Anonymity had its perks. At least, it did for me. That's why I was there at the Rocco Club Gala, wearing a mask like every other person about the dance floor. A masquerade ball was just what I needed - to have some fun without having to be in the limelight.
Being famous is the America dream. To have your name up in lights is what everyone travels to Hollywood for. To lose friends for. To do anything for. To die for. A lucky break and maybe you don't have to work that hard. That's what happened to me.
I had always had a passion for singing. I learned the guitar and piano by age 10, not because my parents pushed me but because I insisted. I began to publish videos on the Internet when I got into my teens. They featured me singing popular songs, and down the line, more people began to notice.
In the rising Internet fame I became friendly with a boy my age, Adam, who lived across the world in Australia. We chatted for two years and fell madly in love with each other. But, being so young and far apart, we knew we'd never make the relationship work. Ah, I'm going off track. Let's just say that once I got discovered and we reached age 18, we stopped chatting.
Now it's my name that is up in lights. I am a household name. I'm entity famous. And it tires me out. That's why I picked tonight to just be someone else. Not 25-year-old Nova Mead but a nameless woman, happy and carefree. Forget all ties to my life and let the flow of the music take me.
The club pulsed with eccentric, seductive vibes. I rolled my hips in time with the music, my eyes peaking out through the gold mask adorning my face. Strobe lights lapped feverishly at my senses, synced with the heated music. People bumped and slid against me as I danced.
Tired and panting, I slid through the crowd, off of the dance floor and into an empty booth. The giant atrium of a club housed many closed off private sections, booths, tables, and resting areas there was more than enough to accommodate everyone. Otherwise, it might have been quite odd to see such a comfortable seating arrangement ripe for the taking.
I downed a glass of water, not really one for the saltiness of drinking alcohol. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the red leather cushion.
A very male voice interrupted my relaxation, "All alone?"
Ah, another lame pick-up line guy. What is it, the fifth time that night? I opened my eyes slowly to drink in a handsome man. He was tall. Even though I was sitting down, I felt I needed to look up higher than normal. He wore a black suit, a skinny black tie hanging off of his neck, as per most of the men here. His mask was also black, except for the red lines coming from the eyes. It covered his cheekbones, which saved me his strong jaw and startling blue eyes to admire. His dark, unkempt hair contrasted the neat suit greatly.
It took me two seconds to assess him before I answered, "Why? Have you come to save me from my lonesome heart?" I smirked playfully.
He grinned crookedly at me, leaning on the edge of the booth, "I suppose you could call it that. Or you can just call it two people enjoying each other's company." He held out a waiting hand and raised an eyebrow, "Now, shall we dance?"
It was refreshing to see someone who wasn't annoyingly over-confident. Of course, he knew he was attractive and he knew that he could get any girl in this club. But he didn't boast about it with a puffed out chest.
I told myself to stop analyzing it and just let go. Smiling, I slid from the booth and took his hand, "Can I know your name?" I asked curiously, following his lead to the dance floor.
"Don't like to follow the rules of a masquerade ball?" I heard him chuckle, a sexy hum over the music. "Just call me X."
Anonymity. I was starting to like this guy. "Variables, huh?" I laughed.
He raised my hand and spun me around, surprising me as he pulled me taut against his body. Oh. I felt his muscles undulate as X placed his hands on my hips. I put some space between us and we instantly started dancing, moving to the high and low beats of the music. Some moves were intricate, advanced steps, while others were simply club-like casual motions. A few dips, a few spins, and a couple hands in all the right places had me having the time of my life.
After a while, a slow song came on. We smiled at each other and pressed close, feeling each other's warmth. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he placed his hands on my hips. I felt like it was just me and him as the world faded away.
"So tell me, X. Where'd you learn to dance like that?" I pondered, my eyes roaming his jaw and perfectly carved lips, finally flicking to his blue orbs.
X stared at me, "I've always had a passion for everything. Why not learn a thing about dancing here and there?" His shoulders lifted slightly in a shrug.
I nodded, "It's a good skill to have. Every woman loves a man who can carry himself like that."
His thumbs made circles on my waist, "Do you?" We had stopped dancing and were just staring at each other. We both began to lean into one another, our lips merely inches apart.
In an instant I was on the ground, slammed into by a large and clearly drunk man. Before I could react, my mask had skidded across the floor and I was exposed to the world.
"Shit," I muttered. I looked up to gauge X's reaction but could only catch a glimpse of his shocked expression before a woman stepped into my view.
She squealed excitedly, "It's Nova!" Her blonde head whipped to the side angrily, "You drunken idiot! You hurt her!"
The woman helped me up. And then everyone wanted a piece of me. Some were overly excited, others wanted to schmooze for publicity.
A voice boomed over the speakers, "Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we have a true star in the house tonight!" People cheered and started pushing me towards the stage. "Nova, why don't you give us a little bit of that sweet sound you got? Maybe a samplin' of your next album?"
My heart deflated inside. My fifteen minutes of unfame was up. I sighed and smiled brightly, an expression that I had honed. The black man with the microphone pulled me on stage and handed me it, grinning, "Show us what you got."
I put the microphone to my lips and did as I was told.
And so begun a long night of many requests and cheers. They paid me big bucks to sing, and after a swift phone call with my manager, she insisted I perform. But I found my mind drifting to X during my last-minute show.
Why? My anonymous night was over. I was Nova again. And Nova was in a committed, happy relationship with a successful surgeon. There were no more variables.
The club had finally cleared out after I hid behind the club between acts. It seemed childish but I was exhausted.
After I made sure the last person cleared out, I did the same, throwing off my heels and running to the nearby beach. I hadn't been there in years. It was a private beach, which my Aunt Jen had owned until it was the bank took it. Surprisingly enough, it hadn't been purchased yet.
