Hershel Layton's seat in the theatre was in the very back of the mezzanine in the very center. It was a very lucky seat to him and in one of his most favorite old venues.
Being in the Ellestrand Theatre brought back all too many fond memories to the now retired performer. After all, his older brother and he had often visited when they were but kids as they often went to see magicians, dancers and the occasional traveling opera rehearse in the grand building. Perhaps it was then at his young age when his love of performing first blossomed. He loved the fuss and chaos backstage. He loved the feel of an audience watching him dazzle them.
At one time, he and his brother had even found themselves doing their own act in this magnificent and regal theatre.
But his time in the spotlight was over. What brought him back to the Ellestrand was not the show life calling for him, but a friend. A very good friend.
The theatre started to fill up fast as it began to buzz with the excited noise of the audience waiting with anticipation for the show to begin. Hershel used to live for this excitement, this thrill. Now he was content with just contributing to the applause.
He was all too joyed to see the curtains rise to even notice someone take the seat beside him.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Now introducing the one and only... Randall Ascot!"
The theatre practically burst with clapping and the occasional yelp or whistle. Yet the stage remained bare except for a small gold relic that lay right in the center of the stage. A mask? Even the stagehands seemed to be confused as to where the performer was.
"Er... Mr. Ascot?" The announcer inquired, only for the mask to erupt with vibrant purple smoke.
Amidst the clouds of smoke, a figure dressed in an all white suit stepped out. His bright and wild red hair and signature glasses were immediately recognizable. The man wore a grin that seemed like he was completely at ease and very pleased with the entrance. It was just like Randall to want to go all out. He always wanted his performances to be memorable for everyone, even for his own help. He hadn't changed much since they were students together.
"Good evening, London!" His voice rang out through the hall. Something about hearing him speak again made Hershel's heart swell, as he truly did miss him. "I don't suppose you're all here to see a magic show, are you?"
The show was truly one of Randall's best and Hershel knew it would be one the critics would be all abuzz about. He found his way backstage, knocking on the dressing room door. It swung open immediately, a blond woman looking up at him. He recognized her as his old friend and one of Randall's assistants, Angela.
"Hershel?" She tilted her head, her eyes widening.
The redhead spun around, perking up like he was some kind of puppy. Hershel braced himself as his friends rushed over to embrace him. Their embrace was warm and truly reminded him of home. He let them do it for some time before pulling away.
"Hersh! I thought you were staying away from this kind of stuff!" Randall seemed ecstatic, despite the fatigue he should've felt after his rather rigorous act.
"I guess I don't always keep my promises."
"Well, I-"
"Randall, this was left outside for you." The magician was interrupted by his other assistant, Henry, coming in with a silver case in his hand. Randall seemed to react strangely to its arrival, seeming fidgety as the warm mood disappeared. Did it mean something to him?
"Hershel, it's very good to see you again." His voice became hushed as he seemed to urge him out the door. "I'm afraid I have some business to attend to."