The Devil Wearing a Mask (Part 2: Grooming)
Two months later. Summer.
The private lessons had been wonderful at first.
Professor Kim's studio was in an upscale neighborhood in Gangnam, a converted loft space filled with artwork and sculptures. Twice a week, Se-na would arrive in the evening, and they would work together for two or three hours.
Kim Tae-sung was an excellent teacher. He taught her advanced techniques, showed her his own works-in-progress, discussed the philosophy and theory behind contemporary art. Se-na's skills improved dramatically under his guidance.
But slowly, subtly, things began to change.
It started with small things.
"You know, Se-na," Professor Kim said one evening as they worked side by side, "I don't like the formality between us. We're not just teacher and student—we're artists. Colleagues. You can call me 태성 오빠 when we're alone. No need for 'Professor.'"
Se-na hesitated. It felt wrong, too familiar. But she also didn't want to seem ungrateful or stuffy.
"I... if you're sure that's okay..."
"Of course it's okay. I insist."
The next change came a few sessions later.
"Se-na, do you know when the best art is created?" Kim Tae-sung asked, setting down his sculpting tools.
"When the artist is inspired?"
"Close. But more specifically—when the artist is vulnerable. Uninhibited. When all the usual boundaries and defenses are stripped away." He walked to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine. "That's why so many great artists throughout history have used alcohol or other substances. Not to escape reality, but to access deeper truth."
He poured two glasses and offered her one.
Se-na looked at the wine uncertainly. "I don't really drink, Professor—I mean, 오빠..."
"An artist who's afraid to explore altered states of consciousness is limiting their own potential," Kim said gently. "How can you express the full range of human experience if you're always controlled and sober? Just try it. One glass. I promise it will change how you see your work."
Se-na took the glass.
That became a pattern. Each session would end with wine. One glass became two. Two became three. Kim always framed it as part of the artistic process, and Se-na, eager to please and learn, went along with it.
The sessions also got later. What had started at 7 PM now often didn't begin until 9 or 10.
"Artists are nocturnal creatures," Kim explained. "The night is when we do our best work. Haven't you noticed? The daytime is for ordinary people with ordinary concerns. But night—night is when the truth emerges."
Se-na's sleep schedule shifted. She started sleeping through morning classes, working in the studio until dawn. Her friendships with other students frayed.
"You're different lately," one of her classmates said with concern. "You're always tired. Always stressed. And you never hang out with us anymore."
"I'm fine," Se-na insisted. "I'm just taking my art seriously. Some of us actually care about our craft."
The words came out harsher than she intended, but she was too exhausted to apologize.
Kim Tae-sung's influence was working. He was isolating her, making her dependent on him, breaking down the boundaries between them. And Se-na, trusting and naive, didn't see what was happening until it was too late.
Professor Cha Eun-young found Se-na alone in the studio one afternoon in late August. The girl looked exhausted—dark circles under her eyes, thinner than she'd been at the start of the semester.
"Se-na," Professor Cha said gently. "Can we talk?"
"Of course, Professor."
"How are the private lessons with Professor Kim going?"
Se-na's face lit up—the first genuine smile Professor Cha had seen from her in weeks.
"They're amazing! I'm learning so much. Professor Kim says I'm his most talented student in years. He's helping me develop a completely new artistic vision."
"That's wonderful," Professor Cha said carefully. "But... Se-na, you need to be careful not to become too dependent on any one mentor. It's important to maintain balance. To have multiple influences and perspectives."
Se-na's expression cooled slightly. "I appreciate your concern, Professor, but I'm fine. Really."
"It's just... I've noticed you seem more isolated lately. You're not spending time with your peers—"
"Because they don't understand," Se-na interrupted. "They're making pretty things for their parents to put on shelves. I'm creating actual art. Professor Kim is the only one who really gets what I'm trying to do."
There it was. The complete dependence. The belief that Kim Tae-sung was the only person who truly understood her.
Professor Cha had seen this before.
"Se-na, please. Just... be careful. Don't rely too heavily on—"
"I'm fine, Professor Cha," Se-na said firmly. "Really. You don't need to worry about me."
She gathered her things and left, leaving Professor Cha alone with her fears.
September. A Friday night.
Se-na arrived at Kim Tae-sung's studio at 11 PM—later than usual. She'd been working on a major piece all week, and tonight they were supposed to finalize it.
When she entered, she found Kim already pouring wine. Two glasses on the table.
"Perfect timing," he said with a smile. "Your piece is finished, Se-na. It's brilliant. We should celebrate."
Se-na looked at the wine uncertainly. She'd been trying to cut back on the drinking—it was starting to affect her health, her sleep, her focus during the day.
"I don't know if I should tonight. I'm really tired, and—"
"Se-na." Kim's voice had an edge to it she'd never heard before. "Are you an artist or not? Are you committed to your craft or are you going to be ordinary like everyone else?"
The words stung. Being "ordinary" was Se-na's greatest fear.
"I... of course I'm committed."
"Then have a drink. Celebrate your achievement. Don't insult my hospitality."
Se-na took the glass.
One glass became two. Two became three. The room started to swim.
"I should probably go," Se-na said, her words slightly slurred. "It's late and I feel..."
"Sit down," Kim said. His voice was no longer gentle. "We need to discuss your next piece."
Se-na sat, her head spinning.
Kim moved his chair closer to hers. Much closer than usual.
"You know, Se-na, I've invested a lot in you these past months. My time. My expertise. My reputation."
"I know, Professor. I'm so grateful—"
"Actions speak louder than words."
His hand landed on her shoulder. Heavy. Possessive.
Se-na froze.
"Professor, I don't—"
"You're special, Se-na. You and I... we have a connection. An artistic bond. Don't you feel it?"
His hand moved from her shoulder to her back. She could feel his breath on her neck.
"Professor Kim, this isn't—please stop—"
"Stop?" His voice turned cold. "After everything I've done for you? Do you know how many students would kill to be in your position?"
"I'm grateful, but this isn't appropriate—"
"This is what artistic partnership looks like, Se-na. This is the communion between mentor and student. Between artist and muse. You're so naive. So sheltered. Let me show you what real artistic connection means."
His grip tightened. Se-na tried to stand, but the room spun violently. The wine. There was something wrong with the wine.
"Please," she whispered. "Please don't—"
"Shh. Just relax. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Why else would you come here late at night? Drink with me? You're a smart girl. You knew what this was."
"No—no I didn't—please—"
The sound of a wine glass shattering on the floor.
Clay tools scattering.
Se-na's voice, breaking: "Please stop—please—"
And then—
Darkness.
Dawn light filtered through the studio windows.
Se-na sat in the corner of the room, knees pulled to her chest, staring at nothing. Her clothes were disheveled. Her body ached. Her mind couldn't process what had happened.
It felt like floating outside herself. Like this was happening to someone else.
The studio door opened. Kim Tae-sung entered, fully dressed, carrying coffee. He looked calm. Composed. As if last night had been a normal evening.
"You should go home and rest," he said casually. "You drank too much last night. I called you a taxi."
Se-na stared at him, unable to speak.
Kim sat down across from her, his expression almost kind.
"Last night was a beautiful expression of our artistic connection, Se-na. A deepening of our mentor-student bond. I hope you understand that."
"That wasn't—" Se-na's voice came out as a rasp. "You—"
"I know you might feel confused right now," Kim interrupted smoothly. "But in time, you'll understand. What happened between us was natural. Inevitable. The logical conclusion of the artistic chemistry we've been building."
"You raped me." The words came out as a whisper.
Kim's expression hardened.
"Don't use that word. What happened was consensual. You came here willingly. You drank willingly. You stayed willingly. If you try to claim otherwise, no one will believe you."
He stood and looked down at her.
"I've been teaching for twenty years, Se-na. I have tenure. I have connections throughout the art world. I have friends on the university board. You're a first-year student who's been isolated from her peers and drinking heavily. Who do you think people will believe?"
Se-na felt something break inside her.
"Here's what's going to happen," Kim continued. "You're going to go home. You're going to clean yourself up. And you're going to keep quiet about this. For your own sake. For your future. If you try to make trouble, I will destroy your reputation so thoroughly that you'll never work in art again."
He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. Se-na's phone buzzed.
Kim Tae-sung: Last night was a beautiful artistic exchange between mentor and student. I hope you don't misunderstand what happened. For both our sakes, it's best to keep our special connection private. Your future in art depends on discretion.
"There," Kim said. "Now there's a record of me framing this as consensual. Just insurance."
He walked to the door.
"The taxi is waiting downstairs. I'll see you in class on Monday. I expect you to act professionally."
Then he was gone.
Se-na sat alone in the studio as dawn turned to morning, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything except replay the nightmare over and over in her mind.
[End of Chapter 4]
Next: Chapter 5 "The Devil Wearing an Angel's Mask (Part 3: Destruction)"