Author: Chartwilight
Title: Illusions
Rated: M
Pairing: Edward and Bella
Word count: 2405
Picture prompt #5
Summary: What happens when makeup/special effects artist Edward works with actress Bella Swan on a new film? Well, you’re about to find out. AH/OCC
Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are property of Stephenie Meyer. This story is in no way an attempt at copyright infringement. This story and all plot lines therein are the property of chartwilightmom ©2011.
CTM A/N: Thanks to MarchHare5 for beta’ing and Elvirina for pre-reading. I’m a huge fan of Halloween, seriously you should see my house, it’s like orange and black threw up all over the place. My kids ask me all the time ‘why so much mom?’ I just roll my eyes of course. Onesweetbell asked me to join in on this and I just couldn’t resist. Hope you enjoy!
“Morning, boss.”
“Riley, I’ve told you to call me Edward,” I remind him, settling into the passenger seat of the van.
He laughs nervously. He is still nervous even after six months of working for me as my assistant. “Sure thing, bo… Edward.”
Riley is a good guy, and I can see why he would be nervous. Without meaning to, I have developed a reputation as being “difficult” to work for in the film industry. But I demand perfection and delivery of my ideas, and in the past most of my assistants haven’t been able to handle my requirements.
But Riley has done the best job out of all of my assistants, hence the reason he still is under my employment this long. Now that I have someone qualified and able to perform the tasks I give him or her, I have gone out of my way to make sure he is more comfortable around me.
As a makeup and special effects artist, it is my job to create, to help change and alter the appearance of a person into the character that they are turning themselves into. The illusion I create with makeup and paint is key in giving the audience the best possible escape into the world on the screen.
When I first started in this business as an assistant myself, I was put on sets to enhance the beauty of the actors and actresses, but as I learned more, I found that I held a fascination with going in the opposite direction.
But to me, making monsters isn’t creating something ugly; it is art, my own brand of beauty. I have always heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and this is never so true to me as when I look at a creation of mine.
There is something about creating a monster, something that is not of our normal world. Different colors, bumps and edges, textures; everything coming together to elicit an emotion. The face and body of the actor has given me a canvas on which to create such beauty.
So what happens when one of the most beautiful actresses in Hollywood is my next canvas? Well, I guess I am about to find out.
Fall to Pieces is the latest film in development by Whitlock Productions, and I am hired not only to be the head makeup artist and special effects, but also to work with my longtime friend, Jasper Whitlock, the director of the film, in developing the right look for the main character.
Working with Jasper has been a long-term goal of mine, but it hasn’t happened since our schedules and projects never landed on the same path until now.
And in working with Jasper comes working with his creative partner, Alice, his wife. Alice is one of the best costume designers in all of Hollywood. All of us are working closely together on this project. Over the past month the three of us have spent countless hours on the creative process.
Before I know it, we are parking in front of Whitlock Productions, shooting the lead female role in full makeup for press and media.
This, of course, being none other than Isabella Swan, or Bella as she has told me to call her. We have met a few times during pre-production and the short makeup tests, not having had any real time to get to know each other, but just enough to become comfortable with the amount of time we will be spending together on set with her in my makeup chair.
And I might or might not have a slight crush on her.
Riley and I unload and make our way into the building. After being led by a production assistant towards the back, we find ourselves in a medium-size room, a standard makeup/dressing room setup.
“Happy Halloween!”
I turn to see where the cheerful sentiment is coming from, only to find Alice with Bella at her side, standing in the open doorway, the pair of them looking like cats that ate not only the canary, but also the whole aviary.
“Don’t remind me,” I tell them.
“What’s wrong, Edward? You don’t like Halloween?”
“I don’t care for the commercialism of it all,” I respond. “Give me things that go bump in the night anytime.” My eyes fail me as I say this, staring directly at Bella.
Yeah, I might have meant that more than one way.
Bella Swan is truly one of the most beautiful women in Hollywood. She doesn’t know it, or at least doesn’t acknowledge it to anyone.
I can’t help but flirt with her.
“Bump, bump bump,” Bella says, giggling.
Alice rolls her eyes and jumps right into another topic. “How long do you need to get ready?”
“Less than an hour.”
The girls leave Riley and me to unpack and set up everything we need to transform Bella from her natural state of beauty to the beauty of a monster.
We prepare for all the stages that we will put Bella through, giving her a transition from start to finish of the movie. The last thing I do is set up my iPod dock, place my iPod in it, and hit shuffle.
Alice returns with five copies of Bella’s wardrobe, fake blood applied on each, increasing in coverage on each piece. “I’ve taken pictures of each set, so we can duplicate them if needed during shooting.”
“Okay. How many sets do you have total?”
Alice and I continue to talk about the wardrobe as Bella returns, wearing a worn looking button-down shirt and a pair of yoga pants with flip-flops.
She looks relaxed, not at all like some of the talent I have had to work with in the past.
“Ready?” I ask her, smiling and blushing under the intensity of her stare.
“Very,” she replies. There is a twinkle in her eye as she says this, looking at me like I am something to eat.
Once I have her in my makeup chair, I start to work. Beyond our flirting, we fall into a comfortable conversation, flowing from one topic to the next. I find that we have similar taste in music as well as a love for reading.
In other encounters with Bella, she has always seemed friendly and welcoming towards me. But something seems different with her today. The way that she is flirting with me seems stronger, much more directed than random. I begin to wonder if she really likes me.
“I prefer E. E. Cummings, something very erotic about his use of words,” she says, explaining her preference for poetry.
“I’ve never been a fan of poetry,” I admit, grinning at the thought of Bella reading anything erotic. “A good mystery novel can be very erotic.”
I glance up to find her staring at me as I continue to apply the scars on her torso. She blinks a few times, then blushes the most luscious color of pink. Oh, if I could duplicate that color, so warm. The color just makes me want to touch her face.
We get through the first four stages of her transformation, stopping and spending an hour or so with the photographer for each one.
As I prepare to start the last phase, the one in which she goes from being a rather normal-looking woman to the monster, I stop and stare at her as she talks to Alice, popping some pieces of a sandwich in her mouth.
As I watch her open her mouth, waiting for each bite, I find myself wishing I could taste her, her plump lips, with gentle kisses, my tongue exploring and drawing pleasure from her.
It occurs to me that my crush isn’t a maybe anymore, it is very much a yes, and I realize that I am fucked.
Shaking the thoughts from my head of asking Bella out, I get back to work.
An hour later, Bella is ready.
She is wearing a sweater soaked in blood along the bottom of her stomach and wrists. Her black jeans have some blood on the front with the button undone and the zipper partway down. It kills me to see the spot of blood on the white cotton panties.
Four parts of the sweater below her breast have been randomly cut out like pieces of a puzzle, leaving blood red, tissue-looking wounds. When I had placed the special effects to give the empty puzzle pieces that gore needed for film, I found my hands not wanting to leave her warm body.
She has two protruding stakes, one on her left wrist, the other on the left side of her ribs; together they cross each other. We developed these rubber insertions, painted just right to make them look like they are the heavy metal that they should be.
Her face looks like someone decided to perform amateur surgery on her. She has these hand-stitched scars along the bridge of her nose and along the side of her face, like she is some kind of doll.
I know all this is fake; I helped apply it, for God’s sake.
But seeing her like this, like she is in pain—it hurts me. She is unlike anything I have ever created before, unique.
She stands and looks herself over in the full-length mirror, her eyes glossing over with wetness.
“Perfect,” I whisper, watching her become emotional over her transformation. I can’t help but feel accomplished; of all my work this creation is the one I feel the most proud.
Her eyes find mine in the mirror, and her mouth falls open as if she wants to speak.
My feelings are all over the place. I want to hold her, tell her that her pain isn’t real, that it is all part of the illusion we are trying to create. I want to stand in front of her, protect her from those that have hurt her and given her the scars and soaked her in blood. Then there is a part of me that wants to get to know her better, to take her on a date and let myself fall.
She would be easy to fall for; that I am sure of.
Before I can process these feelings, she is off to the photographer. I follow, leaving Riley to clean up our gear and start to pack the truck. After Bella gets done, I just have to help her remove everything, and take off all the makeup.
She is calm during the photos and you can sense that she is folding herself into the character, allowing all her emotions to flow, wielding her craft. They have her against a wooden fence; her head hangs, and she doesn’t look defeated, but instead in acceptance of her life.
The day is over, and all photos have been taken of Bella in the different stages of her character in the film. She looks tired when she follows me back to my room, time ticking away before she can go home.
She is quiet when she gets into the chair, and I assume that she is reflecting on her character. Her eyes close, and I just allow the music in the background to be the only noise in the room.
Riley has almost all the gear and has taken the largest load back to the van, leaving just Bella and myself.
Swiping her arms, she seems to melt into the chair further. The makeup comes off easier than I expect, and I am happy to see that her skin has taken the full makeup without a reaction.
I move to her body, the six inches of her smooth stomach that is covered in fake blood and specifically placed cuts and scars. I use a larger cloth this time, using the flatness of my hand to rub and remove.
“You probably should take a shower soon; this paint is everywhere,” I say as I run my fingers along her stomach, watching as she shivers. “And there might be some residue left.”
“Okay,” she breaths, keeping her eyes closed.
Once I have as much of the paint off as possible, I move to her neck.
“I’ve always been a big fan of yours,” she says out of the blue, breaking her silence.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m a big fan of yours, too,” I admit.
“I thought you said you never saw any of my movies?”
Taking a moment, I continue to remove the makeup, moving to her face. “I lied.”
Her eyes pop open, her eyes showing a mixture of sadness and relief. “Is there anything else that you have lied to me about?”
“Are you calling me out?”
“I just don’t want to be lied to, especially by you,” she quietly says.
“What would you say if I asked you out, hypothetically?”
“Hypothetically, I would say yes, that I’ve wanted you to ask me out from the first moment I met you.”
Smiling and probably blushing a little, I continue to work at removing the makeup.
“I don’t want to lie to you; I would never want to hurt you. I like you too much. Maybe more than I should.”
“I like you, too,” she sweetly says.
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
I lean over her, moving the soft cloth along her face, pressing her head into the headrest of the chair, remaining gentle with each swipe. “Is this real, that we like each other?”
She giggles, creating the sweetest sound, one I want to hear again. “I think we are breaking any misconceptions that there isn’t something going on between us.”
Staring at her, she looks happy, even with some of the scars on her face, an illusion of my own creation.
I lick my own lips, looking at her eyes then to her mouth. Slowly, I lower my head, my lips gently meeting hers. She is immediately responsive to my forwardness, opening her mouth, her tongue seeking mine, tender and needy at the same time.
To finally taste her is no longer a wonder for me; I feel the softness of her, the warmth of her breath. The kiss feels like it lasts forever, when actually it only goes on for just a moment, and in the blink of an eye I am pulling back and looking at her.
“Bella, would you like to go get some dinner?”
“Yeah, I really would,” she responds, smiling.
No illusions now, just reality.
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