The Masked Singer

The Masked Truth (Preview)

Chapter Two

I say my final goodbyes to Alex and board the aeroplane and begin my journey home. There's no fancy leaving ceremony, no paparazzi just a plain old exit from the past few months of excitement. However, I still get my first class spot on the plane – so it's not the plain Jane approach.

I get comfortable in my chair and stare out the window at my surroundings before they disappear. I'm not looking forwards to my break ending, but who does? I'm not excited about returning to school, not after what I've experienced. But it's inevitable, famous or not. I could pursue this career without the rest of my high school education, but then the last eleven almost twelve years of my life would have been for nothing.

The certificate may just be a piece of paper, but it's an important piece of paper that symbolised more – I'd actually managed to survive the jungle of high school and come out on top. It's not the best learning experience, but those mean girl bullies really set you up for the future.

For the trip back, I packed an assortment of things to keep me amused until landing. I'd packed books to read and draw in, cards to play and downloaded apps on my phone to play if all else failed. I'm hoping for a technology free time space so that I can enjoy the other aspects of life. I'm not sure when I'm going to have free time to read a book or draw a picture again.

I open up my scrap book and start scribbling little drawings around the page and write short lyric quotes under the pictures as I draw them. As I look out the window, I see the sun setting and scribble a horrible attempt of a half circle dipping into a straight shaded line. Underneath I write, 'today might have ended but tomorrow's yet to come.' Followed by, 'goodbye isn't forever when hello is around the corner.'

The urge to sing the words is hard to fight. I want to know what these lyrics sound aloud and not muffled by my thoughts. Everything always sounds better in your head, but your ears are the tools that pick up on the deception.

Pressing forwards with the song, I write down another line. 'You might have gone away, but I'll see you again.' When nothing else comes to mind, I shut my book and place it on the chair next to me. I can't decide what to write next and thinking about it is frustrating. I prefer those rare moments where the words flow through your body, out of your fingertips and onto the page. I love the idea of getting lost in a world in my head and not realizing until later.

I didn't manage to find a second to change into comfortable clothing for the flight back home. In-between interviews, car tips and spending time with Alex, the time seemed to have fallen through my fingers and vanished. Thankfully, I've managed to cram a second set of clothing in my carry-on bag.

My fingers find the seat buckle and press on the red ejection button. I push the loose seatbelt off my lap and stand up. I grab my bag from the overhead apartment and head down the corridor to change.

Most of people around me are older men dressed in business suits, others casual but expensive clothing. I expect to have people looking at me as I walk down – but everyone seems to be consumed by either technology or paper work. At least I know the bathroom will be free.

I open the bathroom door and go inside the small tight fitting cubical. I lock the door and tug on the handle to double check. When the door rattles against the frame, I move to check out my surroundings.

There's a toilet behind me, a bench with a sink and mirror in front of me. There's no space for my bag, so I place it in the sink so I don't have to crouch down – not that I would be able to.

I begin to dig through the bag and pull out my clothing. Previously when I was organising my suitcase with Ava, I decided to pack a pair of slip on shoes, black skinny jeans, singlet and a jumper with the lyrics, 'I'm dead inside, you make me feel alive.' I strip out of my flesh coloured stockings, skirt and top and scrunch the clothing articles and jam them back into the bag and then slip on my other clothing. It's a bit hard to put the jeans on, but I manage to with the expense of hitting my hip against the bench and my leg on the toilet bowl.