You look *fabulous!*

[TheTalent]

Hair stylists and makeup artists have an a bit of an unfair reputation as being gay. Granted many of them are, but not all of them. It was a problem that plagued Ethan Douglas due to his chosen profession. There was nothing wrong with being gay of court, except that Ethan wasn't.

It was partially his fault that so many people assumed he was gay. He kept his hair short and always styled with gel, sported designer stubble, always wore silky dress shirts paired with satin vests, and spoke using phrases like "fierce!" and "so fab!" But he looked and spoke that way because it was what his clients expected; clients that included some of the biggest names in Hollywood. Actors, models, singers all came to have Ethan give them one of his signature makeovers before a concert or photo shoot.

Being hair & makeup stylist to such A-list clientele certainly did wonders for Ethan's bank account but his romantic life suffered for it. He could never seem to catch a woman's interest because, being as well known as he was for what he did, everyone just assumed he was homosexual. He'd been hit on plenty of times by some of his gay clients but they eventually got the message that Ethan just wasn't interested in them. He'd tried flirting with some of the ladies who came to his salon but he didn't have any luck there either. At one point Ethan considered that maybe he should just try "turning gay" but the thought just didn't appeal to him and he quickly disregarded it.

It was a Thursday afternoon as Ethan was just lounging around his salon, reading a magazine. He'd just finished touching up a couple of models on their way to a calendar session. He bell above the door chimed as he heard the soft click-clacking of high heeled shoes on the linoleum floor. He checked his watch, wondering who was showing up now, as he didn't have any appointments for about another hour. He spun around in his chair to see who had decided to grace his establishment.

(OOC: Private message me if you'd like to join.)

 

[Lady_Gamer]

"You can't just walk in to the salon of Ethan Douglas," a woman spoke in a snotty tone that indicated the fact was common knowledge.

Sapphire eyes were cast in the speaking woman's direction. The observer suspected that the no-name actress might be correct - she certainly had more experience working in the business. Elliot was just an Indy writer/producer/actress, not even from the state of California...what the hell would she know? She gave her companion a small smile. "Is there any harm in asking?"

"Yes. You're going to look like an idiot."

Elliot shrugged. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

The other woman gave an exaggerated sigh. "You're not famous, Elliot. You realize that, right?"

"You keep reminding me, how could I forget?" The tone wasn't entirely too concerned.

"My point is... Ethan isn't going to be impressed with your fucking internet fame. If he does recognize you, he'll only have all the more reason to laugh and dismiss you from his presence."

"That sounds brutal. I hope he doesn't also insult my outfit...that may hurt my feelings."

"I'm serious!"

"So am I, Melissa. I think you're freaking out over nothing. If he agrees to do a last minute job - awesome! If not? Well, at least we tried. You're making him sound like an asshole and you've probably never even met the guy."

Melissa crossed her arms over her chest. "You are such a hillbilly. You have no idea how things work around here."

The only response to this was a genuine laugh.

"Fine," Melissa continued. "Do whatever the hell you want - I won't stop you. But I'm not coming along for this embarrassment."

Elliot looked somewhat surprised, but she didn't argue. "Uh...okay. I guess I'll see you at the set?"

Melissa rolled her eyes and gave a dismissive gesture as she turned to leave. It was almost like answering a perfectly reasonable question.

Elliot was beginning to doubt her decision to come here. Working in her hometown certainly had it's disadvantages - recruiting actors/actresses and crew was a bitch (in fact, most involved had to do multiple jobs just to keep things rolling), but...well? After this project was concluded, she wasn't so convinced she wouldn't go back to it. She just felt so alien here.

The woman glanced down the street. Ethan's salon was visible from where she stood - she and Melissa had been on foot doing a bit of informal touring. Just a couple hours before they were scheduled to shoot, Elliot received a call from their on set make-up artist. She wasn't going to be able to make it in for whatever reason...and here was Elliot, wandering around away from the studio, not even sure how to get back. Melissa's only contribution to the dilemma had been, "Too bad you don't have a real make-up artist. Like Ethan Douglas." His salon was close enough for her to gesture towards it.

In the present, Elliot didn't give herself time to over think the situation. Instead, she simply let her feet carry her towards what Melissa had warned would be a horrible experience.

As she stepped over the threshold of the entrance, the woman's eyes settled on the form of a man. He, and his chair, turned to face her - within less than a moment, Elliot was smitten. She had always had a thing for gorgeous men. "Hey," she started with a friendly smile. A couple more steps accentuated by the sound of her heels. "...Ethan?"

It was almost as if Melissa was in her head. Way to show that you have no idea who Ethan Douglas is.

As she awaited his reply, she didn't appear anxious about her lack of knowledge. So far as Elliot was concerned, people were people; some were assholes, some weren't. She'd hate to have Melissa's jaded view on the humanity of Hollywood. Surely, not everyone would cast Elliot aside because she was a nobody that knew no one?

Elliot would only be recognized by those who watched her webseries or patch notes vlog (patch notes being related to online gaming...in case we lost anyone there). Needless to say, she belonged to the nerdcore niche of the interwebs. She stood 5'8" and had a curvaceous body type - D cup breast strained against the material of black t-shirt emblazoned with a golden Hylian Crest. The simple cotton garment clung to her curves possessively as it trailed down to meet her pleated light grey skirt, which rested upon the widening of her hips. The sound of heels, it seemed, belonged to a pair of tall leather boots - they reached to just beneath her knees. The ensemble was completed with thigh-high white stockings. Honey blonde hair poured over her shoulders, reaching just beneath her breasts. It had a loose curl to it and appeared to be wonderfully cared for.