Mother Helps Son
- 4 years ago
- 13
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Monologue free porn video
Thomas had a long day ahead of him and limited himself to a quick cup of
coffee so he would have the time to spare for touch-ups and the
possibility of late public transit.
"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Len knew he could manage, but
couldn't shake her fascination with the face and persona he was slowly
developing for Elaine, the scorned, would-be mistress of a middle-aged
man in crisis.
"I can handle it." He confirmed the fit of her silicone rubber nose to
his own, then removed it to apply skin-safe superglue to both surfaces.
It was carefully fixed in place, giving it a thin and prominent bridge.
The remaining pieces of her face sat before him on individual plaster
castings awaiting assembly. Her question reminded him of a conversation
they had the other day. "Len," he said in a tone he hoped was reassuring,
"I'm still going to let you do my Halloween makeup if you want. I loved
that alien design of yours. Who was the model?"
"Sophie, a friend from college. That was her only time wearing anything
that extensive. The lifecast was claustrophobic enough for her but after
a few hours in the mask she was begging to be let out of it. I think
there was more to her panic than that, though."
"Really? What else could it have been?" The seams around her nose were
slowly disappearing with the aid of adhesive and diluted acetone.
"She was hoping to impress some guy at the party. He was nothing special
as far as I could tell, but I think she wasn't used to attention and she
got attached in a hurry. He claimed he remembered her but couldn't recall
any details from their last conversation."
He set down his brush and turned in his chair. "Were you eavesdropping?"
"A bit," she admitted. "I didn't like his body language. I'm a den mother
of sorts. Look, if you want to understand women then know that some of us
look out for each other because when you're used to feeling vulnerable,
it pays to be paranoid." She stood in front of the fridge, then decided
breakfast could wait for a bit. "Really, it wouldn't surprise me if he
was bluffing his way through it. It didn't take long for his eyes to
wander towards girls in more revealing outfits." She pulled out a kitchen
chair opposite Thomas but didn't sit down, instead taking the moment to
recollect. "By the time I finally peeled it all off of her in the
bathroom, he already left with a sexy nurse. To think he could have had
the real deal with her," she said, then went to pour herself a glass of
orange juice.
"I'm sure she was better off in the long run. Not that it would have hurt
any less in the moment. I'm not sure I would have minded the rejection so
much if I were in her shoes. She could have played it off as being an
alien who was unfamiliar with human mating rituals."
Len choked on her juice, then wiped her mouth as she stifled a giggle.
"Oh, like that would have gone over better! Seriously, he would have left
immediately if she had done that."
"Instead of almost immediately."
"Point taken. But that's not her style and nor was he, so like you said,
she's better off."
They sat in silence while Len quietly nursed her orange juice and Thomas
carefully lifted the chin piece from the positive plaster mold. It had a
softening effect on his masculine jawline after being precisely secured.
"I always look ridiculous when I'm halfway done."
"Not that it matters. As long as it looks great in the end," she said
with a wry smile. "By the way, do you have a lifecast I can borrow? Or do
I need to smother you in alginate tomorrow? I have a lot of sculpting to
do for the costume I have planned for you."
"You're going to make me hideous, aren't you?"
"Beauty is subjective," she said, then walked over to pat him on the back
reassuringly. "You'll have to trust me. Knock 'em dead in class today."
*****
On a bench outside Dr. Lavoie's classroom, Eric compulsively bounced his
knee as he recited his monologue to himself from memory. "Second prize is
a set of steak knives. Second prize is-". He knew how it should sound but
acting, as he understood it, isn't mimicry. He wasn't sure how it should
feel but he knew he wasn't feeling it. He knew it was only a class
assignment. He trusted his teacher to be a qualified critic. His knee
wouldn't quit. "Let me have your attention for a moment."
"Alright, you have my attention," said a young woman carrying a black
coach purse as she approached from around the corner. "That line about
steak knives sounds familiar but the name of the play escapes me."
"Ah, it's from 'Glengarry Glen Gloss'," he said as he lost himself for a
moment in her placid gaze and full peach lips. "I mean, 'Ross'. Sorry.
It's Blake's speech, you know, Alec Baldwin's at the beginning of the
movie." Her loitering near the classroom door compelled him to ask. "Are
you here for Dr. Lavoie's class?" She nodded. "Did you transfer in this
week? Because I feel like I'd remember seeing you in class."
"You saw me. You aren't seeing me now," she said, moving closer and
making herself available for inspection. His focus returned to his
performance ahead.
"Oh, okay then," was all he had to say.
Classmates gathered as the time for class drew closer. With a minute to
spare, Dr. Lavoie came with the keys to let in her students. Once they
found their seats, she spoke to settle their nerves. "I want our
scheduled actors to relax. You've had all weekend to practice.
Remember, I'm more interested in how the elements of your performance
come together than I am in any specific part of it. When the audience
sees you on stage or screen, they aren't wondering about your enunciation
or your tone or your body language unless you have failed to sell them on
your performance. If you can get the audience to buy what you're
selling, so to speak, then the rest is window dressing." The professor
picked up her class notes from the lectern and checked student names.
"We have three students scheduled today. Portia's monologue from 'Julius
Caesar' will be performed by Carolyn. Blake's monologue from "Glengarry
Glen Ross" will be performed by Eric and Elaine's monologue from 'Last of
the Red Hot Lovers' will be performed by-" She adjusted her bifocals and
reread her notes. "Thomas, you're-"
"Right here," said the young woman in her low-cut orange top.
After a close inspection, she deduced from the lack of visible pores on
the young woman's face and breasts that they were the result of extensive
prosthetic makeup. "Silicone rubber and foundation, I presume?"
He gave a deferential nod. "The mask is a seven-piece prosthetic. There
are the ears, cheeks, chin, a nose and forehead piece. Oh, and the
breasts are also glued down."
"Noted, but I did not ask for students to perform in costume today. If
you don't mind, can you demonstrate the range of motion in your mask?"
Thomas opened his mouth carefully, gave a half-hearted smile and tried to
squint in one eye, then the other. "I suspect your mask is either too
thick, improperly adhered or you did not use enough deadener. Assuming
the rest of the work is yours," she said, receiving a nod in reply, "then
you have potential backstage. That's not the purpose of this class."
"I know, Dr. Lavoie. I wanted to demonstrate my range as a professional
and my ability to step out of my comfort zone."
"A single performance can't demonstrate an actor's range. I think your
makeup is going to work against you today. But I am willing to be proved
wrong." She directed him to take center stage in the classroom as she
took a seat with her students.
The actor took his place, shut his eyes, focused inward on his breathing
and released his opening line. "You hypocrite," he said with a
bitterness and rage that his face could not reflect. "You soul-
searching, finger-smelling, hypocritical son of a bitch! Who are you to
tell anybody how to go through life?"
The professor kept silent through the expressionless delivery of the
remainder of his monologue.
"I suspected as much. Did you perform a makeup test before today? Did
you actually perform this monologue in front of a mirror in full makeup?"
His silence told her enough.
"I can tell because while your voice and line delivery are adequate, I
can't see any facial expressions that match that tone. It looks like
Elaine went overboard with botox treatments and a facelift." She rose
and stood in front of the class.
"This actually has been an issue with prosthetic makeup in theatre and
film for decades so I don't mean to be harsh. Gene Roddenberry
instructed the makeup artists on 'Star Trek' to never design an alien
makeup in such a way that an actor would be unable to emote. It's how we
ended up with so many forehead ridges and ear shapes. Even in modern
times, such as with DiCaprio's performance as J. Edgar Hoover or Carla
Gugino in old-age makeup as the original Silk Spectre, we see makeup
artists who forget that their prosthetic makeup has to move with the
performer and allow them to work. If your schedule is open after class, I
want you to perform in front of a mirror and try to understand my
critique. Then we can talk privately in my office."
*****
He stood in front of the mirror in the men's bathroom down the hall from
his class and tried to understand how another person would see his
reflection. He didn't have to dig deep to find his anger and frustration
this time.
"You hypocrite!" His voice echoed off the walls. "You soul-searching,
finger-smelling, hypocritical-" He felt her anger. "You hypocrite!" Could
he actually see her anger? "You hypocrite! You soul-searching-" He saw no
pain or fear in her eyes, but why should Elaine be frightened? Barney
wasn't a threat to her. He was lonely, bored and wanting an affair. Even
if she did feel that way, why would she ever betray those emotions to
anyone? She would keep them locked away behind a mask of sarcasm and wit.
She would refuse to give him even the slightest pleasure in knowing that
he could touch her with his desire if she could help it. Maybe some
people can't help but be vulnerable to the world. If they had the choice,
they would choose to hide as he had done when he sealed himself away
inside of her.
*****
"Dr. Lavoie?" A sharp tap on the door molding took her attention away
from her reading.
"Thomas, come in." He adjusted his skirt and set his purse beside him as
he took a seat in front of her desk. "Are you okay with that name?"
"I guess I am. Yes, Thomas is fine." He set down his purse and tried to
find a way to rest his hands.
"I could hear you practicing in the restroom. You have quite the voice
when you don't want to be heard. Did you see what I was saying?"
"I think so. I sounded upset and my body language was expressive but my
face said nothing at all."
"For a mainstage production, microexpressions won't be an issue. I could
have clarified that in my critique. My other reason for wanting to speak
to you in private was to find out why you actually chose to dress in this
way. If this was part of your transition then I can understand your
choices better but to go with something so elaborate and time-consuming-
How long did it take for you to apply all of this?"
"It took about three hours. I'm getting faster with practice." He
remembered her other statement. "I'm not transitioning. This is only an
occasional thing for me."
"I see. I suppose you wanted to see the world from the other side." He
could only shrug his shoulders in reply. "It doesn't matter which face
you wear if your eyes remain the same. When you go out in public en
femme, how do you interact with your surroundings?"
"This is my first time out in public like this. I've practiced my makeup
many times before today in private."
"That would explain your nervousness." She laced her fingers and rested
them atop her desk. "I look forward to seeing you perform your monologue
without any of this getting in the way. To be clear, there is merit in
learning to perform in costume if your goal is to grow through real-life
experience. Would you be willing to try an acting exercise in public? You
are free to refuse but I'd hate to see your hard work go to waste so
soon. I want you to go shopping for clothing today before you go home.
You don't have to buy anything or head to the dressing room but I want
you to ask a salesperson for their opinion on what you should purchase.
Real conversations are essential practice and you can expect polite
service at most places."
He felt his blood pressure rise and a lump form in his throat. "I can't.
I don't know. I don't have anything planned but I can't go."
"That's fine. Would you prefer another acting exercise?"
"This was a mistake." He firmly held his jaw between his manicured
fingers and nervously rubbed his rubber cheeks. He realized that even if
he could rip his mask off now, it would make returning to his apartment
much more uncomfortable, so it would have to stay intact for now.
"Our makeup department has solvent if you need any."
He continued with idle pinches and nail scrapes against its surface.
"She's a lie. I feel selfish wearing this face in public. I'm okay with
wearing it in class because you all understand it's a lie. But anywhere
else and all I want to do is avoid people." A tug of her ear interrupted
his train of thought.
"You're right. This face is a lie. Until you are willing to commit to the
performance, it will remain a hollow, insubstantial lie. Do you
understand the difference between acting and lying?"
"It's the setting, right? The audience knowingly agrees to believe the
lies a performer tells in the context of the performance."
"An artist cannot place the burden of communication entirely on their
audience. Remember what I said at the beginning of class today. You have
to learn how to sell the idea of your character as though you were
introducing yourself to the world. Connect to her, then connect to others
through her. Are you willing to be Elaine? Next Monday, I want to see
Elaine remind all of us why she won't settle for Barney and his treatment
of her. But this time, I don't want to see an ounce of rubber, glue, wigs
or cosmetics getting in the way. Come as you are."
He relaxed his hands and forced himself to stop fidgeting with the mask.
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for your help."
****
The city bus opened its door to three would-be passengers standing
patiently along the sidewalk. A young man in a buttoned-down baby blue
shirt gave a curt nod and dropped his heavy textbooks on the nearest
seat. A young woman wearing the unusual combination of grey pajama pants,
a matching sweatshirt and a black jumper, seemingly unaware that the bus
had a driver, found her way to a center seat. Another young woman in an
orange blouse and black skirt, baring a complexion too perfect to be
natural, anxiously found her seat in the far back of the bus.
Thomas was done being Elaine for the day. He would try to be content with
staring out the window and ignoring the cold until he arrived at the stop
closest to his apartment. Nobody ever seemed to want to talk on the bus.
It didn't matter who he appeared to be as passengers were all the same to
each other. It may be that in his pursuit of a perfect face that her
visage crossed into the uncanny valley where the sight of her was more
unnerving than appealing. It was more likely that bus riders were
conditioned to see their travel as a brief stop in limbo rather than an
event of its own. His hand moved into his purse and enamel nails tapped
idly against his cell phone. It was only twenty minutes until his stop.
Len said she wanted to know how his monologue went. He called to check
and she answered on the third ring.
"Hey. How did your monologue go?"
"You were right," he said with no sense of shame. For all of their
differences, he never saw her as a harsh judge. Certainly, she couldn't
be more demanding than he ever was of himself. "She wants to see me
perform the monologue again next week without makeup. I don't have any
other classes on Mondays so I'll be back at the apartment in a few
minutes."
"Did you want to go out for lunch? I'm meeting some friends in about an
hour."
"Maybe after I've changed," he said, being careful with his choice of
words in case someone overheard.
"I'd love to see you in another dress. I don't think my clothes would fit
but you could borrow some accessories. I have a tan scarf that you might
like."
"No, I mean I need to change completely."
"You're tapping out so soon? I would've thought you'd want to be seen
after the effort you put into that face of yours."
"I don't know. Maybe. We'll talk more about it in a bit. Bye." He wanted
to be able to say 'Yes' but knew he had to decline. He hoped he wasn't
too abrupt when he hung up on her.
*****
He was prepared to spend another afternoon sitting alone in front of a
screen when he saw Len dressed for a day out around town. In a stark
departure from her usual navy blue scrubs or tattered pajamas, she chose
a flattering pale yellow blouse and paired it with a white camisole and
ivory slacks to match her faux-leather coin purse.
"Have you decided to come along?"
"I think I'm going to take my time and relax here. Maybe we can schedule
something next week. I think they'd rather see me as my real self first.
Actually, if you could give me a few minutes to unmask and change I'd
love to meet your friends."
"Alright, but I'm sure they'd love to meet Elaine. That is, if you're
keeping that name from the play for her. Now that I think of it, it could
be weird if you were coincidentally playing a character of the same name.
I haven't mentioned anything to them about this side of yourself yet."
"Good. Don't. It's not a side of myself. I still feel like she's nothing
more than a pretty face. It's probably why my performance in class fell
flat."
"Then you can use this as a chance to explore her as an actual person.
Think of it as improv practice."
"Dr. Lavoie suggested something similar. I might be up for it later this
week." Len was disappointed to see him roughly grab his left rubber
breast to try and rip it away.
"Please? I think this will be good for you. If it doesn't work out, it
isn't like they'll run into you again even if you run into them. They're
open-minded. They might even think it's fun if they ever found out the
truth."
"They'll get the truth on my own terms. I don't want to lie to anyone and
that's exactly how this feels because it isn't who I am."
"It's a chance to surprise yourself. How often do people ever give
themselves that? I'll make you a deal. Come out with us for lunch today
and I'll let you make yourself into the kinkiest rubber doll you could
imagine for a whole day. I'll take care of you the entire time."
"No." Starting from his nose, he pinched the prosthetic tightly between
his finger and thumb. He winced in pain as Elaine's face slowly deformed
beneath his fingertips. As each shred of the mask was slowly and
painfully torn away, he balled it into his fists then tossed it into the
trash can. The wig was tossed onto a countertop and his bald cap soon
snapped and joined the rest of the discarded silicone. "I'm so going to
need a facial this evening," he said before stepping into the bathroom to
cleanse and exfoliate.
"Alright, I'll call ahead. They can wait a few minutes for you to clean
up and change clothes."
*****
Her friends were waiting for her on the patio under a cloudless sky and
the full afternoon sun. They were politely curious about her guest.
"This is my roommate, Thomas, and these are my friends and coworkers from
the hospital, Lizzie and Sophie. I hope you don't mind me bringing
someone along."
"Of course not," said Lizzie. "Do you work in healthcare?" Thomas shook
his head dismissively. "Then we'll have to keep shop talk to a minimum.
You might lose your appetite over some of the things we chat about."
"No, feel free. I'm curious enough."
"If you insist." They took their seats. The three of them started on
their iced teas, leaving Thomas to try and get the attention of a waiter.
"I'd like a glass of water," he said. "Have you all ordered yet?"
"No," said Sophie. "We're ready now, I think. I'll have the carbonara and
a side order of salad."
"The pasta florentine sounds good," said Lizzie.
"I'll have the chicken parmigiana," said Len, leaving Thomas to be the
last to order. Having not looked at a menu yet, he chose one of the other
orders. "I'll also have the florentine." The waiter promptly left to get
the water and place their orders.
"Tell us about yourself, if you don't mind," said Lizzie to Thomas. "Len
hasn't said much about you yet aside from how you're a morning person and
you love to cook."
"She's got me there. I'm only a student right now. I recently transferred
from a community college into the theater arts program at Simmons
University. I want to focus on acting to see if it's for me."
"Won't know unless you give it a shot. And if it doesn't work out, you
might be able to find a job behind the curtains. Did Len here tell you
about her special effects makeup work?"
"Yes, I've seen pictures." He turned to Sophie. "Were you the friend who
wore her alien design with the blue and teal fade and the massive ear
lobes?"
"Yeah, that was me. I started freaking out a bit during the lifecast and
Len was ready to stop halfway but I gave her the 'keep going' signal with
my hands. She offered to tone down the makeup to just a head or nose
piece-"
"Or I could have gone with straight makeup. Not everything has to be
rubber and glue," she interjected, giving Thomas a sideways glance.
"I know, but I didn't think it would be as bad. And it wasn't, until..."
Sophie's voice trailed off and Len picked up on it.
"I mentioned it to him already. He understands."
"Anyway, she's always looking for test subjects for her makeup projects.
If you don't mind being known as someone who enjoys acting behind a mask,
you could carve out a niche for yourself there. Lots of performers can't
stand it."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said. "The way you said 'test subjects' has
me curious. Who else has she been able to talk into the makeup chair?"
Lizzie took her opportunity to join into the conversation.
"Two years ago on Halloween, Len was dating this guy," she said, striking
a nerve in Len. "He said it was her idea to dress him up as a woman for
the party but I think he just said that to save face. Len's not the sort
to make someone feel uncomfortable on purpose. Are you?" Len shook her
head and groaned as she allowed Lizzie to finish her anecdote. "The fact
was we would never have known it was him if he never spoke. Even close
up, you couldn't tell he was wearing a mask."
"I'll have to get her to teach me a few things then. I dressed in drag
for theater class earlier today and the prosthetics- well, they looked
great until I moved my face."
"Perfect is the enemy of good," said Len, "especially if your goal is
realism. And his 'Elaine' looked more like a rubber doll than a real
woman. It's okay to have nasolabial folds, you know!"
"I know, but-" Thomas let his voice fade. He knew he had no rebuttal.
"I'm not trying to be mean. It's going to take a lot of practice." She
took his lack of response to indicate the need for a new discussion
topic. "So, Lizzie, how are things on the third floor?"
"You know, the usual. So, Thomas, what do you enjoy cooking? I've been
practicing pastry lately and phyllo dough is driving me up the wall!"
"Really," he said, suddenly animated by their shared interest."It took me
a while to master- okay, 'master' is an overstatement but you get what I
mean." She nodded in reply. "The good news is that once you get the hang
of it, puff pastry shouldn't be nearly as challenging. How has it gone so
far?"
"It's basically a pile of uneven crackers when it comes out of the oven."
"It sounds like it could be a few things that need tweaking. Maybe we
could practice together sometime?"
"Sounds like a date!" They both noticed Len's apprehension and after
exchanging contact information, decided to spend the next few minutes
sipping their beverages until their lunch orders came.
*****
Thomas and Len settled in at their apartment, satisfied by their meals
He let her settle in first, then took a seat on the opposite side of the
couch and left a cushion between them. "Sophie seems nice."
"She is." She picked up the television remotes and found a sitcom to
resume. "Don't hurt her."
"I won't." He couldn't let the subject end there. "Why would you think
I'd hurt her?"
"I don't know. I don't." She selected 'Resume' then sunk into her corner.
"Then why would-" Frustrated, he retreated to his bedroom.
"Thomas," she shouted, trying to be immersed by the television. "Are you
ready to try those rubber doll gloves out this weekend?" He heard, but
gave no reply.
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