Iris POV
Who would have thought that I would be a DJ, in a masked birthday party?
Not me, who used to hide behind the corner. Who blended among the crowd, while the world spun on without.
Yet here I was, standing in the middle of a crowded room, while different colours of lights flashed around the room, with a black tiger mask strapped around my face.
Behind the mask, I was sweating, not because of the heat of the crowded room.
No.
But because of the pressure....pressure that I fully accepted, not even caring about my own happiness, or how I would feel after the end of the party.
But because of the familiar feeling crawling up my spine, the urge to be perfect.
The urge to make everyone happy, even if it cost me everything.
That's who I was.
I was a girl who smiled even if my world was crumbling behind me. The girl who said, "Uh... sure," instead of "No." The girl who I was compared to:
Can't you be more like her?
Look at how she walks.
Look at you.
So I learned. I learned how to be like them, to walk how they did, to dress like them, and even to party like them.
I became a mirror.
I sighed.
Oh well, here goes nothing.
I started playing around the DJ controls, hoping that I wouldn't summon any demon with one wrong beat drop...
People were basically dancing, jumping up and down like some dancing pumpkin.
"Iris!"
I turned to see Michelle, the host of the party, strutting down to me with her high heel boots and short mini dress that practically screamed, look at me.
I smiled. "Hey."
"Can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked, not really waiting for a reply before walking ahead of me.
"Um... sure."
I followed her towards the bathroom, where she began fixing her makeup.
I looked around the bathroom. The place was huge. It could probably fit my entire house.
The marble white tiles and golden-trimmed mirror….
And who the hell puts a chandelier in their bathroom?
But who cares? Not as if my opinion matters anyway.
"I think you're terrible at your job," Michelle said, turning to face me.
I scoffed internally. Your makeup is terrible, I thought.
I pressed my lips together. "I'm sorry. I have never DJ'ed before, so..."
"Don't make up excuses," she snapped.
"If you couldn't do it, you could've said so, not playing some... ear-screeching sound in my party."
I stared at her for a moment. Between the two of us, your voice is the only one screeching.
"I shouldn't have asked you," she murmured.
My heart dropped as my gaze lowered. Guilt flooded my chest.
"Mum was right. You look like a cheap girl who can't even afford to fend for herself."
I bit my lips to avoid saying something that would affect both me and her.
I just kept quiet.
"Leave," she demanded.
My gaze snapped to meet her eyes.
Hatred was in them, and it suddenly reminded me of the gaze of my mother when she took her last breath.
My heart clenched as I nodded.
Her words didn't hurt me, but her gaze did.
I nodded before turning towards the bathroom door and running towards the exit, pushing through all the crowded sticky bodies that felt gross, by the way.
The cool fresh air cooled my skin the moment I stepped outside.
I breathed in and out and sighed in relief at coming outside.
I walked down the road towards my house,
digging my phone from my bag. My phone lit with so many notifications.
Mostly from people needing my help.
Iris, I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for a week.
Iris, I need your help in cleaning my garage.
Iris, I need your help to act like my gay best friend.
And just like I usually do, I replied.
"Umm... sure."
Someday, this behaviour of mine would get me killed.
The streets were too quiet, unlike the usual sound of traffic noise in New York.
My boots echoed softly against the concrete cement as I walked.
I hadn't worn covered clothing, so the cool breeze made my spine shiver, and I couldn't help but cross my hands tightly around my chest, practically hugging myself to shield from the cold.
I bit my lips as I remembered the look Michelle gave me..the look of disappointment and hatred.
"You were never meant to be born. I wish I had aborted you".
My mother's voice echoed in my head.
I wanted to cry, but I didn't. I wouldn't cry. Not tonight.
The black tiger mask still hung awkwardly around my neck, like a reminder of who I was supposed to be tonight.
A DJ.
A disappointment.
I quickened my pace.
The hairs on my neck stood, causing goosebumps all over my body.
I paused.
I was being watched. Someone was watching me.
And the worst part...I wasn't scared. I glanced over my shoulder.
Nothing. Just dim streetlights that stood over the streets.
Empty sidewalks. Closed shops.
But no one. Not even a shadow could be seen. Still, the sensation didn't leave.
I walked faster, my breath catching with each step. I knew this street...every crack, every graffiti painting that was drawn on it. But now it felt unfamiliar, like something was off.
I turned a corner and passed an alley.
Heavy footsteps....not mine.
It was like time froze while my heartbeat raced.
Was someone following me?
"Hello?" I called out with a shaky voice.
Silence.
I stepped backwards, almost tripping myself over, as a figure emerged from the shadows.
My breath caught, as my limbs seemed to lose all energy to run.
I was going to die. This was it. All alone in a quiet alley, after being a DJ and humiliated in a chandelier bathroom.
"Iris," the figure whispered.
I blinked.
My breath caught at the figure standing in front of me.
Henry?
He stepped into the light, one hand tucked in his pocket, while the other raised in peace.
His hoodie was pulled over his head, dark hair spilling out, eyes wide with amusement.
"Henry?" I said, half disbelief and half relief. "What the hell are you doing in the shadows? You scared me."
He looked sheepish as he stepped closer. "Well, I didn't mean to. I was at the party... I saw you run out and... I followed you."
I blinked again. "You were there?"
He nodded, bringing his hands out of his pocket and looking down at the concrete floor. "I was going to surprise you... until Michelle started talking crap."
I groaned in frustration.
Of course he heard and saw what happened in the bathroom.
I sighed, looking away, ashamed. "You didn't have to follow me."
"I know," he said gently. "But I did."
I hugged myself tightly, the cold getting worse. "She was right though. I was terrible."
"No," he said, his voice suddenly sharp.
He stepped forward, removing his hoodie and handing it to me.
I hesitated for a moment before taking it and putting it on. The scent...lavender....enveloped me, making me warm.
"She wasn't right. Not a single damn thing she said," he added.
I looked up, met his eyes. They were full of longing. It was familiar, comforting, and frustrating.
"Why do you even care?" I muttered.
Henry was my best friend. Even though we met last summer at the beach where my grandma took me for vacation, we were oddly close....that some people asked if we were dating.
We were the opposite of each other.
I was a people pleaser, while him...he hated people and wished not to please them.
"Because it's you," he said. "And you don't deserve to keep getting crushed just because you're trying to make everyone else happy."
I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say.
I was rarely needed, and if people needed me, I couldn't help it.
He reached out to me slowly, like I was a street cat ready to bolt. His hands gently touched my arm...
"You don't need to be needed or perfect for anyone, Iris. Least not for people like Michelle."
A shaky breath escaped my lips.
"I don't know how to be perfect, even though I'm not perfect," I whispered.
"If people need me, I need to help them... that's who I am."
Henry stepped closer. "It's not who you are. It's who they made you think you had to be," he said.
His words strangely comforted me.
We stood in the cold alley. No more footsteps. No noise. It was like we were the only people awake in the world.
Just him.
Just me.
"I saw you tonight," he said softly.
"Behind that DJ set.
You were trying. That's more than any other did at any party."
"Are you trying to comfort me?"
He shook his head.
I narrowed my eyes. "Why did you come to the party? You hate crowded places."
"Because of you," he said gently.
I looked at him—truly looked at him. His eyes weren't full of pity. They were full of something deeper, something raw. Something real.
And in that moment, I didn't feel like a mirror.
I felt like me.
"I wanted to see your DJ skills," he said, looking away from me. "And I was impressed."
I nodded in understanding.
"I hate parties," I said, throwing the mask from my neck.
He smirked. "I know."
"I hate Michelle."
"I really know."
I forced a little laugh.
Henry smiled.
"Come on," he said. "Let me walk you home. It's late. And I'm not letting Princess get another chance to scare you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Wait... Princess? Was she—?"
"I saw her sneaking around the back. Probably waiting to record you sobbing or something." His jaw clenched. "I told her off."
Princess was one of my classmates at Berlin High.
She was an accomplice of Michelle.
My eyes widened a little. "Seriously?"
He shrugged. "Not proud of what I said, but it was satisfying."
I smiled again, this time without forcing it. "You're such a weirdo."
"Touché," he said, bumping my shoulder lightly.
The night didn't feel so cold again, mostly because of his hoodie, but mainly his presence.
As we reached my door, I turned to him, hoodie still worn like my second skin.
"So... you really came just to see me DJ?"
He pressed his lips together. "Well... actually no... I came to see if Michelle didn't poison your punch."
I laughed...a belly-deep laugh that actually sounded like me and not those fake ones I usually do.
He smiled like he hadn't heard a better sound in days...probably years. "There she is," he whispered.
"Who?" I asked, confused.
"You."
I didn't need to say anything because of how flustered I was. I lowered my gaze as I bit my lips.
"Are you flirting with me?" I teased.
His face contorted in the darkness with that of disgust. "You know, I take back every good thing I said to you."
I scoffed. "Says the guy who came to see if I was not getting poisoned tonight."
He was speechless. And that made me laugh.
I wanted to give him back his hoodie until—
"Keep the hoodie," he said. "It looks better on you anyway."
I paused. I wanted to say thank you, but instead, I pulled him closer to me, his height towering over me.
I stared at his dark eyes, then kissed him on the cheek.
"Good night," I whispered, leaving him stunned.
"Good night, Iris," he whispered back.
And just like that, he disappeared down the sidewalks,
leaving our conversation fresh on my mind.