Devil’s Music

"What did you say? A student?"

A man with a lean figure, slightly oversized in his suit, brown hair neatly parted, and donning gold-rimmed glasses, leaned against the window frame of a New York office, gazing at the refreshing cityscape outside with a surprised expression.

Sharon and Corigliano Professors were visiting him the day after their meeting with Professor Price. The room, adorned with ample, clear windows, was the CEO's office, centrally located within New York's Metropolitan Museum.

Sharon spoke calmly, "Sir, not just a student. This is the student who completed Isaac Albéniz's Asturias, a piece I myself couldn't finish."

Daniel Weiss adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and replied, "Please, don't address me as 'sir,' Professor. Just call me Daniel. Nevertheless, despite the prodigious talent, he's still a student. Can we entrust the music of historically significant masterpieces to him?"

Corigliano interjected, as if waiting to speak, "Yes, Daniel. Let's give him a chance. If the student can't find a way, we'll take responsibility again."

Daniel glanced intently at Corigliano before saying, "I'm curious about this student. Seeing both of you here simultaneously, there must be something remarkable about this student. But from the CEO's perspective, I'm concerned about our staff's resistance."

Daniel removed his hand from the window frame and stood before the two, saying, "Until now, our proud curators have tolerated outsourcing because of your reputation. If not for both of you, they would have tried to resolve this internally. Whether the outcome is good or bad, we've never outsourced."

Sharon nodded, "Of course, the curators at the renowned New York Metropolitan should hold that level of pride and dignity. It's natural for such resistance."

Daniel looked at Sharon and then Corigliano, alternating his gaze, before turning to the window again. After a moment of contemplation, Daniel faced them again, saying, "Alright. If these three, Sharon Isbin, John Corigliano, and Leontine Price, unanimously recommend this student, let's persuade our curators to give him a chance. But we might need to leverage your names for persuasion. Otherwise, it might be hard to convince them."

With a brightened face, Daniel raised his index finger, "However, we can't delay for too long. We're aware this is an issue that needs urgent resolution for us as well. One week. Even if we can't resolve it within a week, we need a direction. Assuming that direction is appropriate, we'll proceed with the next steps."

Daniel turned to Sharon, asking, "The student's name is Geon Kim, right? Is he Professor Isbin's student?"

Sharon nodded, and Daniel continued, "He mentioned he was a freshman, so he must be quite young. Considering the strong personalities of our senior male curators, we'll assign a more flexible and young female curator from our end."

Corigliano chuckled, "When young folks gather, scandals tend to brew. Geon might find it hard to concentrate. Haha."

Daniel smiled back, "Is that so? Then, as a token of playful retaliation to you both for this request, I'll assign the most beautiful curator to disrupt that student's focus. That way, you two will have to take charge again, haha."

Two days later, at 7 AM.

As the New York Metropolitan Museum opened at 10 AM, a tall woman with neatly tied red hair and dressed in a crisp white shirt and black women's suit was waiting under the still-deserted steps at the entrance. Despite being well-dressed and put together, she appeared slightly awkward, giving off a vibe of someone in her mid-twenties.

She neatly folded her hands and looked around before yawning tiredly, "Ugh, so sleepy. What am I doing up since dawn? Even if it's Juilliard School, trusting our work to a student... Lucas, who heard about it yesterday, must have been ready to storm out red-faced."

As she fidgeted, trying to ward off the cold, she caught sight of a man carrying a guitar running toward her in the distance. Swiftly fixing her appearance, she froze as she watched the approaching man.

Apologetically, he said, "Hi, I'm really sorry. I was practicing late into the night and overslept. I was so surprised when I woke up at six. I apologize for this first meeting."

Geon respectfully bowed but the woman stood frozen, looking at him with dazed eyes. Geon scratched his head and said, "Um... Are you Abigail Cheshire? Professor Sharon mentioned you earlier. I'm Geon Kim."

Abigail couldn’t regain her composure. She’d never seen anyone quite like him, not in TV shows or movies. His angelic smile was contradicted by intense, almost vampiric eyes. His porcelain skin and crimson lips unwittingly invited one's touch.

Unaware of this, Geon thought Abigail was angry and fretted.

"Um, I'm really sorry. I’m terribly late, aren't I?"

Studying Geon from head to toe, Abigail fiddled with her hands, lost in thought.

"The white shoes are from Zibangshi, black pants and a cotton-blue shirt from Christian Dior, and the black coat is from Valmani. Oh my, the watch peeking from the coat sleeve is Patek Philippe! He looks like a prince, what do I do!"

Seeing Abigail lost in her own world, Geon lightly touched her arm.

"Hey, Abigail?"

Startled by Geon's touch, Abigail blushed, waving her hands frantically.

"Oh, no! I wasn't thinking anything strange! Uh, um? Uh, umm?"

Puzzled by Geon’s curious gaze, Abigail, despite trying to remain composed, couldn’t hide her trembling voice.

"S-Sorry. I, um, had a brief distraction... I’m Abigail Chaser. I'm the curator here at the museum."

Geon, finally acknowledging Abigail's introduction, apologized again.

"Nice to meet you. I'm sorry for making you wait outside in this cold weather."

Abigail gestured as if to dismiss any discomfort.

"Oh, no, I didn’t wait long. Uh, do you... want to come in?"

Geon smiled and headed up the stairs, observing Abigail's following gaze and silently thinking.

‘This fool! What a first impression! If she thinks I’m some whimsical guy, how will that be? Ugh...’

As Geon reached the door, Abigail, surprised, hurried to catch up.

"Um, Abigail? The door..."

Abigail, switching between the doorknob and Geon's face, apologized when she realized her mistake.

"Oh! S-Sorry! Let me open it!"

Struggling with the lock, Abigail finally managed to open the door after several failed attempts. Geon found her endearing but refrained from commenting on her charm given the situation. He smiled at Abigail once and entered.

Feeling embarrassed, Abigail, proud of her job as a curator at a top-notch museum and a musical prodigy at Juilliard, felt her mind go blank upon seeing Geon.

‘Unbelievable! Is that even a person? Why isn't he an actor or a model, why music?’

Though Geon disappeared inside, Abigail hesitated to follow.

‘I've never seen anyone like him, even in my dreams! Ugh, did I just meet my ideal type?’

As Geon beckoned from inside, Abigail, startled, rushed in, clutching her head in frustration.

In the dim interior, Geon marveled as Abigail turned on the lights.

"Wow! It looks even more magnificent with the antique interior!"

In the grand lobby of the New York Metropolitan Museum, Geon’s admiration echoed, leaving Abigail anxious.

‘Oh no, this antique setting makes him look even cooler!’

Abigail struggled to regain her composure while Geon explored. Luckily, his wandering allowed her time to collect herself. When Geon was ready to move, Abigail spoke calmly.

"Mr. Geon, um, if you follow this corridor and open the brown door on your right, it leads to the 19th-century painting gallery."

Geon nodded and smiled before walking in the direction Abigail indicated. As they turned into the corridor marked ‘To the 19th-century painting gallery,’ vibrant paintings adorned the ornate walls.

Geon’s eyes widened at the first painting he encountered.

Passing by, he was astonished by the four paintings, reaching tentatively towards one as if the colors were real.

‘Colors in a painting?’

>

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