If there was one thing that Nia Balewa had learnt in the last five years, working as a makeup artist, it was that whoever said appearances could be deceptive, was goddamn right.

One of her first jobs as a makeup artist was to glam-up an entire theatrical troupe for their daily rendition of Hamlet. Due to their scarce budget, they could not afford to hire experienced professionals, so they'd settled for her. Nia had not complained back then.

Working behind the scenes, there were a couple of things that she had learnt better than the audience: the first being that all the action took place here. Whatever was witnessed in front of those screens was a lie, a facade, built on remarkable acting skills.

So, if you'd grown to love the devilishly handsome and intriguing Prince Hamlet, you would have to be prepared to be devastated because he just happened to have a raging temper that when triggered, would bring down the entire building; his short-temper had led him to punch a newly-hired light board operator, in his face, when he messed up the lighting during a practice session. That was why everyone would steer clear of Hamlet no matter how charming he seemed.

That was the second thing she'd learnt: appearances and their deception.

Nia believed that she had a fair judgement when it came to people she worked for—people from the fashion and movie industry—but she'd learnt her lesson a long time ago; six years to be precise.

Lucky for her, the head of her department at her current job was as charming as he seemed. No ruse there. He had been a spectator at one of the shows, and wanting to meet the person behind the Hamlet's casts' artistically painted faces, he'd snuck up backstage just as the play was about to end.

He had enquired with Nia, who was standing close to the entrance, about wanting to meet the makeup artist.

"That's me," she'd said, surprised. A lot of fans would occasionally sneak backstage once the show was over to applaud the actors, but no one had ever wanted to meet the makeup artist. This was a first.

"I'm Colin Samuels," he'd introduced himself, but Nia had been too distracted by how green his eyes were, to pay attention to what he had said next.

Only when he handed her his business card, had she taken her eyes off his. Staring at the tiny letters, it took her a couple of seconds in the dim, yellow light to be able to decipher the words. Skimming through Colin's details, Nia had squinted to read the name of the company he worked for.

Lizzie Sinclair

Her breath had caught in her throat. Lizzie Sinclair was one of the largest companies in the makeup and glamour industry. The founder was a legend and Nia had looked up to her ever since she'd found her true passion. That was why she'd first applied for a job there and was heartbroken when she was turned down because she wasn't good enough.

She'd found jobs at several places then, but none of them had been permanent. For instance, next month, when the cast would travel to a different city, she'd have to start afresh and go seeking a job with a different drama or circus troupe.

"I uh, had actually applied for a job at Lizzie Sinclair, a year and a half ago, and I was turned down," she'd told him as she'd extended her hand to return his card.

Colin had stared at her, confused. Ignoring her outstretched hand, with his brows creased, he was lost in deep thought. "Was this before April last year?" he'd asked, watching her closely.

She had nodded. She remembered the date too, nineteenth February—the day that she'd been rejected her dream job.

Colin had run his fingers through his light brown hair, causing them to stand haphazardly on his head but it didn't make him any less attractive. Pressing his lips together, he'd finally noticed her hand, hanging limply in the space between them and had quickly accepted the card, slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. "Look­—" he'd stopped short, frowning.

He'd stared at Nia for a while, questioningly, and she'd stared back at him, not understanding what the lengthy pause was about. Upon realising that he didn't know her name, she'd turned a bright shade of red, visibly embarrassed. "Nia," she'd provided.

His lips had curled up into a small smile as he'd nodded. "Nia," he'd said. Listening to him say her name had made her heart flutter and she'd fought the urge to smile goofily.

But his next words had come as a surprise. "Our recruiter at that time was Mr Adams, who, in April of last year, was fired and sued for racial discrimination." Colin had looked mortified as he'd informed her. "I am really sorry you had to go through that."

Nia had stood transfixed at the revelation; a sinking feeling making its way to the pit of her stomach. Other than disapproving stares on the subway, or bullies at school picking on her because of the colour of her skin; she'd never experienced racism to this extent before. Not being given a job, even after having worked so hard to earn it, just because she was black? That was something she couldn't wrap her head around.

Having an incredible ability to calm herself during stressful times, Nia had been surprised by how her fists had clenched at the thought of the racist recruiter. She'd never thought that a day would arrive when she would relate to her mother's struggles; her experiences as a young black lawyer in a world of white, misogynistic men.

Releasing her fists, Nia had tried to successfully put on an impassive expression before she'd glanced up at Colin. She had found him watching her wide-eyed, his eyebrows raised. She could tell he felt guilty about the situation, but he was also worried how she'd take the news.

Nia had swallowed her anger and had given a quiet response. "It's okay."

As soon as the words had left her lips, Colin's shoulders had slackened. "So," he'd asked slowly, his signature grin making its way back to his face. "Would you consider coming to work for us?"

Her response had been interrupted by Prince Hamlet who had just stormed through the backstage curtains screaming his head off at Ophelia for having messed up her lines.

Nia had not needed further motivation. "Yes, I would love to."

She'd started the week after that and even though she loved her job, sometimes, it became a little too much.

The shrillness of her ringtone pierced through the air as she shot up in bed, her head buzzing. Shaking her head as if to come to her senses, she dug her hand under her pillow and grabbed the device that was now blaring even louder.

Colin, the screen read. But this time there were no butterflies in the stomach or cheesy, romantic thoughts—just pure annoyance. She stole a glance at the top of her screen which read 6:22 before swiping the icon and putting the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice sounding a little too hoarse to belong to her.

"Um," Colin stuttered on the other end. "Nia?"

"Yeah, Colin. It's me," she replied, her voice still laced with irritation.

Her eyes drooped and she fell face-down on her bed, a hand still firmly holding the phone.

"I need a—" Colin's voice came distorted. She repositioned the phone so that his words would be clearer. "A big one."

Lying there, she blinked. "You need a big what?"

"Favour, Nia. A favour." He stressed the words as though teaching it to a kindergartener. "I need a big favour."

She stifled a yawn. "Oh, okay. Go on."

He sighed and muttered something under his breath. After a moment, he said, "I think I missed a turn."

Nia was definitely sleep-deprived but listening to Colin murmur to himself, she could only think of one explanation. "Colin, are you drunk?" she asked, suddenly praying that it was true, so she could end this call and go back to sleep.

"What? No!" he protested, his voice suggesting he couldn't believe she would assume that.

"You sound drunk."

"Hey! So do you," he retorted.

Nia could distinctly hear the humming of an engine in the background and after a few seconds, the sound stopped. A door slammed, followed by a loud beep. She frowned. The sound seemed to have come from over the phone and at the same time, from outside her window.

As it dawned on her, she froze. "Colin, where are you?" She asked, jumping to her feet and in the same, groggy state, racing to her window.

"Yeah, about that—" he started to say but she found her answer—right there across the street was Colin leaning on his parked, black sedan. He was facing sideways, away from her as he spoke, his hand making a calming gesture in the air. "Don't freak out and I am really sorry—"

Too late for that.

"—but I am standing outside your apartment," he finished, and as if on cue, turned around to face her window.

She panicked and hurriedly backed away from the glass panes, hoping he hadn't caught a glimpse of her in her current state. She glanced down at herself; the flimsy, white, long-sleeved camisole was stuck to her body in a very unflattering manner; the red ketchup stain from last night, extremely prominent. The bright blue Olaf pyjamas that she loved, now caused her to curse under her breath.

The one time that Colin Samuels decided to show up at her doorstep, unannounced, was the one time that Nia found herself in such a compromising position.

"Hello? Are you still there?" The line was so clear now, she could practically hear him breathe.

"Yeah, come on up," she replied and disconnected the call.

Throwing her phone on the bed, she strode up to her closet. Pulling a grey sweatshirt over her head, and exchanging her Olaf pyjamas for normal, black ones, she made her way to the bathroom. Turning on the lights, she brushed her teeth with such intensity that by the time she was done, her gums hurt. She moved a hand over her buzz-cut hair, grateful that she hadn't ever been in a situation where her hair was a mess.

Grabbing a spray bottle from the bathroom shelf, she quickly spritzed the deodorant all over her body. Only when she smelt different than usual, did she realise that she'd just emptied out her bottle of citrus-scented toilet air-freshener and her deodorant still sat in the corner of the shelf, watching her royally screw up.

She felt like smacking herself but right at that moment, her phone started to ring, indicating that Colin must have climbed the four flights of stairs already. In the middle of the chaos, she resisted the urge to throw her phone out the window.

The overpowering scent of oranges had started to give her a headache and the deafening ringtone did not help her frustration in any way. She started to focus on her breathing, to help calm herself down as she answered Colin's call.

"Is it 402 or 403?" Colin's voice was a hushed whisper. "I don't want to wake any of your neighbours up."

Nia sighed. "Neither of those. It's 405. I thought you looked up my address in the employee records."

She started to walk to the front door, still smelling like she'd just bathed in a hundred oranges when Colin replied. "Yeah, I left the address in my car. And I didn't want to climb down four floors to find out."

"Smart decision," she said, dryly.

Unfastening the latch, she turned the knob and with a click the door opened to reveal Colin standing with his back towards her, facing the door opposite hers.

"Colin," she called out to him which caused him to jump. "Wrong door," she pointed out.

He turned around and looked at her with furrowed brows. Confusion written all over his face, he read the plate on Nia's door and then of the door's in front of him. Understanding his mistake, he pocketed his phone and smiled sheepishly as she gestured for him to enter her house.

He ran his fingers through his already ruffled hair, as he stepped inside, and she locked the door behind him. "You know, the number 6 on that door has been partially scraped out so it looks like a 5," he explained with a shrug, jamming his hands into the pocket of his ripped jeans.

His expression changed at once as his nose scrunched up in disgust. "God, why does everything smell like oranges in here?"

Nia crossed her arms in front of her chest, defensively. "Firstly, you look like you haven't slept in ages. Which is probably why that 6 looked like a 5 to you. And secondly, oranges are uh-awesome."

Her small outburst caused him to grin, and Nia found herself staring into his eyes—not because they were captivating, but because they were unbelievably red; the kind of red where you go see an ophthalmologist immediately.

But for Colin, it was the occasional-but-completely-normal-red. Some mornings she'd find him holed up in his office, wearing his clothes from the previous day and she would realise that he had spent the night, working. Those were the days she'd wonder what drove him to work so hard all the time.

And as she watched him rub the sleep from his eyes, standing in her living room, wearing a black coat over a May the Force Be with You t-shirt; she realised that there was no way she could ever be as dedicated to her job as him.

Colin was now checking her apartment out. "This place is nice," he said, bobbing his head in approval.

"Thanks," she replied as she led him past her bookshelves and to the couch that faced the wall-mounted television.

It was weird; having known each other for three years, this was the first time that Colin had visited her apartment, whereas she'd been to his, thrice. Every year, Colin hosted a Thanksgiving lunch which Nia made sure to attend. Other than that, they'd never really hung out before—they were what you'd call work friends. Nia hated that term.

Only when Colin collapsed on the couch did she remember her courtesies. "Hey, do you want some coffee?"

Colin shook his head but after a second, he smiled smugly. "Well, I'd like some orange juice, if you know what I mean."

Nia looked fixedly at him, her face impassive. "It's six-thirty in the morning, Colin and you're still not funny."

He was quick to replace his smirk with a dejected look. "I'm offended. But, I won't be, if you do me a favour."

Nia recalled their conversation over the phone and now it was her turn to smirk. "Ah! The big one, right?"

"Right," he rolled his eyes. Taking out a folder of papers from the inner pocket of his coat, he spread them out on the mahogany coffee table in front of him. Shifting to the right, he patted the sofa seat to his left, asking Nia to sit next to him. She complied.

As he shuffled through the pages, Nia noticed that the header on most of those sheets read Glamorous. In the chaos, she had totally forgotten what Colin had told her the day before and now she stared at him, alarmed.

"Colin," she said slowly, not wanting him to panic. "Doesn't your flight to London leave in four hours?" When Colin glanced up from the papers, her hands shot up, instinctively, to calm him down. "You can still make it, okay? It's not late—"

"Nia," he said, grabbing her hands to calm her down. The touch of his cold palms to her wrists made an electric spark course through her veins and she tried to resist the blood that was gushing up to her cheeks. Colin did not seem to notice. "I know. And that is why I am here."

He released her arms and went back to sifting through the sheets. "You know who has been assigned the Glamorous Beauty Pageant, don't you?" Colin asked as he watched her closely which only made her squirm under his gaze.

She exhaled slowly, as she recited their names. "Gina, Isha, Adrian and Leo. And the whole pageant being so important, you'll be joining them today."

"Correct," Colin said.

Nia studied him suspiciously. "I sense a but coming."

"But," Colin repeated, solemnly. "Gina's father was caught in a car accident yesterday and he's in the hospital right now."

Nia slapped her palm over her mouth, as she gasped. "Oh my God. That's terrible."

Gina wasn't a very close friend of Nia's, but they'd worked together on multiple occasions and the one thing that Nia was sure about, was that Gina was a perfectionist. That was one of the reasons that Colin hadn't had a problem with Nia's request to be excluded from any future assignment involving beauty contests.

As the thought crossed her mind, the current, absurd situation started to make sense to her. She groaned at the prospect and sat with her head in her hands. She could feel Colin's gaze piercing into her, but she stayed in that position for a few more seconds before finally straightening up. "You want me to come with you," she stated.

Colin nodded, not uttering a single word.

"And you want me to sign the agreement sheet?"

He nodded again, pulling out a pen from his coat. His face didn't give away his emotions but having known him for so long, his silence was an indicator of his vulnerability. If she didn't do this, he would be held accountable. She couldn't let that happen.

Colin had picked out the required sheet from the rest and it now sat on the table, ready to be signed. After a moment of hesitation, she plucked the pen out of his hand and signed her name. From the corner of her eye, she could see Colin's stiff posture finally relax.

Placing the signed document into his folder, he gathered up the rest of the papers and did the same. Positioning them inside his coat, he exhaled deeply. He entwined his fingers as he turned to Nia. "So, the company will book your ticket. And, I can pick you up on my way to the airport."

She looked up at him, surprised. "Okay. I will be ready."

"Great," he said, as he stood up. The atmosphere that had been so relaxing about ten minutes ago, was now thick with tension.

She rose up with him, stepping aside for him to walk towards the door. As he unlocked it and grabbed the doorknob, he faltered. After a second of contemplation, he turned towards where she stood and sighed. "Nia, you should know that I wouldn't have come here if I had another choice—"

"I know," Nia interrupted him, her right hand up in the air, making him pause. "For God's sake, Colin stop feeling guilty about assigning me my job. I had requested you not to assign me a pageant because I was tired after what happened at All About that Glamour. But this is obviously an emergency and I can't let you down. I promise I won't."

Colin smiled. His green eyes lit up for the first time that morning and he jerked the door open, stepping out into the corridor. He looked at Nia one last time and tilted his head, the wide grin still plastered on his face. "And for the record, I won't let you down either. This pageant won't be like any other, I promise."

And to say Colin kept his promise would definitely be an understatement.