Page 87 of Face Me Off

“Wait. They’re not?” The alarm in his voice makes me shrug.

“They didn’t commit.”

He curses under his breath. “No matter what happens, your art is sick. They’d be idiots not to see that.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, fidgeting with my necklace. “It’s just … they’ve always seen dentistry as my future, you know? This feels like I threw them a massive curveball.”

“Sometimes you gotta break the mold to make something beautiful.” He pivots to face me and looks me straight on. “Trust me, I know a thing or two about disappointing parents.”

I nod, grateful for his understanding. He and his dad are tight, but he doesn’t have a relationship with his mom, and by the looks of things, he never will.

The room’s getting packed now, a steady hum of conversation filling the air. My gaze keeps darting to the entrance. I hold my breath with each person walking in. If I keep up this rate, I’ll be passed out when they arrive.

“What if they do show and hate it?” I whisper my deepest fear.

“Then they’re missing out on seeing the real you. And that’s their loss.” Ryan squeezes my shoulder. “Seriously, Maddy. This work is master-level genius. It’s no wonder you won.”

I take a shaky breath. “Right. Okay. I can do this.”

“Damn straight.” Ryan grins and points to an art piece displayed beyond mine. “Now, wanna explain to me what the hell that blob thing over there is supposed to be?”

I laugh despite myself, grateful for the distraction. “It’s abstract, you Neanderthal. Come on, I’ll give you the dumbed-down tour.”

As I lead Ryan through the gallery, I can’t quite shake the nervous energy thrumming through me. But with my friends by my side and my art on display, I feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, tonight’s the night I finally show my parents who I really am.

We stop at one artwork hanging on the wall that faces the entrance. I’m in the middle of explaining the piece to Ryan when my gaze lands on Mom and Dad. Their faces are unreadable as they scan the room, and I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of a canvas with one misstep away from ruining everything.

“They’re here.” I grab Ryan’s forearm.

“You’ve got this, Maddy. Remember, you’re the showstopper tonight,” Ryan says.

I take a deep breath and force myself to move forward. Mom’s gaze locks onto mine. Her approach is stoic, but I notice a hint of surprise behind her mask.

“Madison,” Dad says, his tone formal. “This is ... unexpected.”

I swallow hard. “I know. But I wanted you to see?—”

“What exactly are we seeing?” Mom interrupts, her eyes darting around the room and landing on my display. The pieces are arranged in a horseshoe-like shape, with the main piece at the center.

“Each piece is centered around the theme of ‘Hidden Stage.’” My palms are sweaty as I lead them to the first display. “‘Broken Masks.’” I point to the canvas. “It’s about the faces we show the world versus who we really are.”

I don’t think I breathe as they step closer. The painting shows a shattered porcelain mask that reveals glimpses of raw, vulnerable emotion underneath. Dad’s brow furrows. I swallow hard as I wait for his lecture about wasting time on frivolous pursuits.

Then his eyes widen.

“This is ... remarkable.” His voice has wonderment as he leans in for a closer look.

Mom’s hand flies to her mouth. “Madison, did you create this?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. The tension in my chest starts to unwind, replaced by a cautious hope.

“It’s sohonest,” Mom says softly. “I can feel the pain, the struggle.”

Dad turns to me, his expression softer than I’ve seen in years. “Is this how you feel, sweetheart? Like you’re hiding behind a mask?”

The lump in my throat threatens to choke me. “Sometimes,” I admit. “I just ... I want you to see me. The real me.”

Mom reaches out, her fingers hovering over the canvas. “We’re seeing you now, Madison. And it’s breathtaking.”

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