NIGHTMARE : Lie Lies In Eyes

[Prologue]

(keys tapping)

To. Veronica Vance
From. Emmelene Vance

Hey. Its been an year and a half since I lost the title, 'The Grace - Emmelene Vance '. How are you doing? Of course good. I must be kidding.... But I'm not over it yet. Camera shutters, fan cheers, posters and photocards, poses and red carpets... still haunting me.
I have got no one to share with. Mom has always been busy with investors. I've got no hobby to kill time. So you are the only one right now whom I can share my worries because I know you never checks out your mail.
Nowadays, I hate social media—it's just filled with negativity. But there's this one comment that's been stuck in my head for days, and I can't seem to figure it out.
It said...
"Are you running away from life? If not, then what are you unhappy for? Is it because of the unsuccessful life after a successful career? Or for not putting any effort into choosing another life path? Is it the fear of losing again and wanting to go back to who you were?"

I guess each question makes sense. Am I hesitating to become someone else, or am I unable to accept any other versions of myself? I'm lost in my thoughts with no clue.

That day, a friend shared a link to visit The Art Club. So I decided to visit the museum for a mental boost and some physical activity. As I ascended to its second floor, my eyes were drawn to a monumental picture on the wall. Without even realizing it, I found myself walking toward it, as if I was possessed. The picture showcased a grand hall resembling a castle, adorned with frozen figures of Romanian gods and goddesses like ancient relics.
Suddenly, a voice commanded, "March forth", and I turned to witness a procession of students in cloaks of blue, black, and white, marching in unison. The hall, unlike before, transformed into the surreal scene from the picture. Was it reality or a vivid daydream?

A gentle tap on my shoulder interrupted my contemplation, and a girl my age whispered, "Won't you join in?" Perplexed, I stared at her, only to be jolted back by a man in his forties declaring, "What's the matter, girl? We're closing."

Reality snapped back; the hall reverted to its mundane state, the picture still hanging on the wall. The marching troop, the enchanting chandelier, and the rocky walls had vanished. I rushed to the door, searching for the mysterious girl, but she too had disappeared. Returning to my initial spot, facing the picture, I questioned my sanity.

At the lower edge of the picture, a simple inscription read,
The Grandiose.
My heart raced, and beads of sweat formed a silent cascade. The man's voice brought me to my senses, urging me to leave. I replied a pale "Yeah," escaped outside to gulp down the cool air.