The Masked Singer

[Chapter Fifty Eight]

Chapter Fifty Eight

I'm excited to returning to the hotel. This discussion we have started is intriguing, I want to know so much about Alex. Now that I've really started thing about the two of us, it scares me that I don't know as much as I should.

When we arrive back at the hotel, relief washes over my body as I flop onto the couch and pull my mask off and toss it onto the coffee table. The feeling of the soft cushion material under my back makes warm tingly feelings spread around my body.

"We should go to bed," Alex says. Immediately, I pop up and look at him in disbelief. Bed, this early, no! I want to know about his family since we were cut short from it. I want to know everything about him, and I desperately want to know about it now.

"Now way, we were in the middle of a great conversation!" I pout. Alex's head drops back as he groans. His reaction makes me ten times more curious about what he's trying to avoid.

"But I'm tired," he moans.

I don't want to argue over the situation, I'd rather him come to the conclusion of wanting to continue our conversation rather than pressuring him – which might make him close up about the information or regret the late night and resent me in the morning. Instead, I come up with another strategic plan to alter his answer.

Slowly, I pull myself up from the couch and drag my feet along the ground as I head over to my room. As I get to the doorway, I look over my shoulder and pull the cutest, saddest face I can. I hope it looks over top and desperate enough to make him change his mind.

As I flutter my eyelashes – he tries to not look at my face, and even tries covering his face with his hands. But I keep the act up and persist. I'm glad I don't give up on the plan because soon enough he loudly exhales and slowly nods his head in agreement.

"Fine." He frowns, "we'll talk for a little bit," he agrees.

My pouty lips instantly change into a beaming smile. There's a small bounce to my step as I walk into the room and fall on top of my bed. I kick off my shoes and climb under the cover. Alex stands at the foot of the bed as I wiggle under the blankets as I try to get comfortable. When I settle in a comfortable position, Alex joins me but lays on the cover.

"So," I drag on, "you never finished tell me about your siblings," I remind him.

"I feel like I'm telling you a bedtime story," he whines, postponing time.

He puts his hands up in surrender and says, "You should be a little more patient."

"Just tell me, I don't understand why you are being so secretive all of the sudden," I grumble.

"Says the one hiding behind the mask," he whispers.

"Cheap blow," I mutter.

"I had an older brother." Alex's head drops as he looks at his hands.

"Had?" I dare to question.

"Tyson past away when I was eleven, he was seventeen," he whispers.

When I hear those words, my heart stops. I quickly remove the blankets from my body so that I can shift to Alex's side. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull his body closer to mine.

"What happened to him?"

"He killed himself. They said it was from extensive bullying, but nobody really knows. He was never a sad kid – as least nobody noticed." A small tear runs down his cheek and before it can fall off his face, I remove the tear with my thumb and softly kiss the spot.

"I'm sure he's in a better place." I smile, trying to cheer him up.

"That's why I do music. It was always our thing. Tyson always wanted to be musician, so I decided I would make his dream come alive." Alex's eyes light up, but he still looks distance – like he's lost in a memory.

"And you're doing a very good job at animating it."

"Our first song was one of his. I found the lyrics scribbled on the back of a school book. I never understood what it meant until after he died."

Alex slowly starts to mumble the lyrics – some words to faint to hear. But I know every single word in that lyric; I used to listen to it all the time. I never stopped to think about where the story of it might have come from. In fact, he's never explained where the idea came from.

"You are amazing Alex, doing this all for your brother." I rub his back, he nods his head.

"And it's why I do everything in my power to keep the band pushing forwards. We have to be the best of the best; I need to be the best for my brother. He wouldn't accept anything less."

"You are the best."

"I used to be," he grumbles.

"What are you talking about? There's still so many people who love you and your music," I reply.

"That's the thing with fame, you fade as quickly as you appear. People forgot about us, and I'm thankful you've given me the chance to revive the dream and continue living on for the memory of my brother."

"Thank you for sharing this with me." I rub his hand, "I would do anything for you."

Alex snaps out of his trance and looks up at me. The vulnerable look on his face vanishes, and his usual happy appearance resurfaces. He slowly moves out of my grip and stands on his feet.

"That's the small story about my life. It's really getting late, so I'm going to bed," he announces.

"Um—" I don't get a chance to say anything because he gets up and storms out of the room in a heated rush.

"Goodnight," I whisper.0326S/