The Masked Singer

[Chapter Fifty Two]

Chapter Fifty Two

A muscular tanned hand appears in front of my face and clicks a couple of times. I try to focus my eyes on their hand, but my vision blurs as my mind wanders back to Nathan and his sad, heartbroken face. But I manage to shake those thoughts from my mind and tune into Alex's needs.

"Sienna, did you want anything from the tray?" he asks.

I look at Alex, then the tray and finally up at the petite airhostess standing next to Alex's chair.

Her overly bright smile and eagerness scares me into whispering, "No thanks." I couldn't possibly order anything after today's events. She looks slightly saddened by my answer, but she sharply nods her head, which cases her hat to wobble slightly before she disappears through the red velvet curtains in front of us.

I watch the curtains sway before direction my attention to the plane window. As I peer outside the tiny rectangle window, I watch the floating white clouds drift past us with no urgency. I wish I could possess the carefree persona. Instead I'm this terrible, grey stormy cloud that rains on everyone's parade.

The plane has just taken off, and we are now able to move around now. The good part is that I don't have to wrestle with this uncomfortable seatbelt, but the negative aspect is that the airhostess usually asks us if we need anything every five minutes. I'm doubtful it's because they want to see me, it usually always Alex they're cuing up for.

I couldn't blame them; he's the perfect boyfriend material. Thoughtful, charming, cute, amazing kisser and always seems to know what to say to make you feel better about yourself. Who doesn't need that in their life?

"What's wrong?" Alex asks as he pokes my arm.  

"Nothing." I shrug my shoulders.

Curling my legs up to my chest, I rest my head against them. I can't stop my mind from remembering the hurt look on Nathan's face. The way his eyebrows crumpled up together and his bottom lips quivered as he tried to hold back the tears. Even worse, I can distinctly remember him trying to smile through the pain.

On top of hurting Nathan, I'm going to hurt Nathan when I tell him about the kiss Nathan and I shared when I went to say goodbye to him this morning. That's going to be two people in one day, I can't imagine who's going to be next on my list. I want to go back to the days where it was homework in the evenings and fights in the morning over silly gossip with Hannah.

"What happened with Nathan?" he questions.

"I said goodbye, just like you told me to," I say. The words coming out seem so cold, and hateful. Every second that is slipping by just makes me feel sick to the stomach. Guilty for kissing another man, and hateful for doing what Alex said.

"It was for the best," Alex says, like he's trying to justify his actions.

"You should have seen how sad he was," I whisper.

"Just give him time," he insists.

They say that time is the answer to everything, but when I look back, time was always the problem. I've had times to spend with both boys and lifestyles, but I've never learnt when to turn off the act and just wear a pair of sweat pants and just breathe.

Now that I've got the time with just Alex by my side, it would seem like the perfect place to confess my guilty interaction with Nathan. But as I begin to look around me, the closed metal walls and lack of space kills any ideas of a confession.

"You never told me your final problem," Alex suddenly says.

Dropping my feet to the ground, I shuffle around in the chair so that I'm facing him.  He's got one leg crossed over the other and his arm pressed up against the arm rest. His hair is all messed up and he's displaying his goofy grin, but swirling inside his eyes is a look of complete dedication and interest – something that's hard to come by in people.

"That's because you never gave me the chance." I smile, "I distinctly remember you tackling me down onto the couch and kissing me."

"I would sure love to relive that moment." He waggles his eyebrows up and down in a seductive manor. Alex inches closer to my face and whispers, "I would love to feel those delicate lips against mine."

"I'm sure you would." I pull away from him and rest my back against the chair. The disappointment flashes in his eyes, but his cheeky smile stays firmly planted on his face.

"Tell me what's wrong." The light mood is suddenly turned serious again.

"Do you ever regret becoming famous?" Alex pauses for a brief moment, almost like thinking about what he's going to say. "Do you regret this?" he asks as he grabs my hand.

"I can't remember who I was before the world told me who I should be. I'm two people stuck in this one body, and I don't know which girl I should be," I confess. And despite the last few days, I'm still confused over which girl I should be. The one I want to be or the girl everyone expects me to be.

"Don't think of yourself as two different people. Humans evolve and rise to the occasion. People will hate you for anything and everything, but you must remember to keep doing what you love and stop pleasing the world around you. At the end of the day, it's your time ticking on the clock, not theirs."

"It's easier said than done. How do you deal with the negative comments? You can't stop the pain or ignore their words," I say.

"You learn not to care anymore." He shrugs his shoulder.

"It's hard not to care when all you do is care." I climb out of my chair and walk down the passage way to the nearest bathroom stall.

I slip into the cubical and quickly lock the door. There's a large mirror in front of me and I'm forced to stare back at my reflection.

With tears streaming down my face, I whisper, "I'm happy." The words echo around the room in coldness and sending shivers down my spine.

I didn't know pain until I found myself staring at the distorted reflection in the mirror begging myself to hold on and stay strong. Because no matter how many times I whisper, stay strong, it only makes the situation worse. It's exhausting trying to stay happy and unfair to pretend I know what I want in the world.

There's a knock on the bathroom door, so I grab some toilet paper and wipe the tears from my face and fluff my hair up so that I look presentable. To make my visit to the bathroom look realistic, I flush the toilet and wash my hands at the sink.

I take a deep breath and open the door. I expect to see a flight assistant or even someone on the plane waiting for the facilities – but Alex is standing at the door with a concerned appearance on his face.

"Are you okay?" His hand cups my cheek as he moves closer to comfort me.

"I'm fine." I shrug it off.

"You don't look alright," he comments.

Alex crushes his body against me and says, "I'll fix you."