Masquerade Inspo Novels & Stories

he started to answer, then chuckled, "you do know that no one uses their real name here, don't you? ...oh no... "I don't understand," I said slowly. "That's kind of the benefit of being here. It's a Masquerade ball. The whole point is to enjoy being someone else." So he could be anybody... "Enjoy being someone else? Like, completely opposite who you really are?" "Well, I don't know about that. It's rather up to each person. But, really, don't you ever get tired of just—being the person you have to be? Sometimes we need to take a breath and make ourselves someone else."

Pockmark Mask now. ***

I stood in front of the full-length mirror while she circled around me like an artist inspecting a painting she hadn’t quite finished. She tugged lightly at the sleeves of the oversized black hoodie she’d made me wear before stepping back with a satisfied nod. A black face mask covered the lower half of my face, while the hood hid most of my hair. The faded blue jeans and plain sneakers completed the disguise, leaving very little about me recognizable. I stared at my reflection for several long seconds before slowly turning toward her. “So…” I lifted my hands and looked down at myself. “This was your brilliant plan?” Mara grinned proudly.

I needed full anonymity. “Yes,” I said again, firmer this time. “But tonight, I want one.” She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “All right. A mask it is. What color?” Anything but red, nearly slipped from my lips. But that may give away too much and leave room for questions. “What colors are available?” “Five. Blue, green, white, yellow, and red.” Blue was always Moira’s courtesan signature identity, both in Pleasur’io and now in Naked Den. Taking it would be like impersonating her, and the very idea left a sour taste in my mouth.

I wear a black dress and a gold mask that covers my eyes and half my face and I take a car there alone, which Marcus protests and which I do anyway, and I walk into the basement space at ten-thirty and the music is very loud and very good and the lighting is precisely the kind that makes everyone look like a better version of themselves. I accept champagne. I breathe. For thirty minutes, in the specific anonymity of a gold mask in a room full of people in masks, I am not Vivian Ashford. I am not the Forbes article or the Vanity Fair piece or the trending hashtag or the woman who was photographed crying in a parking structure or the woman who threw her phone in a pool or the woman who was in

Correction: the masked model was trending. I blinked. Scrolled. Stared. A masked model had just shut down a major red carpet event—and spoiler alert—it wasn’t me. I sat up straighter. Who the actual hell was out there parading around in my persona? In my look? Pretending to be me? Oh. Hell. No.

“Nope. Didn’t you check our mail?” I stared at the abomination in his hand like it had personally insulted my ancestors. “Well, lucky for you, I came prepared.” He raised an eyebrow. “Oh no.” “Oh yes.” I turned, dramatically. “Bob! Masks!” Right on cue, Bob strutted over like he’d just stepped off a runway in Milan instead of... wherever we were. He handed me a box like it contained the crown jewels. Inside: sleek, custom-designed masks that said we RSVP'd with style.

I wanted to rip the mask off, to let him see the monster and the woman, and to lose myself in the heat of his embrace. But as his fingers moved toward the silk ribbons at the back of my head, a cold splash of reality hit me. I am a murderer, I reminded myself. I am an impostor in a dead girl's palace. He is a man of the South, a man of secrets. If I let him see me—truly see me—I would lose the only armor I had left. The power of my eyes was my greatest weapon, but my mask was my greatest shield. Just as his fingers brushed the knot of the ribbon, I grabbed his wrist. My grip was unnaturally strong, fueled by the desperation of a cornered animal.

she laughs "like they say these days faking it in style." I give her a confused look "what?" "You know, when you're in a fake relationship, these days that's what everyone's doing." "Well, I'm only doing this for mom, and trust me I will not develop falling for him." "My dear friend, you're saying that now, but when the time comes you'll be dying for his touch, his kiss, his scent, his di- ah" I shot her with Levi's water gun. That damn dirty mouth girl. "Charlotte you bitch," she curses, ask I continue to shot her.

Shit, this makes me nervous. "Before you go inside, you must use this, ma'am. Tonight is a special night of the month when we do this masquerade party. So, anyone can meet others without knowing his or her identity." Josh gives me a white lace mask. "Okay, so no one will know me?" "Yes, correct, and here, use this bracelet. Enjoy your night, ma'am." Lucky for me. Not even Selene or Gabriel can't identify me. This is so good.