Michael was feeling anxious, antsy. His hands were shaking and his knees were unsteady. It was always like this. Always. Since his first magic show when he was fifteen. Mom was there that time in the crowd. Cheering him on and applauding for the rest of them. All these years later, Michael was back. A better magician - a better man. But the same anxiety remained.
"Michael?" Racheal, his assistant, poked him on his shoulder. "Are you... crying?"
Michael wiped the tears with his glove. "I seem to be, yeah." Racheal squeezed his hand. "I know, love. I know. I'm... I'm doing this for her..."
"Baby. I love you. We can cancel the show and -"
"No!" His yell surprised her. "No. Baby, thank you. I'm doing the show. We are doing the show. I just... I just..."
"I know, love." She rubbed his hand. "I know... I miss her too..."
"Five minutes!" shouted the stagehand.
Michael nodded, more to himself than to anyone else. He looked at Racheal and nodded again. She smiled, kissed him on his cheek, and was off to her booth. In the past, they would always re-rehearse their show - talk about it until the very last minute. No longer. They were so used to each other that Michael considered her a part of his soul. They knew what to do.
Michael put on his top hat and started his breathing exercises. Just like mom taught him. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Nose in, mouth out. That's it. Calm. Steady. You got this Micheal.
Thanks, mom.
"Showtime, Michael!"
Michael rushed on stage in his characteristic, trademark way. He took off his top hat in a sweeping motion. Exulting in the roar of the crowd. His eyes naturally went to row six, seat one. He insisted that it be left open. So that mom could watch. He nearly broke character, seeing the empty seat. But it was too late for that.
The show must go on.
"Ladies and gentlemen! I bid you welcome! As always thank you for spending your hard-earned money on a hack like me!" His opening monologue was always the same since he made it way back when. "For indulging this fake adult, trying to live his childish dream..."
The speech went on, mesmerizing the crowd. He did his tricks as he talked, using each to punctuate his sentences: a card that would become a flower, a dove that would appear out of nowhere, a rose that would transform into wine. Child's play for him now, but still useful.
There is no useless trick, son. There's a place for everything.
Racheal came out to thunderous applause. He was so lucky to have her. The moon of his life, his other half. She had saved him and in return; he had rescued her. A fair exchange! He would joke, earning him the now ever-present Fool! comment. He smiled at her and she could tell he was going through it. She winked back. Yes. She always knew how to keep him in check.
They performed their tricks. Each more wondrous and magical than the last. Michael couldn't help but remember what it was like the first time he stepped foot on this stage. His tricks were pedestrian if we were being generous; his voice was shaking and his coat was two sizes too big. But the crowd was just as loud to him as the packed house was now. His crowd, of course, was his mom.
He looked at the empty seat again. And felt the stark contrast hit him like a bag of bricks. The once empty theatre only occupied by that seat, was now packed excluding said seat. He noticed the lull in the crowd, the murmuring, and realized he was just staring at his mom's spot. Seeing as how Michael was a master now, he used the silence to his advantage. Hyping the next act even further. The crowd went wild at the shift in tone.
Even now you're making me a better performer.
"Ladies and gentlemen! For our final act! We will dazzle you with..." He let the drum roll run its course. "Illusion!"
Racheal did a mock surprised face that made the audience giggle. Michael took her by the hand and led her to the center of the stage where two chairs sat expectantly. Racheal sat in one, put her feet on the other, winked at the crowd, and was covered by the cover. Her sultry outline was clearly visible to anyone.
Michael did his usual spill of showing there were no mirrors to speak off. But really anyone with eyes could see that this trick was near impossible to pull off. It was Michael's pride and joy. A classic trick, making the assistant disappear, but done in such a way that it left no doubt that magic truly existed.
Ever the showman, Michael said the words. "I'll be there soon, my love. Will you wait for me?"
"Of course, my love." Her muffled voice said.
"Then I shall let you go first."
"Later, my love."
"Until then! Abra -"
Michael turned to see row six seat one, and the beautiful redhead grinning from ear to ear. Her proud eyes were unmistakable. Mother?
Michael blinked, and she was gone.
"- Kadabra!"
Racheal's silhouette remained, but when Michael removed the cover, only empty air remained. The collective gasp from the crowd was as exhilarating as it ever was. As loud as it ever was. But Michael's smile was gone.
He dropped to his knees, staring at the empty seat with tears in his eyes. The crowd chanted, standing up and clapping their hands. Michael broke down, crying like the boy he felt he was.
Never be ashamed to cry, son. We cannot know the joy of laughter, without that crucial contrast.
Michael got up. Clapping with the rest of them. His tears like droplets.
Racheal came out and hugged him. Squeezing him tight.
"I saw her..." Was all Michael could say. "I saw her, Racheal. She looked so proud..."
"I know, baby." She kissed his cheek. "I know." She let him cry for a few more minutes. "Love. The epilogue. Will you do it?"
"Yes..." He wheezed. Then, a more resounding. "Yes, love. I will."
He turned the now-standing crowd and bowed. Before going into his final act, his epilogue.
The show, of course, must go on.
This story is a part of the Dreem-Wotw challenge, S1 R5 - Illusion!
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