I rushed down the hall, focusing on the water-stained map in my hand. The hot chocolate in my other sloshed over the brim of the paper cup every so often, splashing on to my wrist and burning my skin. I didn't pay attention to it, however, because I was slightly panicking. If you can't tell, I had no idea where I was.
I slammed right into someone and felt my wrist turn in, boiling hot chocolate spilling all down my front. I cursed out loud and backed up, wiping some of the hot liquid off my face and mumbling in an upset tone to myself. I felt the person I ran in to grab my wrist. I looked up to see Chandler Riggs mouthing something to me, but I couldn't hear it through the music coming out of my earbuds. I held up a finger in a "wait a second" gesture before ripping out my earbuds.
"Are you okay?" He asked, looking concerned. I nodded, taking out my phone to pause my music before shoving my headphones and phone into my bag. The hot chocolate, which was now cooling on my clothes, was just uncomfortable. I'd have to deal with this the whole day, too, since it was only 9 a.m.
"Actually…" Chandler began, looking me up and down while letting go of my wrist. I glanced up with a questioning look. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?"
I nodded, having heard this question at least fifty times since my arrival three days ago. "I'm a makeup artist. SFX stuff; blood, gore, scars. No doubt you haven't seen me before, I just got here a couple days ago."
"Cool. What's your name?" Chandler asked casually, picking up my paper cup and handing it back to me. I murmured a thanks before tossing it into a trash can a few feet away.
Then, I pointed to my name-tag on my left breast. He glanced down. "Andy? Isn't that a guy's name?"
I shrugged; another thing I'd heard a lot of in the past few days. "It's short for Andromeda, they just couldn't fit that on a name-tag. They asked for a nickname, so I just chose Andy."
"How do you say your last name?" By now, the amount of people asking this while staring at my boob wasn't unusual.
"Beau-ton. It just looks fancy 'cause my mom is French." I explained, tying my hair up with a ponytail and glancing at a clock on the wall. My phone's clock must've been fast, because this and my watch said I had fifteen minutes before I had to be in the makeup trailer.
"Your parents took your mom's name?" Questions, questions, questions. At least someone was interested in me, even if I already knew a lot about him.
"My parents got divorced… three years ago, I think. My dad's last name was O'Roarety, but I don't see him much anymore." I stared down at the soggy map in my hand, trying hard to read the wet and running ink.
"Oh, uh… Sorry about that, then." When I didn't respond, Chandler moved next to me to see the map. "What're you looking for?"
"I'm a makeup artist, aren't I?" The joke went right past him. He just set his jaw awkwardly. I sighed. "The makeup trailer by the south set. I'm just super lost right now and probably screwed."
"Oh, yeah," He turned and pointed down the way I came from. "Go down there, to the right, and into the set of double-doors. It leads to a really big open room and it's not hard to figure out where the makeup trailer is from there."
"Well, at least somebody knows their way around here." I sighed gratefully and shoved my map in my bag. "Thanks for the directions."
"Sure," As I began to walk away, he called after me, "I'm Chandler, by the way!"
"I know!" I smiled and responded without turning around. Of course I knew his name, what teenage girl wouldn't?
"A little bit more blood… aaaaand you're good to go. Come back if it starts to run, okay?" I waved off the Saviour actor and turned back to the scattered containers and brushes along the powder-spattered counter. The woman who was training me, Delphie, had gone off to go to the bathroom right before I finished the last actor. She had someone else on her schedule, but I had to clean up before I checked who it was.
This building was so poorly designed in the way that the bathrooms were as far as possible from the set, and in turn, the makeup trailer. Delphie would probably be back in fifteen minutes, give or take, and she had advised me to just start on whoever walked in next.
I brushed the loose powder into my hand and out into the trash can. The trailer door opened and shut, so I figured whoever Delphie was scheduled to work on had walked in.
"Just sit down in one of the chairs and I'll get to you in a second." I called to them with my back turned, wiping the fake blood spatters off the counter with a damp sponge. I turned back around to see Chandler sitting in the chair calmly, scrolling through his Instagram on his phone.
"Well, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon." I said, grabbing Delphie's schedule from her side of the counter. I scanned through it and read what I had to do with Chandler.
He glanced up as I set the papers down. "Oh, it's you again…"
Chandler stared at me as if trying to remember my name. I rolled my eyes and turned back around, gathering what I would need on the cleanest bit of counter. "Can't remember my name?"
"No, I do. It was something like…" He went silent. "…Anna?"
"Andy. Good try." I turned back around with a clean sponge. "Lift up your shirt."
"Uh… what?" Chandler set his phone down, giving me a weird look. I gave him the same look back, in a mocking way.
"I'm supposed to be doing your scar. Season two, Carl got shot through a deer. I know that sounded really weird, and I probably should have explained what I was doing first, but that's the way it's going right now. I have twenty-five minutes to finish this, so please just listen to me."
"Alright then…" He pulled his shirt up over his head and set it to the side. He looked like he expected some reaction from me, but I only continued on what I was doing.
"Okay, so, you're fifteen, right?" Chandler asked while I scooped up some of the scar wax on the metal scraper.
"Seventeen. I'm seventeen." I rolled my eyes and began sculpting the scar wax into a circle-like shape on his chest.
"Yeah, right, seventeen… How did you get a job as a makeup artist?" Here we go with the generic, somewhat intrusive questions. Nonetheless, I answered it.
"I don't know. I started doing blood and gore Halloween makeup on my little brother and sister when I was nine, and I guess I just liked it and kept practising, which made me get better. And now my mum has bragging rights that her daughter got a job before her ex-husband did."
Chandler laughed. I pulled the tool away from his chest quickly, giving him a dirty look.
"What?"
"Tell me before you're going to move so suddenly. This thing is sharper than you'd think; I've gotten more than just fake blood on me today." I gestured to my fingers and arms, which had scattered band-aids all around them.
"Oh, is that what those scars are from?" Chandler asked, his eyes falling on the scars along my forearms. My face flushed red and I cleared my throat awkwardly.
"No." I continued on the scar sculpting, focusing on it even more now.
"…Too personal?" He guessed, staring down at me.
"A little bit." I shot back, trying to force myself back into a good mood. "It doesn't matter, though."
Before he could respond to this, I stood up and grabbed the white body paint from the counter and began applying it silently. Chandler, sensing the awkwardness that fell over us, tried to change the subject.
"So, back when I first… uh, met you… you already knew my name. Do you know everyone's?"
I let out a silent sigh, glad for the new topic. "Almost everyone's. And I know a bit about them otherwise, too."
"Really?" Chandler sounded curious. "What do you know about me?"
"A few things, I guess." I didn't elaborate, but knew he was going to ask about it anyways.
"Things like…?"
"Let's see… you were born in Atlanta, for one. Your birthday is a few days after my little sister's, on June twenty-seventh. And you have a cute girlfriend." I listed them off casually, mixing together the sealant to make sure the scar would stay how it looked now.
"You're right… uh, except for that last one." I glanced back at him; he looked a little embarrassed. "I did have a cute girlfriend. She broke up with me a couple weeks back."
"Oh, damn, dude. That… sucks." I'm bad with sympathy. While I did feel bad for him, a small part of my brain was wondering why somebody would dump him.
"Yeah, but I guess it's okay. I still have to focus on acting, and all that. So it's not like I've been a complete mess over it." He explained.
"It's fine if you're hung up over her." I began, painting the sealant on carefully so that it wouldn't run. "It took me months to get over my last boyfriend. But, you know, time goes on."
"You had a boyfriend?" Chandler asked, sounding mildly surprised. I snorted and rolled my eyes in the least attractive way possible.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Yes, I did actually have someone who liked me once. I'm not that ugly." I said with half of a smile.
Chandler looked like he was about to apologize, then stopped. I looked up to see what it was and saw the door open and close, and Delphie walked in. She glanced over at me, before setting her phone and folder down beside the door.
"Almost done, Andromeda?" She asked professionally, in the voice she only used around the actors and actresses.
"Yes, ma'am. You can finish up with the other stuff." I replied in the same professional tone. She threw me a wink and I smiled, standing up and wiping my hands on my jeans. Then, turning to Chandler, I replied with, "By the way, you're forgiven."
"Hey, wait up!" I turned around to see Chandler hurrying towards me. I raised my hand in a 'stop' gesture. He slowed down and stopped a few feet from me, giving me a confused look. I slowly set my cup of tea down on the table outside the makeup trailer and then turned to him.
"Okay, come on. I'm not that reckless." Chandler stared at me with an exhasperated look. I grinned.
"I know. Just making sure, since, you know, hot tea would hurt more than hot chocolate." I leaned against the makeup trailer. "So… what do you need? Did the makeup come off in the rain?"
"No, no," He paused, then continued. "I was wondering one thing."
"Then spit it out, buddy. I don't have that much time here." That was a complete lie. Since we were in the middle of filming and neither Delphie nor I did any zombie makeup, we usually had half-hour to two-hour breaks in random points in the day.
Chandler gave me a look that suggested that he knew I was lying, but began talking anyways. "So, usually, when girls meet me, they freak out or –or something like that. You didn't do that. Why?"
"Really? This is what was so important?" I raised an eyebrow and took a sip of my tea. "Couldn't this have waited until after filming?"
"Yeah, I know, not important. But it's been eating away at me and I want to know."
I took a deep breath, almost inhaling some of my tea. I played it cool and tried not to cough. I don't think he noticed. "Well, you're just a person. Not that much different from meeting a stranger on the street."
Chandler really didn't look satisfied with this answer. "So… you know a lot about me, but you didn't freak out when you met me."
"Yes, Chandler, believe it or not, I can actually control myself. Plus, I don't know a lot about you. Just odds and ends." I brushed my hair out of my face calmly. Chandler was looking a little agitated now, and I had to try not to laugh.
"You'd seem like the type of person to fangirl over—"
I cut him off. "Chandler, hon, you're cute, I'll admit that. But really, you're just a normal person. And if it's what you're asking, then no, I don't feel the urge to freak out around you."
Chandler let out a short sigh. I smiled and picked up my tea. "Well, then, if that's all, then see you later!"
I waved to him and hurried into the makeup trailer, shutting the door behind me before he could say anything else. Delphie glanced up from her magazine, giving me the most teenage-girl look a fourty-seven year old woman could make. "You're not the nicest girl I've met, you know that?"
"Yeah, I'm a bitch."
"How is it that every time I run into you, you somehow have a drink in your hand?" Chandler asked crossly, helping me wipe iced tea from my face. I snickered.
"Gotta stay hydrated." I shoved the cup into my bag and pulled out an extra tank top. I had known I was going to need it.
"It's only spring, you don't have to wear that light of clothing." Chandler commented as I turned my back to him and pulled my shirt off. "And shouldn't you be doing that in the bathroom or something?"
"Well, it's not like I'm in public. You're the only other one in here." I fixed the tank top and dropped my wet shirt on to my bag. "And I'm not used to this Hell-like heat of Georgia. I'm from Seattle, damn it."
When I turned back to him, I saw his cheeks were bright pink. I pretended not to notice. "So, then, why are you here this time? But props on remembering to come after the filming day is over."
"What? Uh –yeah, thanks, I guess." He seemed to have trouble regaining himself. I sighed.
"Come on, Chan. Just tell me what you need. I have to go pretty soon." My mom was expecting me to pick up my little sister and brother from middle school and be home in an hour, and their school wasn't exactly close.
"Chan…?" He said to himself quizzically in a soft voice. He shook his head and looked back up at me. "I was wondering if—"
My phone rang loudly. I groaned and snatched it off the counter.
"Mom. Sorry, hold on."
As soon as I picked it up, I heard my mom begin almost yelling in my ear. I held the phone away from me a little bit. "Mum, calm down. I'll be home in a little bi—wait, Athena and Orion are already home? How are they –ah, fuck. Okay, mum, give me twenty minutes. Yes, I'm leaving no—"
A click followed. Chandler gave me a confused look as I shoved my phone in my back pocket. "Sorry about that. I have to go."
"Can I say what I was going to say?" He asked, sounding annoyed. I shook my head, but grabbed a notepad and pen that were sitting on Delphie's chair. I scribbled my phone number down, ripped off the piece of paper, and thrust it at Chandler.
"If it's really that important, then just text or call me. I'll see you tomorrow." I grabbed my bag off the floor and hurried out of the makeup trailer, leaving Chandler there.
My phone buzzed, waking me up unpleasantly. Half-asleep, I looked up and paused the video I still had running. I apparently had fallen asleep, considering the fairy lights were still on above me and I had forgotten to turn off my ceiling fan. I groaned and sat up, rubbing my eyes.
My phone stopped buzzing, but as soon as it fell silent, it began buzzing again. I let out an annoyed hiss, then grabbed my phone. As I went to unlock it, I noticed that not only was someone calling me, but it was also three-fifteen in the morning. Which, even in Seattle, it would be considered late if you have work the next day.
Taking a deep breath and hoping I would sound awake enough, I hit answer.
"Honestly, I don't know who is calling me, but it better be damn well important. Oh, and this is Andromeda." I tried to make myself sound awake, but I knew that I sounded tired as hell.
"Hey, uh—"
"Wait, hold on, is this Chandler? What… why are you calling me at three in the morning? And how did you get my number?" I asked in confusion.
"It is Chandler, and you gave me your number. This afternoon. Don't you remember any of that?" I glanced at the almost-empty bottle of champagne lying sideways on my desk.
"I don't remember any of that… but I'll take your word for that." A second passed, then I spoke again. "Wait, you didn't answer. Why'd you call me?"
"Well… it sounds pathetic saying it out loud, but… I couldn't sleep and was… er… wondering if you were going to pick up." Chandler said sheepishly. I sighed and slumped back down into my blankets, staring at the half-unpacked boxes clumped by my closet.
"It does sound pathetic, you're right. Why would you call me?"
The line went silent and I wondered if he'd hung up.
"I don't know. I saw the paper you gave me on top of my bag and…" He trailed off. I sighed heavily.
"Chandler, don't you have friends you can call?" I left out the part about the hypocrisy in that sentence, considering I didn't.
"I do, but they're all asleep."
"Well, damn. This might have come as a surprise, but I was too."
"Should I hang up now?"
"Do you need to tell me something?"
"I don't but –wait, why is your voice all slurred?"
"I'm tired. I was asleep." I looked away from the champagne bottle guiltily, as if he would notice.
"…Can I ask you something?"
"What is it."
"Those scars on your arms, I know you said it was personal, but I was wondering if I could ask about them—"
"No, you can't. Goodnight, Chandler." I hit 'end' and threw my phone down. My phone buzzed once, indicating a text, then went silent. I'd check my messages in the morning…
"He'll wake up while I'm whispering "Baby, it's almost noon"
But we could kiss all day in this tiny room
We like walking wearing black matching Converse shoes
Instead of diamond rings we get new tattoos"
I rolled over and grabbed my phone, hitting "dismiss" on my alarm. I groped around on my nightstand and picked up my glasses, putting them on and checking the clock. Six a.m. exactly, which gave me an hour and a half to get ready and get to the set. I sighed and pushed myself up, climbing out of bed. As I reached for the empty champagne bottle, I remembered the call with Chandler last night.
I pushed it out of my mind and snatched the bottle up, resisting the urge to throw it. Instead, I shoved it into my bag, hoping to smuggle it out to the recycling bin so my mother wouldn't notice it. She doesn't even notice when a bottle or two goes missing every week.
"Andy?" I dropped the bottle and whirled around. Athena was standing in the doorway, her hair in a bun and sleepiness radiating from her still.
"What is it, 'Thena?" I began to rifle around in the boxes for clothes to wear today. As I reached for my Marauder's Map dress, I remembered that I didn't see my tea-stained shirt in my bag. I groaned inwardly.
"Can you drive me and Rion to school today? We've got to bring our science projects and I don't know if they're allowed on the bus."
So, I'd have to leave twenty minutes early for that. "Fine. Be ready in an hour. I'm taking a shower first."
"Okay. I'll tell Rion."
"Call mum after your ballet practise to see if she can pick you up. I have to do something after work." I told Athena as we neared her middle school.
I heard the twins giggle and glanced at them in the rearview mirror. "What?"
Athena managed to get the words out first. "Is it Chandler?"
"Is what Chandler?" I asked, pulling into the turn lane, not completely paying attention to my younger siblings.
"You said you're doing something after work. Is it Chandler?" Orion and Athena said in unison, then high-fived.
I sighed heavily. They'd made nonstop jokes about him and I since I told mum about running into him. "No, Athena. I'm not going to have sex with Chandler, okay? Now get out."
I stopped the car in the drop-off lane and practically shoo-ed them towards their school. Then, still grumbling to myself, I headed off towards the set.
I sank into the makeup chair and switched on my phone. Twelve-ten and I'd already done four separate applications of a bite, a stab mark, a gunshot, and a severed hand. While I was rather pleased at how all of them turned out, I was not too happy about avoiding Chandler the entire day.
Delphie had left ten minutes ago for her lunch break. She told me to meet her there, but I said I'd just skip lunch today. She wasn't pleased about that, considering that was my excuse for the last few days. I put my earbuds in and started on the next song in my playlist, then let my phone fall in my lap.
Though my head hurt with a weak hangover, I had to ride through it nonetheless. It wasn't great hearing the gunshot sound effects from the set, but there wasn't much I could do other than continue taking Advil every half hour.
I set back and sang softly along to the music, not really caring how I sounded.
"It's safe to say that I'm swimming in a deep devotion; Didn't heed the warning signs; Threw the flares into the ocean; Gave into the waves this time…"
I felt someone tap my shoulder and jumped, my eyes opening instantly. Chandler was staring at me, looking mildly concerned. I pulled out my earbuds and paused the song. "You again."
"Yeah, it would seem that way." He handed me a bundle of fabric. I glanced down at it and slowly took it from him. "It's your shirt. From yesterday. You forgot it on the floor so…"
"Uh… thanks." I threw it at my bag, making sure it at least fell within the vinicity. When Chandler didn't move, I continued. "Did… you need something? For real this time?"
I made sure my sleeves were pulled down. He shook his head. "Can I stay in here with you?"
"Sure, I guess…" I responded awkwardly. Chandler leaned against the counter.
"So… last night. Sorry about that."
"It's fine."
"I know, but not just calling you really late. I shouldn't have asked about the scars again. But one thing that I do want to ask—"
I groaned. "I wasn't drunk."
Chandler gave me a bewildered look. "I…wasn't going to ask that, but now that you mention it…"
"Chandler, maybe I should tell you now. We're not friends. I'm trying to keep all of this professional, because once you start relationships with people you work with, everything falls to shit. And I actually like you, so I don't want to start hating you."
He looked a little hurt, but pretended to brushed it off terribly. "Yeah, yeah… I know. I was actually just going to ask which Fallout game you like best, but…"
Chandler gestured to my rumpled-up shirt with the Sierra Madre logo on it and I felt my face turn red. "Shit… I must have sounded like a total dick. I thought you were going to ask something… else."
"I guess I did come off like that." He smiled and laughed a little bit, but he looked a little nervous. "But, uh… no, I wasn't going to, like… ask you out or anything."
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling with a small smile. "Wouldn't expect you to, hon. I'm hardly in your league. Actually, I could say that I'm not even in the fuckin' crowd here."
"What do you mean?" Chandler sat down in the chair a few feet away. "You're pretty, and funny."
"Yeah, thanks, but no. I'm not even saying this to get compliments. Why do you think my last boyfriend got rid of me?" I asked, giggling to lighten the conversation.
"That's… a little harsh. I don't think someone would 'get rid' of their girlfriend…" Chandler, on the other hand, almost sounded serious. I wished I could've taken back what I said.
"All I'm saying is I'm not exactly girlfriend material. Especially," I glanced over at him, just so he could see my smile. "For someone like you. You'd probably be better with… I don't know… an actress or something like that. Someone like… Ariel Winter."
Chandler went silent. I tapped my fingers on the arm of my chair, knowing he wouldn't respond to that.
"And anyways, I'm a makeup artist. Rarely do they get popular like actors do. It would be shit for your reputation to even be seen with someone like me."
"You don't think much of yourself, do you?" Chandler asked softly, staring straight ahead of him.
"Mm… Not really, but, eh." I sat up straight and glanced at the clock. "Why're we talking about this? Actually, why're we talking at all?"
Chandler shrugged. "Don't know. You're going to be one of the people doing my makeup, so it's best to be on good terms with you."
I laughed. "Man, I get paid to make y'all look camera-ready. I wouldn't mess up your makeup anyways."
He grinned, looking over at me. "Still, doesn't mean you won't 'accidentally' get something in my eye once or twice."
"Or three times? You're right there." I forgot almost overnight how much fun it was to laugh with somebody.