EXIT KEY

CHAPTER FIVE- LEVEL 4: SOCIAL INVISIBILITY

[Tape 4 - Audio begins: Benji's Voice]
"You think you've felt alone before, Star?"
"Wait until you're alone in a room full of people who swear they see you."

The living room was dark, lit only by the pulsing glow of the city lights through the rainsmeared windows. Starling didn't turn on the overhead lamp. He preferred the dimness now. It helped him disappear.
The tape recorder sat on the floor beside the coffee table. His notebook was already open, pen ready.
He hit play.

"The fourth level was different."
"They put me in a room that looked like a party neon lights, loud music, people dancing, laughing, shouting... but none of them saw me. Not really."
"I walked through them like a ghost. I tried to speak, but my voice fell flat."
Starling rubbed his face slowly, exhaling as he leaned forward. He remembered how Benji used to describe school parties he never really wanted to attend. How he'd stand near the walls, pretending to text.
"They handed me a mask when I entered the room. A white, plastic one. Blank."
"When I asked what it was for, someone whispered: 'To be seen.'"

Starling scribbled:
"Level 4 - Social invisibility. The illusion of belonging. Forced identity performance."
He stood and walked to the kitchen, carrying the recorder with him. His hands shook slightly as he poured himself water. He stared out the window a streetlight flickered just above the sidewalk, and a figure passed under it with an umbrella.
He listened as Benji's voice deepened.

"When I put the mask on... people started noticing me. They laughed at my jokes, called my name, invited me into the circle."
"It felt... warm. Finally. Like I mattered."
"But every time I reached up to scratch my face, they stared like I'd done something wrong."
"One girl her eyes were too wide whispered: 'Don't take it off. If you do, they won't love you anymore.'"
Starling froze mid-step.
"Don't take it off..." he murmured.
He remembered how Benji had started changing a few months before he died the new slang, the new clothes, pretending to enjoy things he'd once hated.
Pretending.
"I wore the mask for hours, maybe longer. Every second, I felt less like me and more like... them."
"But something snapped when a guy with the same mask stood across from me. He walked exactly how I did. He laughed the same. He tilted his head at the same angle."
"It was like looking at a mirror that moved first."
"That's when I tore the mask off."
The hallway light flickered behind him. The silence in the house felt louder now, like something was holding its breath with him.
"The moment I removed it, the music stopped. Everyone turned. And one by one, they started screaming."
"I wasn't supposed to show my real face."
"The message flashed above the dance floor: 'Invisibility is better than rejection.'"

Starling clenched his jaw.
Benji had always wrestled with that the fear of not being enough. Of being too soft. Too awkward. Too different.
And now he had been fed a lie: that it was better to be fake and seen than real and alone.
"I wanted to leave the room, but the door was gone."
"They circled me. Their faces warped, masks melting into twisted smiles. And the girl from before whispered again: 'We were never your friends. We were your fear.'"
"Then they vanished."
"And I was alone again."
The tape clicked softly.
Starling sat back down, his hands cradling his forehead. The air felt too thin.
He turned the recorder off and looked at his reflection in the black TV screen pale, tired, eyes sunken. He didn't know if he looked more like himself or like someone wearing a mask too.
In his notebook, under his previous note, he wrote:
"Benji didn't fail that level. He woke up in it."
He circled the sentence twice, then put his pen down slowly.
He paused, then added one more line in red ink:
"I never saw him take off the mask until it was too late."
He closed the journal, pressing it against his chest. His vision blurred not from tiredness, but from the burn of unshed grief. He whispered into the quiet:
"I'm still here, Benji. I'm still listening."
And somewhere deep within, the silence seemed to answer back.