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Another pumpkin with ominous cutouts inside is sent to the corner—where dozens of empty, hard-root vegetables are waiting in the wings, which are in special demand on the main mystical day of the year. Wonbin indifferently watches how Sohee deftly handles a knife, sharpened to sharp edges the day before (Chanyoung managed to pierce two of his fingers and end up in the hospital with a lot of stitches). On the other edge of the table are decorative candles bought by Seunghan and a massive lighter that Sohee stole from him. Wonbin turns his gaze to the side and looks at his reflection in the mirror—as always, the flawless, impeccable smoothness of his skin is blinding, truly personifying “dollness”. Nodules appear on Wonbin's cheekbones.
Porcelain.
Everyone he meets considers it their duty to face the fact that Wonbin looks like a porcelain doll, one of those that gather dust on collectors’ shelves, untouchable and empty. A fabulous price shines in the glass eyes, weakening with every crack on the pretty face from the inexorability of time. Wonbin smiles wryly and mentally curses other people’s admiration. However, it's just as empty inside as the porcelain prototype.
"Hey, Wonbin, how do you like that smile?"
Sohee shakes the pumpkin in front of him, intending to let it fly by pulling the stem too fast.
"Wonderful. The Joker would be delighted."
Wonbin says this about every pumpkin, every year, since he, Sohee and Chanyoung lived on the same campus. He doesn’t even try to balance the interests of the younger ones, preferring to match his image of a cold, arrogant guy. Seunghan calls him Edward Cullen, naively believing that Wonbin will actually embody the image of the popular vampire on some Halloween night. But Wonbin breaks another's dreams every year.
"Have you already picked out a costume for the party? I remember Chanyoung ordering a large delivery with a teddy bear and saying that he would beat you up."
"Yeah," Wonbin lazily yawns, "let him lick his wounds first."
Sohee ignores Wonbin's obvious sarcasm as he continues to list the possible events for the upcoming evening:
"The most important thing is, of course, the terrifying makeup. Last year we almost won, but Joker-Sungchan snatched both first place and Harley-Chanyoung with his natural shyness."
"Yes, Shotaro told how Chanyoung jumped on Sungchan and tore up his costume skirt, showing the entire Internet his pants with dinosaurs in the video."
Wonbin chuckled, remembering how once again he didn't get any reward for the image that he considered the best among all. But in the crowd of painted grimaces, the untouched purity of his porcelain skin became a boring routine. On Halloween night, people liked to watch the freaks, who traditionally ward off evil spirits. Wonbin thinks that most people don't even have to try to show their ugliness.
"Well," Sohee thinks, assessing the possibilities of his brilliant ideas, "this year we'll have a clear advantage, because Sungchan will never go to the party without Chanyoung."
Sohee continues to make plans for the evening, but Wonbin doesn't listen, turning back to the mirror, where the glow of the lit candles makes shadows appear, slowly creeping towards the ominous pumpkins.
***
The absence of Sungchan with the car is very upsetting for Sohee, because he and Seunghan are used to arriving comfortably at any party, and while the owner doesn't know, they shamelessly kiss in the backseat. This time, Shotaro, who had recently received his licence, volunteered as the driver, and Seunghan had to be the "co-pilot" to get their small group to the club safely. Wonbin refused to go together, saying that he wanted to walk in silence. Sohee just shook his head after sending a selfie of himself to Chanyuong for approval, and he disappeared behind the door of their shared apartment.
The silence around Wonbin became louder. The shadows from the candles inside the pumpkins placed around the perimeter of the room followed him incessantly, crawled along the walls, and merged into one large crack in the mirror. Wonbin runs his finger along it, feeling like the same cut appears on his face with every movement on the broken glass. He abruptly removes his hand, but the shadow, for a moment, freezes in space. Wonbin realizes that he is slowly going crazy. Before leaving, he takes out that same knife, hiding it in the inside pocket of his jacket, and once again looks at his flawless reflection. The crack is getting deeper.
***
The distance from campus to the club is not that long if you walk at a measured pace, enjoying the festive atmosphere. All sorts of garlands with cobwebs, miniature pumpkins, and scarecrows standing on every corner create that very spirit of mysticism, as if at any moment a portal will open in a parallel universe and lost souls will set foot on the earth until dawn. There is nothing left for Wonbin to do—he sees Shotaro’s parked car near the entrance and a crowd of girls dressed up as sirens when he hears leisurely steps behind him. Wonbin freezes, and the footsteps fade away too. He doesn’t dare look back, remembering that he has a knife in his jacket pocket and "a completely messed up aim," as Sungchan says. Wonbin's shadow merges with someone else's in the dim light of the street lamp. Wonbin quickens his pace and slams the door.
Seunghan almost squeals with delight when he sees Wonbin’s image—his dream has come true. The vampire look isn't a particularly surprising prototype, especially for the ever-popular Twilight Saga hero, but Wonbin didn't even have to apply a drop of makeup. Sohee grumbles with displeasure, declaring that the winnings will still be given to Chanyoung with his pre-recorded video in a plush suit, because Chanyoung is so damn cute, even in the ridiculous makeup, and will be remembered for last year's performance for a long time. Seunghan has his own opinion about the best look, and it will always be any choice of Sohee, which he confidently declares, pinning his Gomez Addams at the nearest bar with pumpkin mulled wine. Seunghan himself volunteered to try on the role of Morticia, agreeing to wear a wig and a dress. Shotaro laughed at this couple for a long time but secretly brought a small set of his girlfriend Giselle’s makeup to the party to help Seunghan shine as the "prom queen". But even grotesque makeup and a radiant smile couldn't compare with the natural aristocratic coldness of Wonbin’s image. In the spotlight, his face looked like a mask stretched to perfect angles.
Wonbin indifferently twirled the glass of soda in his hand, watching the bubbles burst in contact with the ice. Several girls dressed as Salem witches surrounded him outside the bar, but Wonbin wasn't interested in their company. Turning around to look for a way out, he spotted Sungchan's ex-girlfriend in the crowd of sirens, whom he traded for Chanyoung last year on Halloween. Wonbin remembers that her name is Minjeong, and at the Christmas ball she asked him to dance, with a further attempt to drag him under the mistletoe for kisses, but Wonbin indifferently refused her everything. At that moment, it seemed to him that the girl was ready to scratch his perfect face, just so that no one would get such a boy. Now Wonbin wanted the sharp claws to tear him apart, not only from the inside.
Leaving his friends and disappointed witches at the bar, Wonbin moved through the crowd towards the bathroom and suddenly felt a gaze on him. Deciding that this was another attention-seeker following him, Wonbin quickly disappeared around the corner, passing a couple of werewolves kissing in the hallway. He was sick of strangers, sick of friends, and sick of himself. Wonbin wanted to get rid of the oppressive feeling inside, and he saw only one way to solve the eternal problem.
The knife blade glinted faintly through the smoke in the bathroom. Wonbin rolls the handle between his fingers as he stands in front of the mirror above the sink. A faucet flows nearby, and drops of water loudly tap on the earthenware. Wonbin counts "one, two, three" and looks in the mirror. He was sure that he was there alone, but in the reflection, there was someone's shadow watching him. Gripping the handle of the knife tightly, Wonbin pointed the blade towards the mirror, as if intending to pierce it.
"If you were going to call on Bloody Mary, then I hasten to upset you—today she has enough orders and she likes girls more."
The shadow spoke in a pleasant voice, mocking the stunned Wonbin.
"Does that mean you like boys more since you came here?"
The footsteps coming from the corner seemed familiar to Wonbin—could this be the same stalker?
"Well, you like them too, don't you?"
Wonbin raised his eyebrow in surprise as he looked at the image of the Jack-o-lantern that appeared from the shadows. Obviously, this stalker is one of the friends of the girls offended by Wonbin who are making up dirty rumours about him. He doesn't answer, thinking that ignoring, as always, is the best way out of any situation. Wonbin removes the knife from the mirror, bringing the blade closer to his face. It seems as if some force is clouding his mind, forcing him to do something he would never have thought of. The shine of the steel is as cold as Wonbin’s skin reflected in it. He brings the blade to his lips, feeling the prickly ice.
"You are beautiful."
Apparently, this would-be cosplayer has collected all the hackneyed cliches that Wonbin hates.
"Don't think that you're the first to talk about it."
"I think that I'll be the last person to tell you this if you decide to do what you came here for."
Wonbin turns around, still holding the knife to his face, and looks at the guy who has taken off the Jack-o-Lantern mask. Realizing with horror who was in front of him, Wonbin remembered the legend about a boy who was shunned by everyone as a child because he was insanely handsome, but one day his face was cut by envious children on the night before Halloween, and the boy stopped being beautiful. The boy's name was Eunseok and his fate was unknown after his mysterious disappearance. But now, looking at the healed scars on his lips and cheekbones, Wonbin recognized him as the same boy from the photos, which looked more like a doll.
"I remember a story about you—you’re Eunseok, right? The most beautiful boy, who became a freak in the blink of a nightmarish night."
Eunseok pursed his lips, realizing that he had been recognized. He watched Wonbin for a long time, knowing that he was now a porcelain dummy. Eunseok wondered how he lived all this time, looking at others with arrogance. And now he understood that the price of beauty is worthless if inside there is the same emptiness as a doll. Wonbin looks at Eunseok up close, holding the blade between them. With his other hand, he reaches out to the scarred face, wanting to touch the roughness of the greatest human sacrifice. And Eunseok allows it, closing his eyes for a moment, but then he grabs Wonbin’s fingers, squeezing them tightly.
"Don’t be silly; you don’t want the same cuts for yourself. Porcelain must remain intact; this is how it is most valued. No one will play with an ugly doll, Wonbin."
Suddenly, Wonbin bursts out laughing, dropping the knife to the floor and freeing himself from Eunseok's grip to touch his face with both hands.
"Who said that I wanted to be played with? Do you really think that I want to continue living this kind of life?"
Eunseok covers Wonbin's hands with his own and pulls him closer. He looks carefully into the black eyes with a furious gleam, and then leans towards the swollen lips, which are covered with drops of blood from the contact with the blade. Wonbin doesn’t have time to realize when Eunseok kisses him, biting his lip painfully.
"Well, at least you fit the image of a blood lover. Still, Wonbin, make the right choice."
Another kiss, deeper, with Wonbin's answering desperation, who wanted to saturate the emptiness inside himself with someone else’s ardor. Eunseok kissed him like they shared years of passionate love mixed with hatred. Breaking away from each other, Wonbin took a deep breath, but when he opened his eyes, he found that Eunseok had disappeared.
"What the hell?"
He was still in the club's bathroom, leaning against the sink, with a knife lying at his feet. All of this was real; Wonbin could swear that the conversation with the shadow and Eunseok himself were real. A clot of resentment settled in a lump in Wonbin’s throat, and for a moment he decided that he had simply gone crazy, apparently imagining what was happening in the mystical haze of the cursed night. Wonbin turned to the mirror, slamming his fist on it in frustration, and looked at the broken reflection. Cracks on the porcelain face, blood on the fingers. The doll from nightmares has come to life.
***
Wonbin doesn’t remember leaving the club, forgetting about his friends. He wanders past the parking lot, taking the cigarettes he stole from Seunghan out of his jacket pocket, and realizes that he's forgotten the knife. Cursing, Wonbin remembered that he'd left his lighter at the club. Shaking his head in disappointment, he looked around, trying to remember which way to go. But then his attention is attracted by a tall shadow leaning on a motorcycle.
Eunseok smokes, glaring at Wonbin, and jingles his keys.
"I thought you drowned yourself there." Eunseok tramples the cigarette butt with his shoe and buttons up his leather jacket—a completely different image from the one he appeared in front of Wonbin at the club. It seems like Wonbin is really going crazy.
"Vampires don't drown."
Wonbin rolls his eyes, tucking his bloody fist into his pocket. Eunseok steps closer to him and stares straight at him—in the light of the street lamps, he looks like he's catching Wonbin's breath. It takes a second to open his lips for a breath, and Eunseok takes the opportunity to cover his lips with his own. Pulling back, he carefully adjusts the collar of Wonbin’s jacket.
"Should I give you a ride?"
The porcelain shell is cracking at the seams, the soap bubble of emptiness inside bursts, and Wonbin quickly takes a step towards being stuck between worlds.