The Magician's Assistant

[3] Meeting Will

Now, I was able to see details about the oh-so-famous magician. He had wispy and seemingly spiky blonde hair which was sticking out in different directions. It gave him the tousled ‘I just got out of bed’ look. The hairstyle definitely worked for him; he didn’t look greasy, grubby, or un-hygienic. In fact, he looked well-kempt. He towered a couple inches over me, and when I looked up, his dark cobalt blue eyes were narrowed down into a glare.

“Done gawking?” He questioned.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I quipped, my face heating up plenty of degrees.

“Whatever. Get out,” he snapped.

“I um – I can’t. It’s locked, as I just said…” I said, pushing the door as proof that it wouldn’t open.

“How did you even get in here? What, do you want an autograph? Snap some pictures? Go ahead. Should’ve guessed. Do it and get the hell out of my face,” He crossed his arms.

“Look, I don’t know you, but you’re putting me in a really bad mood. You need to relax a little and then we can talk rationally,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“You’re being a brat. Stop it,” I said, narrowing my eyes down into slits at him.

“And what makes you think I’ll listen to you?” He demanded.

“Hmm, good question. Do you ever listen to anybody at all?” I asked.

He froze for a minute and then muttered something unintelligible. “What did you say?” I asked.

“I said no. I do not listen or answer to anybody, nor do I have to-”

“William Alex Larkin, get your ass over here this instant!” A woman’s voice boomed, sounding beyond livid. Yet again, I cringed at her language.

“Oh no – the full name. Somebody’s in trouble…” I teased in a sing-song voice.

“Come with me. If you’re there too, she won’t yell as much,” he said, grabbing my arm. A small gasp escaped my mouth when his skin came in contact with mine. His hands were smooth as marble, but freezing cold. Where we touched, my skin rippled with tiny goose bumps. He was like ice. At the same time, it was like magnetism. I didn’t want him to remove his hand.

A surprised expression flitted on his face, but the second I identified it, it disappeared. The cold contact disappeared as well, and when I looked down at his hands black gloves covered them.

“Where’d the gloves come from?” I asked. I swear, they had just appeared out of thin air.

“My pocket,” he snapped. I blushed slightly, feeling a little stupid for asking such a dumb question.

“William? Where are you? Why is there broken glass everywhere? Where’d Jasmine go? I swear when I see you I’ll strangle you with my bare hands!” The angry woman shouted.

William sent me a pleading look. Sighing, I trailed behind him into the other room where the burly woman stood, red faced.

“William! What is this? What did you do now?” The woman put her hands on her face, slowly rubbing her temples. Once seeing me, she took a deep breath.

“Jasmine quit,” William said simply.

“Jasmine what?” The woman’s face, if possible, turned an angrier shade of red.

“You heard me,” said William, his face completely expressionless.

“You need an assistant. What did you do to her? I swear William, you’ll be the death of me!” The woman shouted, infuriated.