Page 5 of Holly Jolly July

dishes, changing diapers, and fetching

coffee is all included.

JENNA

You are the best sister ever. Fair

warning, though. The guy who runs the

place is a bit of a grump. Just get

the coffee and leave, okay? I get

weird vibes in there, but the coffee

is amazing.

Chapter 2

Mariah

This is going to be averylong two weeks.

Despite knowing my way around this city as if I’d never left it, the commute from Vancouver to the Fraser Valley can be unpredictable and I ended up getting caught in traffic, arriving fifteen minutes late—not the first impression I wanted to make. As a result, I’m neither set up nor prepared for my day ahead. Luckily today is a short day since I only have one person to get ready.

My head hurts and I wince as I straighten too quickly after grabbing several shades of blush from my bag. With the giant windows in this place it’s already so bright, but compounded by the vanity lights framing the mirror it’s enough to make my headache go from slight pressure to painful throb.

The noise isn’t helping, either. Not just the crowd behind me, but the incessant chatter of the woman sitting in my chair. You’d think someone would take the hint and stop talking after a few minutes, but not her. What did she say her name was? I forgot it as soon as she’d said it, and there’s no signage on this table to clue me in otherwise.

“...andlastyear’s Christmas movie we had this hilarious costume problem—my clothes were all too small! My shirt was so tight it nearly took the movie from G-rated to PG-13, if you know what I mean...”

I should have remembered to pack my earplugs.

After sanitizing my hands, I squirt some primer onto my fingertips and begin spreading it over her face, which doesn’t slow her motormouth. She has good skin, evidently using a decent moisturizer, which makes my job easier. The light fawn of her skin is speckled with freckles over her nose, which has a proudbump to it, giving her a regal look. There is a small mole just below her left eye, adding a bit of character. Round eyes, light brown, innocent-looking. I’ll use my bronze Deja Vu through the centre of her lids, highlight the edges with Frosting, make that goldish tone in her eyes pop. Her sandy-blond hair falls in unruly curls, which I’m not sure if they want me to accentuate or straighten. I’ll have to ask Jimmie.

After priming I bend back down to find my brushes, pushing past my piles of costume makeup I probably should have left at home rather than lugging it all around with me. It’s not like I’ll get a chance to use it while I’m here, besides possibly entertaining my measly five hundred TikTok followers.

Finding my brush sets, I place them on the dresser in front of us and begin applying foundation. My colour match is spot-on. Without having to be prompted, she lifts her chin and lets me blend from her rounded jawline down her long neck. Afterward, I move on to the blush, highlighting and lowlighting her cheekbones.

“I’ve never really been out this way before. I hear there’s some great hiking. It’s a tight schedule, but most of my scenes are near the end, so I’ll have a few days to go out and explore. Maybe I’ll go see that waterfall I saved on Pinterest years ago...”

I don’t interrupt to tell her that she’s looking for Bridal Falls, and it’s a twenty-minute drive east—wouldn’t want to encourage her. She’d force me to talk more, which will makehertalk more, and nobody wants that. She might even want me to give her pointers on cool stuff to do nearby or show her around. The last thing I want to do is be someone’s tour guide, especially someone as obnoxious as her.

Nope. As soon as this job is over, I’m beating it back to Vancouver—where I belong.

I left Chilliwack behind six years ago and never looked back. From that first year in cosmetology, with its unbelievable highs and devastating lows, to my first job backstage at drag shows, to assisting weddings, to my freelance work with familyphotographers, I’ve slowly found a small place in the world for myself. I’m not where I want to be yet, putting my costume makeup skills to good use. Even though I’m here, working on a movie set like I’ve always dreamed of, I’m still doing the same boring crap I’ve done for work every day. And it’s sucking the life out of me.

When I applied for this job I thought this would be a step up, furthering my goals, my dreams, my ambitions, but so far it seems lateral at best.

Maybe even a step back.

I mean, it’s a Christmas movie for fuck’s sake. It’s the exact opposite of what I wanted to do with my life. Surely at some point, if I ever get my resume looked at by someone wanting to make a movie withactualmakeup, they’ll take one look atCHRISTMAS ON THUNDERBIRD LANE, have a hearty laugh, and throw it in the dumpster.

Well, click Delete, and move on to the next.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. And the pay is decent. But is it enough to put up with all of this?

I eye the woman blathering on in front of me.

---