Status: Hiatus
As God Has Made Us.
Chapter 7 - Gerard
AN: Okay when Gerard reads someone’s mind it’s shown like this: ~ ~ words ~ ~
Okay?
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“Gerard! Get your sorry ass over here!” the loud screech filled the room and echoed in everyone’s heads.
“Yes, Jessica?” I reply trying to stay calm.
“What the hell is this supposed to be? Is this a wig or a mop?”
“Well, if you would look it would be considered a wig. It was not used to clean a floor nor is it on the end of a stick so…”
“If you don’t shut it with those smart-ass remarks that non-existent stick is gonna be up your ass, you gay excuse for a hair and makeup artist!”
Ouch. That hurt.
“Low blow, Jess. Low blow.”
Why do I work here? Oh yeah, Broadway pays better than some beauty parlor off the street.
“I don’t care. How do you expect me to play Potiphar’s wife if I can’t keep the wig from falling off my head every 5 seconds?”
She’s not normally this bad… Maybe I could just peek into her mind for a second and…
~ ~What is with that man? How could he? We were together for two years!How could he break it off with me? And on Valentine’s Day? ~ ~
Okay that’s enough. Why the human mind thinks in question form is beyond me.
“Hey Jess, is everything okay with your boyfriend?”
“I…um…no…not really. He broke up with me the other day. How’d you know?”
“Um…lucky guess? Do you want to talk about it?”
++ FAST FORWARD ++
“Thanks, Gerard. I feel better now.”
“No problem”
Okay everything’s all better now no bitchy people running around screaming. It feels good to help people but I can’t help but feel like a…a shrink. Like Dr. Phil.
Ew. No. Never mind. That’s just freaky. Stop...
…..
…...
…….all better. Back to reality, I look at the clock to see it’s time to help with the make-up work for the show I’m currently working with, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. I am so glad they let me work on the girls for this show. I tried doing the make-up for the guys, but you have to make them look Egyptian/Middle Eastern. Every time I try they end up looking really feminine. But the women’s make-up isn’t easy either.
There is one girl who, for some strange reason, can’t sit still while I’m doing her eye- makeup. This results in what would normally be an easy job, simply extending the line of eyeliner past the eyelid to create a more Egyptian look, hell. She never stops moving so it will be very noticeably disproportioned.
The best part is that once I finally get it looking presentable; I will still see that tiny bit of disproportion. No one else will, only me. And it will continue to annoy me because I have no distractions in life. That is why I normally let one of the other make-up artists work on her.
However today I wasn’t able to avoid her. And when I finally finished with her I was in my own little OCD hell.
That is why I was so surprised by a text from none other then Frank.
+*+*+*+
Hey Gerard. I got bored. lol what’s up? =]
+*+*+*+
Hello, Distraction; perfect timing. I quickly send a reply text back to him, without bothering for capitals or anything, and close my phone after the “Message Sent” sign pops up.
+#+#+#+#
hi frank. i’m just finishing up @ work. sup w/ u?
+#+#+#+#
Okay?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Gerard! Get your sorry ass over here!” the loud screech filled the room and echoed in everyone’s heads.
“Yes, Jessica?” I reply trying to stay calm.
“What the hell is this supposed to be? Is this a wig or a mop?”
“Well, if you would look it would be considered a wig. It was not used to clean a floor nor is it on the end of a stick so…”
“If you don’t shut it with those smart-ass remarks that non-existent stick is gonna be up your ass, you gay excuse for a hair and makeup artist!”
Ouch. That hurt.
“Low blow, Jess. Low blow.”
Why do I work here? Oh yeah, Broadway pays better than some beauty parlor off the street.
“I don’t care. How do you expect me to play Potiphar’s wife if I can’t keep the wig from falling off my head every 5 seconds?”
She’s not normally this bad… Maybe I could just peek into her mind for a second and…
~ ~What is with that man? How could he? We were together for two years!How could he break it off with me? And on Valentine’s Day? ~ ~
Okay that’s enough. Why the human mind thinks in question form is beyond me.
“Hey Jess, is everything okay with your boyfriend?”
“I…um…no…not really. He broke up with me the other day. How’d you know?”
“Um…lucky guess? Do you want to talk about it?”
++ FAST FORWARD ++
“Thanks, Gerard. I feel better now.”
“No problem”
Okay everything’s all better now no bitchy people running around screaming. It feels good to help people but I can’t help but feel like a…a shrink. Like Dr. Phil.
Ew. No. Never mind. That’s just freaky. Stop...
…..
…...
…….all better. Back to reality, I look at the clock to see it’s time to help with the make-up work for the show I’m currently working with, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. I am so glad they let me work on the girls for this show. I tried doing the make-up for the guys, but you have to make them look Egyptian/Middle Eastern. Every time I try they end up looking really feminine. But the women’s make-up isn’t easy either.
There is one girl who, for some strange reason, can’t sit still while I’m doing her eye- makeup. This results in what would normally be an easy job, simply extending the line of eyeliner past the eyelid to create a more Egyptian look, hell. She never stops moving so it will be very noticeably disproportioned.
The best part is that once I finally get it looking presentable; I will still see that tiny bit of disproportion. No one else will, only me. And it will continue to annoy me because I have no distractions in life. That is why I normally let one of the other make-up artists work on her.
However today I wasn’t able to avoid her. And when I finally finished with her I was in my own little OCD hell.
That is why I was so surprised by a text from none other then Frank.
+*+*+*+
Hey Gerard. I got bored. lol what’s up? =]
+*+*+*+
Hello, Distraction; perfect timing. I quickly send a reply text back to him, without bothering for capitals or anything, and close my phone after the “Message Sent” sign pops up.
+#+#+#+#
hi frank. i’m just finishing up @ work. sup w/ u?
+#+#+#+#
♠ ♠ ♠
I didn't error check but hope you somewhat likedcomments = life so please comment
[edit] i just went back and the little errors were annoying so i fixed them sooo....all better-ish now