Chapter 03 — Setting the Stage

The lights shone bright on his eyes, but with a few clever spells, he'd altered how the photons struck him so he could remain fully illuminated without actually blind. In his line of work, being able to read everybody around him was critical to success. Adjustments were always necessary, no matter how perfect his performance—after all, every show was dependent on how well the audience reacted.

"And now, if you'd be so kind," said Jonathan Hudson with a wide grin. He gestured—making sure his cape flew out wide as he did—to an ordinary chair sitting on the stage.

The young woman giggled and started forward. As loathe as Jonathan felt toward the idea, it held true that everybody in the audience tended to prefer when a cute girl ended up his volunteer. He was a showman, through and through, and if that's what it took to put on the best show… so be it. At least he didn't make them out to be fools like some other magicians he'd seen.

As the young woman sat down, the chair suddenly lifted into midair.

"Oh!"

Jonathan smiled, lifting his hands in unison with the chair—and inwardly buckling from the strain a little. She's heavier than I expected… That's the other reason to use cute girls, I guess. "Hold on tight!"

The chair flew out above the audience, trailing sparks and fog as it did. The fog was actually created by tiny canisters concealed inside the legs, to save Jonathan a bit of energy. He'd learned to mix practical effects and legitimate magic over the last few weeks to give his shows that extra level of excitement without additional drain.

As soon as I learn how to enchant objects… this is going to a whole new level. I hear they're developing it in the Greywood right now.

As the young woman swung out over the small theater, people gasped and clapped. The sparks were totally harmless, of course—they weren't even real, just photons of light generated by Jonathan—while the fog dissipated before it reached eye-level. The chair did two circuits before bringing the young woman back to the stage, flustered but excited.

Jonathan held out a hand and helped her up. She shook on unsteady legs, but her eyes were wide with excitement.

"Can I go again?" she asked breathlessly.

He grinned. "My dear, you can only ask so much of magic!" As he did, the chair suddenly shattered into a hundred pieces behind them—right on cue, of course. "Ah…"

Jonathan scratched his head, playing up the confusion, while the audience leaned forward with bated breath. Murmuring under his breath—which wasn't required for magic at all, but thanks to Hailey, many assumed it was—Jonathan began to assemble the chair in his mind piece by piece, making sure every component of the spell was just right. He'd practiced it a thousand times, if not more, but to do it in a single smooth motion was the real trick.

He had to press the wood shards back together, fuse the fibers again, smooth the edges, and make it look seamless. It had to be perfect.

"And voila!" he cried, throwing forward his hands.

The chair snapped back together. Jonathan had executed it perfectly. The young woman next to him burst into applause, while the audience—only a hundred and fifty or so, but still, he'd filled the theater—burst into applause yet again. Jonathan turned around and took a sweeping bow, basking in the praise, the glory, his accomplishments come to light.

The rest of the show went well. Jonathan didn't slip once, and more importantly, neither did his disguise. When he was done, the fog let him escape backstage with a clap of thunder and a series of dancing lights, as had become his signature. He knew better than to let anyone follow him again. Even the theater staff had no idea where he went, and he never interacted with them beyond the absolute necessities. Still, he drew enough of a crowd to be worth signing, again and again.

Jonathan had worried that magic becoming public would put a dent in his career, but if anything, it was the opposite. Particularly in the weeks since awakenings stopped, Jonathan found interest in his show doubled up, if not even more. People were eager to see magic, and he was all too happy to oblige.

Still… everything else that happened certainly put fear in his steps.

As Jonathan left the building through the emergency side door, he used a tiny spell to hold the emergency alarm lever in place, so it wouldn't trigger. Outside, back in his street clothes once more with his cape hidden underneath a plain dark blue hoodie, dress pants underneath his jeans, Jonathan just looked like a kid wearing bulky clothes.

It was Thursday, December the twenty seventh. Four weeks had passed since the attack on the awakened camp near Rallsburg, the capture of Brian Hendricks and his associates, the blackout zone, and a general quiet fell over the world. Somehow, it seemed like after the most insane November anyone could remember, the Northwest decided it was time for a break.

Jonathan couldn't be happier with that. His whole bus ride home consisted of nervous glances in every direction, praying none of Brian's followers remembered what he looked like, or still had one of those stones. There had been a few suspicious deaths in the area, but since nobody could prove the victims were awakened—the identifying stones didn't work after death—they'd been ruled accidents.

He didn't believe it. He knew both of them were awakened, though to out them would be to out himself. Neither of them were suicidal or clumsy. The war wasn't over… it just went quiet.

The bus driver called out his stop from the front. Jonathan pulled the cord and got to his feet, stumbling a little as the bus braked unexpectedly.

His heartrate quickened—is this something? Do I need to run? What's going on?

Except… nothing. It was only another car, a bad driver cutting off the bus. Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief.

Remember what Julie taught you. Deep breaths. Don't assume the worst. Hold to my strengths.

"Thanks," said Jonathan as he got off. The bus driver waved to him cheerfully—Jonathan had always made sure to keep a good relationship with the man who drove his regular route. For one, he was just a really nice guy and worth talking to, but beyond that, Jonathan wanted to trust everybody on his path back home—back to safety.

I hope it's safe, anyway…

He trudged through the evening rain in the dark, one block this way, one block that, until he finally reached the little custom mailbox. His mom decorated it with all her favorite things—mostly fish, he never really got her obsession with fish—and painted in bright colors was their last name.

Waldstein

Wonder if Hailey and Alden ever found out I gave them a fake last name… Even built a whole fake profile. It was for my career. I meant to tell them the truth, but… guess neither of them are gonna see me again.

Hailey, of course, was traveling the country and beyond, helping people wherever she went, playing the hero. Jonathan was honestly a little jealous. If he could, he'd do the same, but he didn't have anything like her power. The fact they'd even met was one of his most treasured memories.

Alden, meanwhile, had moved down to Olympia to be with his sister, who'd been left in a coma. Though somehow the media still hadn't learned it, most of the awakened knew Meg Bensen was the last person to try to awaken. It filtered through the camp and managed to reach one of the private awakened social groups online before the blackout struck.

Since then, Jonathan had sent his condolences to Alden, and received a grateful reply, but otherwise they'd not really conversed. It wasn't that big a deal—they'd really only met a few times—but Jonathan felt bad for the guy. They were the same age, they were both relatively new to magic, and it had struck his sister in the worst possible way. He couldn't imagine how Alden's family was dealing with it.

"Hey Mom," called Jonathan as he walked in the front door and rubbed his shoes on the welcome mat, "hey Da—"

He cut off. His mother Abigail—or Abby, to friends and family—came around the corner with a fresh load of laundry in her arms. At Jonathan's slip, her eyes softened just a little. She forced a smile. "Welcome home. How was your gaming night?"

"Pretty good," said Jonathan. I should tell her... Julie thought I should. I just… I can't. Not while we're still dealing with… everything else. "What's dinner?"

"Well, I'm not really hungry yet. You in the mood for anything?"

"I think I'll just have leftovers."

"Let me make you something," said Abby, setting the laundry down on the bench nearby. "Take that coat off and hang it to dry, all right?"

"Okay, okay," said Jonathan.

He took the drenched coat off as soon as she walked away, hung it to dry, then rushed upstairs to his room to remove the rest of his theater outfit. By the time he'd come back to the kitchen, Abby was already well into making him a sandwich using some of the challah she'd made a few days prior. She waved at him as he walked in, half-obscured by the wispy menorah candles, gesturing toward the table.

"So," she started, finally speaking more seriously as Jonathan began to dig in. It was delicious, as expected. "You're halfway through senior year. Isn't it time to start thinking about next steps?"

Jonathan shrugged noncommittally. "I'm already thinking about them."

"So what's the idea?"

That my career's already started. "I'm looking at a couple schools."

"Still sticking to theater, or do you want to branch out?"

"I dunno."

Abby sighed goodnaturedly. "Honestly, why is it so hard to get a straight answer out of this generation?"

"Well, I thought I had an idea, but the world keeps changing on me," said Jonathan.

"Clear your mouth before you speak."

He did, and took a sip of water before he went on. "I'm still figuring it out. I don't know exactly what I want to do yet."

"College is a great place to start doing that, you know."

"Not really," said Jonathan with another shrug. "If I really want to do theater, that's kind of a specialty thing. I can't just go to a tech school but want to do theater. I gotta know something first."

"Sometimes we can't know everything in advance," said Abby—and Jonathan really felt the undercurrent of tension in her words. He'd tensed up too, though he suspected for a very different reason. "Life's always going to throw curveballs at you, Jonathan. You can't wait for an easy pitch that might never come."

"I know," he said glumly, finishing off the sandwich. "I just..."

They both trailed off. An awkward, uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Abby was staring into space, her eyes twitching slightly as she tried to process her emotions. Jonathan knew what she was going through, even as he dealt with his problems in his own head.

"Think on it, okay?" Abby gave him a hug from behind, which did do a lot for his mental state. "If you need to, you can always just attend community college for a year before committing to anything. We'll support you."

"...Thanks, mom."

"Are you coming to shul tomorrow?" she asked as she stood up.

"I've got my support group on Fridays, remember?"

"...Oh, right."

He stood up. "I'm gonna go upstairs now."

Abby nodded. Jonathan gave his mother a kiss on the cheek, cleaned up his plate and went upstairs. He needed some time to think, especially after the uncomfortable pauses and silence of that conversation. Jonathan loved her without question, unconditionally, but… sometimes they just weren't quite on the same wavelength.

As soon as he was in his room with the door shut, Jonathan flipped open his laptop and laid back on his bed. He needed space, but Jonathan wasn't really the type to be alone. People were always better than no people—except when they were trying to kill him, of course.

To his relief, she was online. He pressed call.

"Hey you." Jonathan smiled as soon as her face popped onscreen.

"Hey you," said Nell. She was distracted by something clearly, and as she leaned back, he saw a controller in her hands.

"What are you playing?"

"Something you hate," she smirked. "What's going on?"

"Just got home."

"How was the show?"

Jonathan sighed. "Went perfectly. Didn't even get tired this time. No fatigue at all."

"So you're getting better." Nell slammed a few buttons harder than she needed to, violently jerking her controller. She was one of those, but even so, she still played better than he did. "Got him."

"Still scary though," Jonathan muttered.

Nell immediately paused the game and turned to him. Her expression softened. "Dude, if you're scared, that's normal. You nearly died like three times."

"Yeah…"

"Do you want to stop?"

Jonathan shook his head. "I don't know what else I'd do."

"...That's not exactly the best reason to keep going," said Nell, rolling her eyes. "I'm on your side, man, but you better be committed to this. If magic's not what you really want to do with your life, is it worth risking your life for it? Maybe it's time to give it a break."

"That's easy for you to say," said Jonathan, his temper rising. "You can't even do magic."

Nell sighed. "You're in a bad place, so I'm not gonna hold that against you, but not cool, Jonathan."

"I'm sorry," he said, though he couldn't put enough sincerity into it.

"Look, you've had a rough summer, a crazy fall, and now it's been a painful winter on top of it," said Nell. "I still like you, but you've gotta find a way to deal with all this buildup."

"Yeah…"

"Are you still seeing Julie?"

Jonathan shook his head. "I stopped after…" He trailed off. Nell didn't need him to explain; she knew everything about his life, even down to his encounters with Hailey, with Alden, with Jeremy and all the others.

It helped that she didn't even live in the same state as him.

Nell nodded slowly. "I think it's worth more sessions. I'll help pay for them, if you still don't want your parents to know."

"I can afford it." Jonathan smiled slightly. "I'm getting bigger advances and ticket royalties now."

"Oh, Mr. Moneybags with the theater cash?" Nell grinned. "Congrats, dude."

"I'll… I'll start seeing her again," said Jonathan slowly. "I just gotta find a time to put it in my schedule."

She's only available Monday to Friday, and I've still got school after break ends, plus my evening shows, plus the support group on Fridays, and I still want time to talk to Nell, plus there's my friends… it's just too much.

"You awake over there?" asked Nell, peeking at the screen. Jonathan realized he'd zone out, and at some point his new laptop went to sleep—he'd left the default idle setting on way too low.

"Yeah." Jonathan changed the settings and grabbed his own controller. "Can we just play something for a while?"

"Sure," said Nell, and to Jonathan's relief, they didn't say another word about his family or magic the rest of the night.