Masqueraded Identities

Prologue

I walked into the ballroom of Princeton Academy.

It was the back-to-school masquerade ball, and I quickly felt myself blushing as I realized what I was wearing, which I had thought was a beautiful mask and dress for the occasion, looked cheap compared to the intricate things the other girls were wearing.

I shook my head. I was here because of a scholarship, not because I was rich. And that was probably a lot more than most of the people here could say. They were probably going here because their daddies could fire anyone at the academy. That thought cheered me up a bit; I got into one of the best, most expensive, educational academies in the country by my own merit, not by my parent's paycheck.

It also cheered me up knowing I had another week before I started here, which meant I could brace myself for all the snobby, rich girls I would encounter. I just hoped my roommate wouldn't be too bad.

I stood awkwardly off to the side while all the girls in their thousand-dollar dresses grinded against anyone and everyone. They looked like they were having sex with clothes on, their unhealthily-skinny bodies moving up and down to the music. It was rather disgusting.

Everyone probably knew each other here because their daddies had been paying for this place since they were toddlers. So, of course, I'd be the awkward new chick, totally unaccustomed to the classes or the weekly formal dinners held every Saturday. I was practically relearning everything I knew about high school.

I crossed my arms, looking around for something to save me from the agony. I gave up and took my phone out of my red clutch, which matched perfectly with my dark red dress. Only 8:02?! This dumb thing didn't end until 10 and of course my parents thought they were doing me a favor by forcing me to stay here the whole time. Jerks.

A masked guy came to stand next to me, and as I turned to look, I found myself taken aback by his black mask. At a masquerade ball, this wasn’t an usual occurrence. What was unusual was that despite all the wealth surrounding us, he donned a simple, dollar-store quality mask. Although guys didn’t get into the masks as much as the girls did, the males were certainly wearing some works of art. However, I preferred this guy’s mask. The dollar-store quality plastic was simple, but it emphasized his high cheekbones and angled jawline. The blackness of it caused his skin to look even more flawless and tanned. I wondered if he went tanning. I couldn’t say I would be surprised if he did.

            “Hello, there,” he said politely, with a white, perfect smile that belonged on a toothpaste commercial. And to think, I had been excited when I got my braces off. My new teeth were nothing compared to his.

“Hi,” I replied, giving what I hoped was my best smile as one of the revolving colored lights shimmered on his dark, curly hair.

“You look lonely,” he commented, watching the others dance.

“Not so much lonely. Just... uncomfortable.”

“You've never seen dancing like this before?” he asked, turning to look at me.

“Not by the dancing! Trust me, school dances have shown me many times to never underestimate what a girl can do in a dress.” He chuckled at that.

“What is it, then?”

“It's awkward not knowing anyone. I mean, I have no problem talking with people, but I mean... everyone's so rich, and I'm so not, and my dress and mask is nothing compared to the other girls’ stuff. And they’re SO pretty! I felt good and then I saw them and I ju- I dunno, it's just awkward.”

I blushed. I didn't really mean to blurt that out or share my self-esteem problems. I had a habit of rambling when I didn't know what to say but didn't want the person I was talking to to leave.