❝This is illegal. You should know that. You're the detective. I'm just a student.❞
Park Jimin is the head detective in the missing case of Nancy Dubois. However, he finds himself distracted by the haunting face of Rose Mann.
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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
The line between class and neglecting reality had completely lost its definition.
Ballroom carved of shimmering pearl and gold leaf as the crystalline chandelier substituted the long departed Sun. Raining down soft golden light amongst the constantly mingling and migrating crowds that lay underneath.
Their silk masks and velvet veils only applying another layer of skin that hid what lay underneath.
And Jimin had somehow caught himself in the middle of it.
The chapter of mourning the DuBois couple had reached now was acceptance, or just a synthetic specimen of it.
Corruption masked by the title of charity, hung from the tussore banners. Claiming themselves to be gathered that evening for the means of funding an abused children's aid.
But no event like this finds itself stainless and unflawed.
Personal intrigue and external affairs seeming to crawl past the filter of invitation as circles formed. Forced laughter and plotting drowning the atmosphere of the grand hall.
"Why did you convince me to even come here?" Jimin expired, the filled champagne flute caught in his haloed fingers. "Because they wanted to thank us for solving their daughter's murder case. Just be polite... and try not to get drun—let me correct myself. Don't get anymore drunk than you already are." The older ebon haired man scoffed, injecting his own digits into the entanglement of Jimin's fingers, stealing the transparent glass.
Ignoring the bullet of electricity that shot to his heart when their fingers made contact.
"I'm not drunk." Protested Jimin. The small fragile smirk on his face accompanied by his eyes collapsing slightly claiming otherwise.
"Sure. Just don't say anything stupid." Yoongi spoke.
"Detective Min! Detective Park!" A familiar foreign voice called out amongst the background of whining violins and colonies of piano keys.
Tracking down the location of the origin, he found the masked duet of Francis and Delmare DuBois.
A marionette inspired mask draping her eyes to almost make them invisible to the outside world. Heliotrope silk and raven velvet, making its body and soul, corresponding to the ball gown she supported. Francis, arms tied with his wife, stood with a fractured mask. A fraction of his portrait left nude whereas the other was cloaked in a frozen white mask, coal roots invading the blank canvas.
