"Would you dance with me?" asked a charismatic young man, extending his hopeful hand toward a girl sitting pensively in the corner of the room, nervously swirling her glass as if trying to dispel her uncertainty. This masquerade ball, where everyone wore masks and concealed their identities, intended to allow guests to feel freer in their interactions despite mingling with those who held high social status. This atmosphere, brimming with possibilities, strengthened social bonds among attendees and made each moment feel profoundly significant.
"I'm afraid I'll disappoint you," the girl replied, reaching for another glass of red wine. She took a sip and gazed at the young man, hoping he would stay away. Even though their faces were hidden behind masks, which added to the evening's mystery, a barrier of uncertainty separated them.
The young man smiled gently at her, smoothly taking the glass from her hand and placing it on the table in an uncomfortable silence.
"That's quite a reaction. You shouldn't be drunk on such a beautiful day, especially if you're only pretending," the young man said, extending his hand once more with enthusiasm. The girl ignored him, prompting him to continue, "Isn't it embarrassing for a young man to have to ask the same woman twice?" His voice rose slightly, revealing his frustration, as if he hoped she could sense the genuine concern beneath his words.
"I think I want to stop drinking this rosella tea," the girl replied, accepting his invitation to dance—a bold move that created an unexpected and tense moment for both of them.
The young man led the girl to the center of the stage, where everyone stepped back to focus on the exhilarating main event. One of the party guards released thousands of fireflies, which began to swirl around them like stars in the night sky, creating a magical atmosphere that enhanced their moment. It was as though time had stopped, allowing them to savor the beauty and warmth together, crafting a memory that would endure in their minds long after the night was over.
The other guests whispered to one another, as if they were aware of the connection between the two.
"Even fireflies sacrifice themselves to amaze others. Aren't you happy?" asked the young man.
"Happy, you say... right now, what crosses my mind is how you can waste the short life of a firefly for fleeting pleasures that lack meaning," the girl replied skeptically, expressing her dissatisfaction with the selfishness of humanity, which often overlooks the suffering of other creatures.
"That's a choice."
"Huh... they don't choose; they are forced," the girl countered.
"Alright... it must be a bit frustrating to hear, but can I ask you one thing? What's the difference between hate and vengeance?"
Suddenly, the fireflies scattered across the floor. Their beautiful glow vanished, while everyone else there joked and laughed with their partners. But not for this couple; they seemed to be swallowed by darkness, alienated from the joy surrounding them. The other guests no longer noticed them, creating an increasingly ominous and tense atmosphere.
"This is the answer," the girl said firmly, her voice trembling. "Your magic show is indeed captivating, but look, everyone seems happy. Yet, even amid the swirling excitement, they forget that they walk on blood-soaked ground—a consequence of pleasures that may hold no meaning—oblivious to the struggles of beings suffering day by day." She continued with explosive emotion, expressing her deep concern for the unseen suffering behind the facade of joy, her eyes shining as she struggled to contain her powerful feelings.
"That's why it's called magic."
"I'm fed up," the girl said as she walked away from the young man.
"See you," the young man replied.
"Bye... hero, or you could say 'the glory hero'," she retorted, her eyes sparkling with mockery. "Can I call you a wolf in sheep's clothing?" she added with a teasing tone, directing her gaze at the young man, implying her sharp criticism. He could only smile, trying to empty his mind of the hurtful comment that was supposed to awaken his awareness, though his heart quivered at her doubting tone.
"Hehehe, do I look like that in front of you?" the young man said, attempting to sound relaxed even though deep inside, he felt challenged by her statement.
"Should I be honest?" the girl replied.
"Don't! Sometimes lying is far better than honesty," said the young man.
"Moreover, lies create distance between you and others, deepening the gap that exists between us," the girl added before leaving the party room filled with laughter and warmth, seeking peace outside the suffocating noise. Memories of sincerity in relationships flashed in her mind, lost along with the lies that had gradually crept in.
"Hehehehe, even if our faces are concealed by masks, you can't hide your true feelings," the young man thought to himself.
He paused for a moment, then walked slowly towards the crowd, smiling at everyone who greeted him. He didn't forget to take a glass of red wine as his conversation partner, a habit that served to ward off solitude. Eventually, he found shelter in a corner and set the mask on the table. He gazed at the cup filled with crimson liquid, undoubtedly intoxicating, giving it a slight swirl to enhance the flavor on his tongue before taking a sip, savoring every sensation it offered.
"It's easier to hate someone and hold a grudge, but making someone happy is far more difficult, even in simple ways," the young man said softly, gazing at the girl through the glass of his cup. It was as if he longed to reclaim fleeting moments of happiness and reminisce about the beautiful times they once shared, where the warmth of love soothed their wounded souls and rekindled hope for a better future.
Amidst the laughter of the crowd, two souls became separated by misunderstanding and profound emotional pain. The masquerade ball, intended as a joyful occasion, transformed into a stage for their unspoken inner conflicts, where cheers and laughter seemed to blur the sorrow that enveloped their hearts. In the shadows surrounding them, they found themselves entangled in a complex game far beyond mere dancing and laughter, reflecting their yearning for mutual understanding—even as the walls between them thickened, reminding them that worry and hope often walk hand in hand in human relationships, weaving a complicated emotional tapestry that they both struggled to navigate.
"Fitran," the girl whispered sorrowfully in her heart.
Tears flowed down her cheeks as she reminisced about every memory with Fitran, now engulfed in sorrow. Her heart whispered, "Why is all of this happening? Fitran, I miss you every second." Each heartbeat felt heavy with the weight of loss, reflecting the depth of their love: "Fitran, you are the light of my life." Her soul screamed in silence, "Fitran, I wish we could be together again." In the darkness of night, calling his name pierced the stillness like a mantra, striving to reach what had been lost, hoping that someday this love could intertwine again with a beauty that never fades, illustrating the timeless nature of their bond.
"Fitran, can you feel me here?" the girl whispered in her heart.
"Of course, Rinoa," Fitran replied from afar, as if he knew she was saying his name. A question flickered in the young man's heart: was this fate bringing them back together in such an emotional moment, as if he felt it too even though distance separated them?