Page 1 of The Masks We Wear
PART 1: JUNG
[OCTOBER, JUNIOR YEAR]
I walk out onto the terrace after letting my friends know I need some fresh air. It’s a flimsy pretense considering how much smoke floats around downtown New York City, but I don’t care. My friends are too drunk to call me out on it or notice—why would they? We’re college students raging hard on Halloween night in a student-rented apartment building. After all, I’m Jung Choo, the life of the party most nights, and my crew and I always have a good time.
Tonight, though, I need a change. Hence why I’m sneaking out through a stairwell leading outside on the third floor of this building. The scent of weed, cigarettes, and candy permeates each room in this multistory den of carefree vice. People are hooking up in half the rooms, and presumably on the rooftop as well, considering it’s an unseasonably warm autumn night.
Still, donned in my Black Panther costume, I walk out onto the terrace, seeking a modicum of privacy. My hopes of solitude extinguish when I see another person already hunched over the ledge. He’s wearing a hoodie over a Spider-Man costume, and his body language screams relaxed.
“Oh, uh, my bad.” I absent-mindedly wipe my hands on my blue jeans as I hesitate to move forward. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you and, uh…I’ll go…”
“You didn’t interrupt me.” His voice is deep, reverberating to my very core. I detect a slight Southern drawl, and his calves and thighs show me he’s a physically active dude. It’s been so long since I’ve had any type of action that the very presence of a new man has rendered me an anxious mess. “In fact, there’s plenty of room out here on the terrace for both of us, Kitty Cat.”
I chuckle, body frozen in place. “It’s Black Panther.”
“I know.” He points to his face mask, and even without seeing his eyes, it’s clear he’s telling me “Duh.”
“And you’re Spider-Man. So we’re friends.” I cringe at my lame retort. I’m grateful that he can really only see my lips, and not the embarrassment in my eyes.
Masked mystery dude chuckles, and I can tell he’s amused. He turns his body half toward me, and his Spidey costume hugs his pecs in all the right ways.Get a grip, Jung. No dude has been interested in you in over a year, so stop projecting.
“I guess we are friends,” he says. His drawl is getting stronger, possibly from being tipsy, and it does nothing to quell my instant attraction to him. “Nice to meet you, Kitty Cat.”
My lips quirk at his nickname for me. “Nice to meet you, Superhero.” I cautiously approach him, pulled in by an unseen thread.
He chuckles again. “I like that.”
“Do you go to the U?” I shake my head at my lame pick-up line. “What am I saying? Of course you do. Unless…you’re some creepo who waltzed in here. If you are, then…”
He laughs. “No, I’m a student. Just transferred here for my junior year.” He flashes his ID badge, with his hands covering his name. The face is faint in the dim light of the night, but his lanyard is updated to include this year. I compile and compartmentalize as many of these clues as I can in order to let my guard down. I wanted to relax on this terrace alone, but Superhero’s presence comforts me.
“Welcome.” I lean on the ledge, then stop, straightening my back. “You could have taken that ID from someone. Plus, I haven’t seen your face. How do I know you’re not gonna murder me? Or push me off the building? Or rob me blind? I’m warning ya, pal, I ain’t got money.”
He laughs once again. “Yer cute. For the record, I can’t see the majority of your face either.”
“Oh.” I touch my chin and try to ground myself. I’m overwhelmed by him calling me cute; two-words and I’m reduced to a frozen, nervous wreck.
“Would it make you feel better if I take off my mask, Kitty Cat?” Before I can protest, he pulls it up to above his nose. “There. Now we’re even.” He grins, and the orange of the streetlights makes the freckles on his lower cheek shine. His skin is light, but dark in certain angles somehow, and his lips are full.
I’ve never been this attracted to a chin.
“I guess we are.”
“Hey, you haven’t shown me your ID either.” He smirks at me, and I lean forward. We’re a few feet away from each other on the ledge. “How do I know you’re not the murderer?”
“If I wanted to, I would’ve done it by now, wouldn’t I? Swatted you with a rolled up newspaper like the spider you are.” I shake my head quickly. “That was a lame joke. I’m sorry.”
“You got a sick sense of humor.”
“I’m sorry, again,” I say while cringing.
“I like it. It’s chill and unique.” He chuckles and my heart rate rises. Before I can freak out further at this super attractive stranger, I whip out my ID and flash it to him. Like Superhero, I blurred out my name. Maybe he saw my face, maybe he didn’t, but he seems satisfied with the quick glimpse at my identity.
“So, Superhero…”
“Is that my name now?”
“Yeah, yes it is.” We both chuckle, and I scooch a few inches closer to him. We look out at the streets below, ambient noise being the regular soundtrack to New York City. “Why transfer to the University?”
