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"What do you want to talk about masks for? It's such a tired cliché."

"You're one of the only people I know who never lets their mask slip."

"Should I? Should I want the world to see all of the things I hold inside? When my soul stretches unbearably to break through an old shell, should the world see the tears I cry? Why on earth would I want that?" She adds a little more red to her lower lip.

"You'll only hurt yourself, in the end."

"Will I?"

"Yes. You'll regret lying to the world, to yourself."

She laughs and shrugs. "I already paid the price, darlingest. And what I got for it was tailored perfectly for me. I was sewn into this."

"Custom made," comes a petulant echo, the owner of the voice not understanding.

"Yes," she says, turning and smiling a brilliant, perfect smile. "And isn't it beautiful?"

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