?????? | ????????

୨⎯ jia ⎯୧

i return to my room, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click.

the moment i know i'm alone, i reach up and pull off my tiger mask, setting it down on the dresser.

then, finally, i let out a shaky scoff.

tonight was... a lot.

i exhale, running a hand through my hair as i try to process everything. the games, the vips, the way they laughed while people died. the front man, his unreadable stare, the way his presence alone shifted the entire room.

i knew what i was walking into, but knowing and experiencing are two different things.

i take a deep breath before dialing my father's number. the line barely rings twice before he picks up.

"jia," he greets, his voice steady as always. "how did it go?"

i let out a sharp exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose. "how do you think it went? i just watched people get shot like it was some sick reality show."

he doesn't react. doesn't even sound surprised.

"you knew what you were walking into." he said, with a low voice.

"what i didn't know," i snap, pacing the room, "is why the hell you participate in these disgusting games."

he sighs, like he's already tired of the conversation. "you think i enjoy them like the other vips?" he says. "i don't. but this isn't just about the games. it's about business. connections."

i clench my jaw. of course. my father doesn't do anything without a smart reason behind it.

"these men hold power beyond what you can imagine," he continues. "deals are made in that room that no government could interfere with. if i refused to attend, i'd lose opportunities, allies. we can't afford that."

i sit down on the edge of the bed, shaking my head. "it's insane."

"it's reality," he corrects. "and you need to accept it."

i press my lips together, swallowing my frustration.

"did you speak with them?" he asks after a moment.

"yeah," i say, rubbing my temple. "i made a few comments, played along."

"good," he says approvingly. "that's exactly what you need to do. don't stand out too much, but don't be silent either. blend in."

i hate this, i think but don't say. instead, i shift the conversation.

"what do you know about the front man?"

there's a pause on the other end. then, my father speaks, his tone lower now.

"not much," he admits. "but i know he's dangerous. more than you realize."

i frown. "dangerous how?"

"no one knows where he came from, how he got his position, or who he really answers to. all we know is that he's efficient, ruthless, and completely untouchable."

i remember the way he looked at me tonight, the way his presence alone silenced the room.

"should i be careful around him?" i ask.

my father exhales. "extra careful. be polite. be respectful. do not challenge him. we won't get another invitation next year if you piss him off."

i scoff. "so, what? i have to kiss his ass?"

"if that's what it takes."

i grit my teeth.

"understood," i say stiffly.