Author's note: Thanks for adding Masks to your reading list! Enjoy!

"Oooo...Pop! Goes the Rager!

Shush everybody or the fuzz'll bring us downtown.

Oooo...Pop! Goes the Rager!

If we havin' too much fun, we'll bring the house down!"

Amir stepped off the stage to the audience's applause roaring in his ears.

It was not everyday that the lead vocalist of his band called in sick and left him with a new single to debut, but a college party as 'poppin' as this one was great for band popularity.

"Hiya!", the backup vocalist, a tall man of Somali descent, called out to him with a lady in tow.

"Phil, you all right?"

"More than alright! You were chuffed up there and this wild knees up is blinding all thanks to you."

"Oh please Phil, that's all tosh."

"Do you think that I, your closest mate here, would take the mickey on you?"

"No, but I'm no corker if that is what you meant. Anyways, are you sure that Reginald did not skive off this gig and fake the illness?"

"No..he is definitely down with the flu tonight, but aren't ya the spawny one though?"

Amir sighed and turned his head away from Phil. "I promised my parents that I wouldn't wag off from my studies if I went off to swott in England and here I am at a do, feeling as bent as a nine-bob-note."

Phil chuckled, and replied, "How are they going to know? Examinations are over. We're entitled to a break, right?", wiggling his shoulders at Amir to get his mate to loosen up.

Amir grinned and retorted, "Let's agree to disagree, shall we?"

As he tried to head for the nearest table, he heard, "That's the American in ya, isn't it?"

"No, it's the German who's too polite to say thanks," he shouted back, earning an uproar from the rest of the crowd.

As a German, American English was what he had learned since primary school, however, not being from America made the decision to go to college there both a nightmare because of tuition rates and lack of any parental supervision. Thus, when his mom had offered England as an alternative to German university, he had jumped at the chance.

At the beginning, learning British slang was like pulling teeth. Phil was the mate who was able to give this Turkish-German half-faerie prince a crash course in British speech and propriety.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be a cock up unlike other things he had done in his life, like for example, kidnapping a cursed princess for one.

Now where were those biscuits Mindy had brought?

"Amir, want a sucker?", a brunette girl asked while wiping off juice from her the corner of her mouth. "They're in the back", she said as she strutted to the cooler, picked one up and proceeded to gorge it whole. In the process, making him very uncomfortable.

"Ummm...biscuits! Would you happen to know where the chocolate digestives are at that Mindy brought?"

"Puhh", she spit the sucker's stick into a trash can in front of him and stated, "I don't know where 'Mindy' or her inedible digestives are...but I can tell you that Kelly has been looking for you. In fact...I see that trollop right on over there by the stairs."

"No thanks," Amir responded back. From his peripherals, he could already see her waving at him from afar. Better to pretend he never saw her at all than give her any ideas about him being 'interested' in her.

Quietly, he pushed Diana, the brunette girl aside and kept on moving.

"Wotcha!", a knackered Liam, mumbled when he spotted Amir and, in his forgetfulness, to watch where he was going, fell over a table and landed on the carpet. "Have you checked out the birds here?". He hiccupped before continuing, "Some of them are lasses, but others are just sla*.."

"Go home Liam. Ya steaming."

"I'm Irish...I can hold my liquor just fine...", a clearly pissed Liam answered back.

Amir took his shoulder and muttered, "I'll send ya over with Oliver. Where is that jock?"

Looking through the crowd, he spotted his Poli-Sci tutor and shouted, "Oliver! I got another one!"

Pushing his way through the party-goers, he bumped into someone and bristled when he saw it was Harry.

"Can't help ya, Harry. If you can tell, I'm skint right now," he explained before leaving.

Unfortunately, he could still earwig what Harry said after that. "That nob believes he's better all than us because of his rich parents. Bet that numpty don't care nothing 'bout the environment."

About to turn around, Phil came and escorted Amir along with Liam. "Don't throw a paddy at what he says. Let it be-he's miffed at being a scholarship student while you and me are here on our parent's good words and..."

"And their purses," Amir said. Phil eyed him to which Amir responded with, "He's right. My grades at school were lackluster at best...even in America. I was a jock over there..."

"You can never just be a jock!", Phil yelled.

"Ah...that's not...never mind. Even now, I'm probably disappointing my pops. My major is Poli-Sci and I'm spending more time on my music minor and practicing with the band than anything else."

"So what? You're just havin' fun! They need to understand we're out here like you say...living our life? Tell you what...try a bit of this punch and relax. You're probably tuckered out after that camp performance."

"What makes you think I won't paste Harry out if I take a sip of that juice?", Amir asked.

"Pssh. I made it myself. It has no alcohol that I know of."

Amir was about to decline when his guts threatened to rip apart.

"I...gotta honk," he said before bee-lining to the John. Is this what he got for tasting those shrimp appetizers before the gig?

Heaving his guts into the loo, Amir remained unaware of the screams cascading down the passageway. Finally, able to stand up, he washed his hands, stared at his face in the sink, struck a pose and reminded himself who he was-Amir, the German faerie prince.

Why was he so worried all for nothing? Honestly, his mother was too much...were the last thoughts he had before opening the door and coming face-to-face with flames higher than his head.

The sensation of singing flesh among the smell of rotting skin alerted him to the fact he was in shock. Otherwise, he would probably...nope he felt pain alright.

Screaming, he fell backward only to hit his head on the tile floor.

This was definitely a cock up.

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Author's note: And so begins Masks...

British slang is used in this first chapter as he is in England. If necessary, I'll provide translations.