The Masked Singer

[Chapter Twenty One]

Chapter Twenty One

"You first!" I cross my arms over my chest, I'm not letting this go.

"No, you," Alex retorts.

"Nope." I shake my head.

An older lady standing near us glares and shakes her head at us. There's nothing wrong with wanting to hide out in a lobby, especially with the crowds hanging around outside.

"I insist." He smiles, "Ladies first." He gestures with his hand.

Growling under my breath, I take a few steps forwards to week around the corner. There's a large group of paparazzi waiting, cameras in hand. I can't understand why people holding pieces of plastic that flash bright lights look so vicious and intimidating. Wait, that's right, they're aiming to ruin your lives with them - or sight, which ever one comes first.

"How about this," I suggest, "We paper, scissor, rock it? Whoever loses gets the privilege of going out first."

"Well," he mumbles, "Fine, but I think it's silly."

I ball my hand up into a fist and wait for him to do the same.

"Paper, scissors, rock," we both say together.

After the three counts, Alex finishes up with a rock and a bright smile on his face.

"I win, I win," he starts cheering, "Rock beats scissors."

His excitement makes me laugh. Shaking my head I wave my hand sign at him.

"This is a gun, therefore it beats your rock." I poke my tongue out.

Alex's face drops - like a child who's just had their Halloween candy stolen.

"A gun isn't even in the game," he protests.

"Yes it is." I giggle, "I just played the move." I point my finger up so I can blow the imaginary smoke away from the fired shot.

"Fine, but let's play again," he insists.

"Paper, scissors, rock," we chant together.

Alex has a determined look on his face, and an evil glint in his eyes. At the end of the three counts, he's positing his fingers like a gun - the move I had just before. This time, I have one hand on the nose of my air gun, and my other hand is clasping the base with one hand on the trigger.

"Machine gun beats your hand one any day."

"You can't do that! It's unfair," he growls back - annoyance clearly displaced across his face.

Raising an eyebrow, I point the pretend gun at him and giggle, "Are you sure about that?"

Alex shakes his head and frowns at me, "I can't believe you cheated on a basic game."

I shrug my shoulders and smile at him, "I like to throw in some twists to keep the game interesting."

"More like cheats," he grumbles under his breath.

"Hey, you're the one being a baby over walking out the door - you've been a celebrity for longer, you should be immune to it," I point out.

"If one of you doesn't walk out, I'll throw both of you over my shoulder and carry you out," Mitch threatens in a somewhat humours tone - a deadly humours tone.

"Well I vote Alex," I say.

"So now we're voting?" Alex practically shouts.

"While you two figure it out, I need to chat to someone. Don't move, I have my eye on you both," he warns.