Music. Laughter. Celebration. Harmony.

Taemin scanned the room in silence, sipping from his glass of champagne as daintily as he could. The liquid was cold, popping refreshingly on his tongue as he downed the last of it, leaving the glass on the long table behind him with the assurance that one of the smartly dressed waiters would soon remove it. Despite his relaxed posture and his searching gaze, he felt oddly nervous, oddly scared that he was in the position he was in. It almost felt surreal.

“A man with a tattoo behind his ear...” Jonghyun murmured quietly, leaning closer to Taemin to talk. They'd already greeted the fans and the acquaintances of Jonghyun’s with a smile and a brief word, not wanting to tarnish the kind-hearted, warm-spirited image he'd spent years honing and living up to. Now, sets of eyes followed Jonghyun as he moved, either infatuated or gossiping, and although his presence before Jinki’s death had held similar responses from the social ambiguity of life, these days it seemed darker, more aggressive, than the good intentions that had been held previously.

“A man with a tattoo,” Taemin confirmed, surprised yet relieved that nobody had recognised him. Although Jonghyun had convinced him of the mask’s strong disguise, Taemin had still felt odd entering the convention, where laughter mingled with the orchestral sounds and light touches were swapped for charming words and fluttered eyelashes. It truly was a gathering of the rich and the pretentious, flaunting a ‘charitable nature’ beneath the expensive masks and gowns. Upon entering, Taemin had almost choked on the strong scent of designer cologne and perfume, had almost wrinkled his nose at the wide-brimmed chandelier and beautifully large mirrors that aligned the walls, lending to the place’s grandeur.

As he peered quietly, wondering when the owner of the car dealership would make himself known, Taemin felt the eyes of various women on him, curious. He wondered if it were the mask or the mystery, but paid little attention to the flirtations. The only one he wanted to impress with his look was the man beside him, but this evening Jonghyun was as cold and as void as he'd been on the day of Jinki’s funeral.

“Hey, Taemin...” Jonghyun muttered hesitantly, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“You know how there's only a remarkably slim chance this is the right place and dealership and your guy might be on the other side of the world?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I found him.”

Taemin widened his eyes instinctively, following Jonghyun’s gaze past the plethora of mingling mask-wearers, by the grand staircase and the orchestra that played intricately. Between the masses, a tall man stood, greeting a much younger woman with a coy grin. Taemin instantly despised him. With his slicked back hair and his tight-fitting tuxedo, the small tattoo behind the middle-aged man’s ear was almost a contradiction to his refined, well-kept appearance. But Taemin had found him. ​He'd found him.

“I gotta go,” Ta