"Leon, for the love of all that is good and holy, hold still!" an exasperated woman implored the young man currently perched in the makeup artist's chair, said man doing his best not to flinch at the eyeliner application.
"I'm trying" he all but whined, inwardly trying to will his eyes to kindly calm the crap down. The actor curled his hands into fists, fingers practically digging into his pants as he attempted in vain to ground himself and pay attention to anything besides the mental image of his eyes being stabbed with a makeup brush or pen. Damn his imagination!
It was quite sad, really. All actors and actresses needed at least some makeup as part of the costuming process. Leon was no stranger to the value of makeup when it came to the stage or screen. Nor did he particularly harbor any loathing for the stuff. It wasn't girly in this profession, it was all for a reason to help the players come alive and stand out despite the backgrounds, lights, effects, and other such elements of putting together a performance.
But damn did it feel weird!
Foundations, creams, and powders were not too bad. Brushes along his face could almost be relaxing. The penciling of eyebrows wasn't unduly unpleasant. Lipstick felt kind of gross, but he could get over it after a short stint. But the eyes!
He cringed at his eyes being approached, no matter how many times he'd had them done. Open or closed, it was still an ordeal. And one only a few makeup artists were willing to deal with as a regular gig.
And so here he was, his personal makeup artist scolding him for the seventieth time as she expertly touched up his eyes despite the flinching. Miranda truly was a master at her craft, and determined to do her job no matter the odds.
Leon heard footsteps, then a familiar snicker from his best friend and the key to him making it into show business.
"You're more twitchy than a damn rabbit"
"And you smell like a mothball rolled around in the dirt and then yried to hide behind dryer sheets to conceal the smell." Leon drawled, prompting a half pout and arched brows from Ryan.
"I smell perfectly delightful under my coat, I'll have you know!" The man huffed, barely reacting as Miranda leaned over for an experimental sniff.
"He's right, actually." She concluded before resuming her chore, giving Leon a glare as he dared to open his eyes before she had finished. "But seriously Ryan...why the hell do you insist on wearing the same jacket every. Single. Day? When do you wash it?"
"It's my favorite jacket! It's really friggen comfortable..."
"You still need to wash it!"
"I don't have any good spares! Just a shitty poncho..."
"So get another one! I don't care if you have a closet of the same jacket, just don't wear the same one 24/7!"
Leon snickered, opening one eye as he imagined a Batman closet full of the navy blue jackets Ryan wore.
"Hold still! You can't wipe or sweat it off until after your chase scene."
-----------------
At long last, Leon was ready for filming; all made-up, scene envisioned in his mind, props assembled, costume in place. He glanced around at the assembled cast and crew, smiling at the ones he was familiar with.
Two and a half blocks of road had been sectioned off for an on foot chase scene. Leon and Ryan tracking down two criminals (Brandon and Andy), who had some serious leads into their main target, and they were dangerously close to getting the slip on them again. Along the sides were bustling crowds, most of them fairly regular extras who knew the drill by now. Out of the frames would be some padding and faux scenery pieces they would be "thrown" into during the rookie cops chase. Expertly placed and decorated poles, bikes, trash cans, etc. After all, while injuries did frequently happen in show business, they didn't want to make things unnecessarily risky and unpleasant.