Mo Sichen sat in the corner of the auditorium, observing the lively crowd. The masked and extravagantly dressed dancers twirled before him. Unadorned in makeup, he wore a simple white shirt and dark trousersthe attire of a student attending his final campus event.
The once solemn auditorium now buzzed with excitement. Streamers adorned the ceiling, transforming the space into a kaleidoscope of colors.
The campus band played exuberantly on a small stage, celebrating youth. This was the graduation party for the F University Class of 2010, a masquerade ball dreamed up by imaginative young minds.
Despite the air conditioning, Mo Sichen felt restless amidst the crowd's fervor. The spinning figures disoriented him. Just as he stood to leave, a flash of blue caught his eyea woman in a long aqua gown and a mask.
"May I have the honor of dancing with you, sir?" Her voice was gentle, her gaze fixed on his face. Her cool blue attire seemed to lower the room's temperature.
Her melodious voice intrigued him. What lay behind the mask? Mo Sichen politely extended his arm, embracing her. As they swayed to an unfamiliar waltz, he wondered about her identity.
This was an occasion Mo Sichen rarely attended. The music, a mid-tempo waltz, was entirely new to him. He glanced at the couples around them, momentarily losing his footing. Apologetically, he looked down at the woman before him.
She tilted her head back, her posture graceful. Against the rhythm he expected, she led the dance, her left hand guiding him through gentle pulls and pauses. Her right hand rested on his shoulder, and she spun beneath his arm, reclaiming their steps.
Mo Sichen chuckled softly and leaned in. "What's the name of this tune?"
Her eyes sparkled, fixed on his. Her voice barely audible: "Masquerade Ball."
Was it his imagination, or did her palm grow warmer? Was she perspiring?
Her eyes softened, like water in which he might drown. "I don't recognize you. What's your name?"
Before he could respond, she twirled away, leaving him momentarily bewildered. The music seemed to end too soon. As she retreated backstage, Mo Sichen's heart raced.
The host's voice interrupted: "Our special guest will now sing a song for this bittersweet, farewell night. Let's listen to the only song of the evening, dedicated to a soon-to-graduate gentleman."
The crowd fell silent.
From backstage, the woman emerged, her aqua gown trailing behind her. Mo Sichen's gaze followed her, and when she reached the center stage, she glanced boldly in his direction. The music began, and her voice filled the room.
"I wear a veil adorned with faux diamonds,
At this long-awaited masquerade ball.
I know this is my sole chance,
To face youfamiliar yet distant,
...and never reveal my beautiful deception.
Please don't ask me to unveil the mask,
For fear of regret in your eyes.
When the music ends, I'll leave you,
...forever."
Mo Sichen stood there, stunned. Her voice resonated with melancholy and grace. Each word felt like a tearful confession.
As the music faded, he remembered someone. His heart stirred, and he stepped forward, pushing through the crowd toward the stage.
In the center, the woman held the microphone to her lips. Her gaze remained fixed on him. When others turned to look, the music began.
"I wear a veil adorned with faux diamonds,
At this long-awaited masquerade ball.
I know this is my sole chance,
To face youfamiliar yet distant,
...and never reveal my beautiful deception.
Please don't ask me to unveil the mask,
For fear of regret in your eyes.
When the music ends, I'll leave you,
...forever."
The once solemn auditorium now buzzed with excitement. Streamers adorned the ceiling, transforming the space into a kaleidoscope of colors.
The campus band played exuberantly on a small stage, celebrating youth. This was the graduation party for the F University Class of 2010, a masquerade ball dreamed up by imaginative young minds.
Despite the air conditioning, Mo Sichen felt restless amidst the crowd's fervor. The spinning figures disoriented him. Just as he stood to leave, a flash of blue caught his eyea woman in a long aqua gown and a mask.
"May I have the honor of dancing with you, sir?" Her voice was gentle, her gaze fixed on his face. Her cool blue attire seemed to lower the room's temperature.
Her melodious voice intrigued him. What lay behind the mask? Mo Sichen politely extended his arm, embracing her. As they swayed to an unfamiliar waltz, he wondered about her identity.
This was an occasion Mo Sichen rarely attended. The music, a mid-tempo waltz, was entirely new to him. He glanced at the couples around them, momentarily losing his footing. Apologetically, he looked down at the woman before him.
She tilted her head back, her posture graceful. Against the rhythm he expected, she led the dance, her left hand guiding him through gentle pulls and pauses. Her right hand rested on his shoulder, and she spun beneath his arm, reclaiming their steps.
Mo Sichen chuckled softly and leaned in. "What's the name of this tune?"
Her eyes sparkled, fixed on his. Her voice barely audible: "Masquerade Ball."
Was it his imagination, or did her palm grow warmer? Was she perspiring?
Her eyes softened, like water in which he might drown. "I don't recognize you. What's your name?"
Before he could respond, she twirled away, leaving him momentarily bewildered. The music seemed to end too soon. As she retreated backstage, Mo Sichen's heart raced.
The host's voice interrupted: "Our special guest will now sing a song for this bittersweet, farewell night. Let's listen to the only song of the evening, dedicated to a soon-to-graduate gentleman."
The crowd fell silent.
From backstage, the woman emerged, her aqua gown trailing behind her. Mo Sichen's gaze followed her, and when she reached the center stage, she glanced boldly in his direction. The music began, and her voice filled the room.
"I wear a veil adorned with faux diamonds,
At this long-awaited masquerade ball.
I know this is my sole chance,
To face youfamiliar yet distant,
...and never reveal my beautiful deception.
Please don't ask me to unveil the mask,
For fear of regret in your eyes.
When the music ends, I'll leave you,
...forever."
Mo Sichen stood there, stunned. Her voice resonated with melancholy and grace. Each word felt like a tearful confession.
As the music faded, he remembered someone. His heart stirred, and he stepped forward, pushing through the crowd toward the stage.
In the center, the woman held the microphone to her lips. Her gaze remained fixed on him. When others turned to look, the music began.
"I wear a veil adorned with faux diamonds,
At this long-awaited masquerade ball.
I know this is my sole chance,
To face youfamiliar yet distant,
...and never reveal my beautiful deception.
Please don't ask me to unveil the mask,
For fear of regret in your eyes.
When the music ends, I'll leave you,
...forever."
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