Behind the Mask

((Short story of randomness. Sort of a back story for a character. Entered in Burn. – Candycoated Toxins))

Mikhail stared at the bleak world from behind his mask. None of them needed to see what he really looked like. How he really acted. They didn’t need to know his past, his present, his hopes for the future. At least, what little hopes there were. So instead of being like all of them, with his mind practically on display, Mikhail wore his mask.

And he wore it well.

Nobody saw past the act of coldness, of barely suppressed rage, and there was never a person capable of having him take it off.

He had perfect control over his mask. Mikhail never, ever expected to lose that control. When he walked through the door to the condo, he was ready to assume the mask around a whole new group of people and get on with his life as ‘the twisted bastard’.

He was not ready to be blown away by the people inside. He quickly lost his temper, his nonchalant attitude, and his heart in rapid succession. They unknowingly knocked off the mask that had protected Mikhail for all of his life. He lost his wall along with everything else, and then he was entwined with the weird people of that weird condo.

Just by walking through that one door, Mikhail lost the protection of the masquerade he had kept for so long and so well. And in doing so, he gained so, so much more.