Art of Deceit

VIII

CHAPTER EIGHT
tried

"Jina, slow down." His voice is laced with desperation as I'm scrambling to get everything in my luggage.

"I can't, something's wrong back home." I say, rushing to leave. I didn't even have a ticket yet.

"Jina, wait." And Taehyung holds me, getting me to look him in his eyes and everything in me goes still. "What's going on?" He asks, his voice so smooth, I drop everything in my hands.

"Annora called, she remembers the accident and found something I've been looking for." I say, not wanting to tell him more, mainly because I didn't know much either. I tried calling Annora back, but it kept going to voicemail.

"Like the letter?" He questions and I tense up. "I overheard you talking about it on the phone." He says, eyes still searching mine. A part of him changes with the mention of the letter but I choose to ignore it.

"There's a lot that's happening and I just need to be back home. Where I can make everything make sense." I say, wanting to be an over and done with the torment. For some reason, I've believed the idea that the letter's connected to everything and with that, I'll finally be able to leave everything behind. Yeona and him. The demented figure.

As I say this, his demeanour shifts. "Okay, look." He gets me to sit down on my bed. "We'll go back tomorrow. We're never going to get a ticket for today. So why don't you just take a second to breathe?" He tries calming me down.

Before he could get another word out, Seokjin walks through the door with a huge binder. "Mona wants a paper on Jackson Pollock's-" and he stops the moment his eyes land on Taehyung.

"Oh." It leaves his lips as he stared at the both of us. "Is everything okay?" Seokjin glances at me, noticing my distressed state and I simply nod.

"Yes, everything's fine and you can just leave it on my desk. I'll get it to her by tonight." I say and with a reluctant nod, he leaves the room. I turn to face Taehyung and let out a sigh. "You're right. I can't just leave this position too. I have to speak to Mona and hopefully she'll understand."

"I'm sure she will. Just get your mind off everything for now, okay?" He's close to whispering as his hand wraps around mind. The comforting warmth from his hold embraces me for a second and I let myself breathe.

"Okay," I look up at him. "I should get started on the paperwork Mona wants." I say as I get up.

"I could help you, Jackson Pollock was one of my favourite artists." He gives me a hollowed smile, his head high. There's something about him that's still shifted.

"Thank you, but I think I got this." I say with a smile of my own. "I'll be sure to call you if I need any help though." I walk him out.

I read through the articles Mona had prepared for me, going through Jackson Pollock's works and then I come across a quote that stands out.

Painting is self-discovery. Every good artist paints what he is.

I sit silent for a moment as something pops into my head. I pull up an image of Taehyung's painting, the Art of Deceit, from my previous paper work and I stare at it.

Was Taehyung painting what he was?

I stare at the man dressed in red and how his shadow shrouded the girl and an eery memory springs up in my mind. "And now it's yours" I remember the voice I heard in the gallery with Taehyung earlier today.

I recall Taehyung talking about the shadow self and everything starts connecting in my head. Was I taking on his shadow? But why would he have a shadow?

My eyes gaze over the painting which left me unsettled and I figured talking to Taehyung would be the best option, perhaps the only option.

I grab my bag, slinging it over me as I made my way to Taehyung's apartment hastily, needing a clarity of mind. As I reach his apartment, I feel myself getting more anxious by the second, not knowing why.

Before I knock, I realise his door's ajar. "Taehyung?" I call out, pushing the door open, "your door's open." I walk in, somewhat reluctantly.

His apartment was dark, shards of the moonlight slipping through cracks of the blinds. I walk around, stumbling over unidentified objects and that's when I realise his apartment's in a mess. Books everywhere, papers scattered on the ground. "Taehyung?" This time I'm yelling because I'm not sure if someone's broken in or if this was his doing.

I rush up the steps, into his room only to find it empty. A breath gets knocked out of me as I stand in his room, confused. I go through his drawers which all appeared to be emptied out. "This isn't happening." I whispered to myself, swinging the closet door open. I stared at the hangers on the ground, his clothes missing.

I walk into it, "what the hell?" I stared at the empty closet, confusion engulfing me. My eyes scan the area and right in the corner, I spot a painting laid to rest against the wall.

I bend over picking it up and stare at the Art of Deceit, not understanding what it was doing here instead of the gallery. I place it back down, but it slides, dropping face down on the ground and before I could pick it back up, I catch something scribbled on the back.

Jina, I really tried.