The invitation had arrived in a black envelope sealed with gold wax with the title “The Grand Masquerade of Seoul”. A once a year gathering where the country’s elite hid behind silk masks and secrets.

The ballroom glittered under chandeliers, the air thick with perfume, champagne, and the hum of a hundred whispered intrigues. Every face was hidden, every identity a mystery, and that was the thrill.

You were making your way through the crowd when you collided with someone. His mask was carved in black and silver, concealing everything but the curve of his smile.

“Forgive me,” he said, voice deep and smooth, a little too magnetic to belong to an ordinary guest. Something about him felt almost too familiar.

What you didn’t know was that behind that mask was Shindong, the biggest k-idol in the country, slipping through the night unseen, until now.