The Masked Truth (Preview)

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C H A P T E R F I V E

I hold up a coat hanger with a simple little black dress before tossing it to the side and holding another dress in front of my body that has a little more flair. I don't completely love it for the dinner tonight either, so I throw it on the grown and reach for something else. Perhaps I don't want to wear a dress, but even a skirt and top combination. But choosing two things is a lot harder than making your mind up about one simple thing.

When Nathan messaged me the details about tonight, I googled the unknown place to find out what kind of attire I needed to wear. I think after reading the description and looking at the photos, it's made trying to find something even harder. It's the type of place that can be dressed down to casual or upwards to a formal event. I just don't know what type of gathering you'd title this under.

This is just a new stress to the many I'm already dealing with at the moment. Since stepping out into the spotlight, what I wear has suddenly become something I'm very conscious about. Looking perfect all the time is a new job in itself because I have to constantly keep up with styles, wear new and different designs when all I want to do is go down to the studio in a pair of comfortable pants and a baggy t-shirt to record music. Now I have to look like I'm attending the Oscars every day.

My phone stars ringing and it instantly sends a gush of nerves floating through my system. I bet its Nathan chasing up my appearance, but I'm nowhere near ready to leave my apartment. I should have kidnapped Lucy when I had the opportunity.

Without looking at the caller ID, I answer my phone and press the device against my ear and wait for their voice to respond.

"Hey Riley," greets Ava.

"Ava, what's up?" I ask.

"The label want to know where your new demo song is. They've agreed to give you an extra night if you spend it in the studio working, or just send it in now if you've finished with it," explains Ava.

"I sort of have nothing." I bite my lip.

"Then why you were out shopping today, the label isn't going to be happy. You need to keep your head under the radar instead of constantly popping up for silly things like this, Riley. There's only so much I can help you out with." I know that voice, its Ava getting stressed about stuff again.

"Ava," I cut her off from the pre-thought out rant.

"Yes?" she responds.

"I'll send something before I go out to dinner tonight, don't worry."

"I'm worried. Don't stay out too late because you have an interview tomorrow," she reminds me.

"Mother dearest, where would I be without you?" I chuckle. "I'll sort something out and then message you. Don't worry," I calmly inform her.

"I will always worry about you, Riley," replies Ava.

"And that's why I trust you with my career. Strict yet motherly." I smile despite the fact she can't see it.

"I'll send you the interview details for tomorrow. The talk show host has a super fan segment for tomorrow and you're supposed to surprise them with tickets to the award show and a few other things, it'll be in the email though."

"Thank you, Ava."

"Have a good night."

"You too Ava, go to the spa or something."

"After this is all over, we're going to spend a whole week in the spa, don't you worry!" Ava seems completely happy and free when she mentions the idea of a spa week.

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