It was the longest week of work I'd ever experienced, Saturday couldn't come fast enough. As always my creative mind went off while my subconscious dealt with the grunt work, but instead of speeding up the day it all just stretched out the time now I had an actual, real time event to look forward to.
I felt my phone go off in my pocket. As I felt for it, I sensed I was being watched. It was Carol, one of my colleagues further down the room.
"Just answer it," she called out. "We've been waiting for you to have a quick skive like a normal person."
It was a text from Maise:
"I need to suggest some music for them to play when we make our entrance. Any ideas?"
A track came to mind that I'd first heard played at the goth nights I used to attend, I danced to it the last time I wore the outfit Maise had sawed me in. It had stuck around in my playlists since and seemed appropriate for the occasion. I found it on YouTube and texted back the link.
Four and a half minutes later, a blank text came through, followed by a little row of dots. Then came;
"It's perfect."
A short while later, a new text arrived.
"This is our song now."
There was a picture attached to the message, a selfie of Maise pointing out badly run mascara. It was clear she'd been crying.
When Saturday finally arrived, we went out for a pedicure (me, a pedicure! I really had been corrupted), had lunch at an art deco restaurant overlooking the park and returned home to start getting ready. Maise had picked up the dresses the day before and they were beautiful, soft billows of silk and satin perfectly flattering every curve.
Maise's was silvery grey. Mine was burgundy.
Maise did my makeup and hair. When she was finished, I tried on my mask, exquisitely decorated in sequins and silk embroidery. The doomed Sofia gazed back at me through the dressing table mirrors, sending a rush down my spine.
We went in Maise's car. That's the problem with underground clubs in secret locations, calling a cab isn't an option. But we made the most of the walk down the stairs together, our masks hidden away in our handbags. Robert was stood in his doorway and gave us a tiny round of applause. Maise stuck her tongue out at him. Then I noticed that Richard's door was ever so slightly ajar.
"Coo-ee, Richard!"I called out. The door was pulled closed hurriedly.
"My god, what did you do to him?" asked Maise.
I told her what I'd added to the carrot note before sending it back.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," she said.
We travelled out of the city for some miles, turning off the main road just as the last rays of the winter sun were setting. We zigzagged around unlit back roads, copses and farm buildings lurking in the darkness at every turn. Until eventually we took a hard left and the road became an uneven track through trees and bare fenceless fields. After a couple of miles we entered a wide ring of woodland. As we came through the trees dim lights appeared of a large house flanked by outbuildings.
We pulled up next to a group of other cars parked in front of the house. Maise flicked on the internal lamp on the car and pulled down the vanity mirror on her sunshield. I did likewise. We took the masks from our handbags, fitted them in place and Maise and Lexie became Anna and Sofia.
Inside the front door of the house was a reception desk staffed by two masked people in evening dress. Anna (my Maise) took a discreet folding card from her handbag and gave it to them.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Love Me To The End
सामान्य साहित्यLexie is gender non-conforming horror geek, a dreamer with a deathwish. Through her lover Maise she discovers the Mortal Masquerade, an underground club centred around playful mock death scenes and flamboyant masked avatars, headed by the mysterious...
