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Techno T. Blade was having the worst day of his life.
He stared down at the intern sitting in his makeup chair, hoping it would be enough to scare him away. It was his patented Blood God Staredown after all, named after one of his more famous roles.
But much to his dismay, the intern was oblivious to the Staredown. He popped his bubblegum obnoxiously, throwing up a peace sign, “‘Sup? Are you supposed to be Mr. Blade?”
Techno could feel the irritation bubbling in his chest as his scowl deepened. He looked around his trailer, hoping to find literally anybody else.
Aside from the boxes of stage makeup and furniture, it was empty. None of his usual makeup artists’ bags were there, save for an unfamiliar beat-up backpack. He assumed that belonged to the intern.
He felt his irritation fizzle into something resembling… confusion? In his thirteen years of acting, his makeup teams never left their stations unattended. If they weren’t in the trailer, the trailer was locked.
So why was there an intern in the trailer?
“Where’s Susie?” Techno asked, falling onto the little couch in the corner, “She’s supposed to have me ready by 6.”
The intern perked up and grabbed something off the vanity, offering it to Techno with a toothy smile, “She told me to give you this!”
He gingerly plucked it out of his hand, revealing a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it revealed a note from the aforementioned Susie.
Set emergency—all hands on deck. Tommy’s trained, he’ll get your makeup done. Thanks—S
Looking up, he saw the intern—Tommy, by the sounds of it—out of his chair and rifling through one of the boxes on the table. He resigned himself to a day of filming in uneven foundation.
Techno settled himself in his proper chair and watched the intern walk around, plucking various things out of different drawers and boxes, “So you’re Tommy, eh?”
“Ayup, been Tommy my whole life.” He set everything down in front of Techno, seemingly satisfied in his choices.
“Mhm, right…” He let the silence overtake the two of them, as Tommy worked. The intern, as he observed in the mirror, seemed comfortable enough with the stage makeup. He used the same techniques that Susie usually did, even adding in flair of his own.
Much to his surprise, he actually… didn’t look too bad. And while his face still felt heavy with product, it wasn’t overbearing and stifling as it usually was.
And Techno had to begrudgingly admit, the kid… was okay.
—
“Smith, I thought I asked for this ten minutes ago?” Techno could barely keep a straight face as he attempted to flower at the assistant. He couldn’t help it, okay? He had been on set for almost fourteen hours without caffeine!
He regretted signing the contract for this D-Lister movie! And to think, he had an offer to co-host Tales with Karl Jacobs…
The assistant started to visibly shake in their too-expensive Gucci slides, eerily resembling a wet Chihuahua. They started to sputter some kind of excuse or another, but was stopped when he held up a finger to silence them.
Techno took a long, slow sip of his coffee and spat it out almost instantly. He frowned and set the travel cup down onto his side table, the metal clinging harshly, “Schmidt, what did I say about de-caf?”
“I, we just— it was a misun—“
“No.” He tossed the cup over and crossed his arms, “No de-caf. Ever. And if this isn’t fixed in the next two minutes, I’ll have your job on a platter, Scott.”
He watched in brief glee as the assistant practically sprinted away with the empty cup. Terrorizing the crew was perhaps the only highlight of his day.
Humming, Techno flipped open his script and went through his next scene half-heartedly. He was off book already, but it didn’t hurt to have a refresher every once in awhile.
Even though his eyes were trained on the pages, his brain couldn’t help but wander back to the strange incident only hours before. It wasn’t every day that a set emergency demanded all hands on deck, when that happened last time… well, he was still a Hollywood newbie when that happened.
He frowned and flipped his script over harshly. So why had there been no mention of it?
The usual crew gossips would be on top of it by now, but he hadn’t heard a peep! Everything seemed to be running smoothly now, aside from the ever-blundering Smurf.
A tap on the shoulder had him whirling around abruptly, startled.
The intern from before— wasn’t it… Tommy?— waved and gestured to the cup in his hand. A familiar cup with little pink pigs embellished on the sides.
Techno couldn’t stop the heaving sigh that escaped his mouth. Smaug just had to pawn off their duties to someone else. Typical.
“Let me guess— one of the assistants told you to do their job for them?” He leaned back in his chair.
“Ehhhh,” Tommy shook his free hand in a ‘maybe’ gesture, “I’m a big man, I can handle coffee runs.”
Gingerly, he took the mug out of his hands, “I don’t think makeup interns are gettin’ paid for bringing divas their drinks.” Techno couldn’t help but snort, amused at his own exaggeration of himself.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Tommy flopped onto the chair next to Techno, clearly marked as ‘Dream’, “I don’t work for those makeup bitches. I’m my own bitch. Bitch.”
“And who do you work for then?”
“I’m supposed to be interning for the camera crew, but they said they got their employee things messed up.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly, but Techno swore he could spot a bit of disappointment in Tommy’s eyes, “So now I intern for— everyone, I guess. Whoever needs something done.”
He took a sip of his coffee and hummed in satisfaction. It was significantly better than whatever Sneeg had brought. Tasty, warm, and most of all, caffeinated.
“Well Tommy, if you can keep getting coffee like this, even I would consider you for a job.” Techno almost laughed at the idea. He had only met the intern two times, but Tommy had his own charm. Even if his cursing would result in Techno probably getting demonetized.
Tommy was quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting down to the script still clutched in Techno’s hand. Then he smiled, “That would be so cool.”
—
And of course the next day Tommy was his hairstylist.
Techno grunted, still sleepy from being dragged out of his nice bed as Tommy ‘ayup’ed him. He barely registered himself sliding down into his seat until he felt his head bump against the back panel uncomfortably.
In all fairness, he was still mad at the director and Dream for the day prior. He was scheduled to film three more scenes in his Syndicate costume, but instead George and his lead actor wanted more landscape shots. Of course this would happen on the day he wore the most time-consuming costume ever.
He continued to grumble around as Tommy worked quickly around him, chatting lowly about anything and everything. The noise and ambience from the intern helped to wake him up slowly, leaving Techno to realize he was already in his pink wig.
Blinking, he reached up to touch at the locks, some part of him reeling at the speed. But his hand was quickly knocked away by Tommy, who tutted, “Don’t touch that big man, I’m still styling.”
And indeed he was. Now more awake than ever, Techno watched as Tommy worked deftly with the hairspray and combs and whatever else was laying around.
As he did so, he noticed something in the corner of his eye. In the mirror across from him, he could see Tommy moving along and working, as usual. But he could catch a glimpse of the intern’s shirt and he felt the corner of his mouth start to rise into a half-smile.
“Hey, is that from my first movie?”
Taken aback for a moment, Tommy glanced down at his own shirt and pulled away part of his flannel to show off the tee under it, “Uhhh… yeah! Got it a few years ago, I was a pretty big fan of the movie when it came out.”
The movie in question was Techno’s breakout role, in which he played a murderous king named the Blood God. It was his first movie to go out into cinemas and the reviews were ecstatic. The Blood God himself was only a minor character in the story, but he developed a short cult-following from loyal fans of the movie.
In fact, Techno still had a fanclub dedicated to his role as the Blood God. And he was certain Tommy’s shirt was from one of the fanclub merch drops. But he wouldn’t let Tommy know that he knew; he would spare him the embarrassment of a confrontation.
Instead, Techno leaned back in his chair with a small smile. It was… nice, to know that he still had loyal fans from day 1.
—
He saw red.
All throughout the process of filming, Techno had come to begrudgingly care for the intern, whom he had all-but-adopted as his assistant. It wasn’t very hard to do; most of his personal staff tended to drop their jobs on Tommy anyways, it wasn’t very hard to convince Tommy to just stick by his side throughout the day.
But then Dream had the gall to fire Tommy!
And Techno couldn’t do anything about it, because nobody had bothered to tell him!
He stormed up to where George was chatting with a few of his production managers. He stared daggers at them with the good ol’ Blood God Glare until they finally scurried away. Then he turned his gaze to George.
George, of whom, looked unaffected except for a slight crease in his forehead. He sighed dramatically and gestured, “What’s wrong now, Techno?”
“What’s wrong?” Techno could barely muster himself from practically growling, “Your lead just fired my assistant!”
“Mr. Samuel?” The director lifted an eyebrow, a sort of befuddlement crossing his face, “I thought he was working in post-production now?”
“No,” He huffed, “My assistant. Tommy.”
George continued to think for a moment, then his face lit up, “Oh! You mean the extra intern? He wasn’t your assistant.”
“I know, but he was doing the job of everybody in my crew!” Techno gestured around to the set around them, “He has been taking on the roles of makeup, costuming, hair, and general assistance. I haven’t seen a single member of my makeup crew in months.”
Sighing, George set down the clipboard he had been holding and stood up, facing him, “That sounds rough, it really does, but I’m sure Dream had a good reason. We didn’t need another intern and I can have a talk with whoever has been slacking. But look, we had budget cuts and once someone’s been let go, we can’t afford to re-hire right now.”
He felt the anger in his chest slowly dissolve as he listened to the director prattle on.
So that was it? George wouldn’t do anything to help him? Even when Techno was bringing in money with his name?
His… name.
His name.
His name!
The only reason he was on this damn film in the first place was his clout! He didn’t have to stay here, it wouldn’t hurt his reputation nor his bank account.
With that in mind, he decided what he was going to do.
Techno stopped George and held his hand out to silence him, “Then consider this as me formally stepping down.”
The other sputtered, “Wait— you can’t do that, you signed a contract and we still have more ho—“
He didn’t bother to wait around and listen, as he spun around and walked out of the set.
—
“You’re going to hire me? As a real assistant?”
“Ehhh, just don’t get weird about it.”
“I am going to be so weird about it.”
—
Nearly a whole year later, Techno held his award up to the cameras and let a small smile onto his face, “This wouldn’t have been possibly without the support of those around me, my brothers Phil and Wilbur, and my new protege, Tommy Innit.”
END