2. Come Together

 It is complete and utter chaos.

 I could feel it when I woke up this morning that somehow I was going to be thrown in the center of a very large hurricane and there was very little I would be able to do to stop it from pushing me around. We haven’t even seen the actors yet and already I feel as if my whole world is going to shit.

 My other make up artists are running around like a bunch of decapitated chickens and I finally had to tell the anxious and muddled Holly Douglas to sit down in one of the salon styled chairs to clam herself down. The fact is she is so new when it comes to this that I had to help her organize which facial brushes she’d be using to accommodate Jude Law’s facial features.

 Thank the lord the rest of my team has some sense.

 I sent the third in command, Raven, to meet the more seasoned actors in wardrobe to look at the various costumes they’d be wearing today and to take Polaroids so we could respond accordingly. In this world, the way you do an actor’s face needs to compliment the colors they’re wearing. Thankfully, she just radioed to tell me the color schemes that the younger leads would be wearing for the first scene of the day.

 And then a runner called to inform me that Valora Francis would be running behind schedule and that as soon as we applied the make up and the actors were in costume, the director requested that all the actors behave and act like their characters would.

 So that means for the majority of the time I’m here, I’m going to have to deal with a conservative Baptist mother, a racist grandfather, and a bigoted secret porn loving father. Not to mention a gay son, crack head daughter, charming fiancé, and one not so screwed up daughter.

 Yeah, it’s going to be an awesome three months.

 “Penny!” Holly moans, “Which color palate am I using for Jude again?” she’s standing at one of the workstations, looking at huge array of papers strewn all over the place. Each paper has a blank face drawn on it. My job, before principal photography, was to create different palates for the different looks each role requires. Holly has managed to push them out of chronological order.

 The poor thing is such a lost cause.

 I rush over and shuffle through the papers just as the trailer door swings open. I yank out the piece of paper that shows what colors we’ll be splashing on Jude’s face and slam it down on the counter, whisking the rest of the papers out of Holly’s reach.

 “Hiya!” I say in the direction of the three people gathered in the small entrance of the trailer, “Sorry for the rush, I’m Penelope Asherbee…Penny,” I feel terrible because I’m hurrying around trying my best to get everything organized while I have three enormously famous actors loitering. I’m not even looking at them. I manage to get the papers thrown into a notebook sitting at the edge of the vanity counter. Shoving a loose piece of blonde hair out of my face, I make my way towards the entrance, extending a hand to each person.

 “Happy to be working with you,” I add, “why don’t you,” I point at Jude who seems a bit amused at all the hubbub, “Go take a seat with Holly…” a nervous squeak alerts that Holly has heard me and is more than likely shaking in her flats, “and she’ll be taking care of you for your first scene.”

 Law smiles and heads towards Holly who is twittering her name and acting all flustered as he approaches. I hope the girl can handle it or else I’m going to have to do a lot more work than need be. Thankfully, my other assistant is in the other room going through our stores of makeup.

 “Corbin!” I call over my shoulder. There’s a hell of a lot of thudding going around in the back room of the trailer and suddenly the fabulousness of Corbin Scott comes waltzing into the room, throwing the long end of a multi-colored scarf over his shoulder. The sad thing about Corbin is, he’s three years older than me and could probably be in my position – if he were more motivated and would stop going out until all hours of the night.

 “Oh hello! I didn’t realize you were all here!” he exclaims as he throws his hands together in excitement. I watch as Timberlake and McAdams exchange a quick knowing glance before Corbin flamboyantly throws his hand around for all to shake, “Who’s my victim?” he asks me.

 “Why don’t you take Miss McAdams? The palates are…”

 “Got it,” Corbin responds as he picks up the notebook and whisks Rachel McAdams away in a flurry of ‘Mean Girls was my Pretty in Pink,’ chatter.

 “Bloody hell,” I mutter under my breath as I push more hair out of my face. I need to tie it back more securely next time.

 “Long day?” I’ve almost forgotten that Timberlake is still standing there and I give a little start at his sudden comment.

 “Yes, and it isn’t even ten o’clock yet,” I respond before I direct him towards the seat right next to his male co-star. He chuckles before his phone starts to beep. He leaps to attention and dutifully sends his fingers into full on texting mode.

 I’m about to pull out his own color palate when I hear the quiet little whimpers that I’ve come to associate with Holly being unsure about something.

 “Um…Pen?”

 "Yes, Holly?” I answer turning around to see Holly standing over a perplexed Mr. Law with a foundation compact in one hand and a brush in the other.

 “I’m a bit confused…”

 “Do you mind, Mr. Timberlake? It will only take a few minutes…”

 “Justin,” comes his response as he looks up from his phone, “And I don’t mind at all. Do what you gotta do.” I smile in reply and hurry over to a bumbling Holly and a still bemused Jude Law.

 “They’re doing the entrance scene today,” I explain to Holly as I gingerly take the foundation brush out of her quivering hands, “that means Mr. Law…”

 “Jude, please, Mr. Law is my father,” he responds good naturedly and with a beaming smile. For a second I almost forget I’m supposed to be doing his make up and I want nothing more than to fire back with a somewhat flirty response.

 But no, I am an employee and after my last relationship I swore off any intimate contact with the opposite sex. Stupid freaking boyfriends who think that oral sex and going halfway doesn’t mean cheating. Besides, I don’t do the actor thing.

 “Yes, Jude,” I continue, “will need palate four. Which means you need to use this,” I pull out rogue and a blush brush, “on the apple of the cheek, the tip of the nose, and a little bit on the forehead. This is late fall, and it’s windy…I’m sure you get the picture now?” I ask Holly who looks like she’s lapping up everything I’m saying.

 Without another word, I turn back towards my own charge who is still texting away and trying to grin like an idiot discreetly. “So,” I state clapping my hands together to get his attention, “You excited for the first day?”

 “I guess…” his voice fades away and I look at his reflection in the mirror. He seems perplexed and a bit embarrassed by something. I pay no mind as I get his base make up ready; it probably has something to do with whoever he’s talking to, “Look, I’m sorry…what was your name again? I’m terrible with names.”

 “It’s Penelope,” I say, “And no sweat, it’s a common name, highly forgettable…”

 “No, I think you’re the first Penelope I’ve ever met. Not so common that one…”

 “Ouch! Oh bollocks!”

 “Oh my God I’m so sorry!” My train of thought is completely derailed as a slight commotion erupts at Holly’s station. I turn around quickly and see Holly jumping from one foot to another as Jude is leaning forward, his hand clutched over his left eye. Holly looks close to tears and I watch as the eye pencil she was using falls to the floor.

 “What happened?” I ask, completely dropping my conversation with Justin. Corbin has stopped his incessant gabbing with Rachel and the two of them are watching the scene with interest. I have no idea what Justin is doing since my back is to him, “Holly, calm down and tell me what happened.”

 “She poked me with the eye pencil,” Jude responds, “its no harm done, really.”

 “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Holly says over and over again and I can see the frustrated tears brimming in her brown eyes.

 “Holly, calm down and please escort Jude to the first aid tent so he can get his eye checked out. It happens all the time and it would be good for you if you could take a few deep breaths and realize that it isn’t the end of the world. It will be if he ends up blind in one eye, though.”

 “Which I don’t think should be a problem,” he responds with a chuckle. Damn that accent is cute, “my eye sight is returning to normal.” He blinks furiously a few times, his eye still watering from the sudden fright of being attacked with an eye pencil, “but why don’t we head to that first aid tent, Holly? We can get a bit of tea along the way to calm you down.”

 “Okay,” she replies meekly before the most polite and becoming male actor I’ve had the pleasure of working with escorts her out.

 Shaking my head, I turn back towards Justin who has the biggest smirk on his face. “Sorry about that,” I respond, “First day, things are a bit haggard until we get into the swing of things.”

 “Eh, it happens,” he states with a noncommittal shrug before his phone begins to beep. He leaps to action as I grab a bit of foundation, texting a response with such fluidity you’d think his phone was an extra appendage.

 I think this man has an unhealthy obsession.

 I press the sponge to his face and begin to spread the foundation around his face. I try to ignore the face he’s making. You’d think being in a handful of movies he’d get used to the fact that make up needs to be worn. But most men try to act exceedingly manly when they’re in make up and wardrobe – especially those who have high testosterone levels.

 He manages to look away from his phone for a few minutes and we engage in the obligatory introduction chatter. I tell him where I’m from, what my parents do, why I’m wasting my life putting make up on over chatty celebrities and actors. The nice thing about working with actors is they’re self centered enough to think that everyone knows everything about them and therefore the general chatter doesn’t apply to them.

 Which is nice; because I’ve been in make up chairs with actors who can go on for hours talking about their childhood pet Smokey and how the animal managed to get their first break in an Iams commercial.

 Yes that has happened to me before…thank you Vince Vaughn.

 “We need Timberlake and McAdams in wardrobe,” a runner has appeared through the crack of the trailer door. I nod in their direction and I go back to look at Justin but he’s talking a mile a minute on his phone, an enormous smile playing on his lips. Doesn’t help that I still have to apply the highlight on his cheekbones.

 Oh well, I guess they’ll call me or one of the other assistants on set for touch ups.

 I lean against the counter as I watch Justin get to his feet and walk with Rachel out of the trailer towards wardrobe. Corbin saunters up to me and leans against the counter with me.

 “She’s super nice,” he comments before he checks his fingernails, which have been painted black. “I need to add another coat soon. I hope I never have to deal with that witch Valora.”

 “Is she that bad?” I ask. I’ve heard stories and Elle thinks she’s a right terror, but I have yet to be on the end of one of her notorious tantrums.

 “Honey, she makes Naomi look like a pussycat,” Corbin explains with a huff before he fidgets with the fringe of his scarf that I’m sure cost him at least four hundred dollars at the Beverly Center. I’m sure Corbin would tell you that it was worth every penny.

 “Who’s Naomi?” I try to ignore the highly affronted look that Corbin is giving me right now. To avoid more judgmental looks, I start to clean up my station. Hopefully he won’t go off on some random celebrity diva who can’t get over herself. Thankfully, he’s too interested in his fingernails.

 “Penny?” I look up to see a runner poking his head into the trailer. I have no idea where Holly is and I don’t care to ask at the moment. Hopefully she’s off at the catering truck and not in anyone’s way.

 “What can I help you with?”

 “Um…we need you to head to Miss Francis’s trailer. We tried to send one of your people in there, but she requested you personally.” The guy sounds nervous and I can only imagine that the production staff sent Holly to Francis. Great – if Valora Francis is as bad as everyone says she is then I think Holly is drowning herself in a sea of tears.

 I make sure Corbin has everything under control before I grab my own personal headset so the assistant directors and the other people calling this rat race can get a hold of me or anyone on my crew. Snatching Valora Francis’s color palates and her assigned make-up case I allow the little gopher to take me down the rabbit hole.