You fidget with the ornate tablecloth in your hands as the masked people wander by. The smell of smoke and expensive perfume hangs heavy in air littered by the sounds of laughter and secrets carelessly spilled to whomever might listen. You regret coming, yet you can't bring yourself to go home. You regret coming, but you were drawn by a desire you can't quite make sense of. You regret coming, until a tall man in a glistening mask notices you from across the ballroom.