“You can and you will. Stop being so damn nice. This is the exact reason you have your own team who does your makeup and laces your damn shoes. You're Sage LoanaHale.”
I cover my face with my hands. I don’t care if I was the CEO of our company. I can’t walk out on this photo shoot. That’s so mean.
“The other reason you have your own team was to avoid shit like this from happening, but what did they say?” She doesn’t let me reply. “They have an amazing team and would love the privilege to do your makeup.Never again!”
I don’t know why I even called her. I let out a sigh and grabbed Helena’s lipgloss as I put her on speaker.
“They’re not only wasting your time but the fact that they don’t have your shade at all?! Are they using makeup from shitty brands that don’t have shades darker than Caramel andChestnut?”
“Yeah…” The minute I saw the makeup brand, I knew she was wasting her time checking her bag.
Angie is quiet for a while as I play with the lip gloss.
“Get the hell out of there!”
I jump at her sudden outburst, then break into a laugh at how loud she’s being. “Angie, please just let me stay. I can do my own makeup and–”
“Absolutely not. You probably don’t even have it with you. What? You plan on driving home to get– no, you don’tdoyour own makeup, Sage. You’re a Magic Model.”
“I don’t think I’m too good to do my own makeup…” I pull the mirror down as I apply some gloss.
“You are, you’re just too damn humble.” She lets out a sigh.
I think being humble is a great thing, but I don’t respond.
“I already had someone call them. The shoot is over. Since you’re too damn nice, have Helena grab whatever you left in there and come to the studio, we can move up the photo shoot with Cartier. I just texted your team; they'll be waiting for you.” She ended the call by telling me not to stress over this, although her words didn't make me feel better.
I let out a sigh and text Helena, but she’s already making her way out with my purse. I stifle a laugh at the clips still in her hair and the concealer under her eyes. The minute she’s in the car, I turn to her.
“Please don’t tell me you yelled at them.”
“I didn’t.” She shrugs as she grabs the makeup wipes in her bag. “I yelled at their boss.”
Oh, God.I cover my face with my hands.
“Don’t feel bad, Sage. I don’t understand why you don’t see the issue with this.”
“I do, but–”
“But nothing. Our team would’ve never been that unprepared. Don’t feel bad we left, we couldn’t do the pictures either way becausetheydidn’t haveyourmakeup. That’s not your problem, and it’s not your job to bring your own makeup.”
I only nod in response because everything she’s saying is true.
“They would’ve had you looking like a clown in that shade.” She tosses the used makeup wipe out her window as she drives off, and I shake my head at how often she litters, but I don't waste my breath.
I see her glance at me from the corner of my eye, but I keep my gaze ahead of me.
“Okay, what if it was your hair? What if you didn’t have your braids in, and they needed to do your hair, and we had another DC incident.”
I literally cringe at the reminder. We flew to DC last year, and once again, the brand we were filming with wanted to show off theirgreat team, but theyruinedmy hair. I think I cried the entire trip.
“Okay, you proved your point,” I finally relinquish, trying to squish the guilty feeling in my gut.
She thankfully changes the topic and goes on about how excited she is to work with Cartier again because the guy they usually send is hot. He is, and they’re constantly flirting.
Both of our phones light up, and I know it’s probably from the agency. I immediately grab it when I notice it’s our updated meal plans. As models, we, of course, need to keep in shape, but as I read mine, I notice it’s a lot different than my last one. I pick up Helena’s phone, and she also got the same email.
“Can I see what meal plan they sent you?”
