Behind The Desk, Under The Mask
The members here were the city's most powerful—CEOs, politicians, celebrities—all shedding their identities like winter coats.
I leaned back against the plush velvet cushions of a semi-private alcove, my fingers loosely tracing the rim of my glass. The soft, black silk mask pressed comfortably against my skin, hiding the frantic, easily flustered CEO who had spent the day shouting about European tech holdings and debating the merits of vegetarian catering. Here, I didn't have to be the brilliant trillionaire heir to the Miller fortune. I didn't have to carry the pressure of thousands of employees on my shoulders. The mask was liberating in a way I'd never anticipated when I first joined.