Johnathon Steele. Everybody knew him as a saint in Hollywood. He has worked with almost every movie star or singer in some way. He’s witnessed what no one else has; the naked faces of the people that society refers to as “beautiful”; the people that others aim to look like. What society doesn’t fathom, is that it’s all in the makeup he cakes on their faces, they aren’t actually pretty. Those that hadn’t worked with him, wished they had. Other makeup artists envied his work, questioning how he does it. Ever since he was 13 years old he had been venturing with makeup, perceiving it as a mask to hide flaws. He could make someone look like a totally different person, or not even a person. They told him what they wanted to look like, he did it. All his classmates thought he was “weird” and picked on him on as a kid, but that didn’t alter him. Look at him now, he might not make much money, but he’s successful and everyone knows his name. The kids that picked on him? They’re stuck working at the fast food restaurants he stops at on the way to work.
“John, I’ve got it! I want to look like a sea serpent, with scales and everything!” yelled Lady Gaga from her changing room.
“Alright, darling!” sang John back to her.
He shoveled through his makeup bags, through the different powders, eyeliners, eyeshadows, anything you could possibly conceptualize. Then he jerked out his sparkly facial creams. Lady Gaga came and sat down in her chair wearing nothing but a leotard, anticipating for her body to be transformed into a snake. Johnathon started painting her with sparkly green, blue, yellow, and purple body paint. He composed the scales in such detail and focused everything around her eyes making them pop out. He even stained her hair purple and slicked it back and had it curled. He had a smile on his face the entire time doing so. Makeup is what he had been aching to do his entire life, and he finally fulfilled his dream. There was still and emptiness in his stomach for some reason that he can’t comprehend, though. Meanwhile, the T.V. blasted from the bedroom.
“There have been many crimes occurring over the past few weeks in the Los Angeles area. Justin Bieber’s card has been reportedly stolen from his hotel room. It is said that there have been huge purchases on it including $5,000 spent at Nordstrom, a jeep bought from “Randy’s new and used car shop”, and many other small purchases at the LA mall. Also, a Westie puppy has been stolen from the pet shop, and most recently, Kanye West’s green Viper is missing. The question is, who is behind all of these crimes? If you have any information about these crimes whatsoever, please contact the Los Angeles police.”
Ermahgod what kind of a person would do something like that?! I hope I’m not next!” Shrieked Lady Gaga. She wrinkles her forehead, bringing her eyebrows inwards, and her mouth opens into an “O” shape.Her face was priceless. She just couldn’t apprehend what would make somebody do that. Those people devote their lives to their work and ignorant people are going to steal their hard earned things? It’s disgusting.
“ Well probably someone that makes a salary like mine did it!” joked Johnathon.
He had a sense of humor which is one of the reasons why everybody loved him. He’s very optimistic and unique. You can tell this just by looking at him. He was wearing a cut off t-shirt with an old band name written on it, skinny jeans, and combat boots. He cares about his image more than most men do.
“Perfection!” Johnathon screamed in his off-tone deep voice.
“You are brilliant!” One glance in the mirror and the shocked look is off her face, Lady Gaga is overcome with excitement, and leans in to give him a hug but didn’t want to get makeup all over. So instead, she blew him a kiss.
“Have fun on the set of your new video! Send it to me as soon as it’s done, I want to be the first to see once it’s finished. Bye, love!” yelled John as he exited the hotel room.
Johnathon hops into his new, red Lamborghini, and drives to his apartment in Los Angeles. It’s a little run down building in the middle of the city. He climbs up 5 flights of stairs and enters the small room. The smell of must enters his nose and it smells of old food because the place never really gets cleaned. He goes into the tiny bathroom and takes a cold shower under the faucet that barely runs, a weird habit of his. Once dry, he sits in the dark, cold apartment wearing just a towel. The only thing on is his desk light, he tries to think about who he can pretend to be that night, nobody can figure out that it’s him. He’s already played it off as a teenage boy, a homeless man, and a woman. Now he contemplates on all the different faces he could have. Finally he comes up with his conclusion, an old man.
He gets to work. Draws wrinkles on his face, focusing on the skin below his eyes making it look as if he hadn’t slept for days. He puts white dye into his coarse, thick, shiny black hair. Puts on an old plaid shirt and some loose jeans, along with some slippers. He drives his old silver Saturn and parks in the Burger King parking lot just 20 minutes outside of town. This is it. His vengeance on the boy that made High School a living hell for him. Hunter Goodman, star of the football team, would beat John up every single day. Push him into lockers, yelling “faggot!”, everyone thought it was so funny. Little did he know, he’s the one who almost pushed Johnathon over the edge. He tried committing suicide.,, he attempted overdosing on pills but his mom walked in and rushed him to the hospital.
“Hun, please promise me you will never do something like that again. It’s your junior year in high school, you’ve only got one more year and you’re out of Oregon forever. Just remember that you have so much to live for. You’re all I’ve got left and I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. You already have a full ride scholarship to UCLA. It’s one more year, don’t let people bring you down. Please. You can do it, I’ll help you.” His mother said this through the tears streaming down her beautiful porcelain face.
She never knew that Johnathon would go this far. She’s the only reason he’s still here today.
A shiver goes through Johnathon’s body and goosebumps raise on his thin, pale arms, bringing the little black hairs straight up. He shakes his head and brushes it off. It hurts him just to think about it, it’s like he can feel the metal of the locker on his back again and Hunter’s thick arms around his neck. That’s something he tries desperately hard to forget.
So finally, he opens the car door and walks slowly into the Burger King, using his cane to support him. Hunter’s the only one working, so Johnathon annoyingly asks questions, playing the old man part well. Then finally, he pulls a handgun from his Levi pants, and jumps the counter and grabs Hunter around the neck. He drags him outside, and stuffs him in the trunk of the car.
He drives and drives until he’s in a ghost town. Woods in all directions. He follows the instructions his partner in crime gave him and finally he sees it. The hole already dug for him, how kind. Hunter gets out of the car, his face wet from tears.
“John, I didn’t mean any of those things I said to you in high school, I really didn’t. I was just desperate for attention and immature. I’ll give you anything you want if you just leave me alone. My house, my car, all my money.” he bawled as he begged John to let him live.
John was surprised that he even knew it was him, he probably recognized his voice.
“It’s too late now.” he replied, his voice uneven and nervous.
Boom! He pulled the trigger of the gun with his sweaty hands, still shaking. He dragged Hunter’s body into the hole, and took a shovel and put the heavy, dark dirt back into the ground where it came from. He did this as fast as he could and jumped back into his car and sped off.
Once home, he took a shower and got rid of all evidence. He climbed into his bed, and tried to sleep but he couldn’t. He was lost in his many thoughts. This was the worst thing he’d done yet, and he had committed more crimes than he could count, never murder, though. He thought this would make him feel better, but it didn’t. He wondered if he would get caught, but there was no way that could happen. He left no evidence whatsoever and he hadn’t any of the times before. He just kept second guessing himself all night on this decision and the last time he looked at the clock it was 3:58 A.M. when he finally closed his eyes and fell asleep.
It was a new day, he had to start it off right. He takes his usual cold shower and heads out to breakfast with Lindsay Lohan who had been going through a troubling time in her life and needed help. He orders his usual, a number 8 sub, no onions, extra tomato, cut in half, and Lindsay, simply soup. She talks about her recent prison experience.
She tells him about how she had to sit in a filthy cell all alone for the entire day. She got fed once a day and that’s the only time she was allowed out of the cage that contained her. The food tasted expired and not good at all, she constantly would fine long gray hairs of the cooks in hers. The mattress she slept in was thin and as hard as a rock. She had to go to the bathroom in her stall, where everyone could see her. She had to shower in one big shower, with other people, and that only happened about once every three days. She told John that he was the only one who was there for her to talk. Her parents wouldn’t even answer her calls. They referred to her as a “screw up” and said that she never does anything right. They said they’re done with her and never to ask them for anything again. As Lindsay says this, she’s choked up on her words, on the verge of tears.

John is overcome with this experience of hers. Even though he’s been trying desperately to avoid thinking of it all day, he can’t. If anyone finds out about the murder, that would be him. But instead of a few months, it would be a lifetime. He knows that no one would bother calling, even though everybody loves him, Lindsay is the only person that he truly trusts with even the smallest things. He’s always been the type of person that keeps everything bottled up inside and that’s not a habit he’s going to break.

“Baby girl it’s all going to be okay, I’ll help you through it all. You can come and stay at my place for a few weeks so we can get you back on track. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, though.” he says as he hugs her tightly.

They meet back at his apartment and as Lindsay showers, he turns on the news.

“ Breaking news just coming in, Hunter Goodman found dead just outside of the Los Angeles area! He was found buried in a 7 feet deep hole, loosely covered up by dirt, at 4 AM this morning. Hunter is a 24 year old man that lives in Los Angeles working as the manager at Burger King. His closest friends and his girlfriend all say that they have no idea who it could be, that he never mentioned having problems with anyone. Police have found absolutely no evidence of who it could have been, either. Please contact the police if you have any information to share. These crimes are becoming a serious problem lately. The county has decided to install video cameras all over.”

The sides of Jonathan's mouth lifted into a smirk, another outstanding crime committed by him, and nobody found out. This is the last one though, because he finally achieved his goal all along, revenge.