Poker Face
Adam was so ready for Halloween. It was the time of year he didn't need an excuse for dressing up. Not that he ever normally needed an excuse, but still.
He made a day out of it, picking out random feather boas, masks, hats and vampire fangs. He didn't care about any other aspect. He just wanted to look amazing.
He stalked the halls of his house, pulling out various items, and halfway into getting dressed, he made his way to the bathroom and pulled out all the makeup he had, determined to perfect the look for whatever the hell he was going to be.
The music in the background had a great beat, and Adam danced around the room, in heavy, huge boots, mascara wand in his hand.
He struck poses in the mirror, well-convinced that he had the greatest face to carry off a lie, of anyone he knew.
It was one of his greatest skills.
No one could read him.
And this was especially true behind a mask.