“To live without you is to be robbed of love
and what is life without it?
To live without you is death to me, my love
but some call it life.”

                                                             - Rumi

Incheon, South Korea


 

The soft strains of music fills the air as a crowd of beautiful people mingle beneath dazzling chandeliers. Jewelry flash and gowns flirt and flutter within the exquisite ballroom as a string quartet weaves its enchantment.
 

The theme tonight is Seduction.
 

All who are present don a glittering mask, provided courtesy of the vodka company hosting the event.  The disguise adds a tantalizing hint of mischief and danger though it does nothing to hide their true identities for only those worth noting were present at the private event.
 

Rumors were rife that more wicked pleasures could unfold soon. They were watching one man in particular, waiting with anticipation to see what he would do.  Like a prince holding court, he lounged in a leather chair by the large windows, barely acknowledging the group of laughing and flirting people around him. A drink dangled in his hand.
 

Ji Chang Wook knew what they were waiting for. Lately he'd gained a reputation for shocking behavior. Though nothing too scandalous. Just enough to amuse the inner circle who thrived on indulging their hedonistic pleasures away from the public's eyes.

Swim parties at night, completely . Champagne fountains served by scandalously dressed (if you could call it that) hostesses. His recent 30th birthday celebration with a Vegas theme had involved a starlet jumping out of a giant cake and scantily clad go-go dancers. Admittedly cliché, but he hadn't been the one who planned it. And he couldn't deny that for a few minutes it had amused him.

But then he had felt bored again.

He gazed cynically at the people around him. There was no one worth knowing. Just the usual crowd of hanger-ons and jaded people with too much money or too little aim.

They had all gathered tonight in this hidden mansion away from the watchful eyes of the media. Officially, this invite-only event was to celebrate the launch of the luxury vodka company into the South Korean and Asian markets. Unofficially it was just another way for the bored rich and beautiful to see and be seen. Since the night was also to announce him as their new spokesperson, Chang Wook could technically be considered the man of the hour. But being feted and indulged did not suit his mood tonight.
 

He sips his drink, a concoction the sponsor had named in honor of him as the new face of their product. It wasn't bad. He usually went for the harder drinks. Straight. Neat. But this would do just fine to drown out the rest of it.
 

"Wookie-oppa..."

A voice interrupts his thoughts. Chang Wook doesn't bother to respond. They're not on set, therefore he did not feel obliged.

"Wookie-oppaaa.." a hand grabs his arm and shakes it.

Chang Wook raises one eyebrow which was about the measure of f*ks he had to give. He hadn't known his co-star would be here.  After all, the event wasn't for little princesses. Especially those with tightly guarded images. Perhaps she had escaped her manager's clutches tonight.

"Are you going to just sit all night and drink?"

He shrugs. What else was one to do at a night celebrating vodka?

"Oppaa..." the voice continues relentlessly, "Come and get something to eat with me."

Chang Wook sighs and does get up; but, instead of heading to the tables where the hors d'ouevres were waiting, he walks the opposite direction straight through the french doors that led out to a terraced balcony. The night's air felt cool up in the hills where the mansion stood. From a distance he could see lights of the nearby city and, even further, the port and the dark ocean waters.
 

He reaches into the pocket of his jacket for his cigarettes and lighter.
 

"You really shouldn't. It's bad for you," her heels echo behind him. 
 

With slow, deliberate movements he lights one up then takes a deep, long drag and blows out the smoke. Not in her face, that would be bad form even for him. But he enjoys how it fills his lungs and teases his nostrils and throat. He's tried to quit so many times in the past but he hasn't bothered in a while. What was the point of denying himself.

He might as well seek pleasure. 

He hears her humph softly and then the click of her heels as she walks away. She wasn't a bad sort. Pampered and spoiled like many others in their industry. But that wasn't his problem with her.

No, his problem was that she, the project, all of this was a chain around his neck. He'd bided his time over the last couple of years but in a few short, sweet months he would be free. And the closer he got to that date, the sweeter freedom seemed.

And the more terrified he felt.

Because, when you take away Ji Chang Wook the Hallyu Star; stripped away the glamour and the fame and the mask he wore daily -- underneath... you would find nothing.

Nam Ji Hyun was juggling yet another tray through the hallways when her foot started cramping. She lowered the tray carefully on a a little side table so she could catch a breath and stretch that muscle out. She was on her way to bring tiny porcelain spoons filled with minuscule quail eggs and caviar over to the ballroom; but she was feeling a little light-headed. Maybe it was the heat of the kitchen; or maybe it was all these steps going up and down.

Or maybe, she notes wryly as her stomach growls, it was because she hadn't eaten anything since lunch. But she was too scared she would be accused of stealing if she tried a bite of any of the fancy food here and besi