I sit up. This is the last thing I expected—an utterly selfless reason for competing.
“K-Drama brought joy and laughter back to her life. I want to win this contest, not for myself, but for her. Because she deserves it.”
“That’s very admirable, Hartley.” The petite host smiles.
“My sister is worth it.” She smiles, and I find myself enchanted.
“What is your talent?” Sang asks.
“Skin and beauty. I’m a make-up artist. I work for a department store and freelance for different events and occasions. I also make my own all-natural beauty products.”
Sang turns to me. “She would be a perfect match for our audience,” he whispers.
I nod.
“This must be why your skin is so flawless,” Jiwoo compliments.
“It seems to me that you flatter me,” she says softly.
“Aaaah.” Sang grins, and I know she’s in.
Hartley’s made a positive impression, and her cause is noble. Is it in her nature to continually be caring?
“Can you show us your talent?” Sang asks.
Hartley looks thoughtful. “I did bring my kit. I’d be happy to do a demonstration if someone volunteers.”
“I will go first.” The words are spoken before I can think it through.
“Yoon Kim is volunteering himself,” the host cries. The viewers cheer. “We’ll get the two of you settled in the back and send for your kit. I hope you’re ready to show us what you got.”
“You know it.” She winks. “Hwaiting.”
We return the good luck cry, and I think of all that I can ask her politely as I’m guided off the stage. They lead me to the green room, and I sit down on the couch, eager to meet the woman who’s captured my attention. She walks in a few minutes later with a large, black case.
“Thank you for volunteering. I know it takes a lot to trust someone with your look. I promise to do no more than bring out the best version of you that already exists.”
I smile. “Most seek to cover up flaws.”
Her lips turn down at the corners. “I think our imperfections are what make us unique.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Hart.”
“Yoon.” I hesitate for a moment before holding out my hand. I’m in America, and this is their custom. A spark travels from her hand to mine. I peer up into her eyes and find an equally surprised expression on her face. She felt it, too.
Blinking, she clears her throat. “May I ask a couple of questions?”
“Yes.”
“Is it okay if I cleanse your face quickly to have a clean palette?”
The thought of her hands on me causes a shiver to snake its way up my spine. “Of course.”
Setting her case onto the table, she opens it. “Do you have any allergies?”
“None that I know of.”
She pulls out a spray bottle. “This is a rosewater and witch hazel with vitamin C. It’s wonderful for taking off make-up while adding moisture into the skin. Close your eyes for me.” She steps in front of me. Her scent is slightly sweet and inviting, and her hands are warm and gentle as they cleanse my face.
“You have beautiful skin.” Her warm breath caresses my face, and I catch a hint of mint.