Eli and Enid like they were a juicy TV show.

Maybe they were, because the cameras hadn't stopped rolling.

I'd heard a lot of guys say they weren't into girls that wore a lot of make-up. That they preferred natural beauty.

What they failed to realize was that many of the girls they thought possessed this "natural beauty" were the girls that spent hours perfecting the "no make-up look" or dropped a ton of money on skincare.

So, it almost seemed like when a guy said they preferred no make-up or minimal make-up, they meant they liked the results (flawless skin, long eye-lashes, and soft lips) without the actual make-up.

It was the equivalent of a girl saying she wanted her man to be buff without having to work out.

Like all women, the honest truth was I wasn't perfect. There were bags under my eyes I wanted gone, blackheads, and pores that I wished were invisible. I didn't think it was fair for my laziness when it came to make-up to spell out shame for the girls who loved it.

"Actually," I mumbled. "I wouldn't mind getting a little better at it."

"Why's that?" Rocco asked from his chair.

I glared at the little instigator before saying, "Because I..." my voice was shaking. "Because I liked to draw when I was a kid. Paint too. I probably sucked, but it was fun and it made me...happy. Girls are always hearing about what they're not allowed to do, so to grow up and have society tell us it's OK to draw on our faces if we want to is pretty darn awesome."

When I finished talking, Enid was looking at me with something akin to wonder. Astonishment. Bewilderment. I guess she hadn't expected me to "stick up" for her after what she'd said, but this wasn't really for her. This was for me. It was for girls too afraid to like themselves. It was for girls that looked in the mirror, saw a pretty picture and decided to add color. It was for the girls who were simply content, choosing to find perfection in their flaws.

It seemed small, but that choice to do or don't was important, and every girl should have it without being pressured to choose either side.

I wanted to say all of these things, but my five minutes of bravery was up and my throat closed up once again.

Rocco stared at me while he chewed, quiet and thoughtful, those hazel eyes bright. Then he smiled and said, "Having choices is important."

Eli was staring at me too. "I've never thought about it like that before," he murmured. "I respect that."

I let out a breath and stared at my ugly hands, praying this footage never aired.

"Um...OK," Enid said, clearing her throat. "Let's keep rolling guys. Who's next?"

"That would be me," Dominic answered, stepping right in front of me.

My head snapped up to meet his sharp green eyes.

He grinned, and I couldn't help but notice that he had a lot of teeth.

Like a shark.

~~~

Author's notes: Give the song attached a listen! ("Out and Alone" by the Burning Hotels) You won't be sorry- it's catchy! ;-)

I wanted this chapter to be funny, but there was also a serious underlying topic of how people tend to pressure women into looking how they want them to look. Whether it's telling a woman she needs to wear more make-up or making her feel guilty for wearing "too much," this chapter is also dedicated to women who do whatever they want despite what the people around them say, and for women who lift other women up instead of tearing them down.

Keep thinking for yourself and making your own choices.

Also...hit that little star on the bottom left for me. ;)