Madeleine Upton unlocked the door to her apartment complex, heading through the small corridor towards the stairs to her residence. On the way, her neighbor, a charming man in his early thirties, gave her a smile in passing which the woman swiftly returned.

"Miss Upton, I see you have just returned from work," he commented, pausing midway down the stairs. She nodded, "Certainly, it has been a long day. I assume you will start your night shift now?"

"Yes, I am on my way to work", the neighbor confirmed, eager to converse. "Have a great evening, then," she concluded and before her neighbor could say anything else, the woman climbed the stairs in a hurry, leaving him behind.

When she reached the entrance, she inserted the key and the door unlocked.

Entering her dark flat, Madeleine closed the door behind her, locking it again.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, her shoulders dropped, exhaustion making itself evident. She was thankful that she had managed to escape small-talk as soon as possible. Communication was not her strongest quality.

The woman took her shoes off – first the right one, then the left – and as she stepped on the floor, feeling the cold cracking wood beneath her feet, she took her long, beige coat and carefully hung it onto the rack alongside her brown purse.

In the dark, she made her way through the narrow corridor, her fingers gliding along the wall for orientation, only to step into her bedroom, illuminated by the full moon's reflection.

Slowly, she began to undress herself. First, her socks, then her beige sweater fell to the ground and lastly, her black pants followed after. Leaving a trail of clothes behind on the ground, now just covered in white underwear, she released her pony tail, removing her hair tie along with it. Her light brown hair freely dangled down her narrow shoulders.

Madeleine's gaze fell upon the chair in front of her vanity table. She sat down, observing the movements of her reflection as her fingers ran through several strands of her hair, pausing at her temple. It took her a few moments of pulling to undo and as soon as the wig came off, she quickly cast it aside, throwing it onto her gray bed sheets.

She grabbed the bottle of make-up remover, swiping it with a cotton pad across her face. A thin layer of powder, lipstick and mascara came off, smearing sticking to the lump of cotton in her hand which she discarded in the garbage can below her table.

In a careful manner, she reached for her eyes, removing her blue colored contact lenses in one swift motion, putting them in a small blue box for reuse next to one brown and one green case. Unfazed, she eyed the reflection in the mirror. One thing was still left to undo.

Madeleine's bony hands cupped her facial features, tugging at the skin, taking off the human mask she had put on.

Finally, she had uncovered her true face of the empty, hollow person she was.

Behind her, several mannequins surrounded her, each one differing in clothing, make-up and hair style – blonde, black, brunette, red - almost as if they were keeping an eye on her.

She turned back to the mirror again, focusing on her dim reflection in the moonlight, posing one single question to her faceless self:

"Well? Which person will we be tomorrow?"