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"The human world is harsh, darling. I need your soul to keep this devil running."

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Jungkook's POV's

I walked through the festival, surrounded by loud music and lively dancing, but I didn’t feel much excitement. Colorful tribal masks and people moving to the beat filled the scene, but I was focused on one thing: finding the right person.

As I moved past the drummers and those tending to the fire, I glanced around the crowd. I noticed a group of girls in traditional outfits, laughing and dancing, completely caught up in the fun. But none of them were what I was looking for.

I kept walking, my mind clear and aware. Suddenly, someone bumped into me.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. Just another girl lost in the crowd. But then she looked up at me.

She wasn’t like the others. No mask or tribal attire—just a simple modern outfit. Her hair was messy from the wind, and she looked tired but strong at the same time. She stood out, not like the others, but in a way that made me stop.

For a brief moment, our eyes met, and I felt something inside, but quickly pushed it away.

She blinked, surprised by our collision but quickly regained her composure. “Sorry,” she said, her voice soft but with a hint of edge. She seemed nervous, but there was an undeniable strength about her.

“It’s okay,” I replied, giving her a half-smile. I felt a strange connection, even though I couldn't explain it. She didn’t fit in here, but neither did I.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to keep walking or stay. I didn’t say anything, but I noticed her looking around, taking in the masked faces, the dancers, the frenzy happening all around her.

“You’re not one of them,” she said quietly, her curiosity evident.

I raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

She shrugged, her eyes moving over my clothes and the way I stood. “You’re different.”

I had to agree. I didn’t belong here among the tribal masks, the celebrating crowds, and the loud laughter.

I gave her a small, dismissive smile. “You’re different too,” I pointed out, gesturing to the dancing crowd.

She chuckled softly, but her laughter felt a bit sad. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’m trying to fit in, trying to forget,” she said, as if it was just a passing thought. I could sense the pain behind her words.

Before I could ask her anything more, she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the dance area. “Come on! Let’s dance. It’s been too long since I’ve had fun.”

I let her pull me along, intrigued, though dancing wasn’t my priority. What I was drawn to was her—this girl who didn’t fit in and was eager to lose herself among strangers.

We found a quieter spot at the edge, close enough to hear the music but away from the crowd. We didn’t talk much at first, just danced—her movements a bit awkward, mine more controlled—but it felt good. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, drawing me in.

“So, tell me about you,” she finally asked, breathing heavier as she slowed down, looking up at me with a mix of caution and curiosity.

I was quiet for a moment, not feeling the need to say much. But she had more questions.

“I’m Sarah,” she introduced herself, her eyes shining as if she wanted to see how I would react. “I’m not what people expect.”

My interest piqued. “Expect what?”

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