You have been invited to the trendiest party in the country. You're not sure why. You’re no jetsetter. In fact, you have nothing to do with that world at all. You were dining with friends in a charming little restaurant when Titus, a man in a fancy costume, appeared out of nowhere and handed you a pass. He was a bit creepy, wearing sunglasses at night and he looked very pale. But hey, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mingle with the rich and powerful. Besides, you’re meeting him in broad daylight. Everything should be fine.

When you arrive at the party, you immediately feel out of place. You had no idea it was a masquerade. The guests are dressed in elaborate Renaissance costumes, adorned with towering wigs and ornate Venetian masks. Many have bloodshot eyes. You are not surprised. These people probably barely sleep, and who knows what they take to keep themselves going? Their skin is startlingly pale, it seems to be the lasttrend.

At the grand entrance, one of the elegantly dressed guests pauses before crossing the threshold, sighs dramatically before speaking.

"You have to invite me in."

The bouncer rolls their eyes.

"It’s just a dinner party. Come inside."

The elite seem to have their own weird traditions. Inside, the atmosphere is surreal and opulent. As you move, the guests watch you with a disturbing glint in their eyes. Lust? Hunger? It's hard to tell. But you don't dwell on it. It wouldn't be the first time that you attract unwanted attention.

You spot others who, like you, seem confused and underdressed. You assume they must also be last-minute guests. You scan the room, but the man who invited you is nowhere to be found. Then again, with all the masks, it’s not like you’d recognize him anyway.

You wander over to the buffet, where the food looks exquisite. Every dish has been prepared with meticulous care. The canapés are miniature masterpieces, almost too beautiful to eat. There’s even caviar! Wow. You had never tried it before. But as you inspect the selection, you notice something odd. A faint tangy, metallic scent. The longer you linger, the more overwhelming it becomes. You decide to get a drink instead.

The bartenders stand ready, eager to take orders. You’re about to request your favorite cocktail when you notice that all the dressed-up guests are sipping Bloody Marys. It must be the establishment’s signature drink. So you follow suit.

As soon as you take your first sip, you spit it out. Gracefully, of course. This is a fancy party, after all. Yuck. Is that blood? Did they really bleed out poor animals just for the occasion? You’re horrified. But you tell yourself that you cannot judge these people. You are not insanely rich. They must have their reasons. It must be some kind of new thing that jetsetters do to prove to each other that they belong to the same elitist circle. And now you are one of them! At least, you will soon be! Time to make connections!

You discreetly approach a group gathered around a tall young man. Even with the mask, you can tell he’s extremely handsome, almost magnetic. The other guests refer to him as the Duke. It fits perfectly with the masquerade’s theme. He smiles as he turns to another guest offering him a drink.

"No, thanks. I quit drinking. No 'aged O-negative'. I turned hemogreen. I assure you, this organic kombucha is a killer. And it claims less victims than you, Vlad. Fermented tea is far more sophisticated and far more... 'humane'."

The group erupts in laughter. You don’t understand everything. He speaks of hypnotizing a butcher into selling tofu and undergoing Desensitization Therapy to slowly introduce himself to garlic knots. Their conversation is filled with odd terms, almost like a secret language. They clearly know each other well, cracking inside jokes.

Then, his gaze locks onto yours. You remain frozen, entranced. Who knows how long you stand there, unable to move?

Suddenly, a hand falls on your shoulder.

"There you are."

You turn around, startled.

Oh no. Titus, the creepy guy from the restaurant!