The following is a fictional parody, not approved of, nor authorized by, the celebrities named. None of the events are true.
No harm is intended toward the celebrities named.
~~~
Ciara gets pretty for a video shoot.
~~~
I stepped out of the taxi and stared at the large, gray warehouse. Where in the hell was I?
I quickly checked my reflection in the car window. Despite a late night, and an early call time, my toffee-brown skin was still amazingly smooth and clear. I smiled easily. My shoulder-length black hair was pulled into a neat ponytail. I wore a simple black leather jacket with black jeans. My eyes were a bit red from lack of sleep, but dark shades kept my secret for the time being.
The phone call came hella early this morning. Leila, David's assistant, was crisp and curt as she only gave me an address and instructions to be at the shoot at 7am. My old classmate, David Lynn, was the director of Ciara's new music video.
As I looked around, the rest of the street was dark and void of activity, with boarded up buildings standing ominously against the warm light of dawn. Why in the hell was I spending such a beautiful August morning at a dusty warehouse?
Oh yeah, I chuckled. Rent was due.
Once I got my business established, I vowed not to take any more last-minute sessions. One day, appointments only, baby, I mused as I grabbed my makeup case, paid the driver, and made my way to the open warehouse door.
I was pleasantly surprised at all the activity taking place. Usually, the larger the staff, the better the pay.
Several of the crew members were gathered at the front of the warehouse, obviously on a smoke break. I waved as I passed by, carefully avoiding all of the cables and other equipment strewn across the ground.
As I walked inside, I immediately realized how professional this shoot was.
Several cameras were set up against two main areas: To the right, the crew had constructed a huge performance stage with several rows of lights set against a black backdrop. To the left was a giant green screen set up to capture all of the other shots.
Almost behind me, in the corner, I saw several dancers practicing what looked to be a pretty complicated dance sequence. I set my case down and studied their graceful movements for a few moments. I almost got lost in watching their bodies float to the beautiful rhythms when I heard a booming voice behind me.
"Hey Nikii!"
I'd know that deep voice anywhere. I spun around. "David!"
I took a moment to study how great David looked. His sandy brown eyes were strong and clear. His firm jawline settled into a neat goatee, which added a sophisticated flair to his overall look. His warm golden-brown skin glowed with delight. He wore a black pullover that hugged his frame beautifully. The crisply pressed jeans completed his casual look. I hadn't seen him in over a year, but he looked better and more mature every time I saw him.
6 years ago, David set out for NYC with only a handheld camera and $60. He started out assisting various directors, but only a couple years later, he'd turned into a successful video director himself. He'd made it big quickly, directing videos for B2K, Monica and Christina Milian. Today's shoot with Ciara was his biggest coup to date, and I beamed with pride at his success.
I hugged him hard. "What's up, baby!"
"You, sweetie." He stood back and looked at me. "You look great, girl!"
"Thank you very much, Mr. Big-Time Video Director, sir." We giggled. "And thanks for the call. Char said I had a shot at this gig, but she never called me back." I frowned. It normally wasn't like my old boss to leave me hanging for a job like that.
"Oh, I told her I'd let you know personally. Except I got so busy that I had Leila call."
"Oh, ok. And Leila's a doll. But she only called me this morning, and then just gave me an address. I'm kinda nervous about this whole thing..."
"We're trying to keep this shoot a secret," David explained. "The media's been all over Babygirl lately, with the new album coming out soon. We needed this video to make a big splash, so it was best to keep everything under wraps. Most of the crew didn't know where we were shooting until late last night, so don't feel bad."
I nodded. "Well, that explains it." I took another glance around, and relaxed a bit. "Let's get started."
We spoke quickly about the overall look he wanted, and confirmed my fee. Just then, he pulled a walkie-talkie out of his back pocket. "Someone go get Trish and tell her to meet me in front of the stage." He turned back to me. "She's the lead stylist. You'll meet her first. I'm also gonna need you to meet the set director, Kenneth." He paused. "Actually, since you're new to the business, and don't have a lot of clients yet, I'll just introduce you around to everyone. You need as many contacts as you can get."
I smiled. David was a gem.
"Thanks." My nerves were still a bit frazzled, though. I had to ease my fears. I had to know. "So...what is she like?"
He didn't hesitate. "Ciara's an extremely hard worker. One of the hardest. She puts her all into her work. She loves what she does, and it shows. And she's a real sweetheart. And very generous too." He grinned at me. "You're gonna love this one."
Just then, a curvy mocha beauty strolled over. She was about 5'9", clad in a sheer rose-colored blouse with a form-fitting, knee-length black suede skirt that clung to her thick, beautiful hips and legs. Black stiletto boots completed her savvy look. Her chestnut eyes sparkled as she gave me a warm smile. Her sultry hips swayed and rocked as she strode over. I lusted over her round, full breasts as I imagined the mocha-tipped nipples nestled between my slim fingers, and nuzzled by my hot mouth.
David winked at me as he led the introductions. "Nikii Clarke? Meet Trish Connor." As I shook her hand, I noticed that while her grip was firm, her fingers were the softest and the silkiest I'd felt in a while. This was gonna be fun.
She looked at me and quickly took in my look from head to toe. I was only 5'4", but slender and pretty toned. Though I only had a few minutes to get ready this morning, I looked pretty pulled together in a soft gray cashmere sweater with a black patent leather belt, and slim black denim jeans. The luxurious sweater caressed my full cleavage. Her eyes were drawn to it, and I caught her staring. She winked, but at least had the good manners to blush.
Just then, a tall, handsome man appeared and introduced himself as Kenneth, the set director.
The next half-hour was a blur. David, Kenneth, Trish and I carefully went over the various set designs and the makeup look they wanted for each shot.
The main part of the video would feature Ciara in a rough, boyish dance sequence on the performance stage, and would feature the dancers I'd seen earlier. We agreed that she would need a dark look, so I'd make her up using smoky black and brown shades.
The remainder of the video would feature Ciara as a glamorous diva. For these more alluring looks, I would use lush pinks and stunning metallics to make her skin glow. When shooting, the green screen setup would be used to take the various close-up glamour shots that would be interspersed between the dance sequences.
Rough and masculine meets soft and feminine. I was intrigued. And slightly starstruck at the whole thing.
Just then, a light voice rang out with laughter. As I turned, I saw a statuesque frame stride out from the back of the warehouse, surrounded by 3 assistants. The lean beauty, clad in an oversized, white bathrobe, walked straight toward our group and stood directly next to me. "I don't know you," Ciara questioned. David immediately introduced me as the new makeup artist, and quickly ran down my resume.
She nodded, as she shook my hand. "It's nice to meet you, Nikii. Charlene sent you, right?"
Her grip was firm, but her fingers were soft and smooth. I admired the brick-red nail polish that decorated her hands. "Yes she did. And thanks for the opportunity."
"Sure. I love breaking new artists. My regular girl has been sick for a few days, so I'm glad you were available. I'd love --" We were interrupted by the soft chime of a cell phone. She quickly pulled it out of the bathrobe pocket. "Nikii, I can't talk right now, but have Trish bring you over to my trailer shortly and we'll get started." She smiled as she put the instrument to her ear. "Thanks again for coming on such short notice." With a flash, she turned and strode out of the building, assistants in tow.
Finally, David and Kenneth left us to go set up the rest of the camera equipment.
"I'll take you to her in a second," Trish said. "And once she approves everything, you can start working on her first look of the day. But first, I want to consult with you on a few more issues. Please come with me."
I got a bit nervous and felt the butterflies, but I was determined to stay cool. I knew that celebs were regular people. It's just that I've had a crush on Ciara for a minute, and I wanted everything to run smoothly. I really anticipated us finally getting a chance to meet.
I grabbed my makeup case and followed Trish out of the warehouse.
We made our way outside to a trailer at the back of the building. Compared to the trailers right in the next row, this one was about half the size and stark white, with no frills or adornments. I was surprised at how small and nondescript it was. The nearby tour buses were larger and more elaborately decorated than this trailer. Not that I was trying to spend anyone's money, but I'd never thought that a multi-platinum artist would be so modest.
As we entered the tiny space, Trish must have read my confusion. "This is my trailer. We'll go to meet her in a few." Then her voice lowered seductively. "I wanted to talk to you privately first."
We talked for a few minutes generally about the business. She had 8 years in styling celebrities, and she loved every minute of it. We also talked about money and investing, with her sharing a few quick tips about being self-employed in the entertainment industry. I was grateful that she took such an interest in me.
I took another look at Trish. She was extremely gorgeous, and obviously bright and talented. I usually tried to keep my passions under bay while I'm working, but I wasn't sure that was going to happen with such a cutie standing in front of me with that look on her face.
She suddenly reached out and stroked my jet-black hair. A few tendrils had escaped from my ponytail, and I guess she couldn't resist. "You have such pretty hair," she whispered. "Charlene told me all about you. She said you were a talented artist. Very talented..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to stroke my jet black tresses.
I looked at her quizzically. Char was my longtime friend, and former boss at Essence salon. She'd been hooking me up with jobs ever since I went solo as a makeup artist a few months ago. Now Char knew that I loved women; I'd been involved with her off-and on for quite a while. But Trish didn't know about me.
Or did she?
Her directness broke my reverie. "I needed to try you out first. I hear you can really make a girl over."
I guess she had heard about me. Did Char tell her something? She couldn't have. She wouldn't. I mean--
