A Magician's Gift

Metropolis

I woke up the next morning, it was Sunday. Today was the day that I'm going to show my new friend around Metropolis. The city of your dreams. I rolled over and saw it was 10:30. I slept for another two hours or so, woke up, and lounged around, doing my nails. My phone rang loudly, scaring the shit out of me. "AH! HOLY SHIT!" I yelled, screwing my nail polish up and jumping off my bed. "LOVE! ARE YOU OKAY?!" I heard Daddy yell. "Yeah, Daddy, I'm fine! I just- My phone rang and scared me!" I yelled back through the door. Oh, of course, it's John. "Good morning, Zatanna!"

"Please, it's Zee. I hate being called Zatanna," I told him, my voice shaking. "And good morning, Constantine. More like afternoon, but, good morning, Constantine," I said, looking at the clock, seeing that it was 12:15. 

"Are you okay? Your voice is kinda shaky. You alright, Luv?"

"Yeah... I'm fine. My phone ringtone just scared the living life out of me and nearly gave me a heart attack, sorry. I can be ready in an hour if you want me to start showing you around."

"An hour? Is that how long girls take to get ready?"

"Yes, John, some of us actually want to take our time in the morning to take care of personal hygiene," I told him, putting my phone on speakerphone. "Crap, where'd I put... there it is," I mumbled to myself. "Okay, I'll call you back when I'm ready, alright? The rest of my friends won't be around for another two or three hours at the earliest, so sorry if you were looking forward to meeting them. I also might have to run, depending on how bad the super-villain activity is."

"Got it. See you whenever?"

"Yeah. Oh, um... also..."

"What?"

"So, you probably know my dad's a magician, both on stage and in real life."

"Yeah, I do. What does that have to do with anything?"

"You earned yourself quite the name amongst my father and others," I told him, sitting down at my vanity table and starting on my face makeup, applying foundation. 

"I'll take that as a compliment, Zatanna."

"So you can probably imagine that I wanted to find out more and why a British demon Hunter was in America," I told him, placing my foundation down and grabbing my shading palette. 

"Bollocks," he muttered.

"You're an orphan."

"Well, yes. What does that... oh c'mon, for Lord's sake, don't tell me you're not gonna be friends with me and avoid my arse because I got into a little bit o' trouble with the Filth."

"The what?"

"What do you Americans call them? Police?"

"Ah. No, that's not it. I was just confused because you said that your parents were finishing up paperwork for you to go to MHS," I told him as I started on my eyes. 

"Bollocks," he muttered again. I could barely hear him. "I'm just tryna get the Filth off my trail. Better to not make any public appearances with my name attached for the moment being. That's why I'm not going to MHS until next week after being here for basically a week."

"You were convicted of—"

"My mum and dad's murders, yes, I know, it was a bloody misunderstanding. I was dealing with a demon and it got out of hand and ended up going after my parents after I foiled its evil plans. And the authorities don't exactly take 'My parents were attacked by a demon I stopped while my arse was in detention for smoking in class' as a legitimate alibi and cause of death. Look, Luv, I'm sure you've got your fair share of fuck-ups, alright?"