Hey, y'all! As you might know, today is the anniversary of the day I joined FFNet! This is one of the first of three updates/stories I'll be posting! (My PM options are back on for today; no promises for the rest of the week because of parents' tracking devices, but hopefully I can keep the option on for the entire week!) The C2 update will come shortly after this (hopefully) and after that, a one-shot that is somewhat of a companion to this one! My writing has rapidly gone downhill because I've been away from FFNet for so long, so if this piece of work doesn't live up to my normal standards, I am deeply sorry! My new addiction is Teen Titans, but the stories I try and write for it I always give up on and they just are too boring and really hard to read - y'know, the kind of story that you read only because you know the author but you have to wade through the words because it has too much exposition... a.k.a. my stories - it's okay, I know y'all think that sometimes! Back to the point, I've been spending more time on the Teen Titans archive than the LR archive; sorry about that. It's where my interests lie right now! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.
"Yes! You made it!" Friends clapped each other on the back as the drama play selections were posted on the cafeteria's wall. The results for the auditions had kept many students waiting for days, and now they were finally here. Principal Perry had kept procrastinating on posting them because she had forgotten about the theatre program until the theatre teacher stormed in and threatened to sue.
Some people drifted away, wondering why they hadn't remembered their audition lines a little more carefully; others cheered and shouted and whistled.
For a certain bionic girl, she left feeling happy.
Bree Davenport had made the school play!
Tonight was the night of the play, and Bree was thrilled. They were finally putting on the makeup!
Well, Bree wasn't really a makeup-obsessed girl, but she put a fair amount on, just like the next girl.
Of course, things aren't always the same as they are at home, now, are they?
Presenting: Stage Makeup!
STEP ONE: FOUNDATION
"Find the right color that matches your skin tone," a senior who had been in theatre since middle school. "Be careful because your home foundation doesn't always match the Ben Nye foundation that we use."
Bree tuned the senior out as soon as she heard "skin tone," and dashed off to the makeup bin.
Sifting through the multiple compact foundations, each with a gray Ben Nye stamped on front, she found Au Lait, the one she owned at home.
She knew how to apply foundation without a mirror—or did she?
Well, it turns out Bree underestimated how tough foundation really could be.
She turned brightly to a freshman and exclaimed, "How do I look?"
The freshman recoiled a little and then tried to recover. "You… you are… just—you know, just a little…"
The freshman reached over and showed Bree her reflection in a handheld mirror.
Bree gasped. She was a pasty pale girl with a fishy tone to her once beautiful skin.
LESSON LEARNED: LISTEN TO THE SENIORS AND REMEMBER THAT HOME IS NOT THE SAME AS THEATRE MAKEUP.
STEP TWO: POWDER
"You can't mess up powder," the freshman muttered, putting away the mirror.
"I know," Bree said exasperated already.
Reaching for the powder jar, she clenched it firmly in her hands, not ready to let it go.
She was itching to get the whole thing done with her super speed but it would be rather uncouth and revealing… and she would reveal her secret.
Two sophomores, quarreling over the same foundation disk, crashed into the helpful senior, who wobbled, tripping over a chair. The chair in turn got caught in another sophomore's costume and said sophomore tumbled into Bree, who dropped the powder and watched in horror as it clouded up in the air, settling in many disgruntled actors' hair.
LESSON LEARNED: PEOPLE ARE UNPREDICTABLE KEEP A GOOD GRIP ON THINGS.
STEP THREE: BLUSH
"You know how to use blush, right?" The senior looked cautiously at Bree, who looked like she was already wearing blush. Great rosebushes bloomed on Bree's cheeks.
"Of course I know how!" Bree huffed, more than a little indignant.
"I just wanted to make sure," the senior said a little uneasily. "After all, you did—"
"Yes, yes, I know, I get it!" Bree sighed.
"All right then," the senior retorted. "Certainly wouldn't want you looking like a wreck when you're the star of the play, aren't you?"
Bree yanked a blush compact disk harder than she should have from the tray.
Usually, her own blush took a while to show up, so she usually had to press extra hard.
Of course, Bree had already forgotten the senior's warning, as she was so hyper because of the pure adrenaline that it was the night of the play!
Bree jabbed the brush at her cheeks.
Oops.
LESSON LEARNED: STAGE BLUSH GOES IN A LOT DEEPER INTO THE SKIN THAN HOME BLUSH DOES.
STEP FOUR: LIPSTICK
"This you certainly can't go wrong with," the senior sighed, more annoyed than patient now. She dug around in a big wicker basket and pulled out a new tube of lipstick. "It's new. Enjoy while it lasts… The q-tips are in a plastic bag over there," she continued, gesturing to foundation table. "If you need anything I'm helping others with the eyeliner," she said, looking even more warily at Bree.
Bree nodded, severely embarrassed.
It was odd at how the senior said it was new and that Bree herself should enjoy it while it lasted. Weren't all of them new? It was, after all, terribly unsanitary to have everybody share the same lipsticks. Hello! Germs much?
Popping off the cap to the tube, she began smoothing it over her lips just in time to hear the senior run over and yell, "You! Junior! The one with the lipstick! What the … are you doing!"
Bree knew the senior was going to say something rude in between "the" and "are," until the senior she glanced at the freshmans in the room, knowing her limits.
"What? It's lipstick! This is how you apply it, right!" She pursed her lips in front of the mirror and moved the tube back to her lips."
"You idiot! How else are other people supposed to use it! Idiot…" The senior was beet-red in the face.
"They… aren't?" Bree said, confusedly.
"Idi—Junior, there's a reason I told you about the bloody q-tips! You idio—"
"My name is Bree!" Bree sniffed.
"Nobody cares," snapped the senior. "You don't put the bloody tube on your lips! It's unsanitary! What, do you think Mr. Ennis* has to go out an buy a new tube of lipstick every time somebody wants to apply it? There are over eighty people in this play and they all need lipstick for lighting—eighty tubes! Per play! And we have three plays a year! Do your math, Beatrice! Eighty times three is two hundred and forty tubes of lipstick! For a year! How many years has this school been standing, huh?"
The senior paused for breath and Bree jumped in. "Look, I'm sorry! I didn't know; I'm new to this stage business! I'll go get the q-tips—geez, I'm sorry!" She paused. "My name's not Beatrice!"
The senior was fed up. "Brat," she mumbled under her breath. "You mess up one more time and I swear I will…" The senior stomped away.
"Wait! What's your name?" Bree had just realized she had no idea what the senior's name was.
The senior said something, but Bree couldn't quite hear it because of the same sophomores arguing over a bag of eye shadows.
Bree sighed and grabbed a q-tip. She was about to toss the tube back into the tub when the senior suddenly reappeared and said, "Do I have to spell everything out for you? People can't use that; it's got your salivating germs on it! Throw it out, for heaven's sake!"
Bree tossed it into a garbage can. Control freak much?
"You know I wouldn't have to keep on stalking you to make sure you don't mess up again if you were a little more responsible!" The senior shook her head, reading Bree's mind.
LESSON LEARNED: LIPSTICK IS SHARED; ALWAYS USE Q-TIPS.
STEP FIVE: EYELINER
Interestingly, the senior was nowhere to be found when Bree hesitatingly reached for some eyeliner.
Coincidentally, while she was calmly applying it, looking into a mirror, the freshman who had been present for the foundation incident was fiddling with her costume and a bag with school books in it dropped on Bree's lap, startling her and causing her to jab the eyelining pencil up.
Into the eye.
Ouch!
LESSON LEARNED: FRESHMANS ARE CLUMSY—ALWAYS BE ALERT WHILE PUTTING ANYTHING NEAR YOUR EYE.
STEP SIX: EYE SHADOW
Bree was smart enough by now to know to use a q-tip for eye shadow.
Her eye still smarting from the eyeliner pencil, she considered her options for eye shadow. She was going for a nice bright color, so she chose a light purple… "Lilting Lavender," it read.
The senior was nowhere to be found.
Tentatively, she started applying it. She was relieved—nothing bad was happening. Yet.
And she finished! Calmly! Quickly! Smoothly! Bree congratulated herself.
Until she realized that this wasn't eye shadow.
It was a paint disk. A purple paint called Lilting Lavender. Not eye shadow…
The paint started dripping into Bree's eyes.
LESSON LEARNED: LOOK BEFORE YOU LEAP.
STEP SEVEN: MASCARA
Bree had a staring contest with her bottle of mascara. She was smart enough to guess that by now you had to bring your own mascara, because Mr. Ennis didn't carry mascara. After all, you could spread pinkeye with it, and he couldn't afford to be sued by many angry parents. Her poor eyes were throbbing red—she'd need to put some more concealer on later. She had already shoved a pencil in her eye, and paint had scorched her other eye.
She was very wary by now.
It was the last step. Did she really want to do it?
She stared at it a little more.
As the star of the play, it was imperative that she wore makeup, Mr. Ennis had insisted.
"Ugh…" Bree was shaking as she picked up the mascara brush/wand and dipped it slowly into the jar. Black liquid was dripping on the brush and she very carefully, very cautiously, very slowly applied it, going for nice curves and even lashes.
All was going perfect.
Imagine a record needle scratching to a stop.
"You know that you didn't have to wear mascara, right?" The senior suddenly appeared behind Bree.
Bree jumped a little and—yes—just like the eyeliner—the mascara globs cascaded into her eye.
"YOW!"
LESSON LEARNED: BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR SNEAKY, SOFT-FOOTED, STRICT, SMART ALECK SENIORS.
The ordeal was finally over. Makeup was finished. The curtain was about to go up.
Suddenly, the senior, who Bree finally remembered was the assistant director—showed up, smiling a little.
"Hey, Bianca," the senior smiled, totally different than she was, stressed and harried, backstage.
"It's Bree," Bree corrected, stiffening a little.
"Relax," the senior replied. "I'm not really like that. It's just kind of a test I give to all theatre students juniors and below. You did well, actually. Most people started crying and said that they quit. This past four years, only four people withheld my methods."
"Really?" Bree said, shocked.
The senior nodded.
"But weren't you a freshman, four years ago?"
The senior's eye twinkled. "I have my ways," she smiled.
"Good luck, Bree," she said, slipping backstage.
Bree smiled and nodded. Oh! She remembered my name correctly for once!
"And…" the senior said, head peeking around the corner.
"The name's Sophronia."*
The curtain lifted, and Bree faced the audience, smoothly, calm, and collected.
CURTAIN CALL!
So! I bet I know what you're thinking. "That was okay. Not as good. Could have been better." Yeah, yeah, I know. Rocky, bad flow, poor word choice, weak plot. It's just something I thought I'd post because it's been in my LR Fics folder for a long time now! Probably since last July... yep, looooong time! Anyways, please review, and I'll see y'all around for the C2 update!
Footnote No. 1: Mr. Ennis is a changed name from my Theatre teacher right now. "Mr. Ennis" has a quote on my profile under the "Funny Quotes You Only Hear From Friends and Family" section.
Footnote No. 2: Sophronia is a name that means "judicious," in other words, judgmental but wise. As you already know, none of my OC characters ever have a meaningless name. Helpful, yes? Question for the review box: Did Sophronia's name fit her well, or do you have another suggestion for a name?
(I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors.)