make-up test

Toby stuffed the makeup kit he was using today into his arms, scrolling rapidly through Cecil Lovette's Facebook feed on his phone before switching to his twitter. Cecil Grey Lovette. Cecilcecilcecilcecil. He stumbled out of his dark office, scaring someone in the hallway. He spared them an owl eyed glance and went along his way, hurrying through the building.

Ah. Haha. Cecil was such a fucking faker tryhard. Toby hated him. Hated. Whenever he caught a glimpse of the actor going around the station and getting showered with praise, adjusting himself in little ways to make others gush over him, he wanted to make the man squirm. Cecil was opening himself up to it, wasn't he? By being in such a spotlight, and advertised as such a special, special person. Must want to be touched in all sorts of ways. Toby liked to think about that.

Despite his inner mania, he was as outwardly subdued as ever when in broad daylight or at work. He did enough to have a reputation here, but not to make anyone run screaming. He just received cringes, and some avoiding of eye contact or conversation. Suited him fine. He didn't need anyone looking at his ugly human face too much, oh no, he could do far better.

Toby scurried outside, shrinking under the hostile summer sun, and practically running through the courtyard. A lot of people were on their break, eating lunch and enjoying the nice weather. He would've had a great time stopping to make them uncomfortable, especially since some were already looking startled from seeing him out here, but he had shit to do. Actual work. So he just ran through, and made a beeline for the lot where the trailers were. Hello, spoiled stardom.

Toby knocked, with a specific, pleasing rhythm, on Cecil Lovette's trailer door. He slipped his phone back in his pocket, hugged his kit to his chest, and waited there with a blank expression. Murky, unpleasant feelings swirled in his stomach, and the obsession creeping under his skin made the anticipation for this meeting more than strong.

Oh. What was Cecil doing, trying to play this game with him? Was his ego so sensitive that he needed even the office creep to adore him? Toby's eyes moved from side to side, just to check if anyone else had snuck up, and they were being addressed rather than him. Then, he looked back to Cecil, something dry and judgmental sinking into his usual gloom, a slight sneer.

"Let's keep this professional, Mr. Lovette. You're a little much, don't you think. I'm here to do your makeup, not suck you off, as far as I was told. Or maybe we got different memos? I would've appreciated a warning. Anyway. Save your energy for the squealing fans, or someone more your type." That was mild for Toby, but could be taken as pretty harsh and inappropriate, so he was very curious as to how Cecil would react. Toby wanted to figure out his comfort levels, so he could either break them or find amusement in what did or didn't rub this star the wrong way.

He made a hand motion. "Tone it down. Dim the brightness on that practiced celebrity smile. I'll be able to work best if you stay mellow and just let me get to it. Christ, this isn't a tea party, and I know we aren't equals." He squeezed around Cecil and into his trailer, immediately setting down and opening up his makeup- which looked messily, bizarrely organized to anyone other than him.

His interest bubbled excitedly after his show of hostility and dismissiveness, peeking over his shoulder to stare at Cecil. He could get in so much trouble for this if Lovette were to throw a fuss, but he really couldn't help but poke, and the man must've heard the warnings already.

Cecil flickered like a dying, broken lightbulb, and Toby's lips quirked into a smile. That answered his curiosity on comfort levels pretty quick. The man bounced back, but Toby was hardly going to forget that first, instinctual response he'd given.

Once Cecil sat down, Toby leaned on the vanity, starting on the basic parts of the makeup. Really, it was all on the tame side, because they wanted dear Lovette to still look nice and fuckable. Maybe something about not playing too directly into unpleasant stereotypes about the undead. Politically correct garbage screwing with a good fucking monster, in his book. If you have the opportunity, grotesque was preferable. He wouldn't mind seeing Cecil in some more risque scenes with a look like that, rather than this.

Despite his train of irritable, jumbled thought, Toby was completely silent and focused in on his art. He took it seriously, and even when he didn't agree with the themes, he was going to make it shine.

"You like being friendly, don't you, Cecil?" He switched from his cold Mr. Lovette to Cecil fluidly, without acting as though anything had happened. "Very, very friendly. Why?" It was a strange question, not worded quite like the usual, or in the right context at all.

Toby stopped after applying some eye makeup to Cecil, tilting his head far too much to the side, like an owl. He lightly cupped the celebrity's chin, tipping his face up. "Strong reaction. That a sore point? And here I thought you were so blatant in it all. Of course you're being paid for it, but it's more than that. Something about… you. It's obscene. Why don't you calm down? I'm not gonna do anything. I just like to look, and you happen to put on a show. You can't complain when you get exactly what you want."

He wanted to giggle, and bit his lip. He was amused by the power being thrown around. He hadn't been sure Lovette had real teeth, but then, you had to when you were that high in the media foodchain. It didn't do much for Toby in terms of danger, of course, but… it interested him. He knew Cecil was a demon. He could be a monster.

This was a good start, in Toby's humble opinion. He wondered if Cecil wanted to push him down for his behavior, hurt, berate. It wouldn't do to let someone of his pathetic status get away with any superiority or familiarity, right? Haha. Right, right, right. It would be charming, and ugly, to see Cecil go further with this. Oh, he loved that, fuck. Men in power getting aggressive with underlings and feeling smug about themselves was a beautiful thing. It didn't matter that Toby had started the antagonism, how Cecil returned the favor was... yes. God yes. Disgusting.

His eyes fluttered half shut. "…Oh, will I now? Are you that 'wrong guy', Cecil? Believe me, I'm watching."

Toby observed Cecil as he chewed him out, gaze steady. His attention to this slowly started to dwindle away. He blinked lazily. Oh, this was awful alright, and he was keeping the memory for later inspection, but it was a little… typical. Hum.

"Mhm. Y'know, with their groveling, you'd think they'd choose less idiotic plotlines that'll take away from your image, and yet... Evil twin, really? I could write something better while half asleep. Hell, I'm sure even you could manage it, pretty boy." He huffed a laugh.

Toby finished applying some extra zombie details, like scars and the lightest bit of- still allowing for attractiveness- gore. He tapped Cecil's nose. "Very spooky, drama queen. I might just faint," he said, mildly, in regards to the outburst. Would he be fired, run out of town? Well, he guessed he'd have to wait and find out. Was almost certain it would happen with one of his actual stunts, but perhaps not! He'd eaten human flesh, for fuck's sake-- the thought of getting in such big trouble for bullying a celebrity was hilarious. That was how the world in general functioned, of course. There were clear priorities. Delightful.

"You can take me to court later, if you want. Never been, past on sets for law shows- and they make it far more exciting than it is in real life, I imagine. For the time being, though, your makeup's done. Would've liked to do more, but you're easier to market when you look cute or whatever. Before I pack up my stuff again, this work for you, anything too uncomfortable feeling?" Toby peered at him closely. Not bad.