Behind The Mask

Eva

It all began a few years ago when I obtained my master's degree in journalism. After suffering a few setbacks, I was a bit older than the average student. However, I loved writing, it was my passion in life, or at least, was until my life took me down a new path when I turned twenty-five.

I work for an online magazine, Stranger Things, writing about all sorts of things from strange disappearances to the possibility of the existence of aliens. I enjoy the strange and unusual because I, myself, have become the strange and unusual. Working there fosters my creativity and allows me to do a bit of research and investigative work too, which I enjoy the most, because I love learning and exploring. All of these reasons are why this became my perfect career and second home; Katie being my first home.

I have long, very dark, ash blonde hair and bright, sage green eyes. I have pale skin with a few tattoos and piercings. I don't post photos of myself in the magazine unless I'm wearing a disguise, because I prefer to keep myself hidden as best as I can. I even use a pseudonym, too. It's Midnight Rose, because I'm a night owl. I always have been. Plus, there's beauty in the night. I chose a rose because it's beautiful, yet has a certain harshness represented by its thorns, and also, roses are pretty resilient, just like me.

I live in an apartment building with my good friend Katie Smith. Katie has dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. She's so bubbly that it's infectious. We met freshman year of high school/college, and have been best friends ever since. She's my only family. I was an orphan and knew nothing about my family. All I know is that they're all dead, and I suffer from nightmares as proof. I grew up in the system. I was smart and hardworking, so I was able to put myself through college. Katie is finishing up her Master's in Education while substitute teaching at the local high school. Even though she's a few years younger than I, we get along wonderfully.

Katie comes in holding a box. “Hey girl, you got a package.”

My eyebrows shoot up, “Really?” She throws it at me, and I begin to examine it. “Funny, it has no return address. I wonder who sent it?” Katie suggests that I open it to see if there's a note inside. It's a plausible idea, so I quickly opened it. I pull out a golden, ornate mask. “Wow, it's beautiful.”

“Hey, Eva, look, there is a note!” Katie cheered.

I take it and read it aloud. You are cordially invited to "Experience The Night," a Masquerade Gala at St. John's Cathedral, this Friday night, from dusk till dawn.

“Sounds interesting. You should go to work because it might give you some cool ideas for a story,” Katie said.

“Katie, I'm not going alone. You’re coming with me.” I won't go if she doesn't come with me.

She sighs, “But they only invited you.”

I respond, “The fine print says may bring a ‘guest’.” So we went shopping. We found our dresses and a mask for her to wear. We both chose red dresses. Mine was a mermaid-cut floor-length dress with golden beading and appliques. Hers was a red, floor-length, A-line dress that fades to black towards the bottom. I always feel out of place when I dress formally. I feel like I'm playing dress-up. Before I knew it, it was the night of the gala.

“Damn, you look hot! If I were into girls, we wouldn't be leaving right now,” Katie exclaimed, as she saw me leave my room.

I can't help but laugh, “Haha, you look sexy yourself.” Katie is boy-crazy still. She chases after romance, but it never pans out for her. M I'm the opposite. I don't look for love. I'm more career-driven. I figure love will find me at some point. I'm only turning 26 later this year, so I've got plenty of time. I date occasionally, don't get me wrong, but there's yet to be anyone that I'd trust with my life, especially after how things ended with Victor Van Clay. Until that day comes, I'm fine being a happily single loner.

Katie and I hop into my car, ready to see what adventures tonight brings us, as we head over to the gala. I opted for no purse, since my dress had pockets. I snapped a few pictures of us outside and in front of the church. When we get inside, we are blown away. I take many pictures of the elegantly decorated interior. There were tables for dining and a dance floor. There was also a more intimate area, with small high-top cocktail tables. Guests were standing around them; I assume that's where we hang out until the hosts have us move to the dining area. I'd been to a few fancy parties, so I understood basic etiquette.

“This is just, wow,” she said.

“I know, right? Just stay cool and follow my lead,” I replied, to show the confidence that I lacked.

Katie scans the room, “Check out these guests, they're all hot!”

“Katie, they're just people like us,” I retorted, but I'm not so sure that they're all like us. I have this odd feeling that begins to creep into my soul.

“Eva, very sexy, beautiful people. No wonder they invited you. You fit right in.”

I roll my eyes, “Whatever.” She can be so over-the-top.

“Come on! No, you're one of the hottest people here. The sexiest woman, by far!” she says, as we move through the throngs of people.

I squeezed her hand, “You have to say that because you're my best friend.”

“That's bullshit and you know it!” she says, as she grabs herself a glass of champagne. I roll my eyes because there's no use arguing with her when she gets like this. I grabbed a glass of red wine and took a sip. “Oh, this wine is to die for!”

She took my glass from my hand, “If it is so good you'd die for it, then let me have a sip.”

I giggled, “I would not die or kill for it, but it's very good. It's beautifully balanced with flavors of peach and mirabelle plum, with soft oak notes, and a long finish. Quite good and very smooth, too. I'd say it's European, maybe from Austria or Hungary.”

“Eva, you know that I don't like red wines, but this one, I do like,” she said, as she took another sip before handing me back my glass. I clink my glass with hers as I smile.

A smooth, deep voice spoke from just behind me, “You're quite right, Miss. You could be a sommelier.” I instinctively turn to the voice. My eyes lock with his. Wow! The man before me, dressed in a fine black suit, has a head full of silky hair that's blacker than a starless night. His dark tendrils frame his pale, chiseled face, with plump pink lips, to boot. His eyes are bluer than any ocean that I have seen. I wish I could see him without the mask. He's a God among men, and way out of my league. Hell, he's not even in the same sport! He says, “Pardon my manners. I am Vincent Black.”

Katie and I introduced ourselves to Vincent. She asked if he was the host. He said that he was not, but he was acquainted with him. I can't help but think that Vincent knows more than he's saying, so I decide to ask what’s on my mind, “Do you know who invited me here? Some of the people I've seen around the city, but I wouldn't consider them and myself in the same social circles, much less worthy of sharing the same room.”

He seems perplexed by my statement, “You seem very much at home here, though. Perhaps, you sell yourself short.”

Katie laughs before she glares at me, “I tell her that daily.” There's something different about this guy. Yes, he's handsome beyond measure, but his eyes… They are deeper than the sea, and they hold a secret within their depths. This man has walls up, much like I do. I wonder why? His voice is smooth as silk and velvety soft. Katie seems mesmerized, as if she's in a trance.

“Hey, Katie!” I snap my fingers until she looks at me. “I think the champagne is going to your head.” Vincent looks into my eyes like he's trying to tell me something. I return the look with one of my "What the fuck do you think you're doing" looks, causing him to take a step back. Based on my weird feeling and what I write about, this guy can't be human, can he?

He raises his eyebrow at me, “Interesting, very interesting.”

Nevertheless, I lean over and whisper, “I don't appreciate what you tried on my friend or me. I suggest you not try again and explain yourself.” Because I'm just guessing that he tried to read our minds.

He whispers into my ear, and it causes goosebumps to appear, “Eva, I'm afraid you wouldn't believe me if I tried.”

I want to know. I'm not afraid, but maybe I should be, “Then show me. After all, seeing is believing.”