Mased Confidence

[:::: Authors Note ::::]

As humans there are a few different views that we project on the people we interact with. Sure, we all like to think we are as honest in public as we are at home or by ourselves, but the truth is that we all project a different perception of ourselves depending upon the circumstances we are in or the people we are talking to. Some of us hide behind masks, our experiences driving us to behave differently to what we see as our true selves.

As always, thank you to my editing team. They always do a great job of catching a lot of my mistakes, and I do like to tinker up to the point of release, so the spelling and grammatical mistakes are all mine. If you want to pick on syntax, that's your right, just don't expect me to respond to hate mail around that, I'll ignore it in favour of just enjoying writing a story.

It's been a couple of years now, and I have enjoyed sharing a little of my journey in the notes I put in these stories. Beth, my amazing wife also constantly asks me how I'm feeling, am I enjoying the process, does continuing to write help me with my struggles? I have taken a few days and when I started writing this, I was still pondering those questions.

Just to let you know, this is a cut down version of the full version, about 35,000 words, but I think it gives everyone the core of the story.

Lastly, In response to a number of private messages and emails that I have received from all of you and discussions with my beautiful wife, Beth. Yes, I am still immensely enjoying the process of creating stories, characters, scenarios and pushing the 'Otherverse' as some have termed it.

I think I still have more to give, even to those that don't like my style.

Now with that said, I hope that you enjoy this one.

[:::: Masked Confidence ::::]

[:::: 1 - Tom - Reflection ::::]

Success.

In my experience, the word success is a fickle term. It can mean different things. It could mean you're doing well, you're meeting your goals, or it could also mean rising above the expectations that you set for yourself or by those around you. But success is often only a few moments from failure. When someone praises you for your success you can often bet that once the words have left their mouths, they're often also looking for you to slip up, to knock you off your pedestal.

For the past two and a half years I had worked for Capital Brokerage, one of Sydney's top brokerage firms. For the first six months I worked as an analyst. However, for the last two, I have been rapidly promoted up the ladder as my trades have made more profit and generated more outcomes for the company than anyone else in the firm's history.

Not every one of my trades are winners, but enough are that I've been called successful.

Today, I have an apartment overlooking the world-famous Sydney Harbour Bridge. I am walking distance to our office and any number of pubs, clubs, and entertainment venues. I have a car that turns heads, and I work out at the gym a number of times each week. I am fitter than ever. By anyone's estimation, I am a success.

But in my mind, I don't feel like it.

Tonight is one such night. I finished my shopping earlier, and now I'm sitting on my balcony, hearing the never-ending traffic of the Sydney business district. The cars, trams, businesses, and people revelling or yelling. I have a nice wine, a merlot that I have grown fond of, in one hand and a picture of myself and others in the other.

No, I reflect, looking at the picture of happier times. I am not successful; I am a failure. If I were a success, then we would all still be together, I wouldn't be alone.

[:::: 2 - Traci - The Mask Slips ::::]

"Good morning, Tom," I greet our company's rising star with a smile. Tom is an amazing example of masculinity. Aside from his intellect and endearing nature, he is tall and broad-shouldered, and it seems like every follicle of the thick lustre of his brown hair is in place yet moves naturally with his body. He's fit and toned under his suit, and everyone knows he spends at least three hours in the gym several times a week.

Adding to this, Tom came in and unbidden this morning, placing a large coffee on my desk.

"Good morning, Traci," he said, looking me directly in the eyes, making my heart beat just a little faster. "A large, half-strength almond milk latte with a single pump of caramel," he rattled off, his entire demeanour again causing my breath to catch.

"Thank you..." I started to say, and then I stopped. I was looking into his eyes, those big brown expressive eyes. We ladies loved Tom's bedroom eyes. But this morning, while there was a smile on his face, his eyes told a different story. You would need to know him, know how he moved, and express himself to see it, but there was something off about him this morning. I could see it in his eyes.

"Traci?" he said a moment later, and I blinked. When I looked back at him, the pain and sorrow were gone, and he was back to being Tom. What had just happened?

"Uh, Sorry, Tom. I was just going to say what a doll you are," I said, recovering and placing a silly grin on my face. "Those tickets to the opera last weekend, that they just happened to turn up on my desk with a coffee just like this, were greatly appreciated."

"Well," he said, and this time, the smile reached his eyes. While I can neither confirm nor deny where the tickets came from, I can tell you that I overheard your mother was coming to town and loved opera."

I blushed.

"She was here, and she loved the show, we both did," I replied. Then I looked around conspiratorially and mouthed, 'Thank you.'

Tom nodded, picking up his briefcase before heading for his desk. He greeted several of his fellow traders on the way. I took a sip of my coffee and sighed, perfect like always.

But just now there was something there. I knew it wasn't my imagination, I know I saw it. The mask he wore had slipped and beneath it was a man in pain. As I sipped my coffee, I daydreamed that I could be the one to help him with that pain. But then I chastised myself for thinking that way, if he knew my own past. Damm it, I knew it would never happen, but a girl can dream.

Moments later, the first customer of the day showed up, so putting aside my personal thoughts I once again became the welcoming face of Capital Brokerage.

[:::: 3 - Tom - Cheat Day ::::]

My week passed slowly, and I was feeling a little off thanks to my interactions with Traci. However, it was now Saturday morning, and last night, I had been Latin dancing at a club on George St until around midnight. In the beginning, it was just me and a few of the office team, but it didn't take long before I was dancing with various women who had seen me enjoying myself.

Saturday morning was an all-body workout for me. I woke early, dressed, and made my way to the gym, where I worked my core, lifted for a while, and pushed hard on both my legs and arms. It didn't have the intensity of my other workouts throughout the week, but I always had a nice burn by the time I finished, and then I was free to enjoy my favourite indulgence of the week.

Like most capital cities, Sydney has its hidden gems, bars and restaurants that some people swear by and others hate with a passion. But there is something for everyone, and for me, on Saturday morning after a workout, it was Pow's Chinese.

Pow's had an all you can eat buffet that I couldn't go past. So still clad in my workout gear, I bought one of their large plates and filled it to the brim with every dish they had. Fried rice, omelette, honey chicken, sweet and sour pork, Mongolian beef. The owners were an older Chinese couple that despite the fast-food nature of the cuisine, knew their flavours and cared about their product. On top of the not so healthy meal, I always bought a bottle of coke. The full sugar one, not diet. Together, the meal and the drink were my cheat for the week, and I looked forward to it from the moment I left the gym, sometimes getting two or even three plates of food.

I know I was making almost obscene sounds as I was finishing off my third plate when I saw her exit the store, and our eyes met.

She hesitated for a moment before she made her decision and strode over to me.

"Hi Tom, how are you today?" Traci asked me. I still had not eaten anything more of my meal since we noticed each other.

She was wearing a black gym top that hugged a good-sized chest and exposed her toned abs. And she was wearing those very form-fitting, black yoga leggings. Her deep red hair was tied up in a ponytail and her blue eyes sparkled like she had just been found as the prettiest girl at the ball

"Uh, Good," I stammered out. "How are you? Shopping?"

She giggled, "Yeah, I need a new outfit for my cousin's wedding in a couple of weeks, so after my workout, I thought I would see what I could find."

She eyed my plate.

"You look like you're enjoying that?" she told me.

I smiled at her, "It's my cheat meal of the week. It's some of the best Chinese food in Sydney, in my opinion."

"Leave your bags and grab a plate. I recommend the rice and chicken pieces. Drizzle them with a little lemon sauce, and they're delicious."

She sat back down a few minutes later with a modest plate and smiled at me, picking up a drumstick that was covered in the sauce and taking a bite.

"Oh my God," she moaned a moment later. "You weren't kidding Tom. I wasn't expecting much, but this is amazing."

As we ate, I learned that she was shopping for outfits as she was heading to Brisbane to attend her cousin Stefan's wedding. But she admitted she wasn't looking forward to it as Traci hinted that there may be some people there that she didn't get along with.

"So, the wedding?" I asked, trying to keep us talking. Are you being partnered with someone?"

It was an innocent question, but again there was pain instantly written all over her features, and she shook her head sadly. I was screwing this up royally.

"No, I mean they gave me a plus one, but I will just be going by myself."

"Well, how about if I come, I can be your plus one?"

She shook her head, and I was a little disappointed. I mean I don't know why I offered, but I thought she would jump at the chance. But then a moment later, her eyes went wide.

"Wait, what?" she said suddenly, unable to take her gaze off me. "Did you just say you'll come with me?"

I shrugged and ate the remaining spring roll on my plate, now almost cold.

"Um Tom," Traci said a few moments later as she recovered, fortunately I don't think she caught my last sentence. "You know if you come with me, everyone will see you as my date?"

"Well yeah?" I replied.

"Date," she said seriously, "As in you and I together?"

I laughed, taking the final swig from my bottle of coke, finishing off my less-than-healthy meal. "I get that Traci. Let them talk. As far as you and I are concerned, we're just good friends and I am coming to support you."

Later at home I wondered. I had seen the hesitation. There was more to this wedding than Traci was letting on. She was obligated to go, indeed, from what we had discussed she was going above and beyond with purchasing new clothes, cosmetics and such. But underneath it all, I could sense something else.

Dread.

Traci was scared shitless to attend this wedding. She was putting on an air of confidence she didn't feel and was being brave, but something was wrong.

Shutting down the airline site, I opened a new browser, my hands hovering over the keyboard as I watched the teams playing football on the screen in front of me. Closing my eyes I tried to thread multiple conversations together. Yes, I had said I would go with her on a whim. But as I calmed myself, I knew it wasn't really a whim, Traci needed help but didn't know how to ask.

[:::: 4 - Traci - Flight ::::]

I danced through the next fortnight, not quite believing that Tom was willing to fly to Queensland with me to attend my cousin's wedding. I, like most of the ladies around the office, had a crush on Tom, and while those with partners would never betray them, any of us single ladies would say yes in an instant if he ever showed an interest. Hell, we'd even say yes to a one-night stand, just to have time with the unattainable Tom.

Inside, I was as giddy as a schoolgirl and the ladies of the office took it to mean I was excited about the upcoming wedding, not who was going with me. But that changed at Friday lunch, the day of our departure. We were sitting down in the kitchen, and I would be leaving in a couple of hours to head to the airport for my Friday evening flight.

"Hey Traci," Tom said greeting me as he sat down with the group of us. "Are you ready for the weekend?"

Before I could say anything, Sally replied. "I haven't seen her this excited since that bevy of Thunder Down Under beefcakes came into the office to talk investing," Sally snorted. "Mind you, they were hot."

We ate for a few minutes and passed some good-natured gossip until Tom stood, having finished his lunch.

"Well, this weekend should be fun," he said as he picked up the rubbish. "Do you want to meet me at the airport or should we travel from here? I've got a bag by my desk ready to go."

I felt every lady's head swivel like they were in a horror movie.

"Uh, I was planning on leaving from here around two. Does that work?" I asked him.

"Perfect, I'll be ready then," he said before sauntering off, oblivious to what he had just caused. I had purposely avoided saying anything as I knew this would happen.

The moment he had rounded the corner out of the lunch room, women came at me from every direction, their mouths trailing along the floor.

Dianne, our CFO, an older lady in her forties who was known for her standoffish nature, sat down, folded her arms on the table and looked at me.

"Spill," she said, as each woman, now six of them plus myself, gave me appraising looks.

I shrugged, trying not to look like I was the cat that caught the canary.

"Tom agreed to be my plus one at the wedding this weekend," I told them simply.

"No fucking way," Sally exhaled. "I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it myself, but Tom, our Tom is going out with one of us."

I giggled nervously.

"Well, he's coming as a friend," I said, trying to downplay my excitement.

"Bullshit," Dianne said, now grinning. "You're as excited as a schoolgirl about to lose her virginity after the high school formal to the boy she's crushed on for years. I wondered why you went from worry to ecstasy about this weekend. Now we know why."

Once we left the office, Tom apologised for causing the awkward scene at lunch. He didn't think, but afterwards, he knew that I would have been mobbed. I told him, 'Just friends' and we both laughed

Despite my booking economy, Tom upgraded both of us to business class, and by the time I got off the plane, I felt like a queen.

I was surprised when we got off the plane to hear a scream. Suddenly, my mother had her arms around me, kissing me like she hadn't seen me in years. She noticed Tom standing patiently and gave him an appraising eye--the one that all mothers give any prospective suitor of their daughter.

"And I suppose this is the famous Tom, my supplier of Opera tickets?" My mother asked as she lent in and gave Tom a hug.

She gave me the eye and a smirk, knowing I was about ready to tackle him to the ground and take him there after I watched him retrieve my bag. However, she said nothing as the three of us walked out to the car. My father was circling the pickup zone waiting for us, and when he pulled up, I introduced Dad to Tom, and we were off.

"You know," Mum told me quietly as we drove, wanting to address what I was trying to avoid. "They are going to be attending for at least part of the reception, perhaps the wedding?"

"I know," I replied, the first shadow falling over my happy mood. I had been studiously avoiding thinking of what was coming, not looking forward to seeing them. But it was inevitable, and I knew I was going to have to come clean with Tom, more than likely tonight. My mother gave me a way to approach the subject, and if I were honest, I would do everything to avoid it.

"Family drama?" Tom asked politely from the front seat as we pulled up to the hotel where the wedding was.

"Let's hold it there for a moment," Dad said stoically before we could say anything else. "Tom, would you help me with the bags?"

We spent the next few minutes checking in, and I was surprised that I had a hotel room on the same floor as Tom. After a quick discussion, we agreed to drop our bags and get a drink downstairs in a few minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, Tom placed a glass of red down in front of me and put his own beer in front of him.

"So," he said after a few minutes when I didn't say anything, my nerves getting better as I looked around, hoping not to see anyone I knew.

"Yeah," I replied, sipping my wine but not tasting it.

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?" he asked.

"Fifteen," was my quick reply. Tom raised an eyebrow and sipped his beer.

"Are you willing to tell me the story?" he asked. "I mean, you don't have to, but as I am here with you..."

I sighed and looked down into the glass of wine that he had bought me. I drew in a deep breath and tried to hold back the tears that I knew were coming, knowing that I would more than likely lose the budding friendship with this hunk of a man that I was starting to adore.

[:::: 5 - Traci - Introducing the Cheater ::::]

I decided that no matter the outcome, I would have to tell Tom my story.

Growing up, we were a close family, with many of us getting together at least once a month. The Dads would BBQ and the Mums would gossip while preparing sides and desserts. The kids would play games and generally make nuisances of ourselves until the food was ready.

Throughout my childhood, teenage years, and early adulthood, my closest friend was my cousin Trina. Like me, she was a redhead. She was a few months older than me, but she entered puberty when she was eleven, as opposed to me, not sprouting until I was almost fifteen.

I don't know if it was because the hormones hit her early, but as her hips widened and her bust grew, so did her desire for boys.

Unlike Trina, I developed slowly. I didn't get my first period until I was almost fifteen, and I didn't need a bra until around the same time. But Trina was there for me, encouraging me to find my sexuality. It was fun, but we had one major difference. While Trina wanted to try as many guys as she could, I only wanted one. Cameron George had grown up only a couple of houses down from me.

As I matured, I found that my growing desire had a target, and Cameron was it. When Cameron asked me to go to the school dance in grade nine, I said yes there and then, I was so happy. That night, when I called Trina and told her Cameron had asked me to the dance, we ended up speaking for hours. Over the following years, Cameron and my love grew, and I thought my life was set the night that Cameron proposed. I had the man I had desired since I was a girl, my family around me and my best friend, Trina, backing me.

But as we all know, some fairytale stories don't have a happy ending and family drama must come from somewhere.

It was hard to pinpoint our downfall exactly, but it started perhaps a month after our engagement.

"Traci," Trina asked me one afternoon as the two of us sat in the backyard of our place drinking Margaritas. "Have you ever... I mean, have you..." She stopped then fixed me with an intense look. "Have you ever slept with anyone other than Cameron?"

I snorted, not in surprise but in humour.

"Of course not," I replied. "You know that. Cameron is all the man I have ever needed."

Trina nodded.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be with someone else?"