Masks.

Rating: PG. It's cute.
Summary: You work in a costume store when Mr Gabriel comes in to purchase an accesory for the night's show.

Author's Note: I wrote this while watching a DVD from them in '73. By the way, I HATE the word "masks."


I hated working until closing. I have always hated this, but I hated doing it on this job more than any other. I actually hated this job itself more than any other. I had been working at Lee Christi’s costume shop for six months now, and I still hadn’t gotten used to all the mannequins, like Lee Christi himself said I would. Oh man did I hate mannequins.

So, as if my fear of mannequins wasn’t bad enough in the daytime, it was now seven o’clock, and rather dark outside. I looked from one aisle to another, with all the mannequins at the end of every row basked in feature-heightening shadows; it was enough to give Winston Churchill the willies. I turned on the radio to keep myself company, only to find that the batteries had run out. I was tempted to ring up and old pal of mine for a distraction from the plastic people, but I knew that if Lee tried calling to “check up” on me, and the line was busy for more than two minutes, he’d have my head for sale faster than you can say “Authentic Marie Antoinette wig.” I was also incredibly tempted to close up early; there hadn’t been any customers in the past hour, and it didn’t look like any more were coming. However, I knew that if I did, well, you know what would happen.

Just as I thought the next two hours were going to be the longest chills-induced, hair-pulling hours of my entire life, the little bell at the top of the door rang signalling that someone had actually walked into the store. I was half-expecting to see some poor old woman that had walked into the store by accident, and half-expected to see some flamboyant actor that needed a full-out Henry VII costume for the premier in a half an hour since he spilled wine all over his old one. What I was not expecting to see, however, was Peter Gabriel himself walk past the boa display that stupidly hid the door from sight of the register, and up to me. He smiled, as if to say “Yes, I know you’re a huge fan, so why don’t you just come out and say it so we can all laugh about it.” So I did, and we laughed about it.

“Why thank you,” he said, bowing. “I always love to meet a fan of mine, I mean us,” he grinned sheepishly at his Freudian slip.

“Are you looking for something specific?” I asked.

“Actually, I am. We have a concert starting in about an hour, and I need a mask.” I chuckled and he raised an eyebrow nonplus.

“I’m sorry to laugh, but it always amuses me to hear someone come in saying that they are looking for a mask, or a wig, or a costume.”

“But, aren’t you a costume store?”

“Oh, yes, indeed we are. I only found it amusing because it is so vague. We have hundreds of masks, wigs, and costumes. So, to say you are simply looking for a mask makes me laugh.”

“Ooh, I see now,” he said and smiled. “To be specific, I am looking for an old man’s mask; something relatively eerie looking, but not scary.”

“Here, I’ll show you all of our masks.” I twitched a little.

“Are you ok?” Peter concernedly asked. I chuckled.

“Yeah, I just hate that word. It’s the s, consonant, s combination that drives me nuts. I hate saying that.” I had made my way around the counter by now and plopped a “be right back” sigh in the middle of the surface area.

“My, you sure are an interesting person,” he said smiling down at me. “I like that.” I couldn’t help but smile, he was adorable. I led him down one of the aisles, keeping a suspicious eye on the mannewuins. I turned around to look at Peter, and I found him doing the same thing. When I pointed this out to him, he laughed.

“Normally, they don’t freak me out, but it’s just that a plastic person dressed as a dungeon master at night creeps me out a little.” I smiled, with him doing the same thing. We finally reached the wall of masks, I realised that I forgot my keys to get behind the counter and actually get the masks up front.

“No problem,” Peter said. “I’ll hoist you over, no problem.” I grinned slightly, nodding my head “ok”. He walked over, and put one arm behind my back and one behind my knees. “One, two,” he said, and on three he lifted me up and placed me gingerly on top of the counter. He let go, and I slid behind it.

“Thanks,” I smiled at him and he bowed again, saying your welcome. When he stood back up, he smiled widely. I noticed that other than the fact that he had a lovely smile, he was wearing a bit of eye make up, and it made him look gorgeous. We stood there for a few seconds smiling at each other, until I realised that he was here to get a mask, and I needed to get it to him before his show.

“So, an old man mask,” I said turning and looking up at the wall. I finally found the cluster of elderly people masks, and pointed them out to Peter.

“Well, we can definitely eliminate all the old women, which leaves those three,” he motioned a little circle with his delicate hand. I saw the ones he meant, and got the ladder to take them down. I laid them out on the counter: one was a very creepy old man with warts and such; one was just a wrinkly looking face; and, the last one was a creepy old man, but it was the only one that wasn’t a full face mask. It had an open spot where the mouth was, which I thought was perfect for him, being a singer after all. Apparently, Peter thought the same thing, since he picked it up and tried it on. Its white hair was accented with bits of silver, and its face was eerie looking with Peter’s own mouth doing the talking.

“It’s perfect,” he said with it still on, “I’ll take it.” I smiled, nodded my head, and put the ladder away. When I got back to the counter, I was trying to figure out how to get back over. I managed to hop up onto it, after which Peter took me behind the back and knees again, helping with my descent. While I was being picked up, I noticed that the mask was still on, and it was indeed eerie. Before he put me back down on the floor, he held me aloft for a little bit, with us looking into each other’s eyes. I had some how gotten my arms up and around his neck; perhaps it had been for stability purposes. I took my right arm that was up around his neck, reached up, and pulled off his mask. I was there, in Peter Gabriel’s arms, approximately six inches from his face. We were still looking at one another for a little while longer, with me suspended in his arms, when he kissed me. He kissed me right on the lips, in his arms, with me holding his old man mask in the other hand. The only thing that stopped us from continuing this wonderful moment was the sound of someone clearing his throat behind us. Peter pulled away from me, and we turned to see who was watching. My mouth dropped in absolute horror to see none other than Mr. Lee Christi standing behind us, arms firmly crossed in front of him. Peter put me down and took the mask from me.

“Mr. Christi, I can explain – ” I started to say, but he put his hand up to stop me.

“I think you’ve done enough,” he said. “I’ll finish up with this customer, and I’ll close up. You can go home.”

“When do you want me to come in tomorrow?” I asked.

“Don’t.” he looked me right in the eye. I knew I had been fired from the second he cleared his throat, but I was just trying to get a few more seconds with Peter, who had somehow managed to get his arm around me.

“Ok then. I’ll just get my stuff, and I’ll go.” I said and walked to the back room to gather my stuff. When I emerged a few minutes later, Peter was no where to be found, but Lee was counting money and putting it in the drawer. I solemnly walked out, and walked straight into Peter.

“I was waiting for you,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for getting you fired.” He looked in my eyes sadly.

“No, really, it’s ok. I hated it there anyway, all the mannequins and things.”

“Oh, ok then.” He smiled, shuffled his feet, and fiddled with the mask bag. “Hey, I have a gig in about ten minutes, I should get over there.”

“Yeah, you probably should.” I said, mentally cutting the tension in the air with a straw.

“Hey, do you want to go? I can get you backstage and such,” he smiled at me, with sparkle in his eyes.

“That would be great.” He took my hand, and we walked down the street to his gig. We made it there just in time, and when they got to the end of “The Musical Box”, and Peter put on the old man mask, it looked great if I do say so myself.