Title: Clouds So Dark Up Above
Prompt: makeup
Fandom: Connie/Carla, Connie & Carla
Requested by:
kitnkabootle Rating: PG
Word Count: 630
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: You know what was the most nerve-wracking part about writing this drabble request? Writing a story about makeup for a makeup artist. *bites nails* This is set waaay before the movie, when Connie and Carla are just teenagers. I hope you like it - let me know what you think!
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Connie lay on the bed, staring up at the poster of Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, and Donald O'Connor above her. They smiled beneath their umbrellas, their faces eternally stuck mid-song. They looked happy. She sighed.
"Ugh." Across the room, Carla scoffed at her reflection in the vanity mirror and threw the stick of eyeliner that she was holding. "I can't get this right."
"What's wrong?" Connie asked, propping herself up onto her elbows. She looked at her best friend, whose pretty face was pulled into a frown. Her heart tugged.
"You're so much better at makeup than I am," Carla frowned, sucking at her teeth. "Will you teach me?"
Connie got up and crossed the room, pulling the chair from her desk with her. Sitting down in front of her friend, Connie peered down the slope of her nose and pursed her lips. Carla had managed to apply a rosy hint of blush to her cheeks but had smudged the dark eyeliner all over her eyelid.
"Is it that bad?" Carla asked, her shoulders drooping.
"Nah," Connie replied. She took up a tissue, wrapped it around her finger, and dabbed at her tongue. She wiped away the smudged makeup and took up the pencil. "You just need more practice. You'll get it."
"Do you really think we'll win the talent show at school on Friday?" Carla asked, blinking hopefully.
"Quit moving." Connie stuck her tongue in her cheek as she lined Carla's large eyes with the liner. "And yes, I do think we'll win. You've gotta have more confidence in us, Carla."
When Connie pulled away to switch eyes, Carla said, "It's not that I don't have confidence. I just…I want to be good."
"We are good." Connie repeated the application of the eyeliner on the opposite eye. She dropped the pencil and picked up the eye shadow.
"But what if--"
"Carla Jean! Your voice is giving me croup! Will you listen to how ridiculous you sound? Do you think Debbie Reynolds second guesses herself all the time?"
Carla blinked and frowned.
"No, Carla! No! She doesn't."
"But she's Debbie Reynolds, and I'm just…"
"You're you, Carla. Why don't you realize how amazing you are?"
Carla tilted her head down and frowned at her knees. Chewing on her plump bottom lip, she cast her eyes up to meet Connie's. "Do you really think so?"
"Of course I do." Connie tucked her fingers under Carla's chin. "I wish I had…" You, she wanted to say. "What you have. You don't even need makeup," she quickly added, finishing the eye shadow. She picked up the lip pencil and began to trace the outline of Carla's pouty mouth. Her throat felt suddenly dry. She felt her skin begin to goose pimple and she quickly finished and applied the lipstick. "All done."
Carla turned, looking at herself in the mirror. "Wow, Con. You're so good with your hands!"
Connie blushed and looked back at Gene, Donald, and Debbie.
"Hey Con?" She placed her hand on Connie's knee.
"Yea?"
"Do you think…" She blushed, and Connie held her breath. "Do you think Bobby'll ask me out?"
Connie felt her heart sink. "He'd be a fool not to."
Carla beamed and jumped up. "I'm gonna get a grape soda. You want one?"
Connie shook her head and slumped in her chair when her best friend bounced out of the room. She wondered if she'd ever be like Debbie or Gene. She could even stand for being like Donald. She wanted more than she had as a sixteen-year-old girl living in a small suburb of Chicago. She wanted to be famous. She wanted to sing. She wanted Carla to notice her as more than her best friend.
She wanted a reason to sing in the rain.
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