Celeste
The cool weight of the mask settled in my hands, and the mirror inside the bathroom reflected a young woman struggling with her identity. Fiona’s words still rang in my ears.
Was I really becoming too attached to my ‘Rose’ persona? Was I using it as a crutch instead of facing the real world with its judgments and challenges?
The mask, beautifully crafted and mysterious, represented a freedom I hadn’t known before. But now, it also felt like chains, binding me to a lie that was growing harder and harder to maintain.
I glanced at Fiona through the mirror, noticing the look of disappointment in her eyes. It stung, like salt in an open wound.
“You’re right,” I admitted, my voice faltering. “I’ve been using ‘Rose’ as a way to escape. But now, it’s becoming too tangl
