A Night of Masquerade

Part title

It was a little after 4:00 pm as I made my way trudging thought the station. It was approaching the evening rush hour. I reach down to my bag to find my phone. Looking at the time reality kicks in. Im going to miss my train.
I begin to run, not the best option when you're wearing a hair prop and high heeled court shoes. "Damn!" I heard a loud snap, " my shoe!" Once on level ground I bend down in a desperate attempt trying to rectify the problem in hand. A young man walked past me in a suit and tie sporting a smug look on his face. Is this really funny? I can't see the funny side. Apart of me wanted to wipe that look right off his face but accepting that I had been defeated I stand up straight.

I've been on set shooting a short film feature about Masquerade balls. Ok it's not exactly the best choice of career options but it pays the bills. That being said finding work can be very bitty.
I do like my job, although not all aspects are great. For example we had to go over one scene 11 times. Another is having to spend most of the day in the pissing rain in skimpy clothes .

The dramas that went on today on and off screen was just about enough to push me over the edge. I had to get out of there. Charging through the corridors to get to the dressing room I failed to listen to the instructions about tomorrow. I threw my corset to the ground, left my almost vampire like makeup on along with my mid length black wig and high heeled shoes. That was definitely me done for the day.

Once on the train a sense of relief came over me. The journey was practically smooth the whole way back. I could hear my phone buzz. Yawning, i reach for my phone to view the last message,
Hi Tina, its just Dave from production Glaze. I just wanted to check that you know onset times for tomorrow. I'll give you a ring later but also wondered if you still have the props of the production. It's very important. I'll call back at 7:00 pm

I guess I'm in trouble I thought. I had a few hours to get my story straight. I decided to take a detour to my favourite coffee house. Somehow I've got to work out what I'm going to say later. Plus that's really cute guy that works there that like to get to know a little better. I have a strong sense that there might be a little something there. Approaching the shop I try to get a better view to see the queue from outside. Noticing it was not over crowded I decide to walk through the door's.

There he was, I wondered if he knew how gorgeous he actually was . He has dark brown hair, quite tall, slim and muscular. His glistening complexion was olive with perk red lips and had the cutest button nose.

I have been making this detour at least 4 times a week. I always go in with an intention, but never carry it out. Just how hard is it to go in there and strike up a conversation without my legs turning to jelly. To make matters worse he seems really shy but I'm sure there is another side to him. Before I get to the front I slyly drag my mirror halfway out of my bag. I have to see if anything is out of place. Not too bad, except for the over dramatic makeup. It was then I noticed. Oh my gosh, I forgot to remove the wig. Too late now I'm going to have to brave it.
I move closer down the line. Finally it's my turn, maybe today will be the day.
"Who's next! "
"Can I have a a... "
"Sorry one-minute, my colleague will be with you. "
What the hell is his problem I thought in my mind. His colleague came over and took my order. As I stood at the side of the table waiting for my coffee I could see my guy glancing over the counter. Every time he knew I clocked him, he'd remove his gaze. Maybe it was my make up, maybe the long black wig. Maybe I look like a hooker.
I decided to sit in the corner of the room facing the window. I can still see his reflection as he glanced over in my direction before exchanging words with his colleague. I have to admit, it made me feel awkward. I quickly finished my coffee and dashed downstairs to use the toilet.
" No toilet roll, how typical," I buried my head into my arms feeling sorry for myself. I began to think why the heck I came here today dressed like this.