by Rae Earl
“Millie! What on earth is the matter?!” she shouts. “And why do you look about thirty-five? I’m so sorry I’m late, I was just getting this!”
“Oh, Mum!” I say, and now it’s my time to get upset. I do not need any micellar water today. My tears wash off lots of Erin’s brilliant work.
Mum is understanding at first, but then she does that parent thing where she suggests you should stop doing anything that might remotely upset you and that you should do something dull instead.
“I was worried this would happen, Millie. I knew it might be too much for you. It’s not healthy to gauge your life success by how many random people are watching. Anyway, let me have a look at it.”
I get my phone out and let Mum watch the vlog. I watch her face. She doesn’t smile half as much as she normally does and occasionally she makes a tiny grimace that she tries to hide.
She draws a sharp intake of breath and gives the phone back to me.
“A couple of things, darling,” she whispers gently. “For a start, you’re not acting like you. You seem manic and a bit uncomfortable.”
I sigh. “I know! It’s all this!” I point to my face. “Lydia thought it was a good idea. I sort of hired Erin. It seemed like a good idea, but I felt all…”
I can’t even explain it. How do you explain looking better but feeling worse?
Mum seems to understand. “You didn’t feel like you. That’s fine. This isn’t you right now. You’ll go through lots of different versions of you before you get to the real you. In fact, I’m lots of different bits of me every day with different people. That’s life. It’s complicated.”
This is getting a bit deep and I don’t think I quite get it. Mum seems to sense this.
“Look, you’re fine as you are. It’s good to experiment, but at this point in a project I’d be sticking with what I know. I’d be carrying on doing what people love. And they clearly love you the way that you are. You don’t have to change. This is a good thing, not a bad one!”
She’s trying to make me feel better, but I don’t think she understands the magnitude of what has happened. I try to explain. “But this is Lydia’s specialist area. She knows what she’s doing! Or she’s meant to. I’m already sixty-four subscribers down!”
Mum replies almost immediately.
“Look, you’ve still got a ton of followers! So many that you’ve got representation. Millie, I won’t let you do this if it makes you ill or anxious. It’s not worth it. Get some perspective or get out of doing it!”
I hate this speech, but I know she has a point. I have to get tougher. I have to be more resilient. This is Granddad’s favorite word. He says it all the time. He thinks millennials lack “a bit of backbone.” I think he’s forgotten how scary it is to be young. I don’t think wondering what the hell you are doing is a new problem. I guarantee when they were building the pyramids 3,000 years ago there was someone saying, “Is a big triangle in a desert really a good idea and do I want to be part of this? I don’t even get a credit on the building!”
Every human being is a little bit of a mess. Even leaders who look like they know what they are doing.
“There is another thing, Millie!”
Mum interrupts me thinking about Tutankhamun having a crisis of confidence as a teen pharaoh.
“You’ve just told the entire world that Gary and I have split up and that he’s so emotional that he forgot part of his vacuum cleaner.”
I look at her. Oh GOD, this is completely true. I was in such a weird space when I was doing the vlog I hadn’t even thought. I’m exploiting my real life even when I don’t realize I’m exploiting my real life.
“Mum, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to take it down?”
Mum puts her arm around me. “Too late now, love, and anyway, it’s happened. I’m not ashamed of it and I don’t think Gary will be watching anything we do at the moment. He’s the kind of man that just cuts people off and moves on. He hasn’t spoken to his brother in twenty-three years. They fell out over a plant pot. He can detach himself easily from people. He’s built that way. I think he has his moon in Sagittarius. Anyway, I’ve spent a fortune on this takeout. Let’s get eating.”
I wonder what Danny’s moon is in? There’s no point in asking him as he thinks astrology is total nonsense. That’s not his main problem, though.
The problem is Danny is so twentieth century. Mum always says she likes that about him. He doesn’t live on his phone or through his phone. Yes, Mum, but it’s not 1993 and you are not in velvet hot pants at five in the morning enjoying a sunset in REAL LIFE. Old ravers like her make out like life was good before all this. It must have been dreadful. If your friend didn’t turn up, they just didn’t turn up. Aliens could have abducted them and you wouldn’t have found out for years, if ever!
I like to know where people are, so I like now in history. Even if that does mean that I know that Danny HAS seen my message and he’s choosing not to speak to me.
I wish I didn’t know that.
Mum puts the food in the microwave to reheat. Battered shrimp balls always make me feel better, even when they are a bit soggy. I’ll focus on my food and try to forget about the vlog.
As Mum has also got banana fritters and ice cream, I think I’ll be able to.
#Collaborator
I wake up with a brilliant full stomach and a not-so-brilliant full phone.
Lydia Portancia must have an alert for every vlog I do. She’s already watched my latest vlog “a few times” and sent me this e-mail.
Hi Millie!
Watched the new one a few times now. I think it’s a fantastic progression in your brand value. I sense a bit of discomfort from you, but that will pass as you get more comfortable with an everyday style of glamour. Just keep doing it. Don’t worry about the lost subscribers. It’s not just the numbers—it’s the quality of your numbers and your audience. Better to have 5,000 subscribers with money than 50,000 with none! First rule of business!
Can you give me all the details of your makeup artist please?
Thanks Millie,
L x
Lydia is BRUTAL. She’s harder than my mum. I send her a thank-you and a link to Erin’s Instagram.
My agent obviously loves my new direction, but I don’t—and I’m not the only one.
There is a text in capital letters from Lauren.
MILLIE. WHO DID YOUR MAKEUP? PLEASE TELL ME IT’S NOT WHO I THINK IT IS.
It IS who Lauren thinks it is, but I can’t have an argument in the morning before I have toast. Carbs help confrontation. Mum is right about that.
I reply with
We’ll talk at school. Love you
As I reply, Lauren walks in my bedroom door. I will have to fight this one without bread support.
“Your mum let me come up. She said you were upset!”
“I am a bit, Loz. Please go easy on me.”
Lauren tries to keep her temper but can’t.
“It was, though, wasn’t it?”
I decide playing innocent might be a good idea.
“Was what?” I ask.
Lauren makes a face of fury. Playing innocent is not a good idea.
“You know what I mean!” she shouts. “It was Erin who did your makeup!”
“Yes, it was.” I can’t lie about this fact. It’s obvious. “My agent thought it was a great idea and I asked her to help me.”
Lauren is incredulous. “Why would you do that? Have you got amnesia? Have you had a bump to your head recently? Seriously, see a doctor!”
“Because,” I reply, “she’s really good at it! She gave Bradley his makeover and look how that turned out! Incredible. He looks amazing. I thought she could help me out. I don’t see what the big deal is!”
I totally do see what the big deal is, obviously, but I’m trying to calm the whole situation down.
Lauren stamps her foot and starts pointing at me. She’s got a very aggressive-looking finger when she’s in full fury mode.
�
��Millie. She ruined my life and you, YOU! My best friend since forever, YOU gave her a second chance!”
I try to defend myself. “Just professionally, Lauren. It was just a business thing!”
I can’t really defend it. I know that.
“Who do you think you are?” Lauren yells. “It’s a betrayal of us.”
“Possibly,” I mutter. “But don’t you think she’s suffered enough? Bradley does!”
“Bradley is a lift geek. He spends most of his time looking at buttons. He’s hardly a good judge of character!”
I won’t have this. I don’t like anyone attacking Bradley. He was bullied for years and he didn’t, and doesn’t, deserve any of it.
“That’s not right, Loz. He’s a good guy!”
Lauren starts to get a bit too harsh.
“Well, he wasn’t good enough for you to go out with, so…”
This makes me angry. I interrupt and shout, “Can we PLEASE move on? Look, if you want the truth, I don’t like the way I looked, but my agent loves it. I’m trying different ways to be viral. It hasn’t worked. Give me a break. Now I’ve got to tell Lydia that I want to go back to NORMAL. The thought of doing that puts me in a flat-spin panic. Plus, I’ve lost lots of subscribers! Happy?”
Lauren sits on the end of my bed. She goes quiet.
“I’m not happy that you’ve lost loads of subscribers, but it does kind of serve you right. You made a deal with the makeup devil and she stole part of your soul with her evil brushes. You looked good, but you didn’t look like…”
“Me.” I finish Lauren’s sentence. “I know. I KNOW! Weird, isn’t it?”
And it is odd. I can’t explain it. I just know that I can’t ever have Erin help me again and …
Oh, no. I’ve just realized something very big and exceptionally frightening.
I sit down next to Lauren and grab hold of her hand.
“And now I have to work up the courage to tell Erin that I don’t want her to do my makeup anymore. I think she thinks that she’ll be doing it forever.”
Lauren’s eyes go wide. “Good luck with that one. I don’t think Erin will take to THAT kindly at all. Even this new, improved Erin. I’ll think she’ll go all Incredible Hulk. Hulkess! Old Erin will be reawakened by rage.”
She’s probably right, too. I have to admit it.
“The thing is, Lauren, I wasn’t clear. She did everything right, too. It was perfect. It was just—”
“Too Erin and not enough Millie.” Lauren finishes my sentence.
Yeah, that’s exactly right.
I’m still scared of Erin. I wonder if I can hide in my Zen Loo at school. I can for a while, but I can’t do that forever. I’m going to bump into her at some point. She’ll be looking for me, for a start. She would have read the comments on the vlog. Lots of people loved what she did. She won’t be able to understand why I don’t want her to help me again. Nor will Lydia.
I can’t think about that. It makes me feel quite sick. Instead I think about why my best friend has appeared at the end of my bed before breakfast.
“Anyway, why are you here so early?”
“Your mum has invited my dad to have a look at your tiles.”
“That was fast!” I say. I’m shocked. “She only mentioned them like, hours ago!”
“I know.” Lauren yawns. “She told my dad she just wanted a fresh start as soon as possible … Something to keep an eye on, Millie, I think. My dad can be a bit of a flirt,” Lauren snaps. “Have a look what he’s doing now!”
We peek out my bedroom door. Lauren’s dad is singing “Hey Jude” by the Beatles to Dave. He is using a loofah as a guitar, and Dave is purring around him like he is the best thing in the world. He is a complete cat charmer.
Lauren stares at me and pulls a face. “Yep. That happens a lot with Dad. He forgets what he is actually meant to be doing and starts playing tunes on bathroom equipment to pets. This is completely normal. Watch it, though. Some women think it’s cute.”
Not my mum. She would NOT fall for that sort of nonsense.
Mum comes up the stairs and starts giggling. “Oh, Rod, you are a character!” she says with a grin. Rod smiles at her and pulls a cat treat from his pocket.
“Does he always carry fish-flavored treats around with him, Lauren?”
“Oh, yes.” Lauren sighs. “He prefers animals to most humans. He knows how to get them on his side.”
All I can think is how easily Dave becomes friends with any random person.
“Dave will just be friends with anyone if she gets something from them!”
Lauren pulls a smug face. “Just like her owner! She’s learned from the best!”
I wanted to say something really clever back, but I can’t because at the moment this is a bit true.
#Link
At school it’s difficult to concentrate. I’m getting stared at more than usual and the whispering around me is pretty intense. There are lots of side glances, smirks, and people putting their hands in front of their mouths. A lot of people must have noticed that I’ve lost followers and some people are probably enjoying it.
At lunch, Lauren comes up to me. She looks pained. This usually means she’s got something to tell me that she knows I will not like.
I’m right.
“Millie. Have you had a look at your vlog?”
“No,” I say. And I haven’t. I daren’t, really. Normally I’d be checking a lot, but I’m worried about it.
Lauren grasps her forehead. “Have a look. You need to.”
Underneath one of the comments about “spectacular makeup,” Erin has written:
Thanks! I’m Erin and I do professional makeup. Find me at erinfaceforwardTM on Instagram.
“What’s TM?” Lauren asks.
“Trademark. She obviously thinks she’s going to end up with her own range of beauty products and she needs to kind of copyright them!”
Lauren looks outraged and yells, “UNBELIEVABLE ARROGANCE TM!”
No, it’s not. It’s actually forward thinking? She is thinking like an entrepreneur. Why are we bringing her down? It’s genius. I wish I’d thought of that.
“Have a look at her account!” Lauren froths. “I want to see what she says!”
We look at Erin’s relaunched Instagram (I’ll have to send Lydia the new link).
It’s amazing. She’s already got lots of photos uploaded and they’ve got hundreds of likes. She’s hashtagged to perfection and some of her looks are incredible. Day looks, night looks, fantasy looks. She doesn’t put a foot wrong.
“You’ve got to admit it, Lauren! She is seriously talented!”
Lauren scouts through everything. I can see that’s she trying to find fault, but that she can’t. Lauren turns to me, holds up the phone, and points to a photo where Erin has painted glistening sea-green scales across her face.
“Yep, you are right, Mills. I don’t know many sexy cod, but she’s pulling it off.”
This makes me giggle. “I think she’s meant to be a mermaid, Lauren, but she could probably do an attractive flounder. That’s the level she’s at!”
At this point Lauren flings her hand across her mouth and groans, “OH, NO!”
“Oh God! What?”
Lauren puts her finger on another picture and passes me the phone.
In Erin’s feed there’s a selfie we did together. I didn’t even think about it. I do selfies all the time. Who doesn’t? I just thought Erin was being friendly. She WAS being friendly, but now I am kind of a friendly advertisement.
Lauren reads out what it says below the photo.
“It says ‘This is from my latest shoot. Makeup for vlogger Millie Porter and a pat for Dave!’ Then there’s loads of hashtags. Like, about forty! Look!”
Lauren looks confused. “They don’t do makeup for cats, do they?”
I get a bit irritated. “Of course not! She’s mentioned Dave so she can legitimately hashtag #catsofinstagram and #cats on top of hashtagging all the beauty stuff. Mi
llions of people can see it. She knows what she’s doing. It’s very smart.”
Lauren puts her hands in the air. “Millie. You admire her! Admit it. Looks like Erin is doing your makeup forever.”
“Yes, I do actually, Lauren, but she’s not doing my makeup forever. She can’t!” I am now completely sure about this. “It’s great, but it’s not right. It’s—”
I don’t have time to finish my sentence.
“Millie!” Erin screams excitedly. She’s appeared from nowhere. “What a great reaction we’ve had! Have you seen it? I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve put a link up to my new Instagram page!”
At this point Lauren decides that she has something really important to do and runs off in the opposite direction. It’s just me and Erin. Face to unmade-up face.
I decide it’s a good idea to compliment her but, at the same time in a very clever way, tell her that I’m going natural from now on ALL at the same time.
“No, I don’t mind you linking, Erin. It makes perfect sense! And it was beautiful what you did. Like, awesome, but … um … I think I’ve decided to go in a different direction.”
“That’s exciting!” Erin exclaims. “I thought you might want to! Something a bit more dramatic. A bolder lip, perhaps? Something a bit more obvious. You can see now just how much you can get away with on-screen.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, “the thing is, Erin, I don’t think I’m a makeup sort of vlog. You should totally do that—I’d think you’d be amazing, but I’m going to just go sort of … natural from now on!”
Erin stops smiling. It’s like the sun has gone behind a very dark cloud. There’s a pause. A horrible pregnant monster one. She stiffens up, puts her head down, and then raises it slightly. She looks genuinely upset.
She speaks slowly.
“So, can I just get this straight … are you telling me that you don’t want me to do it again?”
I start stuttering.
“It’s … it’s … it’s not your fault. I just didn’t feel me, so I didn’t act like me and—”
“I get it,” Erin interrupts. “It’s not what you’re after? Some things are worth a try, but they don’t work out.”