Work Text:
You’ve been woken by your morning alarm at 5 am, jolting your body awake when the sun hasn't even dawned upon the surface of your neighborhood. Your body yearns for sleep but your mind knows better than to snooze back into your bed, forcing your arms to carry you up. Why should you? You need more rest anyway. Then you recall as you stare across the room, looking at your fancy looking uniform.
Right. You have been working in a store selling full face masks of all kinds. The creative aesthetic kind. You've been working there for years, having got up the job ranking until you got to your current role. Manager. Sales manager. Your pay is hefty by this point so you ended up with excess money. Not Scourge McDuck level but still plenty. So, how do you deal with that?
Parties. Tons of them. Hosting, attending, or crashing them. It gives you a reason to spend money on gorgeous outfits and decorated costumes that are certified to make you look like an 1800's aristocrat or a party animal trapped in the 2000's. All to fill that deep void within you. God, you really need to get your life together.
Things just don't feel as exciting as it used to be for you. You wished you could go back in time to tell your kid self to embrace their childhood as much as they could because being an adult? Ugh. So stressful. So bland. So… empty.
As you got up to grab your usual cup of white coffee of the day, your finger slumping over the handle of your precious pastel turquoise mug when you felt a faint rumble from your pocket. Your free hand slides down, latching onto your sleek new Valdivian phone, its bright screen highlighting a new message. It's from your enthusiastically energetic coworker, Zoey.
*”Heya girlie! U coming 2 the mask party l8r?”*
Great, another one of these goddamn events. At least it is an interesting one. A masquerade ball, huh? You didn't know those still existed. You figured the primal urge to dance with a mystery partner in a big fancy garment has never gone away. You sluggishly type back an answer as you finish chugging the cup of caffeine down the hatch.
*“sure, notjing better tou dou anvywayt”*
Your fingers made numerous typos in your reply from just how sleepy your brain is. It's fine, Zoey seems to understand it anyway.
*”Alr!!! C ya l8r, toots!”*
Welp, here it goes. Time to start your day.
As you make your way to the large shop in the end of town with the help of the pretty Grab driver in front of you, you get out of the car as you slip out some change. By this point, you knew this lady as a close friend with the amount of small talk you two exchange regularly on your trips to your workplace. You slipped it onto her hands, waving to her. “See ya, Sophia.”
“See you then, my money maker.”
You chuckle as she drives away with that dazzling smirk like always, leaving only yourself and the store right before you. This is it. Your eyes gaze up at the giant sign. “True Face”. A sigh slides out of your throat, time to do the wage cage.
The sound of your heels echo on the smooth tiles, having just been cleaned up by the janitors a moment ago. Your shoes do stop by the entrance to be checked by the security guard. You blink for a moment upon gazing at this person, sighing.
You didn't see the guard you once grew accustomed to. Shame, you always liked Dorian. This new guy, however, has been around for a few months now. Even then, you still haven't gotten used to seeing this meek man making sure you're safe to enter.
He checks you with one of those long scanners before he checks your bag rather slowly, nodding. “T-there we go, miss. Welcome to the… store.” The guy speaks in a shy tone, his black hat, swallowing his hair, shaking with each movement he does as you walk past him. Hmm, quite the energy for someone who has to check people all day. Poor guy.
As you work all day, keeping up that classy, professional, and smiling persona you've had for years in the industry, you don't fail to notice that guard occasionally looking back at you. Sometimes staring at you for too long and snapping back in this hilariously embarrassed way. A giggle here and there came out as you noticed these little details.
You were snapped back into reality when a customer loudly shouts at your direction about some wardrobe mishap. Your lips parted in a tired sigh. At least you had an event to look forward to.
Here you are. Standing before this large party venue in a gorgeous deep teal outfit with poofy sleeves and a matching white mask, both with golden black accents that made the whole ensemble so elegant and sophisticated. You felt like royalty. Not just in your costume. Dull but have to show face somehow.
“You okay, girlie?? Come on, we gotta go!!! This is only for tonight and I can't stand being here for way longer!!!” Zoey exclaims, her extravagant colorful gown bouncing with each word she speaks. Welp, here goes nothing. You take her arm, slightly nodding just to reassure her. “I’m fine. Let's go.”
The two of you barged into the main area, where you watched as people dressed up just like you went out and about talking in the middle of the sparkling ballroom. It felt like you were pulled back to the 19th century. It was so beautiful, it distracted you from how much your cheeks hurt from forced smiles earlier.
The two of you mingle with the rest of the party goers, leaping place to place with this positively radiant energy that you always try to put up whenever in public. It gave you a sense of relief, knowing that no one is going to be fairly dissatisfied with your attitude. Though, it is draining. You turn back from the crowd to hopefully get a moment to yourself when-
You bump into someone. Great.
You step back and immediately apologize, refocusing your gaze to meet this person's face. That is when you were stunned.
This person, clearly a man, had such luscious dark brown curls on the top of his head, perfectly draping over his obscured face. His mask is a shadow, the main part painted in black with matching midnight jewels and dark lace covering the rest of what would be his nose and mouth. His suit is that of a beautiful teal, a color you always fancied. It is adorned with sequins of the night, catching the bouncing chandelier light and twinkling like the stars.
He's mysteriously beautiful.
He nods slowly, reaching his brown hand towards you. “My, I have to apologize on my behalf as well. You're looking rather lavishing tonight.” His voice is so… familiar. Yet its velvetly smooth tone says otherwise. You've only really heard about soothing yet flirty men in songs that make you puke. But this is real. And it's so heart racing. You grab his hand politely, your cheeks flushed with a gorgeous pink.
“And you.” He continues to compliment you. ”You're looking radiant like the stars up at the sky and your hands are just as delicate as the moonlight. Care to dance with me?”
You immediately agreed, folding to this man that swooned you over with just the sound of his voice. It swiftly flies your adoration directly to the wind, spreading around you as this person gently drags you to the middle of the vast ballroom. In that perfect moment, a slow song plays in the nearby speakers, giving the moment a romantically intimate vibe.
His hand slowly intertwines with your own, fingers locking in place. His other one wraps around your waist, landing right on your lower back. Oh, if only you can see the look on his face. You bet he would've been looking at you with so much love, so much adoration, so much… care. Respect. Things you really loved to have but… well. Not often you do feel so well cared for.
His leathered up feet start to move, swaying with the music like it was second nature. You, on the other hand, aren't that much of a skilled dancer. You could feel the patient smile on his lips, letting you catch on as if it was nothing.
“What do I call you?” You had to know. You wanted something to call this dazzling tower of a man. Each caress of each of his fingers tightly holding your palms as he formulates an answer got your cheeks to flood with a hot pink, slightly peeking behind the mask you bared on your face.
He pauses for a second, almost considering what he wants to reveal. “Valentino.” Valentino? How gorgeously fitting for a man that had captured the apple of your eye. The two of you danced for what felt like hours. Days. Weeks. Everyone else around you had practically faded from your perceptions, leaving you and this gentleman alone in the middle of this ballroom.
Valentino. Oh, Valentino.
You couldn't even process the ride home, all your brain was attached to Valentino. That name stuck in your head like a song on loop. That mask. Oh that dark mask. The only face you'll know him for. So sweet. And so kind. So graceful and refined.
You're pretty sure you found your soulmate.
Even Sophia noticed how swooned you were the next day. “So, what's with the look? Finally found someone who isn't as pathetic as dirt?”
You nod with no hesitation. “Yeah… at this party last night.”
“Party? Don't tell me you brought a man home?! What did I tell you??” “I didn't- I didn't bring him home, I'm not that stupid.” The driver had a sigh of relief. “Good, wouldn’t want to watch you become a naughty thing for someone who doesn't deserve it.”
You chuckle in agreement but still. You can't stop thinking about him. You were sure that you could trust him with the way his hand felt in your hands, the way he patiently danced with your two left feet, the way he sweetly whispered in your ears. Oh… to hold him again. To know even more who this man was.
Your imagination snapped out of its dreamland when Sophia slammed the brakes hard, quickly asking for your payment before shoving you out of the car. “Go on, you love sick puppy. Make the good bucks.”
Welp. There she goes.
You walk in to meet up with the meek security guard like usual, presenting your ID out just so you can just get in, you didn't want to spend more time in this place than you needed anyway. He hides behind his hat, both hair and face, and nods. “Have a nice day…” As you walked away, you noticed his name tag. “Hector” Hmm. A nice name, you suppose.
Little did you know who that guard was.