Masked Love

Masked Love 4

"Is this how you do it? Praise girls with your sweet and smooth talk, and then once you have them under lock and key, you break their hearts? To tell the truth, it almost worked there but it wont ever work again. Trust me," I assured him. I stood up straight, shrugging off his jacket and catching it. I walked closer to him, leaning in close to his face but taking a sharp veer to his right ear. "Because, unlike most girls, I see under your obvious façade. You're heartless and no matter how much wealth, you possess, it will never fill that giant hole in your heart. Listen to me, take advantage of it and your youth, while you can, because you'll grow old and nobody will want you." I whispered. I let go of his jacket, not looking down, whether to see if he caught it or not. I briskly brushed past him, not looking back.

Instead of feeling triumphant and giddy with accomplishment on getting my point across, something deep inside my gut was tugging at me. Guilt? Did I go too far? Did he mean what he said? Was I the heartless one, now? I pushed the questions to the back of my head. Don't be stupid, I told myself as I entered the ballroom again. You made your point across. So why did I feel as if there wasn't no point to be made? You're thinking silly, girl, my voice said inside my head.

A cold grip was enclosed around my arm and dragged me off to tucked in corner beneath the stairs. I stared into the icy depths of Paris's eyes. A smile was etched on her lips and in her eyes. Her nose even seemed to crinkle in delight.

"Were you just outside with the Prince?" she asked, gaiety drawn in her voice. Where was she going with this?

"Yes?"

"What did he say? Did you put in a few words about me? Did he mention me?"

"He barely knows you exist," I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"So?"

"What?"

"Did you put in a good word about me?"

"Erm....uh, yeah, sure. In fact, I bet he's still outside, so you might want to go out there. It might be the only time you get with him alone and you want to make sure he notices you," I said, using anything to be left alone for a few moments, not realizing what I was doing.

"Yes. You're so right! Thanks so much!!!" Paris exclaimed. She clapped her hands in her joy and rushed off, leaving me alone. Oh, how I wished to be at home, tucked away in my chaise lounge reading an old-time favorite or watching TV. Home. Somewhere, I probably wont see until two months time. Thinking about made me home-sick. I inhaled and exhaled, automatically calming any hysteria that threatened to come up.

I leaned back against the back- walled staircase, studying the little area I was in. Even as if, people were going to tour behind the place, two oiled paintings were hung up, by each other. One a painting of a girl looking over her shoulder, looking at you but not at you, as if she was deep in thought. And the other a painting of fruit in a handmade weaved basket. I stared closely, leaning in closely. No not fruit but jewels. But of course. I couldn't say I was surprised. Most men were interested in two things. Wealth and women. The Double W, or what my friends and I called it back home.

I wondered if Paris made it to the balcony and the Prince was gone or there. There with another girl who beat Paris. I hoped he wasn't there but not the reason I was opting for. A reason my mind's desire chose. The reason being he wouldn't like Paris because-

"Are you okay?" I jumped up in surprise and turned toward the source of the voice.

Jack

I didn't turn to watch her go but her loud click-clackety retracing footsteps told me she was stomping away. She knew me good, I thought. I chuckled lightly to myself and faced the rest of the way towards Paris. I took in the same position she was in, gripping the banister, my jacket still gripped between. Those eyes, so mesmerizing, I thought. Right at that moment, before she left matched the sky. They were so beautiful, so whole and fully alive.