Hunted

Chapter 25- Trying to stick to the plan.

I woke up to the sound of many voices invading our private space, all instincts suddenly alert, all muscles tense and ready for action, my cheek so damn sore for some reason, sitting up straight in bed just moments before a knock on the door.

"Sweetie?" That was Nick, using a word that he'd never used before, his voice a little fake. A little strange. Not the geninue Nick I was knowing at all. "Liz? The crew's here."

I got up and showered, staring at the bruises, attempting to figure out how to explain that. Did what they asked, as they shouted orders through the bathroom door, something about shaving and washing hair... five minutes in and I already wanted to snarl at them.

When I came out for hte 'makeup' they stared at the bruises on me, the bruse on my face in particular, then the interviewer's eyes went to Nick. Accusing. Oh boy, this wasn't good. Melissa was there, and she took one look at me and scowled. Apparently Nick hadn't warned her about this. The scowl was gone in a flash though, back to the pleasent professional side of her. 

I shook my head, trying to smile. "We went out last night to celebrate for New Years. Drunken brawl, I was beside it, wham. Sobered me up pretty fast."

"We're considering pressing charges. Please, don't mention it, as it may become a legal case." Melissa spoke up, voice so smooth, so to the point, as if she wasn't shocked at all. "I hope this isn't a problem."

"Shocking. No, no, I can cover it." The woman who I assumed was the stylist was staring at it as if she was forming a battle plan, not getting ready to put on make-up.

"We were going to interview you first but maybe you'd like to get the photos out of the way." That was someone else, an older woman, putting a small video camera aside. "I'm Nadine, I'll ask questions. This is-" And she rattled off names, pointing at the six strangers, each name vanishing from my head as fast as it'd gone in. Two stylists, two camera people, Nadine and her trainee assistant who was busy trying to pour coffee from everyone.

"That would work." Melissa answered for us, making it clear that she was running this, not the interviewer. Her eyes moved across the stylists, giving them to order to start without saying a word, making one of them flinch.

"Right. Okay. Jess, wheel the pink case over, I think the smaller one's not going to do. we'll get started at the table."

Wheel that case? As I was herded towards the little table, Nick close behind, I glanced back to see a suitcase being wheeled behind us. Was that the clothing?

It was makeup. A ton of it, so much that they needed a large pink case with wheels, and some kind of fold out mirror complete with lights that they got working with a flip of a switch. I was sat down, one of the women sitting down with me, and they went to work. 

It wasn't that much fun. I was relieved when they'd finished, sighing, face a little stiff. One look in the mirror made me inhale and realise exactly why women got obsessive with this stuff. I looked fantastic. No bruise, no dark shadows, my usually dark red-blonde hair all glossy and golden in the sunlight, done so that it fell in loose controlled curls instead of just falling wherever. Some kind of cream colored dress to go with it. I didn't reconize myself.

"My turn?" Nick moved closer, eyes fixed on me, like he couldn't quite believe it himself.

"You-" Both women turned to look at him. Sure, they may have seen him before, but they didn't hesitate to drink in the sight of him again for a good thirty seconds. He was dressed perfectly, probably in some fashionable thing, hair in his own dark loose curls, skin perfect, his arms lean and fit. I had to join them in the gawking because no matter how many times I saw him, it was apparently never enough. He was beautiful.