Elliot ditched his jock reputation after high school. He happily traded his cleats and shoulder pads for college cafeteria food and seminars notes. Now, without the distraction of football, he has managed to find success at the University of Minneso...
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"Hey everyone," Nicki addressed the camera. "It's Nicki Sherwood."
Wyatt snorted.
Elliot was cringing when he mumbled, "There's so much regret in this room."
"Today we're doing a makeup battle," Nicki continued. "Wyatt will be doing my winter glam and Pierce will be doing an ice-prince-inspired look on Elliot. I'll have a poll on my Instagram, so don't forget to go vote for a winner. I'll link everyone's socials down below...Guys, do you have any experience doing makeup?"
"Sometimes we paint lines under ours eyes before a game," Pierce commented.
"I used to cover my chin acne with my sister's eyeshadow," Wyatt added.
Nicki turned to the camera and said, "So they're professionals. Let's get started."
Nicki's bedroom was arranged like a studio. The big, beady lights stationed behind the camera were aimed at their faces. Affixed to a long pole, a boom mic was positioned overhead, capturing every little underbreath. Elliot didn't like being part of such an artificial production, but he sat without any complaints and began sorting through Nicki's makeup. The contents on the table looked like a Sephora store's upchuck. Dirty brushes, cracked bronzer, leaky concealer - all the old products were in a disorganized heap. Nicki didn't trust the hockey players with her favorite brands.
Pierce looked lost, attempting to peer passed Elliot and watch his teammate. Wyatt hadn't started applying anything to Nicki's face yet, since she was tying back her hair.
"What do I do first?" Pierce whispered, having no guide.
"Foundation is a good start," Elliot answered.
Pierce reshuffled some products, clueless. "Is that the liquid stuff?"
The blue-haired boy nodded, fighting the urge to flee.
Pierce plopped the thick substance onto a puffy brush and pounced it across Elliot's cheeks, chin, and forehead. The movements were timid and unbalanced, gliding along Elliot's skin with floating uncertainty. When a stroke neared his jawline, Pierce reached to secure his pose. He may have wavered when using the makeup, but he showed no hesitation when holding Elliot's face. Pierce's hand framed the underside of his ear, tilting the blue-haired boy just enough to bring the beige color down to his neck. He avoided his moles, though, not wanting to cover them. His hand was chilly, making Elliot's skin pebble. Pierce wondered if the camera would capture the innate response.
