I pass by jazz music and countless masked figures. When I accidentally hit someone, I smile and let out my beautiful voice, then sit down on a chair, swirling my glass of red wine in one hand.
He's handsome. His eyes are handsome, even though they're hidden by the mask. And his thick lips. A familiar, yet awkward look. I pretend nothing's wrong, remaining modest amidst the glamour, hiding my ugliness as I savor the wine. The alcohol seems to ease my nerves. A little dazed, I pick up my glass again.
But, that handsome man. He, whose lips I long to taste, walks toward me, step by step. Now, even the air is holding its breath, hiding behind the world's glamour and masks, he stares intently.
Come towards me, step by step.
I hide my trembling hands from him as he reaches out, and I reach out my own, take his hand, and stand up with a smile. My mind is already picturing the end of this masquerade ball, dancing with him until the very end, and the climax of our kisses as we drink wine.
"Would you like to dance together?"
He also has a handsome voice. I raise the corners of my lips and give him a positive nod, then take his hand and lead him to the center of the stage. I let myself move, surrendering to the gentle yet noble jazz music.
I danced with him, sat down, and made small talk, telling him my age and keeping my name a secret. This man, so affectionate from beginning to end, continued to seduce me. If I didn't fall for him, I'd be a robot. By the time I came to, not a robot, his hand was already lifting my chin and locking eyes with mine. Their eyes were already desiring each other.
When their mouths overlapped, each person began to blur. He was lost in his ecstasy, struggling alone. After embracing him and enjoying himself for a while, when he opened his eyes,
It was an empty ballroom. I dropped the glass in shock. It made a loud noise—a crash. The shards of glass flew everywhere, even burying themselves in my foot. But it didn't hurt. When I closed my eyes again and opened them,
It was in my room where no one was there.
His masked figure before my eyes remained only as a faint afterimage.
Yes. It was all a dream. That precious dress, that glass of fine wine. And that familiar face with those sweet lips. From start to finish, it was all a dream, my fantasy and nightmare. The whole story was predetermined, and I drifted along according to it. Even now, I struggle miserably, unable to distinguish between dream and reality. It was a script, a lucky extra in that play.
A brief interpretation: These are a play about a grand masquerade ball unfolding only in the heroine's mind. The final gif shows Seokjin, unmasked, in the form she imagined. That's why Seokjin's masked appearance felt so familiar yet awkward.