The Masked Singer

[Chapter Twenty Two]

When the door is closed, sealing me alone in the bathroom, I let out a deep breath. I run my hands under the water and tab it on either side of my cheek – cooling my flushed face. When I have taken a few calming breathes, I hope in the end stall, lock the door and slide to the ground.

Pulling out my mobile phone, I log into my FaceTime app and call Lucy – I haven't spoken to her in a while.

My first call is rejected, and then a couple of minutes later, she calls me back.

"What's up?" she chirps happily.

From what I can see, she's sitting at her desk on her laptop.

"Are you sitting in the toilet?" she frowns.

"Yes." I nod my head.

"What are you doing there?" I try to hold back the tears, but hearing her voice sends me over the edge – I miss her, I miss my family.

"I need to talk to you." I sniffle, a tear runs down my cheek.

"Oh baby," she coos, "What's wrong, tell Lucy."

"Everything, everything is wrong."

"You're just stressed out," says Lucy, "Take a deep breathe."

I take a deep breath, but it does nothing for me.

Shaking my head, I bite my lip and hold my breath, I don't want to start crying.

"You're probably feeling home sick, do something homily, call your mother?" Lucy suggests.

"What if I miss her more?" I ask.                                                        

"What if you feel better?" Lucy's idea makes sense – of course it does, "I'll call her tonight, or whenever I'm free," I agree.

We say our goodbyes and I sit in the bathroom for a little longer.

I freeze on the spot when I hear shoes clicking against the tiles. I expect them to stop at the first stall, but they stop out the front of my cubical.

"Hello?" Alex calls out.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"No." I shake my head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offers.

"No."

From the crack in between the wall and the door, I see Alex sit down on the tiles. He slides his hand underneath the door and I hold onto it and press my cheek against the cool surface.

"When I first came out to America, it was amazing. I'd grown up on American films, and I tried everything: Burger King, Taco Bell, those weird sugary lollies. We toured in every state and I saw the best tourist attractions – it was an amazing few months," Alex begins to say.

"What does that have to do with me?" I respond.

Alex ignores my question and continues to talk, "And then we toured three more times. Stayed in a stuffy tour bus that stunk from sweaty shoes and clothing – we argued, fought, threatened to break-up."

"And?"

"Our manager finally decided to go through hotels, which helped. We discovered that despite hating each other – we were the closest thing we had to a family in America. You just need to form those friendship attachments," he says.

"But I don't have a lot of friends who travel."

"You've got me." He shakes my hand, "You'll have your tour manager, and your security team. They might be employed to organise your life or protect you, but they are human beings whom are going through the same struggles. Mitch tours all year with me, leaves his new family behind so that he can afford College for his young daughter."

"I need to make friends or employee my friends." I giggle.

"You just need to allow yourself a settling in period and time to adjust. It's okay to feel lost, we all feel like that at some point in our life."

"Thank you."

"For?"

"Everything."

I feel guilty when we leave the bathroom, there's a small cue waiting outside with unimpressed looks on their faces. Alex and Mitch don't appear phased by their dirty glares, so I try to look the same.

The waiter leads the three of us to a table at the back of the restaurant. As we approach the table, I can see bot Mr. Carter and Mr. Porter – but the third person has their back to me so I can't identify who they are. They've got long blonde hair, so I easily assume they're female.

She must be my manager – Dad's trying to limit the amount of males on tour. I'm not sure if a young male or older gentleman repelled him more. He muttered something about his baby girl and woman being more organised in life.

When we arrive at the table, Mr. Porter is the first standing to greet us. He roughly shakes Alex's hand before pushing past to envelop me in a tight hug.

"You made it!" he says enthusiastically. "This is Ava, she'll manage your tour, albums and interviews." Mr. Porter moves out of the way so that Ava can get out of her chair.

"It's nice to finally meet you," says Ava.

"I'm – " Alex squeezes me side tightly cutting me off.

"I'd decided." He loudly announces, "We're calling you Sienna."

"Since?" I frown.

"Now." He shrugs, "Just popped into my head."

"That's a beautiful name," Ava compliments.

"The name really suits you, Sienna," Mr. Carter adds.

"Now let us order lunch," Mr. Porter says, "I want to hear how the album is coming along."

"I'm always ready to talk about business." Alex rubs his hands together.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders." Mr. Carter shakes his shoulder, "I have a few ideas to discuss with the two."

"I'm always open for new ideas." I weakly smile.