They have watched the tricks made from their own desire to see, but this is what they have been waiting for. From the spotlight, the darkness crawls close, sliding feathery hot across their faces. They sit in anticipation, but the magician will go no faster, will make no haste. The single spotlight turns to two, and the beacons color and turn. A voice drifts over them like an old record, soft and lulling, ignoring their restless hearts. Beneath the curtain of darkness, the room shapes and reforms.
And explodes, like a red-hot star. It's everything they've ever wanted. It feels like happiness should. Lovely. Soft. Selfish.
He has suspended disbelief for them. His hands overflow with their dreams.