Imposterism | KTH

Vicious

04

Taehyung led me towards the back of the gallery, inside a small storage room for artworks. He closed the door behind us and let go of my hand. It took me some time to adjust to the lack of light.

"Sorry, I didn't tell you I was coming. You don't have to kill me because of that." I teased him as he fumbled around looking for a light switch.

He finally turned on the light. I was once again taken aback by his glowing blue hair and sharp features. "Well, I understand why you didn't wanna tell me."

"Huh? No, you don't." Damn, he knows.

"It's fine. I'm not judging you." Ugh!

That condescending look is exactly why I didn't want to tell him, but I wasn't gonna give him the satisfaction by telling him he is right. "Whatever. Why did you bring me here?"

"To show you this." He said, taking long strides towards what I assumed was a painting covered by an off-white fabric.

"It's actually silly of me, but I bought this here thinking you might come today." 

He pursed his lips staring at the cloth, raking his hand through his gorgeous hair. "You know what, it's stupid. Let's just go back."

"What? No, I wanna see it." I smiled, encouragingly. "Come on, show me."

After a moment of deliberation, "Okay, I'll show you." He bit his lower lip and pulled the cover away.

Being an actress, I have seen flattering fan arts and edits from few of my fans, but what stood in front of me wasn't just that. It was beyond fan art. It was raw and real. I could recognize my face, but it wasn't me, it was Heechan from Stigma, in a cage, staring longingly towards the viewer, as if begging them to release her.

Involuntarily, I went closer, until we stood side by side. "I have no words, Tae." I told him honestly, because it was rousing so many emotions inside me. I remember crying on set after we filmed the last scene. The overwhelming emotions of that character, it was like a part of me died that day. 

"You like it?" He asked, grey eyes piercing right into my soul.

"It's so...so raw. I love it." I answered, sincerely.

"Phew, that's a relief." He wiped his palm on his pants and grinned at me. "And you called me Tae? We're good to give each other nicknames now?"

I chuckled, feeling my face flush. "Was it in your exhibition?"

"No, clearly that's your face, so I couldn't display it." He pouted.

"I know, I look hideous." I joked, still mesmerized by his art. How could he portray that emotion? How could he see beyond what was shown on the screen?

He grinned, turning towards me. "On the contrary, you look beautiful."

It was a simple compliment, one I'd received many times, yet when he said it, they way he said it, it made my stomach react weirdly.

"I know it's not my place to say," He went on, staring down at his shoes. "But you deserve better."

I laughed at the bitter irony. "How'd you know what I deserve?"

Whoever he saw on the screen isn't me. It's my body and voice, but neither my words nor my story. There are deluded people, obsessed with my characters, and it'd be a loss if he was one of them.

He licked his lips, giving my question much more thought than needed. "You're right. I don't."

"So, how much for the painting?" I asked, changing the topic.