Behind The Mask

Chapter 1

Anouk’s POV

I’ve had enough! I try to say or think something else, but the fuckery that I call my life is just too much. I’ve had enough! Why the fuck did anyone up there, conveniently named God, decided to let me be born just for the heck of watching me go through all sort of shit. Ending with the big shit I’ve just been through. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please be aware that if anyone crosses my path today of all days I’m doing murder. Because – that’s right – I’ve had enough! Fucking enough!

I take a short cut through the hotel parking. I have no patience to go round the entire...Wait! What is that noise? Screaming, scuttling...rushing? What the hell??? And before I can make a move to ascertain what’s going on, I am enveloped in this stampede of crazy girls, yelling and running as one. I am forced to run with them. The other option is being mangled under their feet. So I’m running till a cordon of huge guys stops us. Okay...what in the hell is going on here???? The girls keep screaming and as I strain to hear, I discern the name Michael. So they’re cheering for some Michael guy. I try to wiggle my way out of the hot mess of batshit crazy girls, but no way. They press on me from behind and the bodyguards keep me at bay from escaping the crowd.

All of a sudden, the mad shrieking goes up on another octave and I perceive some guy walking to the black van in front of us. Let me see... black fedora, black aviators, some kind of military jacket....Oh great! I’m caught in a stampede of Michael Jackson’s fans! Alright...let me just explain to the big burly bodyguard that I have no business with his famous client...

“Sir...excuse me....could you let me pass, please? I just want to leave, that’s all.”

The guy seems to pay attention to my words, but only half so. He breaks formation, goes to the bespectacled King of Pop and tells him something. I think I am honored by the most famous gaze in the world, looking up and down at me through dark tinted lenses, but all I honestly care is to be allowed to leave. And Mr. Jackson nods yes, beams a smile at me and gets inside his van. You know, some celebrities are actually reasonable people!

The bodyguard is back. He breaks the human wall, grabs me by the arm and extracts me out of the crazy girls’ group. Well, thanks God for that! I prepare to say thanks and walk away, but the guy is actually pulling me towards the van. Before I can say a word of protest, I’m ushered inside the van and the door closes behind me.

I blink. I have to process this whole thing. Am I being kidnapped? Should I worry? I look ahead and sure thing Michael Jackson is there, minus the sunglasses. He put them in the breast pocket of his coat, which is now unbuttoned, and I see a red shirt underneath.

“Hello!”

“Erm...hi. Could I possibly know....”

No, I can’t because the Gloved One has grabbed and squeezed me into a hug. I stop breathing. What is going on here???

“So...what’s your name?”

He finally pulled back from the hug and looks at me from close quarters. Smiling. Like what he’s just done is the most normal thing in the world!

“Look...this must be a confusion...a really big one. I don’t know what you usually do with those fans of yours....I was just asking to be allowed to leave. I told your bodyguard that, loud and clear...”

“What? So....you didn’t want to talk to me?”

I raise my eyebrows and shoulders in wonder.

“Why would I want to talk to you? I don’t know you....I mean, I know who you are, but that’s as good as saying that I know who the president of the US is...I just want to go about my business, no more and no less.”