Why is this so hard? Put me in net with a bunch of 200 lb guys skating hard in my direction, and I’m right at home. But trying to figure out what to say to Paige? I don’t have a fucking clue.
Sure, we had fun tonight, which I totally didn’t expect. She’s as funny as she is gorgeous, which is saying something. And hanging out with her tonight was easy. But I was halfway to drunk, so maybe that had a little something to do with it. And, as I learned last year, alcohol and I do not mix well.
I’m being ridiculous and I know it. It’s not like I’m ever going to ask Paige out. I don’t have time for a girlfriend or a hookup. I can practically hear my dad yelling at me from here. Hockey is the only thing that matters. Hell, even grades take a back seat sometimes. If it’s not getting me a position as a starter on an NHL team, it doesn’t matter. At least that’s my dad’s philosophy.
I type and re-type a text about twenty times before I give up and just call. Maybe I’m old school, but tone is so hard to convey over text. I mean, I could typeWhere are you?But then I’d look like a stalker.
The call goes to voicemail after five rings and I’m too chickenshit to leave a message.
Paige
“So, the trick here, friends, is to extend the line out and up.” My right hand is steady as I look into the camera, almost using it as a mirror to apply a flawless cat eyeliner. “So now, all you need to do is draw out that top line to meet the bottom one. See how that makes a tiny triangle? That’s exactly what you want. We’re just going to fill in that space a—”
“Hey, bitch! You dressed?” The cheerful sound of my roommate’s voice has me turning my head and—yep—drawing an inky black line all the way to my temple.
“Dammit, Emma!”
“Shit. Sorry. We’re grabbing lunch at the Biscuit and then Lily’s taking us for a Target run. She’s still a freaking mess over Jordy, so I told her my life would be incomplete without more of those sticky hook things. She needs to put actual clothes on and socialize, and I need to shop. It all works out. And, not to be mean, but you should fix your eyeliner before we go. You look a little unhinged, babe.”
I roll my eyes in response. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that, Em. What time are we leaving? I’m gonna need at least an hour to fix this,” I say, pointing to my left eye, “re-film, and edit. Besides, you’re not even wearing clothes!”
She’s standing in a bra and thong in my studio, which, okay, is just my closet, but still.
“Pretty, right?” she coos, doing a little twirl to show off the lacy blue lingerie.
“So pretty,” I say, wiping at the errant eyeliner on my face with a damp cloth. “But shouldn’t you wear a little clothing? I mean, I know it’s technically still bathing suit season, but I think you’re stretching that definition a bit.”
It’s Emma’s turn to roll her eyes. “Of course. That’s why I’m here. Can I borrow that black halter top? And do you still have Lillian’s flowery babydoll dress?”
Nodding, I rustle around in my closet/studio and spot the dress hidden amidst a pile of boots. It must’ve fallen off the hanger. The top will be a tougher find. Over half my closet is black… “Hmmm. Wait! I think I hung it up…” I rifle through some cardis and blouses and yes! Victory. I hand it over like the trophy it is. “Here you go, gorgeous.”
“Thanks, Paige! Meet you back here in an hour?”
“Perfect. I still need to figure out what I’m wearing.” She nods sagely, sympathizing with such a weighty decision.
Really, it’s no chore. I pull on a pink sundress, slip my feet into slides, and get right back to filming.
After I’ve finished my eyes without any interruptions, I pull back from the camera a bit and smile, pleased with the outcome. “How easy was that, loves? Three minutes, a little patience, and look! A perfect cat-eye. Gorgeous.” I nod approval to my viewers and throw in my trademark wink.
A quick glance at the timer on my phone tells me to wrap it up. “All right, Pretties, I’m signing off. Be good to each other and be good to yourselves!” I blow a kiss into the frame just before I stop filming.
Leaning back in my fluffy desk chair, I play the video back a few times to add in graphics and text. This part takes time, but I’ve learned over my years of vlogging that it’s important. These splashes of color, the graphics that fit my brand, and my quirky sayings help separate my videos from random make-up posts on Youtube.
And don’t get me wrong, I’m not throwing shade. A couple of years ago, that was me: up late at night, bored out of my mind, and putting my face on for the masses of Youtube to watch. But I like to think I’ve learned a few things since those early days. Like, for example, bronzer should be applied with a gentle hand.
I cringe when someone reposts an old video of mine, but I try to remind myself that it’s all a learning process, right? So maybe I went a little heavy-handed on the contouring in 2018. I mean, really, who didn’t?
I add a few touches before I feel like I’m ready to post. I love my followers, all 1 freaking million of them, and I want to give them my very best. My phone buzzes again, but this time, it’s Emma, asking for my silver hoops. Immediately after, I get a text from Lily, asking if I’ll do her eye makeup before we leave. Of course I say yes. I live for this stuff.
Another buzz on my phone makes me think someone else needs their hair or makeup done, but no such luck. It’s my mom. And I love my mom, but...it’s fair to say we don’t see eye-to-eye on many things. But, she’s my mother, so I pick up.
“Hey, Mom. I’m heading out with my roommates soon. What’s up?” I’ve learned the hard way that I always need to establish my out at the beginning of the conversation.
“Hi, darling. I won’t keep you. We’re meeting Nathan and Megan for dinner tonight, so I want to wrap things up at the office, too. You know your brother was just promoted, of course.”
I didn’t know this. “That’s great—I’ll text him.”
“And Sophie is busy as ever. How she and David manage to spend time together is beyond me. But, of course, climbing the career ladder at one of the state’s premier medical centers isn’t easy.”
