The Girl in the Mask || A Jungkook Fan Fiction

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1: The Beginning

In the confined space of an elite and popular night club surrounded with blinding and blaring lights and mixed smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke, perfume, sweat and sex lingering in the air that is crowded with different types of people wandering around, there is one particular lady who stood out the most.

Byul, as what she's commonly known for, took a deep breath as she stood and waited for the stage lift platform to climb up – to carry her all the way to the center stage where she belongs. At least, that's what she thought.

Maschera Reale's main hall is usually filled with a very large crowd, but the amount of people that are present tonight made the dancer's legs tremble. It's not the usual weak trembling that she felt every weekend where a relatively bigger crowd is present compared to any other day or during special occasions, because her knees and legs are immensely shaking and cold sweat are starting to form on the back of her neck and a thin sheen on her palm. Tonight is not just like any other night because the most popular nightclub in Itaewon is celebrating its 15th anniversary. Of course, the nightclub's patrons and usual goers are usually from the elite class – ranging from high-ranking politicians and officials, rich businessmen, members of influential families, and famous personalities from sports and entertainment field – but on a special night like this is the nightclub a bit more open to the public who can afford their special discounted entrance fee, but most especially the drinks.

The lights dimmed, along with the silencing of the surroundings, as her stage was slowly being lifted upwards, the beating of her heart extremely increasing in a faster speed. Her skin crawled, goose bumps forming as she felt the cold atmosphere penetrating her skin due to the lack of clothing she wears – only a golden spaghetti-strapped brassiere top with short laces below the breast, drowned with gold glitters, paired with a golden fitted, flexible shorts, almost the size of an underwear, with short gold veil hanging around her waist. This is the first time she's wearing a two-piece outfit for her performance, since she usually wears and prefers wearing body suits to cover her skin. The most revealing one she wore was a one-piece outfit that she wore only once when they had a V.V.I.P client, a bachelor party of a famous millionaire businessman, with only the skin of her legs showing.

A golden crown is sitting perfectly on top of her brown, long and curvy hair that suits to her concept for tonight's performance – royalty. There are also gold glitters evenly sprinkled on her bare skin, making her appear shining just like a glowing star.

Because here in this nightclub, that's what she is – a star.

As soon as the stage was set and stable, the spotlight lit up the stage, the lady in gold outfit appearing for the audience to see.

The loud curse escaping from Byul's red and sexy lips was drowned by the loud beat of the music, very far from her choice of genre but had gotten familiar to it from the numerous times of hearing it, and the ear-dropping cheers, shouts and whistling of the crowd as she emerged from the center of the stage. For a brief moment, she felt numb from her surroundings from the immense attention shooting towards her but after grasping the familiar adrenaline rush she felt every single time she steps foot on the circular elevated stage, her breathing evened and the loud beating of her heart calmed down.

The familiar sensual rhythm started to play and that's her cue. Slowly and sensually, she circled her way around the stainless pole in the middlemost part of the stage, extending up towards the ceiling where it was securely attached into. Her bare toes were purposely dragged across the smooth surface of the stage that made her appear sexier and seductive. Carefully, she pulled the crown from her head and placed it down on the stage in front of her, while maintaining the eye contact with the audience.

It's what you do

It's what you seeI know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me

Her naturally long and curled eyelashes felt heavy while fluttering behind the golden laced mask in her eyes, a golden veil attached below it to cover the remaining lower part of her face. It was, perhaps, the only difference she had from the other performers in the nightclub, and the reason behind her fame in the job she's in. She always wear a mask and hide her face from the world she grew up in. Despite being almost naked in front of the thousands of pairs of hungry eyes eating her, the mask made her feel hidden, safe and protected.

That led her to becoming the mysterious yet famous pole dancer of Meschara Reale – Byul, the girl in the mask.

It's where we go

It's where we'll beI know if I'm on to you, I'm on to youOn to you, you must be on to me

She perfectly and gracefully maneuvered every step and every routine she practiced in order to appease the crowd and give them the performance they had all been waiting for, all the while avoiding any kind of distraction to prevent any kind of accident, either small or major, that could hurt her. Although she was trained for this and her body is sturdy enough to withstand any kind of exhibition using the pole, she knows how accidents can happen from time to time.

And for a split second, her glistening eyes turned darker behind the contact lens. Her pouted lips slowly formed a sweet yet enticing smile that she perfected over the four years of performing, swooning the hearts of everyone present regardless of their age and sexuality.

My haunted lungs

Ghost in the sheetsI know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me

That's the power she holds – the kind of power that made her feel as if she's above everyone else as she looks down on people from her position, the kind of power that made her an illusion that those people are more than willing to bow down to her and kiss her feet and the ground she walks on the moment she ask them to, the kind of power that made her forget her identity, her status, her background, her past, her present life and the future she's afraid of.

My wicked tongue

Where will it be?I know if I'm onto you, I'm on to youOn to you, I'm on to youOn to you, you must be on to me

Because as her performance ends, she'll step down from that stage and will face the reality that she's nothing more than a woman who's paid for her company and time and merely for entertainment purposes. 

Click the external link for the twitter au version. Enjoy!🤗 

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