The Masked Singer

- DELETED SCENES -

- DELETED SCENES - 

Alex starts the song again, which sends chills down my spine. The song sounds amazing, but Alex doesn't feel like it's finished yet.

"Can we go for a lunch break and then come back? The fresh air might clear your mind," I suggest.

"We need to get this finished by the end of the day," Alex reminds me, "Which melody do you like?" he asks.

Before Alex can play the guitar again, I throw my pen at his leg to distract him.

"No matter how many times you play that tune, it still sounds utterly amazing to me," I say.

"One more time?" he asks.

"Sure, but I'm lying on the ground." I slip off my chair, and spread out on the ground. Tucking my arms behind my head as a prop, I stare up at Alex.

"What are you on the ground?" He frowns.

"Because I'm running low on energy, Alex, I'm starving."

He starts playing the tune for the song, and I close my eyes and truly listen to the melody floating through the air. I feel relaxed when I sing the lyrics, like I'm really able to connect to the words.

"Perfect," he says after the last chord.

I sit up right quickly, shocked at what he's just said.

"Done?" I have to ask, "You're satisfied with the song?"

"Yes, I think it was the way you were singing it before," he says, "You sounded, free."

"Free?" I shrug my shoulders, "I'm just glad to have the song finished," I admit.

"As am I, we have an interview tomorrow, and I didn't want it taking up our time," says Alex.

"We have an interview?" I ask

Yes, Mitch told me," he responds, "I also hear they've appointed you a manager – should be here this afternoon."

"How do you know, and I don't?" I'm baffled, you'd think they would tell me something.

"Connections." He winks.

Alex helps me off the ground and I straighten out my ruffled clothing.

"Where do you want to eat?" I ask.

"Near the beach," says Alex immediately.

Because of the instant answer, I'm curious to why he wants to eat by the beach again, we had dinner there before, wouldn't have want to go somewhere else? I understand he thinks it's relaxing, but we're just eating lunch.

"Why?" I ask.

"I miss home," he confesses, "And it's comforting to be near the beach, it makes me feel like I'm not so far away from the people I love." He puts on a fake smile.

"How long have you been in America away from your family?"

"Too long." His sad voice closes the conversation for any other questions.