Book Masked Singer Novels & Stories

One month ago… “Good Morning people of New York, this is Radio Splash FM and I’m your girl Miranda Lain. Now I’m sure I told everyone last week, that Splash FM will be having an interview with the sensational, one and only, L.K, aka the Masked Queen of New York City. We’re going to be having an impersonal, phone interview to give everyone a chance to know what’s behind the sudden news of a breakup between L.K and her agency. Please, everyone, hold on while we make this call.” *~*~*~* “Over here, she ran over here!” I increase my pace and barge through the emergency doors, running down the stairs with heavy breaths. I stop on the last stair and wait to hear if they’re still chasing after me,

‎One man leans close, mask brushing my ear. ‎Voice low, muffled. ‎“Mikhail sends his best regards.” ‎Fucking bastard. My brain blanks out before I could react as the chemical takes effect. Then nothing. ‎Deep, black abyss. ‎

I was hoping he would get tired of me nagging and would give in. “I want to drive your car!” He mimicked in a high-pitched voice, and I gave him a blank stare. “I don’t sound like that.” I frowned, then sighed in defeat. Michael just grinned and switched the music on. “This is my favorite song!” Michael yelled and cranked up the volume. I looked at him in shock as he started singing to BlackPink. How was this man, a member of a Mafia, singing at the top of his lungs to freaking BlackPink? When he noticed my surprise, he dimmed the volume.

I leave the room with the axe in my right hand, 'dramatic entrances are a must. — Here's your mask, it's in room G — I take the mask Steven offers me and put it on as we head to the room, ready for the show in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. — Call me names and make up all these stories I would kill for a life that ain't boring I'm lots of things but not sorry — I enter singing one of my favorite songs, 'how I love these terrified faces' — Mr. Klaus Fischer, how have they treated you? — I say cheerfully.

I hit the gas again. Tate let out a weak moan and dug her fingers into the seat so hard that her white knuckles glowed even in the darkness around her. But she didn't say a word. She didn't shout, and she didn't curse. She just silently suffered with me. Decayer by Blessthefall just played, and I really smoked it. You need an escort for that madness, don't you think? Tate remained silent. The singer shouted the lyrics of the song straight into our ears, straight into our souls. And I was on the verge of something I may never be able to get back.

I didn’t expect it to be this crowded. "One more thing." Alden reached into his jacket and produced a mask. Black, fine net. He held it out toward me. "It's a masked show. Nobody will know you are here." I took it from his hand and turned it over. “So tonight be whoever you want to be.” It sounded like the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. "Thank you." I said. He smiled slowly, his eyes darken as she leaned closer to my ear. "Don't thank me yet."

I bet you look good in it, too. The bass from the party downstairs thumps through the mattress, a slow, steady beat that matches the pulse in my cock. I lie there, alone in the dark, waiting for the next buzz and it comes too quickly. Barnabythebear: Tomorrow at the rink by 8 PM. Come if you want *wink emoji*

I hadn’t seen him laugh that hard in months; for a muscular man, he seemed to have the mind of a child . Eventually we reached the karaoke place. A red neon “SING YOUR HEART OUT” sign buzzed above the door . Inside, it smelled like cheap beer and bad perfume, but it had charm, sticky floors, disco lights, and a tiny stage with a screen playing low-res lyrics. A group of middle-aged women were screaming their way through “Like a Prayer,” and Michael looked like he’d found heaven. “Oh, we’re doing this,” he said, already thumbing through the song catalog on the touchscreen.

“Moreover… Moreover, not only did they humiliate me, but they… They even hit me!” “Right now, my… My face is already swollen… after getting hit by them…” “But in a few days… I’ll have to attend Quinn’s concert as her… as her special guest…” “Face… If my face is so swollen, when the time comes… How could I possibly meet people like that?” “I… I cannot possibly… I cannot possibly be wearing a face mask… and impersonate a masked singer, right?”

Even with half his face hidden behind a simple black mask, there was something familiar about him. "Holy shit," Mary breathed. "Is that—" "Next!" the bouncer called, cutting her off. Mary flashed him a dazzling smile, passing over our tickets. The bouncer barely glanced at his tablet before nodding us through. As the heavy door swung open, a wall of sound and heat hit us like a physical force. "Remember," Mary shouted over the music, "tonight, you're not Emilia the overlooked engineer. You're whoever you want to be!" With that, she disappeared into the writhing crowd, leaving me alone in a sea of masked strangers.