CHAPTER 3
Art of Deceit
"Jina," the voice rings through my ears. "Hey," and someone shakes me awake. "We're here."
"Huh?" I blurt, squirming on my seat as I looked around my surroundings.
"We've reached the house, come on." Seokjin shoves me a little whilst I remained in my dazed state. I stare right into his eyes that were brimmed with confusion.
"You coming?" He gets out of the car, waiting for me to do the same but at this point, I'm heaving, trying to catch my breath.
"I don't have all day, young lady." The elderly man spoke from the driver's seat, startling me. I must be in a cab.
"I'm so sorry," Seokjin apologised on my behalf, tugging onto my arm. "What's gotten into you? You've been in a daze ever since getting on the plane." He holds onto my arm and a wave of turmoil crashes over me.
"The plane?" I falter slightly, trying to recall the flight here, but nothing could come to memory.
"Yea," he bends over, looking me in the eye. He senses my current state of anxiousness and takes my hand. "I know being away from home is a scary thing." He said, leading me into the house. Probably the airbnb Mona talked about before. "But don't sweat it. Venice is going to be the best thing to have ever happen to you." He stops abruptly at the door, flashing me the widest smile.
"T-thanks. I think I just need some sleep." I say, rushing in, hoping to be alone but I'm greeted by Mona who had a clipboard in her hands.
"There you guys are!" She heaved a sigh of relief. "Jeffrey Leo wants us at the gallery. Now." Mona grabs my arm and I drop whatever bags I had in my hands.
"I'll bring them up to your room!" Seokjin yells from behind me as I was dragged away.
"Why does he need us right now?" I question, trying to get my head straight.
"Did you forget everything I briefed you on in the plane?" Mona snaps and I stare blankly at her. "Oh, forget it." She groans, sticking her hand into her bag that hung from her shoulders. "Just familiarise yourself with this." She handed me a booklet. "And if Leo asks anything about it, at least pretend to know something."
I looked at the booklet she passed me, lagging behind her as she brisk walked her way in front of me. It was a catalog for the art gallery, the first painting sending a chill down my spine for an odd reason.
"The Art of Deceit." I read it out with a frown.
"Now's not the time to be reading this!" Mona tugs onto my arm firmly, pulling me to walk with her.
"So, do you understand what you have to do?" Mona asked as soon as Leo walked away.
"Answer questions, give extra information on the paintings and-"
"Excellent! Now I'll be back." She cuts me off, raising her hand as she sees someone in a distance. In a second, she walks off, shaking hands with people draped in suits.
"What the hell?" I grab my head, taking in a deep breath as I tried to stay grounded. I couldn't afford to be distracted today. The gallery was in a week and I still had no idea who any of these artists were.
I walk around for a bit, stumbling upon the spine chilling painting that caught my attention from before.
It was a painting of a girl playing the harp for a man in all red dripping with gold standing in front of her. Black ink dripped from her fingers onto the ground but it didn't seem to touch the male. The top part of the canvas also seemed to be dripping with the black ink, onto her.
It was a painting of a girl playing the harp for a man in all red. Her shadow was somewhat distorted, almost dripping whilst his seemed to shroud her in her entirety.
Something about it made me feel uneasy. I open up the catalog, hoping to find a meaning behind this piece.
The shadow self is ones darker side.
Love isn't about destroying this dark side, it's about taking it as your own.
And that was it. It was the shortest description, compared to every other artwork. My eyes remained glued to the Art of Deceit as the thought provoking sentences circled my mind.
"Who painted you?" I took a step closer, but before I could catch the artist's name, Mona grabs my attention.
"Here," she drops a bunch of papers in my hands. "These are the possible questions that could be thrown your way, so you have to start preparing."
"Like right now?" My brows furrow.
"Yes, there's a reason why I got a place so close to the gallery. Now go!"
I drop everything on the table, flopping onto the seat a moment later as I stared at the stack of papers. "You can do this. It's just 564 questions." I sighed. "You can do this." I try telling myself even though I barely believed it.
"So, first." I flipped through the pages and realised most of them were on the Art of Deceit which makes sense since it had a vague description.
I started off by catching little details of the painting, like a tiny arrow in the girl's heart which tainted her with a black ink. After getting down the little details, I began my research, landing on the same website I came across. That demented face scattered across the page. "You're okay." I tell myself, not wanting to be distracted.
The last time, I couldn't bring myself to read the full article, but this time I would have to. "Wait a second." I came across the sculpture by Salvatore Albano that I stumbled upon in the art museum with Taehyung months back. "The fallen angels," I read out the name of the sculpture. "A great depiction of the shadow self." I noticed myself getting lost in the article, going deeper and deeper into the search until something stood out.
"Shadow selfs are not present in an angel, but the shadow self of a fallen angel overpowers anyone else's." I read it aloud, and everything starts clicking as I understood the Art of Deceit.
The little arrow symbolised the shot of love, like cupid, and the man in red was the fallen angel of love. "But why would he be fallen?" I question, trying to prepare myself for the questions that could be thrown at me.
I went deeper into the digging, finding everything that I needed and jotted it down. "Cupid was meant to give love but was never meant for love."
"So, in essence, the artist was trying to portray that love is not for everyone. In this instance, even the angel of love is not capable of love himself, thus tainting the love that was given by the girl which is symbolised by the harp. The harp is said to be an ancient artistic symbol of love." I say, captivating everyone with each word.
"It all boils down to the fact that a one-sided love corrupts love. No matter how pure which is clearly symbolised by her white gown getting tainted by his touch." I glance back at the painting as my mouth continued to spurt out the words I had managed to memorise.
My eyes catches sight of the artist's name and I realised I had not found out who he or she was yet. I subtly step closer towards it whilst speaking and finally it was visible to my eyes.
The Boy.
Just when I thought everything was finally calming down, a storm brews up within me as those two simple words stirred up memories. It can't be. I tell myself it's just a coincidence, that my thought process was absurd. Instinctively, I reach into my pocket, feeling the last thing he left me with. The fabric.
For some reason, I had been bringing it around with me. That sense of security and familiarity that came along with it was enough to get me to be at peace but this time, it sent nerves surging through my body.
As I snapped myself back to reality, I noticed how I was standing alone. The art critics had left and I couldn't remember when I had finished speaking.
My gaze floated back to the artwork, my finger toying with the fabric as I scanned the art. I felt like I had barely started to understand the profound meaning behind it. As my mind tried coming up with more theories behind the painting, footsteps start to echo from behind me.
I turn around, thinking it would be Mona but as soon as my eyes landed on the figure, my expression dropped. I balled up the fabric as my fingers pressed itself into a fist.
"Hey," the baritone of his voice reverberates through me, sending goosebumps prickling all over me. "I didn't think I'd see you here."
I don't say a word, staring at the brunette that stood before me. He carries the silence as he fiddles with his tie, looking at me as though waiting for a response.
"Y-you're here." I stumble over my words. "Why- why are you here, Taehyung?"
. . .
-unedited
A/N: I'm so so so unsatisfied with this chapter. I hope you guys bear with me as I slowly edit this chapter and the following chapters. I've been really busy but I also wanted to update :( I'm sorry if it seems messy ah, I'll do better in the next chapter.