((Sorry I've been gone guys, love you all, just been distracted. Anyway, have some human!Chopin
))

Wanting to love.
Wanting to be loved.
Which do I wish for?
Being hurt
Hurting others.
Both means to live.

The soft spiraling of dancers, caught up in a trance that they could never escape, one of sound and sight, thrumming of violins, cellos, flutes and harps, the soft glint, shine, and flash of masks and clothing, soft silk and satin.

For them the joy came of dancing, of their soft spins and waltzes, glancing into the eyes hidden beneath the masks, feeling some sort of power being able to guess just from a spark of eyes or lilt of mouth.

A million and one masks.
Masks atop masks, for in the young violinist's opinion, life itself was a masquerade.
To him, no dancers held power, 'twas all in the hands of the musicians to slow and speed the rhythm at which they moved.

"Mr.Chopin, care to dance with me?"

The blue haired youth arched a delicate brow, a soft smile forming beneath the dark bird mask he wore, and he shook his head over a sip of dark red wine.

"How did you know it was me?" he inquired, amber eyes flashing playfully at the girl who had spoken.

"Oh everyone can tell you apart Chopin" she giggled, "you have such odd coloured hair, and the strangest eyes!"

"my eyes?" he cocked his head, "what's so strange about my eyes?"

The young lady rolled her own eyes, "why, have you ever seen anyone in heaven or earth who've eyes the colour of a ripe blood orange?" she questioned him, hands on her hips.

He gave a small bow, wine glass held out to the side, other arm crossing his stomach, loose sleeves falling back to expose a pale arm.

"Well I am sorry M'lady"

The girl looked taken aback, "whatever for?"

"For not being normal" he laughed lightly, "for not resigning myself to the whims of the rest of mankind for you see madame, I compose" he reached up, removing his mask, eyes smiling just as much as his mouth, gold-tipped bangs falling down now that the object was gone.

"I do not dance"

And at that he was gone, lost among the throng of dancers, leaving a most confused young woman behind him.

Lyrics in italics from the song; Monochoreact. which is not originally in english by the way.

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