At least at the Masquerade, I can attempt to fly under the radar. Perhaps I’ll be able to avoid questions about Damian or what my new games will be about. And I can try not to discuss business, politics, or money, for once. Maybe I’ll even duck the regular advances from women with shiny exteriors and beige personalities.
It might be a delightfully uneventful evening, especially if I show fashionably late. I aim to blend in. To beanyone.
Unrecognisable.
CHAPTER SEVEN
masquerade
REY
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d step foot in this place, but here I am.
THE Orion!
I finally get to see the place that has been the source of so many of my daydreams. The place that looks so magical, and my fingers itch to draw the world I once used to escape to.
Now I’ll get to soak up the atmosphere too. The smells. The sounds.
Hah, if Mum could see me now. Well, she wouldn’t be too impressed with my having to enter via the alleyway staff door instead of the red-carpeted front entrance, but soon I’ll be inside and mingling with the super special ‘very very important people’.
I go through higher-than-airport-level security and send my check-in selfie to Kirsten before I have to give up my phone.
“Are you staying after your shift, miss?” the suit-clad person behind the reception desk asks, putting my phone into a black velvet pouch.
“Yes,” I breathe. I still can’t believe that’s true. Threehours to wander around and explore the place at my own pace. It’s unbelievable.
“Alright, your phone and other belongings will be by the main exit when you leave.”
“Up there? The red-carpet exit?”
“Yes, I’m moving up there after all the staff are in place.”
“Okay, thank you,” I say, hardly containing the excitement in me. I can feel a squeal forming in my throat, like one of those old teapots that whistle when the water boils.
I make it around the corner before I let my steam out. “Eeeeeeek!”
Although I feel like skipping, I step slowly down the hall to the changing rooms so I can take in the details of the ornamental panels on the walls, the jungle painted on the ceiling, and the different floral glass sconces lighting the path. This is only a staff section, and it’s amazing already.
The professional wardrobe and styling team work on me like a three-headed octopus, and I’m soon unrecognisable in my costume. They’ve squeezed me into a white and blue dress that’s cinched at the waist, with satin sleeves fastened on to conceal my tattoos. A platinum blond bob wig hides my dark brown waves, and half my face is covered by a glittering floral mask—each flower glued on one by one.
To top it off, I’ve gotkillerwhite Louboutin heels, which I unfortunately have to return after my shift (boo), but at least I don’t have to get changed until I get home. Costumes are mandatory all night.
The other girls are dressed in a variety of Wonderland-themed ensembles, and there are dozens of human flowers running around.
A person donning a headset and a floral shirt calls for our attention from the doorway.
“Good evening, everyone! I’m Vic, your coordinator. Letme take you through the instructions for the evening, and then we’ll do a brief round of the main rooms.”
He explains that our job is to welcome the first arrivals and make the place feel lively from the start, so we need to spread out in the different rooms and partake in the activities. And we get paid for this. I fucking love this job.
Vic leads us out through the staff alleyway and up to the front entrance, allowing us to see the place as the guests will when they arrive. We follow him through the fairy-light tunnel, and into the most spectacular room I’ve seen.
It’s dominated by different shades of pink and a domed ceiling with an oversized chandelier. Massive green plants in ornamental gold pots give the place a lush feel, and the bright blue chairs and the tall wooden wardrobe juxtapose the variety of pinks in such a pleasing way it makes my heart flutter.
Compared to the photos, this is mind-blowing.
Vic introduces it as the Pink Room.
