The moon is like the phantom of the sky. People can only appreciate its presence at night, and only a few could see its true power because everybody sleeps at night. But Dara admires how the moon was fine with that, doing its job without a single reaction or whine.

She looked through the vanity mirror in front of her to know the time. It was just six fifty-five. Five more minutes until the masquerade party starts. Five more minutes to think of a plan to save the company.

Sandara pulled her skirt up, and strapped a garter around her thigh. She made sure it was tight, but still her blood can still properly flow and slid a sheathed knife to the garter. It was one of the techniques her father taught her, to be armed and ready.

She pulled down her skirt and opened one of the drawers, where her mask was hidden. It was her mother’s mask when she used to visit masquerade parties or balls back then when she was still alive, and Bom found it in the boxes in the attic so she could use it to the party. Sandara smiled at the mask, and wore it on. She felt like the Phantom in the Phantom of the Opera or Masquerade.

There was a light knock on the door, and Sandara quickly stood up, whispering a soft “Fighting!” to herself. She did a quick twirl, looking at herself one more time and walked towards the door, twisting the knob. Bom was waiting on the other side, wearing her maid uniform and as soon as Dara opened the door, she said, “It’s about to start.”

Bom whistled and commented, “You look y in a ball gown. It’s just a waste your stepmother chose a black and white motif. Pink would’ve looked better on you.”

Sandara closed the door, and quickly asked, “Did you eavesdrop? Did the investors talk about drug dealings?”

They start to walk down the flight of stairs. Bom holds Sandara’s arm and answers, “Some of the investors that signed when your father was still the CEO only talked about food dealings allover the world and they seemed to be clueless about the drug dealings. But I heard the other investors that signed when your stepmother was the CEO, and her colleagues talk about drug dealings at Gangnam, Samcheong-dong, Namnam-dong and other parts of South Korea.”

“Any particular target?” Sandara asked and stopped walking before they reach the end of the stairs. Bom scanned the crowd before them, and then pointed at a man wearing a black beaded mask at the far corner of the room, talking to Sandara’s stepmother.

“Your stepmother has been talking to him quite often lately. He must’ve been that very important to the company or whatever. I pick him as a target.” Bom said, and took her grip off Sandara’s arm. Before she finally flew off, she whispered, “Good luck.”

Sandara gulped, and looked down to her feet, suddenly feeling shy all of a sudden. Ever since she was five, Bom was the only person she had been friends with, that’s why she’s socially awkward. Without Bom, Sandara felt useless and shy. And to add to her misery, she felt shy with her shoulders, because they were bare.

She took a very deep breath, and released it with a collective sigh. The air was full of chatter and socialization, a kind she wasn’t used to. It’s going to be hard, to be one of them. But Sandara knew it was now or never. Spending twenty years locked up shall now be ended, today.

Sandara clutches the sides of her ball gown and lifted it one inch up, so that she could walk properly and with ease. She started to walk, but only stopped by her mother’s voice echoing around the room with the use of the microphone. Everyone stopped in their businesses as soon as her stepmother said the word, “Attention.”. Sandara was trapped in the middle of the room, and she felt like her stepmother was staring at her. It was a ridiculous thought, but it felt really real because her stepmother’s eyes were focused on the people where she belongs.

Sandara sighs and said to herself, “You’re wearing a mask, idiot. She won’t recognize you.”

Her stepmother tapped the microphone and said with a smile, “I would like to thank everyone for attending this party. The investors, my coworkers, some of my late husband’s company employees, and the media. This party has marked the success of the company, and my success as an artist. Let’s celebrate with it, and dance!”

And as if on cue, the speakers installed all around the room played a nice mellow music. Everyone started to dance with the opposite beside them, and Sandara was left alone.

“If you’re not going to turn around, I’ll find another partner.”

Sandara carefully whipped her body around and saw the man Bom pointed out earlier, whom she marked as the most important man inside the room. He smiled, widely and Sandara was left into thoughts. She saw that smile a while ago.

The man bowed, courtly, and Sandara imitated his actions in a female way. He outstretched his hands, and she accepted it gratefully, still in a mental shock. He places his other hand gingerly on her hip as she places also her other hand on his shoulder. Sandara studied the parts that are uncovered by the mask, trying to figure out who’s behind it.

She suddenly gasped, shocking her partner and in a feeble voice, she said, “Kwon Jiyong?”

“I’m amazed you know my real name.” He answered bewilderment in his voice. “Only a few people and one stranger know that.”

“What’s your relationship with my stepmother?” Sandara asked as they both twirl.

Jiyong clicked his tongue against his teeth and answered, “Well, she told me she liked me and she courted me but I turned her down. We remained friends and—Wait, why am I even telling you this? Who are you?” He snapped.

“Sandara Park.” She answered.

Jiyong’s forehead creased, and the subject suddenly dawned to him. He whispered, “Ahjumma slippers!”

Sandara asks, “Am I one of the few people who knows your name?”

Jiyong shakes his head and answers, “Actually, you’re the stranger.”

“Oh.” Her lips turned into a firm straight line; Jiyong could only nod in agreement. Sandara sighed, melancholy, pressing her lips tightly and like magic had cast upon her, she energetically asked him, “You have to help me.”

“How can I help you?” Jiyong asked, dubiously smiling.

“It’s-“

“Oh, sorry GD.”

Sandara was cut off by a voice, a voice she knew too well not to be recognized.  It was her stepmother. Sandara stayed frozen in her spot, as her stepmother clings onto Jiyong.

“I’m afraid I haven’t introduced you properly to my daughter. GD this is Sandara and Sandara this is GD, my boyfriend.” Her stepmother seductively said, moving her hand up and down Jiyong’s chest. A pang of pain hit Sandara’s chest, but she still chose to linger in her spot.

“Oh no, Sandara. I’m not your mother’s boyfriend.” Jiyong denied, and harshly took off stepmother’s hand from his chest. He turned to her stepmother, and said, “Excuse me, Michelle. I’m going to be with my friends.”

Sandara’s stepmother watched with wide eyes as Jiyong left her hanging in her spot. Sandara mentally laughed and said to herself, “Turned down.”

Michelle, Sandara’s stepmother, quickly cut her daughter’s rejoiced with a single snap and glare. She grabbed her daughter’s arm, and demanded, “What are you doing here?”

“Partying?” Sandara suggested, scared.

“I always told you not to associate with people besides the people we are with inside the house, did I?” Michelle said with gritted teeth, and Sandara could only nod.

“Guards!” Michelle shouted, and the music stopped, as well as the people dancing. A line of men quickly appeared behind Sandara’s stepmother, all with a mask on their faces and in unison, bowed.

“Lock her up in her room!” Michelle dragged Sandara to the guards, and one lifted her up like a sack of rice, hanging on his shoulder. Sandara flailed and resisted but the guards were stronger. Then, she quickly remembered the blade she strapped to her thigh, the only thing she can count on for now. And without coy, she lifted up her skirt and retrieved the blade. She quickly unsheathed it, and slashed the arm of the guard holding her. He dropped to his knees, and Sandara used the momentum to run. She cut her ball gown with the blade, and transformed it into a knee-length dress. It was a good thing she wore boots and jeans underneath.

“Follow her!” She heard her stepmother scream, but Sandara’s determination only filled her heart so she continued to run away.

She threatened every guard that will block her way with the blade, so her escapade ran smoothly. The time she reached the district, she had completely lost the guards.

There was a throbbing by her feet, and Sandara touched it with her fingertips. She felt a warm liquid, dripping out of her flesh and when she looked at her thigh, she saw blood. Her mind started to become fuzzy, she didn’t remember anything how she got the wound or how did she end up getting the wound.

“Where am I?” was the only word that escaped her lips and she fainted on the ground.