"Father, you wished to speak with me?"

I swung around on a crutch in the entrance hall, where a newly bought telephone sat on a small wooden table. I had never used a telephone before, but I heard from most people that they feared the machine. It was supposedly 'unnatural' and 'demonic'. I couldn't say I disagreed.

I spoke loud and clearly into the candlestick while holding the earpiece to my ear.

"Yes... son. I've been... quite busy so I haven't been able to visit. How have you been... doing?"

For some reason, the freaky way of communicating through the phone made me speak in a strange, mechanical way. "I am good, father. Thank you for asking. Have you been well?"

"I've been good, son... are you happy with your new home and freedom?"

"Yes, father. Everyone here is very kind."

"I hear you've been partying a lot."

I tensed up, my eyes widening as though my father was in the room with me. "Mi dispiace papa. I didn't mean to end up in the papers so often, it's just that those reporters seem to target me because of who I am."

"I know. I am not angry with you, mio figlio. The reason I've been busy is because I'm buying some of the local newspapers in Manhatten."

My jaw dropped. "W-what?"

"You won't be able to live out your teenage years in peace with reporters and journalists following your every move, will you? Owning the papers means owning our reputation. From now on, mio figlio, I don't want you to fear the news, capiche? Your father has it all under control."

"Alright, father," I said, screaming on the inside. "Thank you, father. "

"Happy birthday in advance, son. I won't be able to attend your party, but I wish you a great day."

I nodded, though my father couldn't see it. "Grazi, papa."

_____________

The day had finally arrived.

I was now seventeen years old, and one step closer to adulthood.

A twirly Jazz poured into the great hall of the estate, and from my hiding spot at the top of the stairs, I could see more and more guests arrive at the house.

Since the party was masquerade themed, I couldn't exactly make out who was who, but that only made it all the more exciting. I'd invited both lower class and high class guests, and because of the masks, there would be no room for judgement among the visitors. Everyone looked magical. Both rich and poor. That was all that mattered.

I looked down at myself and adjusted my mask to make sure the upper half of my face was obscured. My heart was racing and I hadn't stopped sweating since I'd gotten dressed.

I was wearing an evening gown.

It was blue and gold and turquoise, and it reminded me of a rare tropical bird. I straightened out my dress for the hundredth time and smiled. I was wearing a flowy, dreamy evening gown.

I must've stared at myself in the mirror for hours before leaving my room, as for the first time in seventeen years, I felt absolutely divine on my birthday.

I looked like a doll. A pretty, delicate doll who deserved to be loved and cherished.

I descended down the stairs as carefully as can be, and held on to the wooden railing for dear life with every step. The heels beneath my feet felt like stilts, but there was no shoe better fitted for the dress. The pain in my ankle would simply have to be drowned out with alcohol as soon as I made it downstairs.

"Need some help, darling?"

My eyes shot up at the helpful arm coming to my aid, and then at the man who'd extended it for me.

It was Emilio. Emilio Derivera.

"O-oh... well, yes, thank you," I said, my voice quivering pathetically. Darling? Was the man drunk?

The butler curled his arm around my waist, his other hand grabbing my hand and smoothly guiding me down the steps. "Still getting used to those shoes I see?" He asked, his cheek grazing the top of my head.

I was breathless, the cologne on Emilio's neck making me feel fuzzy. "Y-yes, my feet are currently in the process of being sacrificed."

The man laughed and the sound echoed through the stairwell, bouncing back and forth off the walls. It was loud and heavy and charming and I was instantly addicted.

"They do match your dress very well," he said, and I couldn't help but notice that the servant was purposefully slowing me down on the stairs.

"Yes, well, they should," I murmured. "They cost more than the national debt."

Again Emilio laughed, and I glanced up at him with parted lips, growing sure that I had not yet woken up, and was still tucked in bed, dreaming the day away.

"I suppose your husband must love you very much to gift you such a garment."

My brain buffered, every expression I had ever worn crossing my face in the span of a few seconds. My husband? Did I hear that right? Did he just say 'my husband?' Did he think my father was-- no, he knew my father was-- why would he say-- was it because-- oh.

I knew I had to say something. The truth was at the tip of my toungue but it's consequences were petrifying.

"I'm sorry," Emilio said. "Has your husband--"

"Passed away? Yes," I said without thinking, jumping off a diving plank into shark-infested waters.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that," Emilio said. "I hope he treated you well."

"He was lovely," I continued to lie. "He was an architect so he left me behind quite comfortably."

"I can see that."

I forced myself to smile at Emilio, and when he smiled back at me, I found in that brief exchange everything that had been missing in my life thus far.

"Well, enjoy your ball, princess," the servant said, touching my shoulder. "Be careful on those slippers. You wouldn't want to be carried out of here by me."

"Oh, most definetly not," I jested with a gasp, looking back at him as I left for the grand hall. "The scandal."

________

Emilio had believed I was a woman.

He had seen me, touched me, spoken to me, and mistaken me for some rich girl squandering her late lover's inheritance.

I touched my side, tracing the place where the manservant had held my waist so tightly.

He'd been gentle and sweet with me. He'd laughed and smiled at me.

Yes, he had believed that I was a woman, but not being hated by Emilio for five minutes turned out to be the best birthday present I could've ever asked for.

I threw back my sixth shot of vodka and slammed my fist down on the bar. "I think it's time I saw some more people on the dance floor!"

A group of men and women followed after me, and just as I declared it, we all began to dance and sing and drink like tonight was our final night on earth. The room spun but my feet spun faster, and as the night deepened, the energy didn't fade.

No one knew where Park Jimin was, for I was apparently extremely well hidden beneath my mask and evening gown, so the people sang happy birthday to the entire room, before devouring a monstrous cake together, and dancing even more vigorously.

Oh, what a celebration it was. In one night I'd been flirted with, danced with and cheered with, and it wouldn't be over for another few hours.

The room smelled of alcohol, sweat and tobacco, and I had to escape to the garden to catch my breath when oxygen became hard to find.

I ran out the front door, and the evening breeze felt like cold shower on a summer day in July.

"What a night..." I whispered into wind, closing my eyes with a content smile.

"Enjoying yourself, princess?"

My eyes opened to the sight of Emilio, who stood before me with a sly smile plastered on his face. "Yes, quite," I said, chuckling at how the man still believed me to be a lady. "I had to get some fresh hair, though."

"Can I say something terribly brazen?"

I raised my brows, though the action was slowed by the amount of alcohol in my system.

"I find you interesting."

I wheezed and looked down, my already flushed cheeks now flaming away like a stove. "Oh, do you now?"

"You look small and delicate, yet you're confidant and passionate and sassy. There's more to you than what meets the eye. I like that."

I caught my lower lip between my teeth, unsure wether the alcohol was about to make me faint, or Emilio's words. "You're right," I giggled. "That was very brazen."

"Allow me to be even more bold," Emilio purred, and suddenly we were standing chest to chest.

I fought to keep my eyes open, but the world was swaying me left to right, and I was stranded at sea.

"You're very intoxicated, aren't you?"

I was barely capable of nodding.

"Then perhaps you won't be able to remember me tomorrow. Which will be for the best."

I felt a soft sensation fall against my lips.

I was grabbed by the hips, and a toungue slipped between my teeth to explore my mouth with an insatiable greed.

Was I being kissed? An echoey voice asked. Was Emilio kissing me?

No, it couldn't be, I thought as a moan escaped my throat and my eyes rolled back in their sockets. I went on my tippy-toes, and latched on to the servant's uniform to pull him closer for more. Okay, well, maybe I was...

"You react to my kiss like a virgin," Emilio murmured, giving my trembling lips a lick. "Linda."

I couldn't be bothered to say anything. I was hypnotized and dazed, lost in the feeling of being kissed on the lips for the very first time. I was desired. I was wanted, and what a beautiful, beautiful feeling that was.

"I'm going to take off your mask, princess," Emilio whispered into my ear, though his words had to be repeated in my head a couple of times before I understood how gloriously fucked I would soon be.

"W-wait..." I stammered, but by then Emilio had already untied my mask, and the entire circus crashed down on my head.

The world had been swaying and swirling and twirling. But when I looked Emilio in the eyes without my mask, it all came to an acute stop.

The man's eyes grew wide and fearful, as though he was staring at pure, pure evil.

Was I evil? I drunkenly asked myself. Was I, a self-conscious boy with a hopeless crush, evil?

The butler gagged and doubled over, but when I expected him to throw up, he just screamed.

He screamed as though he was being murdered, and then he cried. "I k-knew it!" He yelled. "I knew it! I let the devil trick me... oh God, how could I let the devil deceive me?"

I stood montionless, the impact of the entire situation softened by many, many drinks.

"I... I don'understand you," I slurred, shaking my head as salty drops of water strolled down my face. "Why... why do hate me like this? I s-saved you... without me, you'd be dead. I saved you!"

"Saved me?" Emilio laughed sarcastically. "Of course you would think that. Of course in your eyes, I am saved. Trapped in a house filled with lost souls, and forced to serve a demon."

"I'm not a demon!" I screamed, balling my fists as I let my emotions speak. "Why would I stop my father from killing you if I was a demon? W-what I did was an act of kindness! You should be grateful!"

"You don't actually believe that, do you?" Emilio asked me, smiling and crying at the same time. "Oh God, you- you really believe that."

I wiped my runny nose, confused beyond measure by Emilio's dumbfoundedness.

"Would you have saved me if I was a woman, sir?" Emilio asked. "Or if I was an old man, sir?"

I parted my lips to speak, but no words left me.

"Do you really think you would have spared my life if it wasn't in your best interest to do so?"

"But... but I never-"

"You're not keeping me alive for my sake," Emilio spat, squinting at me with disdain. "You're keeping me alive because it pleases you. Because you're a selfish brat who treats people like pawns! You trick and deceive and take what you want like a demon!"

The man shoved me, and then he shoved me again, until I fell backwards and landed in the dirt. "You're disgusting..." he growled. "You've been clinging to me because you thought you were a hero in my story... but you're not. You will always be the villain, just like your piece of shit father."

Emilio left me after that. He stormed off, taking all his fury with him, and I felt... oddly numb.

I looked down at myself. At my blue feathers, which were now smudged with dirt and wrinkled.

To go from a kiss so gentle, to words so hateful.

I was drunk out of my mind, but my eyes finally opened, and I could understand what a blind fool I'd been all this time.

Emilio was right.

I didn't save him out of sympathy.

I did so out of lust.

I began to sob as all color faded from my life and I was left cold and grey. How could I have thought I could experience something as innocent and pure as romance? How could I have thought such a precious thing as love was in the cards for me? Me, who's watched people get butchered in the most gruesome of ways. Me, who keeps people trapped in a cage like animals.

I was the son of a crime boss.

I was the heir to the biggest bank of America.

I was a demon.

Playing pretend, was futile.

"Master Park, are you alright?"