"Thank you! Thank you all very much!"

Such was the routine shout from William as he waved to the ten—maybe twelve—people in the seats before him.

William watched as the bright red curtain closed in front of him, and let out a sigh. A man, roughly forty with a thin black mustache and derby hat, stepped up to him from behind the stage.

"Nice show, kid," he said, slapping the young man on the back with a heavy hand. "You really got something special goin', ya know that?"

William let out a bashful chuckle.

"Well, I'm not so sure if it's that-"

"Nahh, don't even kid yourself, Will. You ought to be proud to be stepping up as a performer, and stickin' to it."

Will brushed the rabbit fur off his hat and tossed it aside. He set it down on the dresser backstage and tidied up his suit and hair.

"I'm certainly happy to be seeing new faces," Will mumbled. "Edgar," he said suddenly, "What is about my act that repels people? I feel like something's missing."

"Everyone does," his agent replied, smoothing out his own hair under his hat. "At some point, the act'll get old."

The young man cringed at the harsh reality, knowing full well that his agent was right. It was in his nature to speak nothing but the truth, after all. Before he could reply, a young lady dressed in a thin, frilly dress ran backstage, breathless.

"Mr. Carter! Oh, Mr. Carter!"

Upon hearing the mention of his name, Will saw the girl's reflection in his mirror and turned to face her. He smiled politely, though the girl was a stranger to him.

"Oh, Mister Carter, I thought your performance was absolutely wonderful!"

The young lady seemed barely able to contain her excitement. William smiled and bowed, as a proper young gentleman would.

"And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?" he asked, taking the girl's hand and kissing it gently. The girl let out a not-so-subtle giggle.

"Such a gentleman," the girl said, face flushing red. "My name is Elizabeth. I've been attending every one of your shows and I think that you're simply marvelous!"

William stood up, his lanky body towering over the girl's.

"I am William Carter—erm, as you know," he replied clumsily. "I'm delighted to meet such a devoted spectator."

Elizabeth's eyes wandered to Edgar, who, in return, eyed her with confusion and then acceptance. The young lady scooted over to William, as though she were trying to come as close to him as she could without touching him.

"I do enjoy your shows, Mr. Carter," she tittered, inching closer. "Maybe we could get together at the club downtown, hm?"

William's face flushed a bright red as the girl leaned up against his shoulder.

"Well, I, uh—I-I'm afraid I'm quite busy," he answered. "Shows and business to attend to. Oh, please don't get upset," he added quickly as the girl's face fell with disappointment. "Perhaps I can afford to visit."

Elizabeth gave the man some semblance of an innocent giggle.

"You're such a sweetheart," she said. "Meet me there at seven, all right?"

"I . . . yes, I will."

The poor man was left baffled as Elizabeth pranced into a circle of giggling women, who led her out of the theater. As the interaction unfolded, Edgar had lit a cigar. William turned to face him again, greeted by a cloud of cigar smoke. The young man let out a cough.

"Touchy broad," Edgar chuckled, shooting a side glance at his client. "Getting real popular with the ladies already?"

"I—I never assumed . . . I mean, it was so unexpected-"

"Hey now, take it easy," the agent chuckled, his cigar hanging from the corner of his lip. "This is good. You're gaining a following, see?"

William furrowed his brow, nodded, and took a breath.

"Of one person, maybe," he mumbled. Edgar raised his eyebrows, making the magician uncomfortable. "Granted, she's a very nice young lady," he stuttered. "I'm only saying, I thought there'd be-"

"Ya thought you'd have throngs of people chasing you down the streets, begging ya to do tricks. These things take time, kiddo."

William, once again, felt defeated by that truth. Of course it took time, but three years? That seemed like plenty of time to gain a proper following. Edgar was never one to sugar-coat things, that was for certain. Perhaps that particular trait was something that the magician needed more of.

"You're right," he mumbled. "You're always right."

Edagr's thin lips curled up into his cheek, forming a familiar smirk.

"What do you say we go together, kid?" he suddenly proposed. "I haven't had any real fun in a while."

William could only think that the absence of fun was his own fault.

"Well, why not?" he said with a shrug.

"That's the spirit," Edgar said, his voice a thick yet pleased growl. "Go home, get yourself cleaned up and ready to go. I'll be there to pick you up at six."

William agreed and bid farewell (for the moment) to his agent. He began to pack his props with a routine tug of guilt at his mind. The hat, the cards, the rabbits—totaling up to seven dollars and a dime. The price had repeated itself in his mind so many times. Nevertheless, William forced the thoughts out of his mind and shoved his things into the wardrobe, and the bunnies into their cage. He'd pay it off soon enough.