THE LESS YOU'LL SEE
NOTES: I cannot stress these points enough, so I will put these at the start of every chapter:
1) This is primarily a Lover's Death story.
2) I do not own anyone (i.e., characters, etc) or anything (i.e., lines, scenes, concepts, etc) from the Now You See Me no copyright infringement intended. I really am just a hopeless fan girl refreshing my feed for more stories about Lover's Death and Hermit+Priestess (daily, twice a day, might I add).
3) Some events in this story are inspired by my own experiences, and should you see yourself in the story, then let me give you a high five, but that honestly was not my intention.
4) Should anyone be willing to beta read the magic technicalities in future chapters, then raise your hand so we can talk. And can more of you please share awesome Lover's Death and Hermit+Priestess stories? We would all love that.
September 2006: The Showman and The Sleight
Wherever they were, the next months were just… full of magic.
They were called The Showman and The Sleight, filling the gaps between classes with amazing tricks that wowed their classmates. Daniel and Jack were pretty much inseparable, meeting well before and staying way after class to practice the craft that was both their lover and mistress.
Their classmates knew it was a strange friendship that only made sense to the two: Daniel was withdrawn, guarded, with little to no words directed to anyone else but Jack, whereas Jack was warm, open, and basically the Everyman everybody loved.
Jack should have known it was only a matter of time before someone got an idea that basically turned into a rumor that everyone maintained was fact. Not that he minded, since he knew he and Danny really were just pals – neither of them were interested in boys, of course not, that never happened and that never will…
"Okay, you're either thinking long and hard about something, or you've got something long and hard about to come out of you," came a sneering voice from above him, "But either way, I'm sensing some real tension here. Pun intended on that long and hard thing, by the way."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Go take a crap, Merritt."
"No can do, not when there's so much to see here, Jack-o." Merritt McKinney adjusted his hat by the rim and peered into Jack's eyes. Jack stopped himself from shifting uncomfortably, unwilling to give anything away to the psychology major in front of him. No one annoying should be that talented. Merritt smiled lightly. "Yup, it's there, you've got some real tension to share and resolve with Atlas."
Jack groaned, resenting the fact that despite Merritt was probably just two years older than himself, he never failed to feel like one of his uncles had gotten obnoxiously drunk and was embarrassing him to no end during the annual Wilder Christmas reunion. "Why don't you just teach the class and put something useful in our heads like you're supposed to instead of trying to unsuccessfully get something useless from people's heads, Mer?" he snapped.
"Oh, someone's getting a little tense," Merritt teased. "Should I call Danny to help you out with that?"
"Merritt, I swear to God, if you even so much as think of Danny as—"
"You guys talking about my ass? That's pretty rude," came Daniel's teasing voice.
Jack rolled his eyes. "No, the great mentalist here is insinuating that you and I are well on our way to doing the dirty. If that isn't the most ridiculous thing you've heard, yeah?"
Merritt was pretty good at what he did, and he prided himself of being able to detect the slightest tics that people would often overlook: the smirking Jack was completely oblivious to the fleeting look of pain that slipped through the cracks of his friend's stony face before it broke into a cold smile.
"Yeah, Merritt, are you high or something?" Daniel said without much humor, looking at Merritt with carefully hooded eyes that almost betrayed nothing, even to Merritt. Almost.
Something in Daniel's blue eyes told Merritt to stop right where he was, and so to save face (though not his own), Merritt smirked and shrugged indifferently. "Well, I tried to get your attention to segue into a full account of how horribly written both your last essays were. You're kind of insulting my intelligence here, guys."
"Yeah, there was some of that to insult? I'm shocked."
They were down to the last few days of class. Senior year was barely a week away, and Jack could not believe just how much his last real summer had flown by from the time he met Danny. They didn't even spare each other a proper goodbye on their last day, instead parting ways like how they did every day, with a simple "See you, man," and "Bye, Jack," – like he would see Danny again the next day, when really, he had absolutely no idea where his friend lived. Funny how they never actually got around to asking about those little details.
Some tiny part of Jack, whether he liked to admit it or not, was filled with rainbow dreams that he and Danny would be friends for life. He had never clicked with anyone as quickly and as easily as he did with J. Daniel Atlas: it was as if they were meant to be friends, two guys taking in magic as their lovers, and sharing her every day with each other. They were sort of like an inexplicable threesome of sorts. He chuckled at the thought, one he thought crossed only little girls' minds as they pinky-promised each other with friendship bracelets that would last a grand total of six days (minus of course all those bits about lovers and threesomes).
He tried texting him, too, once in a while. It felt unnatural, though – Danny's direct replies to Jack's very scripted questions – and the mobile conversations fizzled out as easily as flash paper. Eventually, Jack Wilder came to accept that Danny Atlas would only ever be that best friend that never was, except for a summer. The words "summer fling" crept into his mind, but he shook his head and chased the stray thought away. That was done. Time to get to work.
J. Daniel Atlas has had serious control issues from the time he was old enough to figure out he could move on his own. To say that he disliked spontaneity and the unexpected was an understatement that upset him to no end.
Jack Wilder was exactly that: an unexpected factor, a spontaneously combusting supernova in his carefully planned universe that was only just beginning to right itself after he and Henley fell apart (although, on hindsight, maybe he and Henley fell apart for an entirely different reason, and it took a certain smirk and dark hair to make him even consider it). He was just supposed to spend two months in New York, taking a summer class just because he was bored, and anyway, he probably wouldn't survive a street show in New York. He never signed up to know everything there was to know about Jack Wilder, purely from an acquaintance's standpoint, of course.
He knew Jack was set to graduate next spring, just like him, halfway across the continent. He knew Jack was single, and straight as a rod, never having dated anything else but girls (and a sizeable population from his school, no less than a third at least).
He had to admit to himself that Jack's offhand comment about Merritt's insinuation had hit him pretty hard. It was frustrating how easily and quickly he had taken to liking Jack Wilder, despite the fact that he had never actually had interest in boys. Luckily, Daniel was well-practiced at keeping his poker face locked down, and he was fairly certain he gave nothing away that day.
He did, however, decide to continue giving nothing away, and so on their very last day, he willed himself to say goodbye to Jack in the most usual of ways, like it was just another day, and they would see each other the next day. Chances are – or Daniel rather hoped – they never would have to again, anyway. At least that's what he was trying to convince himself he did.
To no living soul would J. Daniel Atlas ever admit that he wished he knew the right things to say in response to all the friendly messages Jack had sent him since they had parted ways. When it came to social interactions, to friendships, to relationships – he simply had no idea what to do. It never even crossed his mind to share to Jack that – oh, he didn't know – he lived in Los Angeles.
He told himself the thought caused him no pain at all.