‘Ahh, yes, the masquerade, can’t wait,’ he says, pulling a bit of a face.
‘Our pre-show launch parties can get pretty wild too,’ I point out. ‘It must be a TV thing. But God knows how people will act with anonymity.’
He leans in just a little, I’m sure he does.
‘It’s a good way to let someone know how you feel,’ he points out. ‘Without… exposing yourself.’
‘Always better to do that without exposing yourself,’ I reply, deadpan.
He laughs, the sound low and warm.
‘Not like that. But then again…’ He pauses, watching me closely. ‘Sometimes your gut feeling is right. And you should just ask. I should just ask.’
‘Ask what?’
‘Dinner,’ he says. ‘After the party. You, me, somewhere that isn’t here – and a food without crusts.’
My instinct is – of course – to say no, like always. Keep it safe. Keep the walls up. And yet he keeps asking. Plus, he’s right. I have to trust someone at some point. Maybe Lockie is the one – the one I should trust, that is. I’ve been kidding myself, pretending there isn’t something here, simmering beneath every argument, every brush of hands. I could try… maybe…?
‘Okay,’ I hear myself say out loud. Somehow I feel like my lips acted before my brain had truly finished overthinking it.
Lockie smiles.
‘Great,’ he says, leaning back again. ‘It’s a date.’
It sounds like it is, and the worst part? I think I’m looking forward to it.
7
I’m late. And I know what you’re thinking: Cleo, why did you spend so long doing your make-up for a party where you’ll be wearing a mask? But I have my dinner date with Lockie after, and I wanted to have the best chance of still looking my best, at the end of the night, when the masks finally come off.
I’m not the only reason I’m late though, oh no, because whenever I want things to go right, that’s when they go wrong. My bus broke down too. I ended up sitting there for ages, waiting for a replacement service, clutching myEyes Wide Shutmask, until eventually I resorted to getting a taxi, and walking the last little stretch. So here I am, huffing and puffing down the street, pounding the pavement with my platform heels.
Tonight just… feels like it matters more than it usually would. Not the party itself, not really – I’ve been to so many of these things and it’s always the same endless supply of champagne, arse-kissing and bad choices.
It’s a good chance to get into a good spot with Lockie – we’re going to be living on a boat together, which would be better if we were on more level terms, but… I don’t know, going to dinner with him, putting some trust in him, it feels like a step that I need to take, to finally get some closure, to move on with my life.
I really did spend an embarrassing amount of time getting ready, standing in front of the mirror, talking myself in and out of alternate dresses, because the one I bought just felt so big and fancy and I went from feeling a million dollars to thinking I looked like a kid playing dress up to realising it was the only thing I could realistically wear if I wanted to fit in. Which reminds me, I have to put every item of clothing I own back in my wardrobe before I can go to bed tonight.
I’m wearing a floor-length black slip dress, simple but clinging in the right places – aided by one of those oxygen-stealing undergarments that round up all your lumps and bumps. I opted for a big, chunky platform heel, because I thought it would give me the height needed to make my legs looks longer and slimmer, but also a good base for planting them on the floor. I’m not my best in stiletto-type heels and the last thing I need is to stack it in front of everyone.
Then of course I have my mask – can’t forget that for a masquerade ball – but the pièce de résistance has to be the ridiculous pink feather boa from that cursed box of adult-only promo supplies. Well, Lockie said he liked it, so I think it will really make him laugh. Plus, you know, I want him to know that I’m thinking of him, that I heard him when he said he liked it – this is my version of a white flag (it’s just pink and feathery instead). If he can make an effort then so can I. And, no, I’m not usually this brave, not even before I got my heart broken, so this is a big deal. I’m putting myself out there and I’ve no idea what’s going to happen, but I’m hoping several glasses of champagne will help.
I reach the venue, my stomach fizzing with nerves, and hand over my ticket. The bouncer eyes the boa but says nothing. Oh, right, because at a party where everyone is wearing a mask, a few pink feathers are worthy of raising eyebrows.
Inside, the masquerade is in full swing. It’s like stepping into another world: chandeliers dripping light across the ballroom, the air thick with perfume and booze. Everyone’s masked, faces half-hidden behind satin, sequins, polished metals. You just know a bunch of people already had these masks at home… for various reasons.
Women glitter in floor-length gowns, the men are all scrubbed up well in tuxedos – I guess it’s nice, to have a reason to dress up now and then.
There’s a string quartet playing fancy versions of pop songs, which I like, and you can’t look anywhere without seeing a server with a tray of food or drinks, which I love.
The vibe is reality TV meetsThe Great Gatsbymeets some kind of bougie swingers’ party. I’m here for it. Well, I am now – late.
The party has definitely hit its stride. Everyone looks like they’re having a great time, camera crews are hovering discreetly, and already I can see people vying for attention, and potential airtime. The thing is we don’t really broadcast it, sometimes we put a few snippets of this online but, for the most part, the party is just a party. A reason to get drunk and touch each other.
Speaking of which… I’m looking around for Lockie but I can’t see him anywhere. It’s a big room, full of a lot of people, but the masks are obviously making it a lot harder.
A camera crew pass me, briefly pointing the camera at me, which I hate – I’m almost glad to have the mask on. My heart pounds but I don’t think it’s the cameras, it’s Lockie, I’m excited to see him. I’ve tried to let my guard down a bit, to make just enough room to let just a bit of him in (that didn’t sound quite so bad until I finished the thought) but my defences have come all the way down, it was that or nothing, so I guess it’s that.
