Prison cells did not offer the luxury of freedom or rights of everyday life. But they did grant one the benefit of unlimited introspection.
Roger Retinz lay in his prison cell, with his thoughts and the monotonous day ahead the only things to accompany him. In a pang of boredom, his mind began to shift to pondering about happier times, then gradually, to the events and past actions that led him to here, partly as an escape to this wretched life as a jailbird and for the sake of introspection.
In my crusade against Troupe Gramarye, where did I go wrong? was the question. Of course, the question wasn't new to the man; it had popped up once or twice while he was plotting the demise of the Troupe's successor, but on those occasions, he dispelled them without much thought. But now, after reflecting on the situation for some time now, perhaps he had made a grand blunder somewhere, something that led to him spiraling further and further down into the darkness he was once cautious of, before murdering his apprentice in the twisted resolution of this wicked scheme.
Sometime after Roger was convicted of the murder of his apprentice, he had come to a realization: the only member of the Troupe that was deserving of his animosity was Magnifi. The rest of Troupe Gramarye were ordinary, if a bit condescending, individuals who did try their best to guide the young Mr. Reus forward, even if their attempts were more than often dangerous enough for Magnifi to start strictly regulating them.
Reminiscing on those times were both a pleasure and a pain to re-experience. They were Roger's golden days; the days where he was seen as a well-respected figure in the stage magic community, the thrill of performing death-defying tricks such as escaping from a locked cage midair and catching bullets in his teeth, and when it was all over, the success of being selected as a member of the prestigious Troupe Gramarye. On the other hand, it made it all the more damaging when he was summoned by the leader of the Troupe himself, was lectured about the importance of abiding by a superior's warnings, and was summarily fired and kicked out of the group in a matter of seconds.
For a man as ambitious as Roger, there were two options with dealing with failure: to suck it up and start anew, or stay anchored to the sources of their failure and swearing revenge for the rest of their lives. Roger took the second option, of course.
The sounds of a prison guard's footsteps quickly shook Roger out of his trance. As the guard turned to face the convict, the former's features began to relax. It was Smith Tenfan, better known to the prisoners as a fan of Roger's TV programs. Roger thanked his lucky stars for having such a person employed here, as it meant getting special treatment from the man, as well as other benefits. More than once had Smith bailed him out of trouble or had certain items smuggled through the prison's security system, so much so that other convicts wanted in on their secret.
Smith, however, did not seem to be himself today. There was no greeting between the two men, and certainly, none of the admiration Smith seemed to get from merely being in Roger's presence. His tone of voice only served to confirm how he was doing at the time.
"Roger Retinz, you have a visitor. Please proceed to the visiting room."
His face told nothing, but the former TV producer felt a slight pang of confusion as he arose from his bed. An attempt to appeal to the man - via flashing his signature smile and an attempt to engage in chit-chat - was unsuccessful. As the two began to walk down the hallway, Roger decided to drop the indirectness and get straight to the point of the matter.
"C'mon Smith, what's the matter today? You're not like yourself, y'know. Something happen with the warden?"
Smith didn't bother to look back, only managing a snort as he began to tense up. "'Something happen with the warden'? You bet something happened with him. He somehow managed to uncover that secret route I took to get you your goods, man. Gave me one hell of a lecture and told me he could expect a salary review to come up at the end of the week."
Roger could care less about what happened within Smith's personal life. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but pity the man, and his soon-to-be-cut salary. At the very least, he could try to offer his condolences to him.
"Sorry to hear that. I understand that you have a wife and a kid to take care of, so…"
Once full of snappy remarks, Roger's mind soon turned blank, having realized that he was no expert in discussing personal topics with one, no matter how many cheesy romcoms or dramedies he had produced for Take-2 TV. An indecipherable curse soon came out of Smith's mouth.
They soon reached the visiting room, and Smith returned to stand guard near the door. Soon afterward, the visitor arrived.
The visitor's attire was nothing to take note of; she wore a plain violet T-shirt alongside a pair of jeans. A couple of other details were present, such as her footwear and the conspicuous pendant around her neck, but what truly caught Roger's attention were the purple tufts of hair and red eyes of one of his former associates.
It was Bonny de Famme. Or one of the de Fammes, but the shy look on her face and the unsteady way she approached the convict made it clear which one of the twins she was.
A hint of resentment began to well up inside of Roger. What was she here to do? Mock him? Gloat about how well she was doing with Trucy? Logical reasoning said otherwise, but the more pessimistic of the man managed to take control for a brief moment.
A mirthless smirk formed on Roger's face as Bonny approached the glass pane. It had long become a habit of him, originating from his days of being the Troupe's newest recruit.
"Well well, look who decided to show up here."
"Hello… Mr. Retinz." A hint of uncertainty managed to creep its way into Bonny's voice, but it was more confident than what Roger had anticipated. He raised an eyebrow at that, interested in where the additional confidence came from.
"Hey there, bunny. What's changed? You weren't like this the last time a year ago. Did Trucy kick some sense into you?"
"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't call me 'bunny'. I've… moved on from using that nickname, and it brings back bad memories."
A sore spot was clearly targeted, judging from Bonny's downcast expression. Once a sensitive girl, always a sensitive girl, thought Roger. He opted to ignore it and continued.
"Let's get straight to the point. Why are you here, and what do you want with me? Lemme guess: you're here to rub your success in my face, isn't that right?"
Shock quickly ran over Bonny's face while she quickly raised a hand to her mouth. One thing was certain: no matter how much different the young woman seemed to be, she still retained her ability to be easily surprised. As well as her shy, polite demeanor.
"N-no! I didn't come to laugh at you! I would never dream of such a thing!"
And easy enough to rattle as well. Roger's smirk widened. Some things never change, after all.
Roger's stature began to slack as he adopted a more relaxed position. No matter how much Bonny acted like a changed woman, Roger could see through it all. She was still the meek, timid young girl he had hired a year ago to sabotage Trucy's grand debut. It would be easy to get the upper foot in this matter; he just needed to play his cards right and watch everything come into place.
"So, how's life under Trucy? Is it the dream life you've always said it would be?"
As if on cue, Bonny's face immediately lit up. A smile, growing broader by the second, made itself clear rather quickly. "Ah! Well, its been excellent, actually. Trucy is such a good mentor, she's kind, understanding, helpful, talented, amazing…"
Bonny continued with her praise-laden speech about how much of a wonderful person Trucy was, but the rest of her tangent was soon tuned out by the prisoner, who felt that his soul was gradually seeping out of his body. A glance at Smith revealed that he had fallen asleep at some point, much to Roger's envy.
When Bonny ran out of compliments to give, Roger was close to dozing off himself. It took a realization that no, hours hadn't passed by and the speech wasn't very long either that gave him the motivation to drag himself out of his drowsiness.
Bonny was the first to respond, her face turning red soon after she was done talking. "Ach! I-I'm so sorry! I didn't what got into me and I couldn't stop talking an-"
The convict cut off the young woman before she had a chance to continue. "Yeah, that's cool and all, but don't start spouting out nonsense like that again."
There was a length of time before Bonny spoke up again. When she did, Roger noticed that her expression was more somber than usual, and that her eyes were looking at the floor.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask you, however. Something… that only you can answer."
Roger raised an eyebrow. "Ask away. I have all the time in the world, in any case."
Bonny took a deep breath before continuing on. From the corner of his eye, Roger noted that her fists were clenched as well.
"Taking Manov Mistree's life just to spite Trucy… is that all you really wanted?"
Not even the slightest hint of change crossed the man's face, but he would be lying if said he wasn't the least bit surprised by the directness of the question. And that the question itself was an anomaly in itself. He had given the answer in court already. Why pursue the matter further?
"I already said as much in court. What else could you want?"
"That's not true."
Whatever slack was left in Roger's body was gone by now. He couldn't tell whether Bonny was messing with him or was dead serious, and he wasn't much for playing the guessing game. Especially not with someone like his former associate, who was rather difficult to predict what was going inside her mind at times. It made her a pain at times, and Roger paid dearly for that with her case-breaking flub-up.
Regardless, Roger kept up his casual tone of voice. "What are you trying to say, bunny? There was nothing left to hide, anyway. If you think I'm hiding something, then where's your proof, hm?"
"Betty told me everything. She snuck into your office sometime before Trucy's big show and said that you were planning to publicly expose all the wrongdoings of Troupe Gramarye after Trucy had been convicted for murder."
"She did what-" Roger stammered, his easygoing facade shattered in an instant. It was enough for Bonny to cease talking for a bit, and for Smith to start watching the two under scrutiny.
"But of course. I knew someone had snooped through my belongings just before the preparations had started, but I hadn't any evidence to confirm who was the perpetrator. However, now that you've confessed that it was your sister who did it…"
"I-I didn't know what to do!" The magician's voice was now weak and fearful, harkening back to the days where she lived in fear of her elder sister's wrath. "If I t-told you about it, you'd fire Betty and have charges pressed against her for trespassing! I just wanted to protect her! I swear!"
"And despite knowing the full details of what would happen to her, you didn't think of warning her of what was to come?" Roger said, his voice now containing something of a mix between sneering and contempt. "Some assistant you are."
"I knew what you would do to me, to Betty if I told Trucy everything. You would fire us in an instant and then paint us as horrible people and become treated like criminals for going along with your plan… just thinking about it makes me tear up. I still feel guilty for not doing anything at the time…"
Throughout the stream of confessions, Roger remained unfazed. He crossed his arms before speaking. "Hmph. You're much more spirited than you let yourself on, I'll give you that. And for whats it worth, everything you said about wanting to expose the Gramarye's dirty laundry was true."
It's a compliment, I guess. Bonny diverted her eyes from Roger, as if she were ashamed of receiving praise from her former employer. She had always been eager to get compliments - be it from her sister, from Trucy, or anyone else, really, - but getting one from a man in jail placed a sour taste in her mouth.
The sound of Roger's voice quickly brought her back to her senses, though. "You haven't revealed the reason behind Betty's trespassing, however."
Bonny shrugged. "I don't know myself. Betty's… like that. Always doing her own thing without anyone knowing better. She would always get mad with me if I asked what she was up to, so I just stopped all together."
Once again, a most tense stillness fell upon the pair. Roger seemed to silently acknowledge Bonny's explanation for those past events. To Bonny, it was nearly suffocating waiting for the convict's next reply. Prisons always possessed an ominous aura to Bonny, and with Roger, that very aura was multiplied whenever he was around.
When Roger finally spoke up, he made a gesture towards the silver pendant that hung around his visitor's neck. On the back was an engraved image of a top hat.
"Where did you get that from, anyway? Looks kinda out of place for some middle-class girl like you."
Bonny's eyes immediately turned to said pendant and grasped it within the palm of her hand. "Oh! This? It's, um, ahh… a gift, actually."
"A gift?" The gears in Roger's mind had started to turn. It didn't take a genius to decipher what a pendant meant to someone, and Roger already suspected that he had deduced where this particular one came from.
From the way the young magician's eyes seemed to glimmer when she examined the pendant, to how her cheeks flushed whenever she talked about it, it was clear that it was from someone who mattered much to Bonny. In a way, Roger was both impressed and unimpressed. Impressed that someone could be so pure-hearted and loving towards someone, and unimpressed that someone could be so naïve as to believe in the concept of true love so easily. Regardless of his distaste for the fantastical concept of 'true love', he continued forward with his inquires.
"Tell me more. Particularly, who gifted it to you."
Wherever Bonny's mind was, Roger's statement seemed to get through to her, as presented by the glint in her eyes suddenly dying out and her sights redirecting to the man.
"Well, it's a long story. I'm not sure you'd like to hear all of it."
"I have all the time in the world. Start talking."
A cursory nod came from the magician. Roger began to mentally prepare himself; it looked like she was going to be in this state for quite some time.
"Well, it all started two months ago…"