Sarah584742: I’ve got a hot date tonight, so this is perfect!
I glance at my computer screen that’s sitting out of view. My ring light is hitting just right—the halo glow bouncing off mycheekbones and catching the shimmer I applied before going live.
I spent twenty minutes adjusting the angle before I started. I need my videos to be perfect, and the lighting can make or break a tutorial.
My content has been trending on Tokker for four consecutive weeks. Four down, eight to go. If I can keep this momentum rolling, I’ll win the Beauty Trend Setter Award—a shiny metal plaque and a five-thousand-dollar cash prize that Tokker gives to creators who trend twelve weeks in a row.
Five thousand dollars.
Do you know what I could do with five thousand dollars? Pay three months of rent, replace the filming equipment I’ve been duct-taping together since November, and maybe,it’s a big maybe, buy myself a real Louis Vuitton handbag instead of the knockoff I got in Destin that’s already peeling on the handles.
“Okay, first up,” I say, plucking a tube from the basket, “this concealer. Three dollars and seventy-nine cents at Super Mart, and I am telling you, it gives the high-end brands a run for their money.” I dot it under my eyes, blending with my fingertip. “See that? Bye-bye, dark circles. Bye-bye, evidence that I stayed up until two a.m. binge-watching the final season of Stranger Things.”
WyldChyld: You’re so pretty!
GothicGurl: I literally just added that concealer to my cart
Kristy123: Do you have a date for V-Day, June??
My stomach does a little dip, and I almost fumble the concealer tube. I recover fast—years of being on camera have taught me how to mask a flinch with a hair toss.
“A date?” I laugh, waving a hand like the idea is hilarious. “Girl, the only date I have is with Moo,” I point over my shoulder where my fat cat is snoozing in the windowsill. “—and a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.”
The comments erupt with laughing emojis and solidarity.
MakeupMaven007: Men are temporary. Lipstick is forever.
WyldChyld: SINGLE QUEENS UNITE
I point at my camera. “That’s right, girl!” I keep the smile plastered in place, but the truth coils tight behind my ribs.
I don’t do dates.
I don’t do boyfriends.
I don’t want anything to do with men, period.
Men leave.
That’s what they do. They promise you the moon, make you feel safe, call you their little Junebug, and then on a random Tuesday afternoon, you come home from school and they’re gone.
No note. No explanation from your mom, other than it’s your fault. Just gone, like you were never enough of a reason to stay.
I was twelve when my father walked out.
I bite my bottom lip, catching myself, and release it before the camera picks it up.
“Anyway.” I dip my brush into the palette and bring it to my lid, sweeping the shimmery rose gold across the skin. “Let’s talk about this color, becauseoh my gosh, you guys. For six dollars? This pigment is unreal.”
I power through the rest of the tutorial, layering blush and highlighter, and a gorgeous dusty mauve lip that I know will sell out the second I post the link. By the time I’m done, my face looks like I’m ready for a night out with the girls, and the viewer count has climbed past twelve thousand.
“And that, my friends, is a full glam look for under twenty dollars.” I turn my head side to side so the camera catches every angle. “If you try this look, tag me so I can see your gorgeous faces. Don’t forget to hit that follow button and share this with someone who needs it. Love you lots like tater tots!! Bye!” I blow a kiss, flash a peace sign, and end the stream.
The second the red recording light goes dark, I let out a long breath and slouch back in my chair.
Eight more weeks.
I got this.
