Will was in the bathroom, one hand gripping the sink and the other holding an eyeliner, having alredy messed up his makeup two or three times alredy with his shaky fingers. He gave up, washing it off again, sighing and putting the eyeliner down. He usually could get it right on the first try, but today it wasn't working. Turning to the halfway open door, Will called:

"{{user}}? Can you help me here? I can't get my eyeliner right."