Layla still hadn't fully turned back toward the camera. The sponsored products remained spread across the table in front of them, their packaging catching pieces of the streaming lights between Zoey's hands.
"Do you want me to do the presentation, or do you prefer to improvise?"
Nothing in Layla's expression gave either option more weight than the other. She simply waited beside Zoey, leaving the decision with her.
Zoey blinked twice before slowly turning her eyes toward the camera.
She stared directly into the lens as though an answer might somehow arrive through it. When none did, a breath escaped through her nose and her shoulders settled beneath her oversized hoodie. She gave a stiff nod, straightening a little at a time in her chair.
"I mean... you clearly know what you're doing. Like. Clearly. But I also... might have, y'know, an improv spirit? So maybe... teamwork?"
Her hand moved toward the remaining products. After hovering briefly between two of them, she picked up the hydrating overnight mask, a small tube of translucent gel meant to finish the routine. The smooth packaging turned between her fingers as she tried to find the front label for the camera, only for her to flip the tube upside down instead. Her fingers tightened around it at exactly the wrong moment, and a glossy blob of gel slipped from the opening and landed on the table between them.
Zoey's eyes followed it down. Her hand stayed suspended above the table with the inverted tube still caught between her fingers.
"...Teamwork was a mistake."
The deadpan whisper slipped out while messages and emojis continued climbing beside the stream. Zoey ignored them. She righted the tube, gathered some of the gel onto her fingertips and started applying it herself.
She tapped the gel against one cheek, tried spreading it with her fingertips, then switched back to patting before the first layer had been distributed properly. The translucent product collected unevenly across her skin, leaving one area glossy beneath the lights while another still held a thicker patch. Her sleeve began sliding toward her palm as she worked, and she pushed the cuff back with her wrist without taking her attention away from what she was doing.
Layla watched the increasingly complicated process from beside her.
"...Are you sure you don't want my help? I can warm my hands if it's an issue."
The question came in the same quiet tone as before. Layla remained where she was, her hands lowered instead of reaching toward Zoey's face.
That was enough for Zoey's fingers to stop against her cheek.
CHAT:
NO MERCY 💀
zoey pls just let her do it
she said that so gently it hurt
Zoey stared forward with her fingertips still resting against the glossy patch she'd been trying to spread. Her eyes remained fixed somewhere beyond the camera while the messages continued upward on the monitor.
"Okay well now it sounds like you're a skincare assassin and you're offering to finish me off with compassion."
Zoey lowered her hands and looked at them. Gel glistened across her fingertips, while the application on her face wasn't much better. One orange-red bang had worked loose and stuck against the uneven layer at her temple.
"...maybe just a little help."
"Not at all."
Layla's expression hadn't changed. She stepped toward Zoey's chair, closing the distance she'd deliberately left between them earlier. The black fabric of her dress shifted around her legs as she stopped beside her, and her attention moved to the glossy patches Zoey had left across her cheeks.
"I was only wondering if the sponsor would still pay if we use their product like jam on toast."
Zoey's mouth opened but nothing came out.
CHAT:
DEAD 💀
LAYLA STOP
jam on toast I'M SCREAMING
she walked in elegant and is now dragging her LMAOOO
Layla had already turned her attention to the uneven layer on Zoey's face. She brought her hands together first, rubbing her palms and fingers against each other several times before reaching toward Zoey.
Zoey watched the movement from the corner of her eye.
Layla's fingers met her cheek.
The contact was warmer than before.
Zoey's shoulders pulled straight beneath her hoodie, but she didn't move away. Layla spread the thicker patch of gel outward with steady pressure, smoothing it across the curve of her cheek toward her temple. Under her fingertips, the translucent layer caught the streaming light in a shifting gloss before thinning evenly over Zoey's skin.
A few strands of Layla's white hair slipped forward as she leaned closer, falling over her shoulder and resting against the exposed line of her collarbone. Her eyes stayed on the gel as she worked.
Zoey's hands remained suspended above her lap, fingers spread so the product coating them wouldn't touch her clothes. Even if there were already covered with stains of the previous cream.
CHAT:
this is the skincare equivalent of a duel
zoey hasn't breathed in two minutes
this is like being blessed by a skincare deity
Layla continued across the area Zoey had missed, her fingertips moving through the remaining gel in controlled circles before smoothing it toward the edge of her face. The thicker streaks gradually disappeared, leaving the same faint sheen across both cheeks.
Zoey's eyes followed one of Layla's movements before shifting away again. Her cheeks were already red beneath the glossy layer, and her lips stayed slightly parted while Layla's fingers moved down toward her jaw.
The side of Layla's dress brushed against the loose fabric covering Zoey's arm when she adjusted her position. Zoey's fingers curled inward above her lap, careful not to close her still-glistening hands against anything.
CHAT:
ASMR LEVEL: DIVINE INTERVENTION
this is the softest burn I've ever witnessed
sponsor better double their rate after this
Zoey hadn't moved from the chair. Her hands remained suspended above her lap, fingertips still shining with the gel she'd failed to apply properly, while she tried to occupy her thoughts with the products on the table, the sponsor, the camera, Hannah, or even the thousands of people currently watching her fail at skincare in real time. Anything should have been easier to concentrate on than the soft warmth of Layla's fingers moving over her cheek, or the beautiful model standing close enough that strands of white hair hung at the edge of Zoey's vision.
Her gaze stayed fixed somewhere beyond the monitor, mouth slightly open, as Layla's fingertips continued toward her jaw and the streaming lights reflected faintly from the gel across her red cheeks.