Going back into the hall, I try to look for the man in a burgundy shirt, my very own Blank Patriarc. But he’s nowhere.

Has he retired to bed, or is he purposefully hiding from me?

When some of the people starts pointing at me and giggling, I knew it’s time I return to my room.

I’ve been marked by my costume and number tag. So, if I remain here, I would only be a ridicule and a topic of humorous discussion for the night.

By tomorrow, they should have forgotten all about what ...