"Last item on the agenda: Sunday is the Halloween party. You are all attending," Su Ryeon announces to the members of Silverstone and the management team.

 

"Who's even celebrating Halloween in Korea?" Dong Hu, the group's rapper asks.

 

"Diane Crawford, the business mogul financing your next tour. Any more questions?" Her sharp look implies that questions are far from welcome.

 

"Do we get a plus one?"

 

"If you're referring to your pre-approved costume, yes."

 

They start to complain.

 

"Are you going to be there?" Logan's voice, which hasn't been heard for the whole meeting, cuts through the noise.

 

"Be ready by eight."

 

----/—-

 

Diane Crawford's villa is overflowing with festive decorations. Logan finds it a bit tacky, too American even for him. But he likes the spooky ambience she went for, every wall is covered with fake cow webs and black tulle hangs from the ceiling, like pieces of darkness. It's not a party they have to perform at, thankfully. But they do have to schmooze with rich people and make them interested in their new project.

 

He takes a blood red drink from the waiter, noticing the crystal skulls adorning the glass. The organizers have minded every last detail.

 

"So what can we expect from your next work? New musical themes?" Inquires a suit clad man, whom he recognises as head of an advertising agency.

 

He takes a sip of his drink, wondering if it makes his teeth red as if he was a vampire on his last meal. Not being able to do anything about it, he engages in explaining the band's new ideas about their next music venture. The man nods encouragingly, clearly not interested in Logan's thoughts about music, but in how he could promote and sell them.

 

To his dismay, more people join the conversation and he finds himself in his zombie warrior costume listening to marketing strategies for the songs he spent sleepless nights writing. It's soul-crushing, his talent and effort to be received so clinically, as if it was something they could quantity and package neatly. Yet, that's exactly what they do.

 

He sneaks a look to find the familiar faces of his band mates and comes empty. He excuses himself from the group discreetly and heads to the bar area, when he spots her.

 

She sports emerald contact lenses, lending her eyes a serpentine allure. Her usually rosy lips are now a bold crimson and artfully smudged. As he approaches, he takes in her black strapless dress. It's purposefully torn, resembling one of a witch that just fought evil spirits. A part of the flowing skirt is semi transparent, giving him a tantalizing peek of creamy skin, before her legs disappear into red strappy heels.

 

He can't look away.

 

She raises her green eyes and meets his. It's electric, like gazing at a mythical creature. Yet, no more captivating than the sight of her every day.

 

It's but a fleeting moment before the man beside her recaptures her focus with something long-winded and unboundedly boring. Logan wonders if the swords of his costume would cut flesh. 

 

He strides toward her and swings positions himself between her and her companion. He offers him a tight smile, hoping he'll get the hint. 

 

"You came," he smiles, offering her a black cocktail.

 

"It's a work event." She accepts and takes a small sip.

 

"You tell me," he huffs.

 

The man excuses himself, with a hand on Su Ryeon’s elbow. She nods politely and catches Logan's stare. 

 

"Made any interesting connections?"

 

"Interesting? No."

 

She laughs, her spooky make-up making her face-

 

"You look cute." Not the thing he should be saying to his boss. Yet, he can't help himself. He has no filter when it comes to her. 

 

"Me? I was going for scary." She pouts. Adorably. 

 

"You don't scare me. Not now, anyway," he adds, making her chuckle.

 

"My daughter helped me with the makeup." She gestures at her face proudly.

 

"Was she angry at you?" He jokes, earning a sharp elbow to his ribs.

 

"Hey!" But she can't hide her smile.

 

They laugh together as they work the room, mingling with new people as she connects him to them seamlessly like they are old friends.His reluctance to talk to new people subsides, as she introduces executives by their first name and talks up Logan’s music. She loops her arm through his elbow and makes witty remarks about people's costumes. Not one to linger for long, she opts to make rounds and give me a break from networking. Strangely, it’s not as daunting with her. There are more Squid Game contestants than in the series itself, and all kinds of devils and angels, with fluffy wings and revealing dresses.

 

He feels himself relax for the first time that night.

 

---

 

"How do you do it? All these people. You talk to everyone like you don't find them annoying.” After an appropriate amount of mingling, with her introducing him to important people and steering the conversations towards his musical endeavors, he leads them outside, away from the lights of the party. He wanted to ask her that for a long time. She's handling everything so elegantly, the people -artists and businessmen alike- hanging on her every word. Meanwhile, he can't stand these crowds.

 

"It's part of the job. And they're not all annoying.”

 

He opens his mouth to disagree.

 

"I used to host a lot of parties.” She looks pensive as they walk through the gardens. A line of lanterns illuminates their path. "I was married." He knew that, but not any more details of her past, before she took over the company. “He had a high position and often had me host parties and dinners for the people he wanted to impress. As if I didn't have a job of my own.”

 

"He sounds awful.” 

 

"He was. But I didn't mind entertaining the people or the late nights. What bothered me is that he expected that of me. He never said thank you."

 

"And took all the credit for your efforts, I presume.” She nods, standing before the bridge of the small japanese-style lake. He’s been in mansions before but never with her. "But you fought and got out. And got your children out too.”

 

"Yes. I did. And all these hours talking to strangers now come in handy in my job everyday. So, it wasn't all for nothing.” 

 

They're in the middle of the bridge, looking at the house in the distance. 

 

"You're amazing.” 

 

She turns to him, expression unreadable. "You say that to all your managers," she tries to lighten the mood.

 

"I'm serious." He keeps his eyes on hers, begging her to understand. "You took your life in your hands, you've worked your way to the top of the agency, all while remaining a thoughtful, kind person."

 

"How do you know I'm all that?" she asks, voice so soft it pickles his jaw. 

 

"I can see it, even when you're yelling at me." He raises a hand and brushes a lock of her hair behind her ear. She blinks and a corner of lifts. "That's all I see."

 

It's surreal, but despite the proverbial mask of her costume, he can see her better than ever. She's real, smooth skin under his fingers. All the warmth and love behind the curtains of her eyes.

 

Big brown eyes tracing his every move. Normally, this is the moment one of them would yell, anything to not get real. She’d tell him about the people he should meet, and he’d fight back with arguments about his position. It’s a known path, one they’ve engaged for the last years. Yet, he trembles, venturing into the unknown. All the arguing a gossamer veil to what he really wants. 

 

Burying his hand on her hair, he closes the gap between them, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. For a second her lips are cold, but as she moves them between his, they come alight. His eyes are closed, making him feel every tiny movement of her sensuous mouth, luring him into her. He nibbles at her lips, tasting a sweetness he can't describe. Music could be written, just for this kiss. He opens his mouth and slides his tongue over hers, deepening their connection. Melodies are exploding in his chest.

 

She pushes herself closer to him, making his heart beat faster at her affection. He feels her delicate hands anchoring his chest, his own descending to the small of her back. He caresses her lace covered backside he’s spent so much time admiring, mapping the way her muscles move as she brings her hands to lock on the back of his neck.

 

With a final bite at his lower lip which almost undoes him, she breaks the kiss. Unwilling to open his eyes, he rests his forehead on hers, treasuring the moment. He's trying to catch his breath, but she took it all away. Cold fingers touch his lips and he kisses them on instinct.

 

Su Ryeon lets out a breath and he opens his eyes to hers. She's removing her blood red lipstick from his lips. He takes her hand in his and kisses her fingers again.

 

"This was..." She averts her eyes momentarily. "But we can't."

 

He's too stunned to argue with her, hands instantly holding her tighter.

 

"Logan. I'm sorry." She says as if she didn't gift him the most magical seconds of his life. "I should go."

 

She moves to leave but he holds her hand. There's so much he wants to say.

 

"I can wait for you."

 

He kisses her knuckles and a second later she's disappeared into the thick greenery of the gardens.

 

The warrior stands alone, the loss of his princess tugging at his heartstrings.

 

He will win her heart, he promises to the darkness surrounding him. The darkness stares back.