“ hey, hey, heyheyhey.  hold tight. ”

nobody expects the  bassist’s  beau to be polite, and  --  and, well, he ain’t, but he’s gentle enough not to hurt 2D when he props his fingers up under his chin, re-aligning his face.  he needs to reach them lids, man, you know?  ...  gotta smear this electric blue shadow all over them:  drag makeup,  if anything, but hey!  it matches the kid’s hair.    ( Holly taught him a lot about accentuating the eyes. )

   “ it’s just a little more. ”     sitting still     is hard for most people  -  gren ain’t     mad about that.   frustrated, though.     can’t  stand  to keep brushing away     smudges.    “ ease up. ”

and while he’s down there, bent at the hip, he fixes 2D’s blazer, too.  smoothes the collar down, then pops it back up with a yank on the lapels.  pink leather.  sharp.  bright.  gaudy as shit.