The inside of the tower was nothing like the outside.
From the plaza, it had looked like an old office building that someone had cleaned up and put lights in. But the moment the glass doors slid shut behind them, Jin felt like he'd walked into the backstage of a theater the size of a city.
The lobby was full of color. Bolts of red and gold fabric were stacked against the walls. Racks of costumes stood in long rows where the reception desks used to be, hanging robes and coats and dresses in every shade Jin could imagine. A dozen crew members sat on the floor in a circle, painting the faces of enormous paper lanterns, each one taller than a person. Someone was playing a slow tune on a flute near the elevators, stopping and starting it again every few notes, trying to get it right.
None of them looked up when Ho-seok walked in. To them, he was just another plain mask.
