Johanna Ann Keats's Story

"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.

"You'll want to only take the two steps forward. The camera will swing around here and then Leon and Ryan will follow. Only cross the threshold, don't step onto the sidewalk, understand?"

Johanna nodded as the assistant director, Maria, walked her through her small part of the scene that was currently bustling with activity. She was rewarded for her mute understanding with a coffee cup being pushed into her hand by a boy that could not have been older than seventeen.

"If that spills, all the better," Maria added, pointing at the cup.

"Is it actual coffee?" Johanna asked as she eyed the closed drink curiously.

"No no, tea actually. You can have some while you're waiting. Now, we'll call the set to attention when the rest are ready." And with that, Maria was off to attend other key extras for the scene, leaving Johanna with her cooling tea.

The atmosphere was all very exciting for the brunette as she rested in the doorway of a dressed-up coffee shop. She never would have imagined being on set of an action blockbuster film. It had always been a dream of hers to try acting, however, and Aiden had somehow come through in getting her a featured extra role in this one scene. So far, from chatting with some of the other extras, hair, make-up, and wardrobe, and meeting some of the key crew members, Johanna found herself having a blast. Even the waiting periods between the brief rushes were interesting as she got to watch and learn what all was happening around her.

Her job today was a simple enough one. During the chase scene, as the camera swung past her little corner of the street, she was to take two steps out of the coffee shop with her drink, look at Leon and Ryan, and stumble back away as they ran past. Who would ever stumble away from Leon Dillinger, however, was the question of the day. Johanna caught her smile before it could spread, biting softly at her lower lip and leaning against the doorway.

It wasn't that the man was quickly becoming one of the most eligible bachelors in the Hollywood scene. Nor that Johanna had some late-stage high school crush on the actor. It was simply that he was famous and she didn't run into many like him in her normal life.

He likely won't even notice you. His job is to basically run right past and then return to his trailer she reminded herself for the hundredth time that day. It was her own effort to not get her hopes up high that she would somehow be seen and discovered by people of a far different class than she was.

It was a blaring of an alarm through the set that snapped the young woman back to attention. She jumped slightly, almost upending her prop, and managed to get a hold of herself just in time as she saw the director climb up on top of a truck with a megaphone. It seemed like it was almost go time.