SMii7Y+ House Oneshots

Masked Romance - SMii7Y × Blarg

Not Requested

I'm gonna be honest, loving the idea of Masquerades recently with Smits, so that's why there are two of them in such a short space. I hope you don't mind!

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SMii7Y's POV

"Come on, Jaren, you've got this! Nobody will know it's you, it's a Masquerade. Just breathe."

Soothing my mind, I pull my hands down the sides of my face, before pushing my hands off the sink and leaving the bathroom. Striding through the house, holding a false confidence in my mind, I rush down the stairs in haste, carefully avoiding the flared legs of my white trousers, forcing my body on the chair in the hallway. I lift my feet into the pair of dark brown boots, tying the shoelaces up to the top, rising off the wooden base when I'm done. Adjusting my tie, buttoning my blazer up, pushing my arms through my coat sleeves aggressively - all of them acts of panic to ensure I reach the ball on time. Flicking the elastic of my mask to the back of my head, I slide it down to surround my eyes: I was given a white one by the hostess, and instructed me to wear white too, which led me to presume every attendee was given a specific colour to wear. The corners along the top ridge of the mask poked into my hair, as I rush out of the house with the door locking behind me.

A white McLaren was parked outside my house, the door hitched open by the driver to assist me inside. I greet him with a smile, before folding my body into the backseats. Checking my pockets quickly to ensure I had everything, I give a thumbs up to him, as he carefully shuts the door and returns to the front. I wrap the seatbelt over my torso, plugging it into place, as the driver starts the car.

Before long, I found myself at the venue, gazing in awe at the structure. Carved statues lined the walls, striped posts holding the roof ledges up, all matching with my suit's shade. "Have a brilliant night, Mister Smith."
"Thank you, sir. I will, for your sake," I jump out of the car with a light wink, my poor attempts at flirting. Cautiously shutting the door behind me, I climb the stairs towards the entrance, a couple others beside me. The doors were closed, so many were lurking around the front, everybody wearing a different colour outfit - I look out of place as my clothes are a plain white, even the female in black seems more colourful than I do.

The front doors are prised open, a female stood there with a grin on her face, and the same style mask as everybody's in the crowd, but tie-dyed rainbow. Our focuses all turned onto her, brunette hair flowing from her head down to just below her shoulders, her height definitely shorter than majority of the people around. A glint was shown over her eyes, which made me guess she had the masks custom made for lenses to fit - this causes me to glance around, and spot a few others with the same. "Welcome to the Masquerade!" she announces, a British accent flowing through her words, "As you can tell, you all have a different shade assigned to you. This is how you will refer to each other, so legal names are not to be given. On the side here," she points to a board stand, with tables illustrated on, "Is the table arrangements. Please stick to these, as they have been specifically chosen. Settle in, and I will speak to you soon." Her words finish, as she strolls of behind her with the striped dress running behind her.

The crowd beginning to filter in, checking the tables and figuring out their placements, I found myself being the last there. I shrug it off, knowing that somebody had to be last. Running my finger down, I noticed every table was a four-seater, which reminded me of every double date I have spotted in the wild. Eventually coming across my code name 'White', I instantly lock my eyes onto the table, and I stride over to it. Pulling the seat out, I lower myself onto the chair that was opposite an occupied one. Glancing up after adjusting, I smile at the dark blonde haired male, gaining one in return. There was a male either side of me too, which I thought was intriguing as other tables had a mixture of men and women. Dismissing it, the hostess returns, standing on the concert stage with a microphone in hand.