Before I can ask anything, he leans in slightly.
Close enough that I feel the warmth of his breath near my ear.
His voice drops into a quiet whisper.
“Trust me.”
A pause.
“You’ll thank me later.”
Then he steps back like nothing happened.
Still smiling.
My brain struggles to catch up as I stare down at the mask in my hand.
What the hell kind of party requires masks?
I glance back at him once more.
He just gives me a small nod toward the elevators.
So I turn and walk away.
The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime.
I step inside.
And as the doors close and the numbers begin climbing toward the twenty-seventh floor…
A strange feeling settles in my chest.
Like something just shifted.
Like the most interesting part of the night is just beginning.
The elevator hums quietly as it climbs.
Twenty-two.
Twenty-five.
The numbers glow softly above the door, each one lighting up with a gentledingthat echoes louder in my head than it probably should.
My reflection stares back at me from the mirrored walls. Black shirt. Dark jeans.The lace mask dangling loosely from my fingers.
I still haven’t put it on.
My stomach feels tight.
The higher the elevator goes, the more aware I become of where I’m headed.
A mysterious party. Invitation-only style party. In which masks are also required.
My brain, which apparently waited until now to start working properly, begins listing all the reasons this might be a terrible idea.
For all I know, I could be walking straight into some kind of cult gathering. Or a sex party. Or something so much worse.