— “September 14, 2026. Time: 04:30 AM. I don’t know if this is the biggest mistake of my life or my greatest opportunity... but I’m already here.”
The camera turns. Aziel appears on the screen. Under the dim lighting of the aircraft cabin, his turquoise eyes seem to possess a light of their own. Dark, thick locks of hair fall over his forehead, masking the sharp line of his brows. He smiles faintly, adjusting the camera, and the shot cuts off.
[The bustling noise of Seoul’s Incheon Airport, the sound of suitcase wheels, and announcements in Korean]
Aziel walked across the polished floors of the airport. Every movement—even his simple gait—betrayed a professional dancer: his back was straight, his steps light and rhythmic. Passersby involuntarily turned their gaze toward this foreigner, whose sharp, aristocratic features and dark skin stood out starkly from the crowd.
He stepped outside. The Korean morning was cold and damp.
An hour later, Aziel stood before a narrow door in one of Seoul’s quiet neighborhoods. The key turned in the lock, and he stepped inside.
The apartment was small but bright. A single room that would serve as a bedroom, a living room, and a studio for his vlogs. Aziel left his suitcase by the door, approached the window, and turned the camera back on.
— “This is my new home. It’s small, but everything starts here. Tomorrow is my first day at the restaurant. I’ve come this far from Egypt to show that belly dancing isn’t just an art—it’s my soul.”
He turned off the camera and sat tiredly on the bed, clutching the employment contract in his hand.
The evening at "The Velvet Lotus" restaurant began slowly.
In the center of the hall, a tall man moved between the tables with a firm yet effortless stride. Han Sojin, standing at 188 cm, was hard to miss. Even the waiter’s uniform couldn’t hide his broad shoulders and professionally toned physique; his chest muscles were defined beneath the white shirt. His face was the embodiment of classic East Asian beauty: narrow, mysterious eyes that usually seemed half-closed, giving him a calm, cunning, and confident gaze.
— “Thank you, your smile has made this evening even brighter,” Sojin said to a customer in a soft voice, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.
But as soon as he stepped away from the table and entered the back of the bar, the mask of that kind and "handsome" boy shattered instantly. His eyes turned cold. He scanned the women sitting in the hall the way an artist would choose paper for his next sketch.
“This one talks too much... and that other one... maybe she’s worth a try for a few nights,” he thought, carelessly running a hand through his dark hair. Sojin knew his worth. He knew that a simple invitation to his home under the pretext of "drawing" was enough—no one could resist his corrosive charm. To him, people were merely colors on a canvas, to be used and then forgotten.
The back area of "The Velvet Lotus" was filled with a light hum. The gentle clinking of silverware, the short, professional exchanges of the staff, and the faint scent of perfume mixed with alcohol created a unique tension found only in places where everything must be perfect.
— “Everyone, attention for a moment,” came the voice of the manager, Kang Sera.
Several staff members turned around.
He was standing by the door.
Aziel.
A long, black coat accentuated his tall frame, and his hair, falling freely past his shoulders, gave off a soft glow under the lights. His presence didn't scream for attention, yet eyes were drawn to him naturally.
— “This is Aziel,” the manager continued. “He is our new dancer. From now on, he will be performing as part of our evening program.”
Kang Sera, with her Korean features and straight black hair reaching her shoulders, resembled an ice statue. Her bangs emphasized the sternness of her gaze, and her neat appearance reflected an uncompromising character. Every movement was confident and calculated.
A few employees exchanged curious glances.
At that moment, Sojin, who was standing at the bar arranging glasses, looked up for a second.
His eyes slid over Aziel.
One second.
No more.
No interest.
No surprise.
No particular feeling at all.
Just an acknowledgment of fact.
“So, this is the new dancer,” thought Sojin.
He already knew a dancer was coming from abroad. And he knew it was a man.
It changed nothing for him.
His gaze returned to the glasses as quickly as it had been raised.
Aziel noticed this.
He noticed everything.
The way that man didn’t even try to look at him for long.
The way his movements were calm, confident, and without unnecessary show.
Without even realizing it, Aziel’s entire attention was irresistibly locked onto Han Sojin.
Broad shoulders.
A straight back.
Calm movements.
“Interesting...” thought Aziel.
No smile.
No outward interest.
Just observation.
— “Welcome,” said Manager Kang Sera. “You can get ready now. Your performance starts in one hour.”
As everyone returned to their tasks, Sojin picked up his jacket.
— “I’m leaving early today,” he said calmly to the manager.
— “Is everything alright?”
— “Yes. Just personal business.”
No further explanation.
He walked down the hallway without looking at anyone.
One hour later.
The lights in the hall dimmed softly.
The conversations slowed down.
The stage lighting flared up.
— “Dear guests,” the announcer’s voice rang out, “The Velvet Lotus is proud to present its new artist, who has traveled all the way from Egypt specifically for us.”
A brief pause.
— “Aziel.”
A curious whisper rippled through the hall.
And then—
He appeared.
Aziel stepped onto the stage half-naked, highlighting his bronze skin. With the very first notes of the music, Aziel’s body came to life. It was an oriental dance, full of passion and flawless control. His abdominal muscles moved in fluid waves, like a serpent living beneath his skin.
Silence fell over the room. People watched with bated breath.
— “He... he is unreal,” a woman whispered.
— “I’ve never seen anything like this,” another replied.
A man leaned forward in his chair.
— “This isn’t just a dance anymore.”
— “This is something else entirely.”
When the music ended, there was a moment of silence.
And then—
Applause.
Loud.
Genuine.
Lasting.
— “That... that was powerful,” the bartender said quietly, nodding with respect.
— “You changed the very air in this room,” added one of the waitresses, still impressed by his gaze.
In the dressing room, Aziel finally took off the heavy, jingling belt and the silk trousers. A few minutes later, a regular guy in simple jeans and a black sweater looked back at him from the mirror. The stage glow had vanished, giving way to a pleasant exhaustion.
At home, the silence was different—soothing. Washing his face and finally shedding the day's tension, he prepared a simple dinner for himself. As he ate alone, his mind was still back in the restaurant.
— "I wonder what happened that made that guy leave... what was his name? Sojin? Han Sojin?"
Aziel lightly bit his lip.
— “What did Koreans call an older male friend again?” he murmured to himself.
— “Ah, I remember.”
Aziel laughed softly.
— “But I’m definitely not going to say 'Hyung'...” he whispered.
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