At First Blush

Author

CHAPTER ONE

I’m not totally sure when talking to myself stopped being weird. Maybe when half a million people started listening.

You’ll want to use a large, fluffy brush and place your bronzer in the E3 formation. Only place it where the sun would naturally hit.

My practiced hand guides the brush from my left temple, inside the hollow of my cheek, and blends down onto my jawline, then mirrors the motion on the other side. I check the viewfinder to make sure I’m staying in frame. Next I’m going to blend out the eyeliner. This is a fresh summer look. We’re not going for smoky, just soft.

When my Sunset Summer Eyes with a Pop of Coral look is complete, I film the intro. Hey, guys! Today’s video will show you how to get this peach toned look. I tilt my head and point at my cheeks, my lips. I’m not sure why gestures are such a huge part of being a YouTuber. The viewer will still know what a face is without me pointing it out. Perfect for a night out with your friends. I pause.

This is the part where I should be adding that it would also be perfect for a date night, but that would only invite a slew of questions about my romantic life. And that particular topic is definitely not worth discussing.

"Before we get into the tutorial, I need to let you all in on a little secret: I’ll be interning at On Trend magazine all summer! And I get to bring you guys along as I vlog everything. And everyone," I add with a conspiratorial wink.

When I got the e-mail from the magazine’s editor last month I freaked out, dancing around every room in my parents’ furniture store. On Trend is inviting three YouTubers to work in their New York City office and vlog about the August issue's featured guest editor.

The guest editor won’t be revealed till our first day of work, but I already have a running list of potential actresses it could be. Whoever it is, I hope she has tips on the perfect smoky eye!

But what I’m most excited about is reviewing makeup products all day. The entire experience is sure to get me over a million subscribers.

I’m about to remind everyone to give the video a thumbs-up if they liked it and comment below when there’s a pounding at the door.

I walk to the front of Daphne’s Designs and grab the Closed sign. I start to rattle it around to send away the pushy customer when I realize it’s my best friend, Cynthia Henley.

The bell tinkles cheerfully as I open the door, a sharp contrast to Cynth’s scowl. Don’t hold back, she says, "I’m fully aware it’s that bad."

And it is. It’s awful. Cynth’s long, enviable blond locks are gone, cropped so short they barely poke out of the orange Peaches ’n Cream paper hat.

I don’t have to ask to know what led to such drastic measures. She didn’t get the Primetime Tonight internship. This is the fourth position she didn’t get, and the one she wanted most. Whenever life doesn’t go her way, she’ll drop by Bargain Cuts and tell them to work their magic.

No! Not at all, I say. It’s very, um. I hold a jagged piece of hair between my thumb and forefinger and inspect it closely. Kicky.

Ugh. She pushes past me, yanking off her hat as she heads toward one of the store’s kitchens. 'Kicky' is what people say when someone’s not cute to make them feel cute.

If you hate it that much I could hook you up with some extensions.

I get sent stuff all the time to review for my channel. Most of the items are sketchy makeup from brands I’d never advertise in good conscience. But the extensions are actually pretty great. I even featured them in a Twitter giveaway.

She glares at me. I didn’t come here for LaceyBlushes, YouTube phenomenon. I need Lacey Robbins, my best friend. Call this what it is. A disaster. Just like my life.

It takes a minute to switch gears. Not easy when style tips are all I think about, 24-7.

I sift through the mental Rolodex of things we can discuss. The first topic to pop up is one I know she’ll snap about, but I don’t care.

"Who cares about Primetime Tonight when you already have an internship waiting for you? A way cooler one?"

There is no way I’m doing it. I’d rather serve frozen yogurt till I’m ninety.

"The Good Evening Show with Blake Kingston is awesome and hilarious. If you give it a chance, I know you’ll love it."

More important, the late-night talk show was willing to accept her into their intern program. Cynth and I are part of our high school’s media program, which means we’re allowed to do college-level internships.

I’m not working for a show that airs at midnight and whose only audience is frat boys. Whatever. Enough about my misery. She glances at my mom’s open office door. Mom’s been working late every night on the upcoming release of the store’s dorm furniture.

Cynth lowers her voice. Did you find out anything about your coworkers? Her blue eyes twinkle. Potentially male coworkers, to be exact? Cynth’s convinced one of the YouTubers I’m working with will be some gorgeous boy, thus beginning the hottest (and first) relationship of my life.

No idea yet. I think they want us to be surprised so we don’t start Googling each other. And for the last time, I’m pretty sure only girls will be doing this. It’s a teen fashion magazine.

They cover guy stuff too. And last I checked there are plenty of hot guy YouTubers.

I’m not there for dating. I’m there to learn and to grow my channel.

If you dare repeat the Alex Jenkins incident our friendship is over.

Not this again.

It was not an ‘incident.’ Something came up. Alex totally understood.

You chose YouTube over prom! And the irony is you’ve done tons of prom tutorials.

For the last time, it was worth it. I won YouTube’s NextUp contest! I got to attend Creator Camp for up-and-coming vloggers! Besides, Alex is off in Jersey for college in the fall. Even if anything had happened between us, we’d be broken up by now.

You can’t know that. He could’ve been the world’s greatest boyfriend, but you had a YouTube thing.

I won a gift certificate to Best Buy. How do you think I got my camera strap?

Because scratchy nylon totally beats a night of romance, limos, and dancing. She pulls out her phone and a second later shoves it under my nose. It’s her Facebook friend list.

Michael Berk. Remember meeting him at my birthday? She jabs at the thumbnail of a cute guy with floppy blond hair. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. She scrolls down. And Lee Chang? You exchanged numbers. He was super shy and hinted at asking you out but you never picked up on it.

Not my fault. He could have simply asked.

Jacob Saunders, Pete Smith—

Okay, I get it. The thing is, you don’t get to half a million subscribers by going out every weekend with guys you’re not into. Why waste time if there are no sparks?

Sparks aren’t always instantaneous. You’re too busy planning your next tutorial to give anyone more than four seconds of your time. She pockets her phone, the visual aid in her never-ending Lacey-Needs-to-Get-Out-More presentation. "Look, you know I’m always one hundred percent on your side, but you are obsessed with your channel. We’re seventeen. There’s so much more you should be doing!"

How is that being one hundred percent on my side, exactly? I gaze longingly at my equipment in the living room. I’m itching to start editing. So what if I’m a little obsessed? Loving what you do is not a bad thing.

Cynth hops off the stool and picks up her bag. "Just promise me one thing: if there is a hot guy within a hundred feet of On Trend, you’ll put down your camera and pay attention."

I can’t make that kind of promise. At least not without you sacrificing something.

I’m listening, she says through clenched teeth.

"You have to intern for The Good Evening Show."

Ha. Got her. She totally didn’t expect that. She grips the toaster like she might throw it at me. Her eyes are narrowed, but I see the gears turning behind them. She’s thinking about it.

That’s not fair. I only push you because you need to step out of your comfort zone.

So do you. Just because it’s a comedy talk show doesn’t make it bad. You might have fun. I’ve seen some of the sketches. They’re great.

"Blake Kingston’s humor is so stupid. Primetime Tonight is hard news. She slaps the back of her hand into her other palm. It’s about facts. Reporting important events to the masses. Drawing people into an impactful story. It was going to prepare me for field reporting. How will a sketch like Pebbles the Aquaphobic Penguin prime me for war zones?"

I cover my snort with a cough. I love Pebbles.

I hate you.

She goes to coil a piece of hair around her finger but stops short when there’s nothing to coil. "The Good Evening Show is only like a block or so from the On Trend building, right?"

Right across the street. We could take the train into the city together every day. Maybe even get lunch together. I nudge her with my shoulder. And I swear I’ll keep up my end of the bargain. If there’s a hot guy, I’ll flirt my butt off.

She fiddles with the sink’s tap. No water streams out of course, but she keeps messing with it. Up, down, up, down.

All right. It’s a deal.

CHAPTER TWO

I’m up a whole hour before my alarm Monday morning. I toy with the idea of filming a "Get Ready with Me! First Day at On Trend! but let’s be real. I’m shaking so hard I can’t work my belt buckle, let alone my camera. I settle for an Instagrammed Outfit of the Day." Within a few minutes I have over a hundred likes. I smile and reply to a few comments. One person loves my white high-waisted shorts. Someone hates how it pairs with my black braided belt.

Where’d you get that top? It’s so gorg!

H&M :)

Next time show your shoes plz.

Oops! I’m wearing white sandals :)

You should get highlights!

Maybe one day? We’ll see!

Nooo Lacey, I love your dark hair!

Thanks! :)

When I enter the kitchen, Dad’s already at the island. His wrist is inches from his face and his glasses are perched on his head. A platter of last night’s leftover toasted bagels, and three different cream cheeses are laid out.

Morning. He looks up, blinks a few times, then smiles. Dad splurged on an Apple Watch for his last birthday. Mom claims it’s a midlife crisis purchase, and he has no need for it. He’s spent the past month trying to prove it can do literally anything. Except for one problem: he can’t see too well on the screen designed for much younger eyes.

I climb up onto my stool and scan the food. Dinner for breakfast?

Or maybe we one eightied right back to breakfast, he says, frowning at his wrist.

Didn’t get your TMZ alerts on that thing set up yet?

Not yet. Guess I’ll have to read the manual, after all. TMZ is as vital to Dad in the morning as Mom’s giant thermos of coffee. Which is noticeably missing, as is Mom.

He follows my gaze. Mom waited as long as she could. Said she’ll text you later. She also says, ‘Eric, return the watch.’ Dad’s trying to get me to crack a smile. It’s not working.

I won’t hold my breath on either of those things, I mumble.

Once the dorm line is launched, business will be booming. Then we’ll have her back, he says without much conviction. Are you excited for the big first day?

Excited. Terrified. I pick up a cinnamon-raisin bagel, put it right back down. Nauseous.

Can’t have one without the others, unfortunately. Got everything you need? He gets up and wraps my bagel in aluminum foil.

I check my camera bag for the hundredth time. Everything’s crammed around my beloved Canon: wallet, light sweater in case the place is air-conditioned, notebook and pen, cell phone. I’m not bringing any makeup besides lip gloss because there’s probably a massive On Trend makeup room, and I intend to use it.

I’m good.

He pops my foil-wrapped breakfast and a water bottle into a paper bag and hands it to me.

I don’t take it. You’re joking.

I never joke about the most important meal of the day.

I can’t walk into work with a brown-bagged lunch, Dad. I’ll die. This isn’t second grade. Sometimes it’s too easy for him to slip back into stay-at-home-dad mode. He only started working with Mom again as the store’s comanager three years ago.

He shrugs. Whatever you want. I just hope you thought it through.

I’m not hungry. I won’t be hungry today. I’m too nervous. I rub at a row of eye shadow swatches on the back of my hand. I always test products by streaking them across my hands and arms. It helps me decide on color combos. Except I always forget to clean it off with makeup remover.

Your mind is nervous, and it’s winning right now, but your stomach is on a whole other wavelength. Trust me. You’ll be in some meeting with Lady GaGa or whoever the cover girl is, and it’ll be all quiet and official until your growling stomach takes over the room. You’ll be so glad to have a bagged lunch then. He swings it like a pendulum.

Leave it to Dad to manage to get a small smile out of me. This was similar to his first day of school speeches for the past eleven years, only he replaced classroom with meeting and teacher with Lady GaGa.

I’ll force a few bites on the train. I take a tiny sip of juice and shoulder my camera bag. I gotta go. Cynth’s probably waiting at the station.

Dad shakes his head, smiling. Next time I see you, you’ll have a million subscribers.

If only it could happen that fast.

Just promise me one thing? Never get so famous you’re on TMZ, he says with a wink. Not sure what I’d do if I ever saw LaceyBlushes on there.

This gets me to laugh. Consider it done.

***

Cynth: Aahh. Overslept. I suck. I’ll be fired before my first day even starts. *side eye emoji* Hope your ride in is good. <3

My finger hovers over my phone’s keyboard. In the end I don’t bother replying. I know Cynth isn’t into The Good Evening Show, but being late on her first day? Not professional. Even for her.

I bought a few silly activity books at my train station and spent the ride in trying to distract myself with crossword puzzles. Still, it would have eased my nerves more to sit with my best friend.

Penn Station is packed with morning commuters. I’m clutching my camera bag protectively, trying not to get shoved to the ground as I’m carried along the stream of people into the stifling subway. The hot wind whips my hair to four times its normal size. My very own Foolproof Sweat-Proof makeup is currently melting down my neck. The important thing is, after two subway stops, I’ve made it.

I’m here. Forty-Eighth and Sixth. Harried pedestrians push like I’m an annoying rock in their stream. I weave through the midtown crowd and collapse against the On Trend building. I take in a huge breath to ease my nerves. Then I start choking from diesel fumes emanating from the bus idling at the curb.

Is it possible our guest editor is in there right now? I suppress a squeal of excitement. Maybe it’s not an actress but a singer. Or—even better!—maybe it’s a combo singer-actress.

Rockefeller Plaza is right across the street. Cynth should be arriving soon. I hope she wasn’t too late for her first day. I know she’s determined to hate it there, but I also know that, sometimes with a small push, she’ll open her mind up a bit.

A guard greets me and I give him the temporary paper ID pass that came with my welcome letter. He scans it and directs me to an elevator.

When I step into eighth-floor reception I breathe in deep, taking everything in.

In my mind, I had imagined the place smelling like an actual magazine—that heady, sweet scent of perfumes mingling together. But it smells fresh. Almost like a combination of suntan lotion and lilac.

This place is In. Freaking. Sane, right? A blonde with an inverted bob and square fuchsia glasses is sitting in reception. She waves me over and I take the space beside her on the yellow-and-black couch. I’m Felicia DeWitte. ScarfItDown.

I already know her. I’m subbed to her channel. ScarfItDown has three million subscribers and focuses heavily on fashion and accessories.

I smile. Hi. I’m Lacey Robbins. LaceyBlushes. You as nervous as me?

Cool. I’ll have to search your channel later. It stings a bit that she doesn’t know me, but that’s why I’m here, right? I’ve always wanted to make YouTube friends. There are tons of us online, but I never managed to click with any in person. Maybe this will be my chance to meet people who understand this world. She slings her camera strap around her neck. And yes! Definitely. Been up since three a.m. choosing an outfit.

I had my subscribers choose. Laid out three different options on my bed and snapped a picture. This won.

She smiles. Maybe we should start vlogging the decor?

It is beautiful. I reach in my bag for the smaller camera I use to vlog.

A guy steps off the elevator. Too girly is what it is. Jordan Dougherty saunters in and pans around the room with his camera. I’m not subbed to him but everyone watches Jordan for his fun tech-gadget reviews. He makes perfect sense as the third vlogger; On Trend always has a two-page spread dedicated to the latest technology.

His black hair isn’t as spiky in person, but the buzzed sides are more pronounced. He doesn’t apply to Cynth’s flirting dare because he’s dating Candice Green, one of the top beauty gurus.

Not wanting to be the only one without a vlog, I stand and pan the entire room: the couches, a flashy On Trend sign, and the focal point of the room—a huge expanse of floor that’s sunken like a shallow pool. It’s surrounded by a bright railing and stairs on every side. Colorful throw pillows top off the space.

Did you guys see who’s outside? Felicia says in a hushed whisper.

We shake our heads.

She taps Playback on her camera. The screen shows the same bus I saw when I arrived. Felicia’s recorded voice is made tinny by the crackling wind. "Hey guys, so today is my very first day at On Trend magazine. If the buzz we’re hearing is true, then we are approximately ten feet away from Tyler. Lance’s. Bus."

Disappointment crashes in. Hard. Vlogging pop star Tyler Lance will be more damage control for him than the thrilling opportunity promised to us YouTubers. There go my dreams of studying Selena Gomez’s smoky eye.

Where’d you hear that? I ask.

I’ve heard he’s a total jerk, Jordan says with a shrug.

Felicia flinches, annoyed that we’re speaking over her footage, and presses the Stop button. She ticks points off on her fingers. Well, for starters, that’s definitely his bus. He’s got new music coming out. He’s gone solo. She says this all slowly, like we’re kindergartners.

But I know all this already. Tyler Lance has been the subject of dozens of my dad’s TMZ alerts. Ever since he quit Simply Complicated, the pop-rock band he was in with his brother and cousin, he’s had a downward spiral.

Felicia pauses before pressing Playback again. Oh, and the biggest clue: he tweeted out how he’s spending the next two months in New York for promo. Don’t you follow him on Twitter?

No, Jordan and I say.

Well, you should start. Because after today we’ll be watching his every move. Hopefully many of which he’ll be making in skintight jeans. She smiles dreamily. Tough job, huh?

A tall woman in her early twenties enters the office. She’s wearing cream high heels, dark leggings, and a flowy floral tank top. Hi, girls. I’m Emily Mason, the features editor. I recognize her picture from the masthead of every issue.

Good morning, the three of us say in unison. In reverence.

Emily smiles at all of us. Ready for orientation?

Felicia, Jordan, and I follow Emily past reception and through a series of cubicles and offices. She walks quickly, pointing to staff members or clothing racks as we go. We vlog everything. Lavender and yellow flowers sit atop sleek glass tables, and large, blown-up sketches of handbags and couture adorn a back wall.

Save your batteries, Emily says. The interesting part won’t be here for another few minutes.

Felicia smirks at me and mouths, Told ya.

We’ve come back full circle and Emily leads us down the steps into the sunken floor. We each sit on a throw pillow.

You three wouldn’t be here if your channels weren’t already successful, but hopefully you’ll find partnering with us this summer will make your viewership grow. And I’m sure it’ll bring us new readers.

Just knowing Emily Mason has even seen a LaceyBlushes video is terrifying and thrilling. I mentally go through my repertoire. Hopefully I never posted anything stupid.

YouTube is undeniably isolating, Emily continues, so collaborating with each other should spark some new creativity in all of you.

Jordan coughs. What if we work better alone?

Emily’s smile drops a millimeter. You don’t know that until you start collaborating, but you’ll have plenty of chances to film individual videos. We have tons of fashion for both men and women, not to mention all the gadgets we’re sent for review. So you and Felicia are set. Of course Lacey will be doing tutorials with the makeup we have sent for review. I’ll talk to the companies about giving you all affiliate links.

I’d pinch myself if no one was watching. This is what I’ve been working toward. Affiliate links mean I get a commission if a viewer buys products through my channel. That’s my ultimate dream: to be an Internet star who’s sought after by the best makeup companies. The ultimate ultimate dream? To nab a Glass Cube contract. Glass Cube is YouTube’s biggest talent management and marketing company. Their clients have bestselling books, clothing, and jewelry and makeup lines. Some have even booked acting gigs in TV and movies. Signing with them would guarantee a long, successful career.

When our cover star is busy or has nothing scheduled to vlog, you can shoot your own personal videos. Feel free to utilize anything we have in the sample closet. Not that the average video will seem all that exciting once you meet the cover star. She glances at the elevator, then