Page 14 of Semblance

“My heart is breaking with that haunting piece you’ve just played,” he said, “And though you cannot see it, I assure you that I am tasting my bittersweet tears.”

“Thank you Abraham,” I replied. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. This is the first time I’ve played it for anyone.”

“What an outstanding job you’ve done,” he replied, “Simply outstanding.”

For the next ten minutes, I was met with continuous adoration and praise. My heart was racing and I felt delighted every time someone showered me with kind words.

“You’re a treasure,” Mr. Fox said as he took my hands in his. “I would kiss your priceless hands, but alas, this mask stands in the way between my lips and your skin.”

“I guess you liked it huh?”

“I won’t lie, I’m a cruel and cold hearted man and the emotions I identify with the most are jealousy and greed. But listening to your music, it stirred something inside me,” he said. “But don’t let these kind words get to your head, Golden Virgin from Anastasia. I see a lot of money being made between the two of us. I’ll have someone call you.”

“Really?” I beamed.

“Yes. As beautiful as your tune was, nothing sounds better than money raining down from the wallets of the public,” Mr. Fox said. “Now if you excuse me, there’s a lovely lady in this room that I’ve had my eye on for a while.”

“We’re all wearing masks here,” I laughed. “How do you know what she looks like underneath?”

“These stupid things are a façade and a novelty. True beauty radiates through a simple piece of dried plaster and can slay a man’s heart in seconds,” Mr. Fox said.

“You sound like quite the hopeless romantic.”

“Once again, you mistake me for being a gentleman. I’m actually a sexual deviant,” he replied. “I’ve been dying to taste her skin again.”

As appalling as it sounded, I couldn’t help but laugh. Mr. Fox seemed harmless enough, and the fact that he offered me an opportunity had me on cloud nine.

“Well, I won’t be a cock block any longer then,” I replied. He bowed graciously and made his way through the crowd. I watched him pass by a dozen ogling girls, paying them no attention and finally stopped in front of Calisto and offer her a greeting.

I didn’t blame him. Calisto looked absolutely stunning in her dress. For a split second, I almost felt envy for all that she had and all that she was.

I continued chatting with other party guests for the better part of an hour, playing along to Calisto’s lies as I practiced my storytelling abilities. I discussed the politics and scandals behind the fictional city of Anastasia. It was actually kind of fun pulling the wool over people’s eyes, coming up with elaborate and outrageous stories.

I was ashamed to think it, but I was becoming better at lying.

I was in the middle of telling a story of how the last Mayor of Anastasia was caught in a sex scandal involving transvestite prostitutes and raccoons when suddenly, I heard the heavy chimes of what sounded like church bells.

Everyone’s attention was drawn to the origins of the bells outside in the gardens, just beyond the sun parlor and through the towering French doors. The guests made their way outside towards the sound, bewitched by every vibrant chime.

My curiosity was peaked and I fell in line with everyone else, leaving the warmth of the mansion and immersing myself into the cool air of the night. I looked up and saw the stars fill the sky like tiny speckled diamonds.

It wasa magical night.

The sweetscent of blooming flowers flooded my nostrils and I was amazed by how enchanting the gardens looked. It was something out of a fairy tale.

I was captivated while continuing to follow the crowd through the spellbinding gardens.

How odd it was that in a matter of seconds something could go from appearing so lovely to so fucked up.

At the centre of the gardens, three women were kneeling on velvet pillows, worshipping a large stone bell, fiery torches to each side of it.

Something strange was going on here.

Calisto stood behind the three women, each one dressed in elegant white gowns, their faces covered with milk-white masks. She was examining them; no different from how I examined a piece of fruit at the grocery store, running her fingers down every curve to check for imperfections.

What was going on here?

Finally Calisto turned to all the guests and addressed us.

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