House: Ravenclaw
Position: HoH
Category: Drabble
Prompt: [Word] Skilled
Word Count (excluding header): 711
AN- I highly recommend listening to Unpretty by TLC while reading this story. Lisa is named for Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes, a member of TLC.
"You're a lifesaver," gushed a teenage girl as she primped and preened in the make-up counter mirror. Her face was fixed with full coverage make-up that looked incredibly natural, making her appear fresh-faced and glowing. "I don't know what I'd have done if I had to go back to school another day with my face like that."
Her mother turned to the shopgirl who'd assisted them and explained, "She's a little young for make-up, but I couldn't stand seeing her so miserable day after day. Kids can be so cruel. Some mean girls in Lisa's class bully her, calling her all sorts of nasty names just because she's going through puberty and her face is continuously breaking out."
"Mom!" Lisa whined.
Her mom gave her a knowing smile. "Well, it's true. Every teenager deals with it."
The shopgirl spoke up. "I had the worst spots when I was about your age."
"Is that how you got so good at make-up?" Lisa asked. "You're really skilled at it."
"Yeah," the shopgirl said, "my life was pretty unbearable for a while when my face was constantly a mess. I went from having a perfectly clear face to being covered in horrendously embarrassing spots instantly. My face was like that until I left school."
"Were the other kids just awful about it?" Lisa asked.
The shopgirl shrugged. "Most kids gave me a wide berth after that. I had one friend who tried to stick by me, but it was difficult for her."
"That's terrible. You're such a sweet, helpful girl. I can't imagine why what was on your face should have made a difference," Lisa's mother said.
The shopgirl didn't respond.
"When did you get into make-up?" Lisa asked as she flipped through a palette book of sparkly eyeshadows.
"When my face changed, I realized that it was absolutely necessary for me to cover up if I had any chance of fitting in again. After I graduated, I enrolled in cosmetology school," the shopgirl explained. "They taught me the basics of make-up, coverage, and pigmentation. I studied every beauty magazine and followed the fashion trends over the last fifteen years. I have a Youtube channel where I explore different eras of beauty make-up if you want to follow me."
"No wonder you're so skilled! What's the channel?"
The shopgirl scribbled a note and handed it to the mother.
"Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's magic," she read aloud. "That's cute."
Lisa studied the shopgirl's face for a moment. "When did your face clear up? You've got such a beautiful, natural face now."
The shopgirl sighed. "It's still make-up. I still have a couple of scars from my teenage years that will probably never go away. I've learned how to conceal them."
"You'd never be able to tell. You're so pretty," complimented Lisa.
A look flashed across the shopgirl's face before she managed to school her face into a smile once again. "You're very kind. Now, I've written down all the instructions on how to recreate your look at home. If you have any trouble, come back and see me."
Lisa and her mother happily thanked the shopgirl and scooped up their purchases. Hand in hand, they left the store chatting about the next day at school.
The shopgirl cleaned up the make-up counter and punched out for the evening.
Returning home, she began her nightly routine. She sat in front of her lighted vanity and carefully removed her makeup. First, she soaked a cotton ball with remover and swiped at her eyes, making the layers of subtle eyeshadow and mascara vanish. Next, she wet a cloth and dabbed the gloss from her lips. Using a new cloth, she patted the foundation and powder from her forehead. Holding her breath, she removed the last bits of make-up from her cheeks and chin.
Steeling her nerves, she forced her eyes to meet her reflection in the mirror. The remaining scars from her teenage years mocked her. Although the words had long since faded, she could still see them there in her mind's eye. She had never been able to shake the shame that marked her for so long.
Make-up was great at covering the outside, but Marietta Edgecombe would always feel unpretty on the inside.