A/N- The response I'm getting for this is amazing! You all make me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside! Super thanks to Annabethwisegirl12, johnmaine (x2), .ivy and km for reviewing!
Chapter Three- Vegas, Baby
One Year Later
Paris, France
Paris was beautiful. The Eiffel Tower, the Champs Elysées, the Arc de Triomphe…and I couldn't go to see any of it. It was exactly two weeks until our first show in Las Vegas, and here, now, in France, we had two days to finish up the final details; details we had spent the last eleven and a half months fine-tuning.
I'd never, ever been a part of something that required such copious amounts of military-like techniques. Everything we were about to do was planned to a T. It was quite simple, when you really thought about it; we trail the French dude and use a few simple hypnosis tricks to persuade him to go to Vegas and see the show.
Yeah, as simple as stealing from a bank. Oh no, wait. We were going to do that too. I asked myself the following question nearly every day: what had I gotten myself into?
"Guys, I'm not sure I really feel comfortable doing this," I muttered, attaching the Bluetooth earpiece and testing that it worked.
"For God's sake, Hunter," Danny said exasperatedly, who was practicing flipping a poker chip with his thumb into his palm. "You've been saying that for the last twelve hours. We get it!"
"Well sooo-rry that I'm not overly comfortable with robbing a bank and pinning it on some French dude we've never met!" I retorted, clenching my fists. A year later, and Danny and I still didn't see eye-to-eye at all. Quite simply, I thought he was a total egotistical dickhead, and he thought I was an annoying childish British girl lost in the big pond of the USA.
"Come on, Hunt, it's not gonna be that bad," Jack said soothingly, placing his hand on my elbow.
Now, Jack. Jack and I certainly saw eye-to-eye. I'd never been as close to anybody in my life as I was to Jack Wilder. He wasn't my boyfriend or anything, more like my total best friend. We'd begun hanging out together at first simply because we were the youngest of the Five Horsemen; Henley and Danny were both in their late-twenties and Merritt was nearing on his late-forties.
When we started out in the group last year, Jack was twenty-two and I was twenty. We had similar interests and really just got on well. I still found him ridiculously hot- how could I not?- but I didn't want to develop any feelings for him and risk jeopardizing our friendship. Of course, then we both got totally and utterly shitfaced on my twenty-first birthday last August and had ended up making out.
It had gotten real awkward the morning after, both of us with stinking hangovers, unable to look each other in the eye, let alone speak. It stayed like that for about three days until I eventually plucked up the courage to talk to him about it. We both agreed it had meant nothing, that it was just a drunken kiss that didn't represent any other feelings for each other whatsoever.
Things between us went back to normal pretty quickly after that, but something had changed in me. I found myself getting butterflies whenever Jack smiled at me or touched me, and my heart swooped whenever we were alone. I wasn't stupid; I knew I had developed a crush on my best friend. Fan-bloody-tastic.
I couldn't tell him, of course I couldn't. It would ruin everything between us. So I kept my mouth shut, and prayed the feelings would go away. They wouldn't. If anything, they were growing stronger. But I pushed them down, crushed them under the self-persuasion that Jack was my best friend, my brother from another mother, and nothing more.
"It is so gonna be that bad!" I told him now, placing my hand over his. "I swear to God, if we get caught in that armoured van then I'm pinning all of this on you!" I jabbed Jack playfully in the chest.
"That's cool, I'll just tell the cops you were the accomplice," he shot back, grabbing my hand and moving my arm across my chest so his arm was around my shoulders and we were in a kind of one-armed hug-type embrace-thingy.
"If that's the case, then I'm just batting my eyelashes at them and looking innocent," I laughed, pouting up at Jack. "How can you arrest this face?"
"Now, if you don't mind me breaking up the violently flattened romantic atmosphere around the two of you," Merritt interrupted dryly. "We should probably be on our way to look out for the French guy, if that's okay with you." Goddamn Merritt and his goddamn mentalism! It had been fun at first, but now it was just getting annoying.
"Is everyone clear on the plan?" Henley checked.
We all made varying noises of 'yes'. "Merritt goes past talking about Vegas on his phone, Danny walks by flipping his chip, Jack and I walk past as a couple discussing our 'vacation' in Vegas in French, then you bump into him, grab his face and stuff to get his measurements, yeah?" I asked, and she nodded. "Okay then. Do I look French enough for this?" I twirled round like a model, showcasing my black and white gingham leggings, black lace shirt, red blazer and red stilettos. "Should I get a beret?"
"I think that's a little obvious," Henley said, but she smiled, adjusting her hat and glasses.
"If you guys are done messing around," Danny said snappishly. "We need to go."
The Paris streets were bustling; almost as busy as New York in the afternoon. I lost count of the amount of Café de Whatevers and La Patisserie du Blah-de-Blahs that I saw after the fourteenth, each one packed to the brim with boyfriends and girlfriends, honeymooners, elderly couples on their anniversary…it made my heart ache. I hadn't had a boyfriend since I was seventeen, not that I was sure he had even counted as a boyfriend since we'd dated for all of a month.
The five of us had been wandering through the streets for a good half hour, and I was beginning to think that we'd missed Mr Etienne Forcier or whatever the hell his name was.
"Guys, I'm getting a bad feeling about this," I said into my earpiece, leaning against the wall on the middle platform of a set of concrete steps where Jack and I were waiting for our cue. "I think we missed the guy."
"You worry too much, Hunter," said Henley from her position at the bottom of the stairs. "This is gonna be fine."
"Wait, wait, wait!" Merritt's voice came through the earpiece. "We got 'im."
"Get in there," Danny's voice crackled in. "We've got five minutes to plant this. Go!"
We all waited a few moments, until Merritt's voice came back through the earpiece, distantly saying, "Viva Las Vegas!" His pretence was that he was on the phone to someone. "Danny, you're up," he said quickly.
"On it," he replied. I looked up from where Jack and I were, as Danny was only four step sets above us. He was walking swiftly, nonchalantly flipping his poker chip up and down in his right hand. Etienne- at least, I'm pretty sure it was Etienne. He was identical to the photo we'd been given- started coming down the stairs as Danny went up them, and I saw him clock the poker chip as he passed.
"That's our cue," I murmured to Jack, who nodded. He wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulders, stroking the top of my arm whilst I put my arm around his waist and looked adoringly up at him.
"Las Vegas était si belle, est-ce pas? Le spectacle de magie était incroyable!" I twittered wistfully when we were about three foot away from Etienne, which meant 'Las Vegas was so beautiful, wasn't it? The magic show was incredible!'
"Oui, c'était génial! Nous devrions revenir pour notre lune de miel," Jack replied, which translated into 'yeah, it was great! We should back go for our honeymoon.' I saw Etienne look back at us as he passed, taking in what we had said.
As soon as we were out of his earshot, I said, "Right, we've done our bit! Henley, it's your turn!" into my earpiece.
"Already on the move," she answered, and sure enough, not too long after that we heard her say, "Oh, pardon moi, monsieur!" followed swiftly by a hushed, "I got his measurements!"
"Regroup back at the hotel!" Danny was quick to order. "We need to get-" I shut my earpiece off and tugged it out of my ear.
"Why'd you do that?" Jack asked, frowning at me as he listened to Danny harping on.
I shrugged. "He was annoying me."
We waited until dark. We'd been given the careful instructions of where the shipment of fresh bank notes was going to be, and what time they were going to be loaded into the armoured van heading for the Credit Republicain de Paris. Just like the mind-plant, this had been planned like a CIA mission.
"Come on, come on, come on!" I begged. "Can we please get this over and done with!? I want to go back to America tomorrow, not be lead to the Paris jail."
"Hunter, seriously, will you shut up?" Danny snapped at me, handing me a syringe filled with chloroform before giving one to Henley. "The only way we'll get caught is if security hear your loud mouth!"
"Danny, seriously," I mocked petulantly. "You are beginning to irritate me now!" I warned, stashing the (sealed) syringe in the pocket of my black jeans and tugging a pair of black gloves on my hands. "So back the hell up before I use this chloroform on you and dump your unconscious arse in the Seine."
"Woah, woah, woah," Jack said to me comfortingly. "Just calm down."
"I'm trying," I replied, breathing heavily in and out of my nose. "Seriously trying. Can't you see I'm trying?!"
"Yeah, you're trying, alright," I heard Danny mutter, so I shot him the finger without looking away from Jack.
"Guys, seriously, we need to do this now," Henley said, gently but firmly. She had opened up the specialised trolley we'd brought and laid down in it, in the middle. I shook my head back, took in another calming-ish breath and slid in next to her left, whilst Danny took the right. Thank God for the slits in the metal, because when Merritt and Jack closed the top of the trolley on us, I started feeling very claustrophobic.
"We'll see you guys in a while," Merritt called through the slats once he and Jack had finished piling the money on top of the trolley. "And Hunter, calm down, you won't run outta air any time soon!"
"Screw you, Merritt!" I shouted, and I heard him and Jack laugh as they quickly vacated the area.
It felt like hours passed; we couldn't move, couldn't talk, could scarcely breathe loudly in case someone came in and busted us. So we waited. To be fair, we were only in there about half an hour before we heard the security team filter in, talking about stuff in French. We couldn't see what they were doing until we felt our trolley being wheeled along the floor, then it was lifted up and practically dumped into the armoured van.
There were two guards in the van with us; the two people Henley and I clearly had to chloroform-inject. I twisted my head as best I could to look at her and Danny, and Danny held up both his hands (well, he raised them about two inches as that was all the space we had) with his fingers splayed to indicate we had to wait ten minutes before Merritt would stop the van and we could take action.
The rhythmic shaking of the van as it drove along was actually soothing. I was fighting not to fall asleep. I had to stifle a yawn pretty quickly or risk blowing everything. My eyes did actually flutter shut, but the van shudder to a pretty abrupt joke, and I snapped awake. I looked at Henley, who nodded, and we both stuck our arms out of the trolley- me to my right, her above her head- and injected the confused passing guards with the chloroform, knocking them out instantly.
"Well that was easier than expected," I observed as we pushed the trolley open, the stacks of money- and the guard that had collapsed on to the pile of money- falling either side, though a couple of cash bundles did fall on us.
"Hey boys!" Henley called as the back doors of the van squeaked open, revealing Merritt in his French traffic cop uniform and Jack, who was wearing a nondescript, unsuspicious ensemble of dark jeans and a black leather jacket. Seeing how uncomfortable Merritt looked in his get-up, I couldn't help but burst out laughing. He scowled.
"Sorry, sorry!" I quickly apologized, attempting to manoeuvre my way into a sitting position but instead I was stuck wriggling around like a turtle on its back. "Oh Christ! Jack, help!" I stuck my hands up and waited for him to grab them and pull me up. There was no time to actually have a proper conversation once I was up and functional, as we had to speedily fill up a ton of holdalls with the three million-plus worth of Euros, then replace the aforementioned Euros with false notes that were stored in the trunk of our rental car.
We all quickly piled into the car, Danny driving with Merritt riding shotgun, then Henley, Jack and I squished into the back. Danny pressed down on the accelerator so fiercely that we literally screeched away from the scene in a totally cliché manner. The force of it jolted us all so violently that Henley and Merritt both headbutted the windows and Jack and I cracked our heads together.
"Son of a bitch!" I muttered, rubbing at my forehead as we sped off into the Paris night. Tomorrow, it was back to America. We had a show to rehearse.
Two weeks later…
Las Vegas, Nevada
"MERRITT MCKINNEY," a booming voice announced over upbeat techno music. Merritt appeared, looking out with a straight face, wearing a black suit and a bowler hat.
"DANIEL ATLAS." Danny's face flashed up; he was also pokerfaced, dressed to the nines in a black and navy dinner jacket, trousers and dark shirt.
"HENLEY REEVES." Next up was Henley, pouting in her black leather dress, high heels, blazer and fingerless gloves.
"JACK WILDER." Jack got his close up. He was smirking, dressed up in black trousers, a black shirt and suspenders.
"HUNTER BLACKWELL." There I was, grinning and flashing a peace sign, rocking a black net dress with a silver sequined top and elaborately decorated sheer heels.
"Arthur Tressler and the MGM Grand proudly presents-" The five of us strode purposely forwards, and Jack threw a playing card that split and spread across the screen, merging back to reveal our logo. "The Five Horsemen!"
It was show time.
I'd made it. I'd finally made it. Here I was, twenty-one years old, actually performing at the MGM Grand stadium in Las Vegas. Back home, I would have been laughed at for ever even contemplating this. But here, standing on the round stage in the middle of thousands of cheering people, it wasn't just a contemplation; it was reality.
"Thank you!" Merritt thanked the shouting crowd. "Tonight we would like to try something that, well, will set us a bit apart!"
"For our final trick," said Henley, pacing the stage. "We're gonna do something never before seen on a Las Vegas stage!"
"Or any stage, for that matter!" added Jack.
"Well, they always say that variety is the spice of life!" I quipped, and the audiences laughed and cheered a bit more. Oh, thank God! New jokes!
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Danny addressed. "Tonight…we are going are going to rob a bank!" Cue badass-sounding techno-bass music kicking in and screaming from the audience. "That's a lot of excitement for a crime!"
"What, you're telling me you're not excited for this, Danny-Boy?" I called to him. "You soulless monster! I'm buzzing like an old fridge!" More laughs, and we all laughed too; well, Danny excluded. He just rolled his eyes at me.
"I'm getting excited!" announced Henley. "What about you people?!" she shouted to the crowd, and there were various whoops and yells of agreement back.
Jack and Merritt began running towards each other on the lower level of the stage, and from where I was, on the raised section, I began to do several front handsprings towards them.
"One, two, three!" we counted, and on three, Jack and Merritt jumped up to high-five. When their hands clapped together, I launched myself from the level via a regular handspring, doing a somersault right over them and landing on my heeled feet. However, I landed a little too forcefully and the heel of my left show snapped clean off.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, was our resident gymnast, Hunter!" Merritt said, so I giggled and curtsied before gaping down at my shoe.
"Oh my God!" I cried, putting on a stereotypical Texan drawl. "I broke a heel! This is so tragic!"
"Well let me help with that," offered Jack, so I did a backflip to kick the shoe off, which landed on the floor at his feet, followed by the heel itself. Jack picked up the heel-less shoe and the dis-attached heel, flashed a grin at me and threw them both up about twenty feet into the air. The heel vanished, and the shoe sailed back down, looking as though it was going to smack Jack directly in the face, but instead he caught it easily with one hand, the heel magically reattached.
"My hero," I laughed, kissing him on the cheek and slipping the shoe back on as the audience went crazy.
"Okay, okay! Now please, please, settle down!" Danny requested the audience. "Now, who here has a bank they would like us to rob?" Practically every hand in the crowd went up, people crying out, "Pick me! Pick me!"
"Wow, that's a lot of people with a vendetta," Danny commented.
"You all hate your banks that much?" I remarked, then put on a thoughtful facial expression. "Stupid question, actually. How we gonna pick this, guys?"
"I guess we'll choose one at random," replied Danny. "My associates will make sure it's random, right?"
"Associates?!" I repeated in mock-outrage. "Daniel Atlas, I thought we were friends!" That cued Danny's second eye roll of the night. Meanwhile, Jack, Henley and Merritt had all collected the containers filled with numbered and lettered ping-pong balls that would 'decide' the seat we chose.
"Elvis," Jack drawled at a stereotypical Vegas Elvis impersonator, holding his container down into the crowd. "Help me out, bud."
"In Jack's bowl are ping-pong balls with section numbers," Danny informed the audience. "Jack, could you hand me a section number?"
Jack hurled a ball at Danny, but I jumped up and caught it with a yell of, "INTERVENTION!", doing a tuck-and-roll when I landed.
"Okay then, Hunter, can you please read me the section number?" Danny asked exasperatedly.
"I sure can," I replied smugly, peering at the ball. "We are looking at Section B. Section B, where you at?!" The uproar to my left informed me where Section B was located.
"Okay, there," said Danny, turning to them. "It's gonna be one of you guys. Get ready." Everyone was still going crazy at the thought of us actually robbing a bank. "I don't know why everybody's happy, it's only them. Merritt, to avoid turning this into a football game, can you please throw a row number at Hunter, please?"
Wordlessly, Merritt threw his ping-pong ball at me. It bounced once before I closed my hands around it. "And we have Row Five!" I revealed, holding up the ball.
"Where is that?" Danny peered into the audience, and the appropriate row started waving their arms around and whooping. "And Henley, could you please give Hunter a random seat number?"
Henley took her ping-pong ball from the member of the audience that had palmed it out of the container and tossed it to me, and I managed to catch it one-handed. "Aaand it's Seat Thirteen!" I declared.
"Ah, lucky number thirteen," said Danny. "B-Five-Thirteen, where are you?" he asked, gesturing alone Row Five until a spotlight came to rest on none other than Mr Etienne Forcier. "Sir, please stand up! Ah, there you are. Hi." Etienne stood up and was handed a microphone. He looked slightly perplexed.
"So, sir, could you please confirm that this is your seat?" I asked him, holding up the ping-pong balls in order. "B-Five-Thirteen, yeah?"
"Yes," he said with a nod.
"Fabulous," I said, throwing the balls up into the air and letting them scatter around the stage, earning me some more laughs. Huh, maybe I could have leant towards being a comedienne.
"Now, could you please tell us your name and the name of your bank?" Danny requested him. Because we obviously had no idea who he was or where he came from. Obviously.
"Well, my name is Etienne Forcier," he replied. "And my bank, it's Credit Republicain de Paris."
"French. Okay, uh," said Danny in trepidation. I'd never realised how good an actor he was before. "We were hoping for something a little more local, a kind of mom-and-pop credit union with no security, but that's fine. A promise is a promise. Could you please come up to the stage and we'll, er, we'll rob your bank." Etienne began to make his way across his row and out of it, struggling past the masses of people.
"And while he does that," Danny continued. "There is someone here tonight without whom we would just be five magicians working the circuit, trying to get…well, actually, trying to get here. You probably know this man, if not from one of the many, many companies he puts his name on. He is our friend, he is our benefactor; Mr Arthur Tressler. Please, stand up Art. Please stand up." The five of us had now all grouped together on the stage as a spotlight shone up on to one of the balconies, revealing the elder yet dapper Arthur Tressler to the audience.
"The only man here with the Queen's cell phone number," joked Merritt as Arthur stood up and regally waved at the audience.
"And, of course, my fellow Brit," I put in with a grin. "Care for a cup of tea, Art?" I heard him laugh heartily.
"Actually, please stay standing, Art," said Danny. "I want to say that when we came to Mr Tressler, we promised that, as a unit, we could become the biggest name in magic."
"So we wanted to say thank you," Henley added warmly. "And by the way, Art, you notice on the sign out front, we made sure we put your name at the top."
"If you turn out to be as good as you think you are, dear girl," Arthur replied. "That won't be necessary much longer."
"Well, my good man," I shot back. "We don't think, we know!"
"And we haven't done our closer yet," Henley interposed. "Why don't you watch it and then you can decide for yourself. Ladies and gentlemen, Arthur Tressler!" she wrapped up, gesturing up at Arthur with a flourish.
"Thank you," said Danny. "And of course, once again, the Cardinal of Clairvoyance, Merritt McKinney." By now, Etienne had already reached the stage and had been talking quietly to Merritt whilst the rest of us had introduced Arthur.
"Etienne, what Jack is bringing to the stage now is what we in the magic world call a teleportation helmet," Merritt informed the Frenchman whilst Jack held up the helmet for all the spectators to see. "You will need to wear this as it will allow you to literally fold through space and time to your bank in the…eighth?" Etienne jerked his head slightly. "Ninth!…arrondissement. Now, once you're there, we will be able to speak with you through this helmet. Now, if…oh!" Merritt paused as Jack slid the helmet on to Etienne's head. He looked, to put it bluntly, ridiculous. "Oh my God, that's beautiful!"
"That is some Chanel-looking stuff right there," I agreed with a giggle whilst the audience laughed around us.
"This helmet has the added attraction of being very stylish," Merritt told him. "It's about time the French learned from America on that subject. Is that a beautiful piece of headgear?" Merritt asked the audience, displaying Etienne to them, who looked vaguely uncomfortable now.
"It is," Danny concurred.
"Thank you, thank you very much!" Etienne thanked the cheering audience.
"Mais oui, mais oui," Merritt joked in a pretty decent French accent.
Henley, Danny and I hurried up the steps to join them all on the upper stage. "But, before you go anywhere," Danny said, stepping in front of Etienne, holding a pack of cards out to him. "Could you please pick a card, any card?" Etienne went to choose one. "Not that card!" Danny cracked a grin. "No, that's just an old American joke. You can take that one."
"Okay. This one," Etienne decided, pulling a card out of the deck.
"Now, show it to your friends in Section B," Danny directed. "But not to us." The five of us turned our backs as Etienne presumably held up the card. "Okay, now, if you could just sign your name there," Danny continued once we turned around. "In English, if possible."
"Um, couldn't that be classed as racist?" I questioned.
"I'm only kidding," Danny said irately whilst Etienne scribbled his name down on the card.
"That's good," Merritt said to Etienne.
"Put that in your pocket," instructed Danny, and Etienne did just that.
"And now for one tiny detail," announced Henley. We five each brandished a black silk scarf and threw them into the middle of the stage. But instead of just wafting to the floor, the scarves appeared to take on a life of their own and started swooping and swirling around the stage, bunching together in the middle before disappearing up into the ceiling, revealing a very large, mechanical-looking device.
"Ta daaa!" I sang whilst we applauded.
"Now, Etienne, let's step into this cockamamie contraption," directed Merritt, helping Etienne up on to the device's platform. "Aaand I'll step off it. Bonne chance." Jack and Danny stepped forward to pull down the net screen of the device, shrouding Etienne. "It's eleven fifty PM here in Vegas. That's eight fifty AM in Paris. Your bank opens in less than ten minutes."
"One," I counted, taking a couple of steps back so I was standing away from the machine and next to Jack.
"Two," said Jack.
"Three!" finished Henley, pressing the teleport button for the device. There was a flash of light, and the contraption snapped shut so violently that the stage almost shook under the force. Everyone gasped in shocked terror, us not the least.
"What the fuck?!" exclaimed Merritt.
"Woah! Etienne?" called Danny.
"Etienne?" Henley also called.
"Holy shit, I think we killed him!" I cried.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like that, was it?" Merritt asked, confused.
"Etienne?" Henley called out again.
"I liked that little French guy…" mused Merritt. "Where'd he go?"
"Hellooo?" I shouted. "Etienne! If you're still breathing, give us a sign!"
The huge screens placed around the stadium suddenly crackled to life, removing our headshots and replacing them with the video feed from Etienne's camera. "Wait, there he is!" pointed out Danny, and the audience cheered, though whether it was for the trick or the fact Etienne was alive, I did not know. "No, no, no, no, please, please, please," Danny shushed them, before speaking into his walkie-talkie connected to Etienne's helmet. "This is Daniel Atlas. Can you hear me? Etienne, are you okay?"
"Yes," Etienne replied, sounding dazed.
"Perfect. What do you see in there?"
"Money." Etienne now sounded totally disbelieving. "Is this real?"
"Yes, looks like three million or so Euros' worth."
"Three point two, actually, but who's counting?" I said, shrugging. Etienne laughed out something nervously in French that I couldn't understand.
"Okay, now here's what we're gonna need you to do," Danny instructed him. "I want you to take the card that you signed out of your pocket, and I want you to take the ticket stub from tonight's show, and I want you to put it right there in the middle of the money." On the video feed, Etienne did so, holding the card and stub above a break in the stack. "Now drop it." Etienne let go of the pieces of paper and they slipped into the centre of the money heap. "Now, on the side of your helmet you should feel a button. Don't press it just yet. That button activates an air duct that connects Paris to Las Vegas." Etienne located the button and put his finger to it. "Okay good, now you can press it."
"Alright, now Etienne, hold on tight," Jack told him. "You might feel a bit of a vacuum!" There was a pause in which absolutely nothing happened. The video feed disconnected, and it was almost silent in the stadium.
"Did it not work?" I frowned. "Oh my God, did he break the air duct?"
"Oh, wait a second!" said Danny, holding up a hand. There was a distant rumbling noise, and suddenly thousands and thousands of Euro notes were drifting down from the ducts above the stadium, landing anywhere and everywhere. The audience jumped to their feet, cheering and desperately trying to grab hold of as much money as they could.
Danny, Henley, Merritt, Jack and I all looked around the room, laughing breathlessly, taking in the sight of the audience stuffing note after note in their pockets. I felt kind of warm on the inside- I think it was pride. The feeling was amazing though; I could barely describe it.
"Thank you, Etienne!" called Danny, waving. "Thank you, everyone!"
"We are The Five Horsemen!" we shouted in unison.
"And good night!" cried Henley, fist-pumping the air.
"Good night!" I yelled, jumping up and down a few times. The five of us grasped hands- Jack at the end, then me, Danny, Merritt and Henley at the other end- and took a bow. We'd done it. We'd really, truly, honestly done it.
A/N- And that is the first show done! I hope you liked my take on Etienne's…mind control? Would you call it that? Oh, I don't know, the Paris scene, anyhoo. You guys are being incredible with the reviews, I would absolutely love it if you kept it going like that! Reviews make me feel so validated! Xx Gee xX
PS- Don't forget to check out my Polyvore collection, the link is on my profile!
PPS- I probably won't update for a good week or so, as starting tomorrow I need to get some serious revision done for my AS Level exams, which start on Monday and carry on till the 20th. Wish me luck!