Ethan Cornelius remains Masked
1440 Words
The mirror showed a stranger staring back at me.
I gathered my hair slowly, twisting the long strands into a tight coil at the back of my head before securing it with some pins.
I pulled the wig over my head, adjusting the short bob until it sat perfectly.
I picked the cotton cloth lying on the table and I wrapped it around my chest.
The fabric pressed firmly against my sternum. My breathing grew shallow, but I kept pulling the cloth as tight as I could. Making sure that every curve disappeared.
When I wrapped it one last time, my chest didn't even rise when I inhaled.
"Good." I said to myself.
I pulled on the loose white shirt and stepped back looking at the mirror.
The figure looking looking back at me was smaller than most men.
It's shoulders were quite narrow, the frame a little too delicate. It's not the body of someone who spent his life lifting weights.
I deepened my voice and spoke quietly.
“Yeah.”
The sound came out softer than I wanted so I cleared my throat and tried again.
“Yeah.” it was a bit rougher this time. But it's convincing enough.
I grabbed my camera from the table and strapped it onto one of my buttons.
The tiny red light blinked once before fading, I smiled recording had started. Marcus would already be watching the feed.
“Don’t mess this up,” I said to myself under my breath before heading out.
The bus door was open when I arrived.
A few people were already seated inside, but they were scattered across the rows like nervous students waiting for an exam they hadn’t studied for.
The air inside felt thick. They were all afraid.
Someone near the front row kept tapping his foot against the floor out of anxiety. Another boy's hands sweated constantly and he wiped his sweaty hands against his jeans again and again.
I sat in an empty seat near the middle and adjusted the camera strap on my chest.
The bus started moving. No one said a word during the ride.
Every now and then someone shifted uncomfortably, or looked outside hoping to escape this reality.
We continued the long silent drive until the mansion appeared. Even from a distance it looked huge.
The bus slowed as it passed the fountain. No one moved.
When we arrived at the entrance, the bus stopped and the door opened with a soft hiss.
Immediately the doors were open, I could feel the cool night air, this made the knot in my stomach tighten deeper.
One by one, we stepped out a man came out from the mansion to greet us.
He looked neat and composed, he adjusted the frame of his glasses as he approached us with a smile.
His suit was perfect, his posture straight.
“Good evening,” he said calmly.
His eyes moved across our faces, briefly studying each of us.
“I’m Bryan. I’m Mr. Cornelius’s assistant.”
A polite smile curved his lips, though it looked more professional than friendly.
“This way.” He turned and started walking without waiting for a response.
We followed.
Inside, the air felt colder.
Bryan led us down a long hallway. The walk was quiet and I could hear our footsteps.
I clenched my fist to muster some bravery, I kept walking
Eventually he stopped beside a door. He opened it and the room inside was dark.
Before my eyes could adjust and understand the room a cloth suddenly covered my eyes.
“Stand still.”
The voice behind me said as he worked quickly, tying the blindfold firmly behind my head.
“Walk.” A hand guided my shoulder forward. I took careful steps, listening to the soft sound of everyone else moving around me.
“Face the wall." We obeyed and everything became quiet. Too quiet, I could hear the other models breathing.
We stood there quietly, scared of what may befall us and what may be our fate.
Suddenly we heard footsteps, they walked slowly liked they owned the room.
Every step he took echoed in the room. My breathing sounded louder than usual in my ears.
He paused he was probably inspecting, searching. My fingers slowly curled into my palms.
"Please… not me." I prayed silently.
The footsteps started moving again, slowly taking a step then another.
Then he stopped right behind me. I could smell his cologne. His warm breath brushed lightly against the back of my neck.
My spine stiffened, corrected my posture, I needed to look the part.
His hand moved suddenly. It landed on my body without hesitation. Every muscle in my body became tensed.
My fist tightened, my nails digging deep into my palm as the instinct to react surged through me.
For a split second, I almost swung my fist.
But beneath my shirt, I remembered the camera continued recording.
"Seven figures." I muttered as I swallowed slowly.
"Seven figures..." I muttered to myself as my fist loosened.
For a moment I thought he wasn't going to walk away. Then the footsteps shifted, they moved past me.
Relief rushed through my chest so quickly I almost exhaled out loud.
Good.
Let him choose someone else please. I begged. Someone beside me shifted nervously. Another person’s breathing turned shaky.
The footsteps stopped again. Then, they returned. He walked slow, right back to me.
My stomach dropped.
Warm breath touched my neck again, it was closer this time. The faint scent of smoke lingered in the air between us.
Then his fingers traced my jawline and slipped under my chin.
They lifted my head slightly, forcing my face upward even though the blindfold still covered my eyes.
I froze. He stayed like that for a moment, studying my features.
No one spoke. No one moved. The air turned thick and then his voice came.
“This one.”
The words fell into the room.
A few people exhaled in quiet breaths.
My heart started beating rapidly against my ribs.
What did he mean by this one? Was he talking about me? No it can't be me!!
Bryan's voice followed quickly from somewhere in the room.
“Yes, sir.”
Footsteps approached me and a hand held my arm.
“Step forward.” he commanded.
The blindfold was loosened and light pierced into my eyes.
I blinked rapidly as I studied the room. The others still stood facing the wall, blindfolded and frozen in place.
Then I saw him.
Ethan Cornelius stood a few feet away. His suit looked perfect on him, he looked taller than in the pictures but he was masked as always.
Broad shoulders beneath a perfectly tailored black suit.
One hand rested lazily in his pocket while the other held a cigarette between his fingers. Smoke curled slowly upward beside his face.
His eyes were already on me, studying me. My ears and cheeks started heating up. My pulse pounded in my ears.
Of all the people in the room, he had chosen me.
“You keep trying to find out if I like men or women,” he murmured, voice low and rough as if he knew my purpose.
“Then let me prove it to you.”
Before the words finished leaving his mouth, his lips crashed onto mine.
I froze as I tasted the whiskey on his tongue.
My hands flew up instinctively, shoving at his chest. “Stop...”
He didn’t respond instead he angled his head deeper, swallowing my protest, backing me until my spine hit the cold wall.
The binder was tight. But if his hands wandered, he could feel the difference…
My fingers tightened as his hands roamed underneath my shirt. He felt it.
He pulled back just enough to look at me.
His gaze slid down over my throat, my collarbones, the flat plane of my chest that suddenly felt far too obvious under scrutiny.
His brows furrowed.
Slowly, he flattened his palm against my sternum. Right on top of the binder and he felt it, it wasn’t hard muscle.
His entire body went rigid.
“You’re…” His voice cracked on the word. “Not a man.”
“No.” I responded quickly.
I decided to pull off his mask while he's in a shocked state and reveal his true identity to the world but he caught my hand
He gave a nod to someone on the staircase and a sharp object landed on my neck. A tranquilizer??
Everything in the room had tripled, I felt weak and dizzy and the room went dark.
- Writer
