Beautiful Illusion (6 page)

H
oly shit
.

I splashed water on my face and looked up at the mirror in the Women’s bathroom.

I never thought I’d see Enigma again, and he was the last person I ever expected would be sitting the conference room when I went to work that day. My heart was still pounding and my ears were burning from the tension that was in that room.

I didn’t even know why. It’s not like I did anything particularly bad to him. Girls shrug guys off all the time in the club, so why was that one time any different?

Maybe it was the fact that he looked completely changed that morning, dressed in perfectly fitted black slacks and an ironed dress shirt tucked neatly into a tight waistband. He still gave off his same Enigma style, but something about him was much more professional. A lot more like a man, a lot less like the playboy that he appeared to be at McMillan.

And he shaved.

Damn he looked good when he shaved.

I couldn’t stop staring at his smoothed lips when he talked. They looked so soft in contrast to his hard, chiseled face. If I hadn’t seen him that night at the nightclub, I would have assumed he was the sexy CEO of some big Wall Street firm.

Or maybe it was his name. Seeing the words ‘Nick Campbell’ written on his legal forms suddenly made him seem real. It made him seem more concrete, not like that fictitious Enigma bullshit.

But I knew he wasn’t a serious guy; he was a magician. A magician that had come far enough that now he would be doing shows, but still… he was just a magician. And that sounded ridiculous.

I wasn’t particularly looking forward to marketing the show now that I knew who was involved, but I needed to keep my personal and work life separate. I had every intention of making sure that Flutterfly Promotions delivered on every project no matter what.

“Angel!”

I jumped when someone entered the woman’s bathroom. It was Colleen, a new hire who had been working for the company just a couple months now. She flicked a strand of her sandy brown hair behind her ear as she approached me.

“Who was that hot guy here this morning?”

I yanked a thick, brown paper towel from the holder hanging on the wall and began to dry the remnants of water off of my face and hands. “He’s one of our clients. We’ll be promoting a magic show for him.”

“Magic show?”

“Yeah, he’s an illusionist.”

“Oh my god, that is so cool,” she squealed. “Have you already assigned a team to that project? If possible, can you please put me on it? He is sooooooo dreamy.”

I could barely hold in my annoyance. Was I the only one who could see through his shit?

I
walked
across the wooden planks and placed my hand on the large, glass capsule that was dominating the center stage. The capsule, filled with water, was beautiful and frightening all at the same time.

In magic, there’s one thing that sets a boring magician apart from an incredible illusionist. A typical magician does card tricks, mind freaks, and silly things like breaking people in two and putting them back together. An illusionist does some of that too, but everyone knows what a magician does is isn’t real. An illusionist on the other hand mixes the unreal with reality. Perform a grandeur feat of physical endurance or dexterity that can’t be faked, and suddenly all those card tricks and mind freaks seem a whole lot more genuine.

And that’s what I planned to do.

I had been training for years to hold my breath for a long time, and my personal best time was 12 and a half minutes. Most people can’t hold their breath for more than a minute, and even people with high lung capacities and mental will can only go 5 minutes or so. 12 minutes was something only a few people who trained diligently and were able to really put mind over matter could do.

But for the show, I was going for 15.

And my hands would be chained.

I was pretty sure that I could go 15 minutes if I put my mind to it, but the chaining added another dimension to the whole thing. It would require me to move my hands, use up energy and expend oxygen to get out. And when you’re deprived of air for that long, you risk blacking out at any time.

But this was my show—my first show. And it was my dream. I wanted the people who watched my show to go home and think that they had seen something extraordinary.

I lifted one of the thick chains that was sitting on a table beside the capsule. “I only want you to unlock it after 15 minutes,” I said. “Even if I look like I might pass out, do not unlock it until 15 minutes, and once 15 minutes hits, you only have a few seconds to unlock the lid and pull me out.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Mikayla, a short, Latina girl with thick, wavy hair and dark eyes replied. Lee helped me find her and two other young girls to work as my assistants during the show. “Is there a safe word or a safe signal or something. In case something goes wrong?”

“Let’s plan on me not needed to use a signal, but if I feel something is wrong, I’ll tap my knee three times.”

The sound of heels clanking on the wood planks of the stage rattled through the Event Center, and Angel appeared from behind the curtain.

“Oh, that thing is huge,” she said as she approached.

I gave a simple tilt of my chin. The tension between us had died down a bit over the past few days, but I still had a bit of resentment buried inside.

“What is this? A dunking tank?”

“Something like that. But it has a custom lid that’s lockable with these chains.”

“And what are you going to do with it exactly?”

“For my final trick, I’m going to be locked inside, underwater, with my hands chained for 15 minutes. After 15 minutes, Mikayla is going to open the lid and pull me out, but not until I’ve freed myself from the chains around my wrists.”

“15 minutes without breathing?”

“Yeah...”

“And how do you do that trick?”

“It’s not a trick. It requires a lot of training, meditation and mind over matter.”

“No trick?” Her eyes were doubtful.

“This one is 100% real.”

“Is it safe?”

“Not at all.”

Angel let out a big sigh. “Look, if it’s an illusion, then cut the shit and tell me. Because if it’s real, I’m going to have to have a doctor on standby.”

“I’ve already got that taken care of.”

Her chin dropped. “So it really is real?”

I chuckled. “I guess this is… What did you call it? A stunt. A very real stunt.”

I dropped the chain in my hand and took a few steps backward to look at the large sign that hung over the stage:

Nick Campbell’s Impossible Reality

The deep red, block lettering was written in a way that made it look dark and foreboding.

“I like what you did with the place,” I said. “The sign looks amazing, and all the props you got for me were spot on.”

“And I like that you used your real name. I would’ve thought that your stage name was Enigma.”

“That’s just a nickname I use between friends, and when I’m out on the town. It’s not a part of me like this is. This is who I really am.”

“Well, it seems that there’s a lot about you that I didn’t know, Enigma.”

“And I’m sure there’s a lot about you that I don’t know. And you can call me Nick. If the show goes as well as I’m hoping, Enigma may be a thing of the past.”

I
was running
around like a chicken with its head cut off. The magic show was sold out, and the Event Center was completely packed.

“I want you to start serving the wine as soon as the show begins,” I ordered one of the Event Center’s wait staff. “The newsletter I sent out put a heavy emphasis on the wine, so people will be looking for it right away.”

My company had already done its job; the seats were filled at my $120 price point. But I took on the project like any other Flutterfly job I did. I wanted to make sure that I saw it through to the end and that everyone who showed up due to our promotion got their money’s worth.

Kim was busy stapling together Flutterfly cross-promotion flyers that we planned on handing out to guests when they exited the event. It was a stipulation that we hid in the Enigma’s agreement—which he probably didn’t read through when he signed.

“Have you seen Enigma?” I asked Kim who was standing beside me.

“He’s around here somewhere. Last I saw, he was sitting in the dressing room with his door open, meditating or something.”

I groaned. “We’ve got 5 minutes before the show is due to start. He needs to be up here now.”

“No worries,” Enigma said calmly from behind. He slid up alongside me and turned his head, reminding me of the night when we first met, gracing me with a handsome smile. “I’m right here.”

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Do you need anything else from us or are we good to go?”

Enigma shrugged. “My team will handle everything from here. Just sit back and enjoy the show.” He used the word ‘team’ rather generously. From my understanding, all of his team were people he had literally just hired and trained over the past week.

“Alright.” I turned to Kim. “You can go have a seat once you’re done with the flyers. I’ll hang out backstage to make sure everything goes smoothly over here.”

Enigma chuckled. “You really do go above and beyond for your clients. I can see why you’re so successful.”

“Don’t you mean stiff?” I asked.

“Stiff and successful.” He patted me on the shoulder then slowly walked away towards to a group of his team members with a sly grin on his face.

“I’m telling you,” Kim said, “you missed out that night at McMillan. Enigma seems like such a great guy.”

I was starting to see it too. Over the past week, Enigma had put all of his focus into the magic show, and while we were out doing the promos and setting things up, he was there with us every step of the way, making sure that everything was perfect. Further, I hadn’t seen him mingling with any of the ladies, despite all the female staff members practically throwing themselves at him whenever he walked by.

I watched patiently as the last of the people filed into the arena and the lights were dimmed down. Eventually, it was go-time, and the show started out with one of Enigma’s assistants going center stage and introducing him as Nick Campbell and promising a special show.

Soon Enigma appeared on stage and thanked everyone in the audience for coming out, then moved on to his first trick. He began with simple card tricks, shuffling them expertly, tossing them from hand to hand, and even making them float in the air somehow. He called guests to the stage and had them select cards which he isolated from the deck, duplicated, and pulled from thin air based on whatever scenario he gave them. All of it seemed physically impossible, and even though I couldn’t see how he was doing it, I knew it was an act.

Then he moved to more elaborate tricks. He would have people write on a pad of paper and then subsequently draw on a chalkboard an exact replica of whatever was written. He would write people’s names, ages, guess numbers and do things that made him seem like he could read minds. Again, I was sure that there was some sort of underlying trick to the whole thing, but he did it with such ease that it almost made me feel uneasy.

The crowd ate the whole thing right up, though. It looked real, so whatever he was doing was magical to them.

As the show wound down, he did things that were much crazier. He drank a flaming beverage while he pretended to play cards with one of his assistants, then coughed up a smoking card out of nowhere. He made a girl vanish behind a curtain, and he even made himself levitate 2-3 feet off the ground while an assistant waved a stick below his feet and over his head.

Even standing to the side of the stage at an awkward viewing angle, I couldn’t see how he was doing it all. It really looked like he was bending space and time, whether he was or not.

Then came the finale. The lights were dimmed, and the curtain was closed while the staff rolled the water filled capsule on to the stage. Dramatic music echoed overhead once the the curtain was pulled back, and there were mutters amongst the crowd when they saw the huge device that Enigma intended to submerge himself in.

When Enigma reappeared on stage, I almost caught my breath for a moment. He was shirtless, wearing just a pair of tight fitting boxer briefs and nothing else. Every time he took a step, the sharp curves of his muscles glimmered under the spotlight. I could tell that he was in great shape through his clothes, but I had no idea until then that his body was so defined or that he had the most perfect six-pack sitting atop a strong V.

And then those boxers—well, they didn’t leave much to the imagination. The bulge in the front was huge, and I’m sure that more than a few ladies in the crowd would need to change their panties when they returned home. I knew I would.

One of the assistants handed Nick a mic, and he stepped to the front of the stage, looking down at the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is my final act,” he said calmly into the mic. He took a few steps back towards the capsule and placed his hands on the glass. “Most humans can’t hold their breath for more than 30 seconds, and even the most adept people can’t go more than a few minutes. Tonight, I’m going to attempt to break my own personal record and hold my breath underwater for 15 minutes.” He walked towards a small table that sat beside the capsule and lifted a thick chain that was sitting on top. “And to make things interesting, my hands will be chained, and the top of this capsule will be locked as well. I’ve given instruction to my staff to not unlock this capsule until I’ve reached the 15-minute mark.”

The crowd mumbled.

“What you’re about to see is real. There’s no gimmicks or tricks to this. Either I am able to hold my breath for the allocated time or I fail. And if I fail, I’ll probably black out before the 15 minutes is up.”

Enigma dropped the mic on the stage with a thump that was amplified through the speakers of the Event Center, and then he pulled his hands behind his back.

Mikayla ran on to the stage with keys in her hand, and another assistant scrambled out to pick up the mic.

Enigma looked off into the distance as if he were praying or getting his mind prepared for what was about to happen as the chains rattled and Mikayla wrapped them around his wrist. When the chain was fully wrapped, she sealed them with a thick padlock.

The mumbling in the crowd grew louder, and the dramatic music started up overhead.

Enigma turned and slowly paced up a small, portable staircase that lead to the top of the capsule and then sat himself on the edge with his feet dangling down into the water.

My nerves started running high when I saw him sitting there, ready to dive in. The last thing I wanted was for him to have an accident and die at a show that I was promoting, but at the same time, I had started developing a soft spot for the guy. Seeing all the effort he put into his show and how passionate he was about magic made me
want
him to succeed.

His show that night had been great so far, but the final act was the one that would make him or break him, the act that people would remember, the act that would define
Nick Campbell’s Impossible Reality
.

A projector suddenly fired up and painted the image of a timer that read
‘00:00’
across the backdrop of the stage. Mikayla climbed halfway up the stairs holding a second set of chains, and then Nick nodded to her, took a huge breath of air and dropped to the water below.

The timer on the wall started counting up, and Mikayla rushed to the top capsule, shut the lid and locked Enigma inside before climbing back down.

Mikayla walked backstage in my direction and sat the keys on a table near where I was standing.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I asked her.

“I don’t know,” she replied with a thick Spanish accent. “I’ve never seen a guy do something crazy like this. He’s brave though.”

If I had any doubt that the stunt was real, that all faded when I spoke to Mikayla. The concern in her voice was real, and if anyone knew how all the tricks worked, it would be her, since she had trained as his assistance for the past week.

I looked back out to the stage, and Enigma looked calm. His eyes were closed, and not a muscle on his perfect body was moving. He simply idled there in the water, silently and calmly, and the dramatic music that had been playing overhead had changed to something quainter.

From my angle, I could see a couple of Enigma’s friends sitting out in the crowd—or at least I assumed they were his friends since they were the same two guys that I had seen at McMillan the night we met. Kim and Lee, however, must have been sitting further back in seats that I couldn’t see.

02:00

Two minutes with him underwater seemed like an eternity, and with each passing moment I started to get more and more nervous. Still he hadn’t moved a muscle or even tried to remove his chains. He just sat there calmly. The crowd for the most part had calmed down, enjoying their wine and chattering lightly while the timer continued to increase, waiting for something to happen.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

Dante.

I smiled. All the stress of the event had pushed the fact that I had a hot date with a guy I had been talking to for months to the back of my mind. I turned and walked swiftly towards the restroom so that I could take the call, and when I was pushing in on restroom door, I answered.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dante’s voice crackled. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be there in about an hour. You’re at the Anaheim Event Center right?”

“Yeah, do you want me to meet you somewhere specific?”

“The parking lot is fine. I’ll find you.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

“See you, darling.”

Sweetheart. Darling. Fuck, it had been so long since a man had called me names like that. It still felt a little weird that it was coming from someone that I hadn’t really met, but it still made my tummy turn upside down to hear. I needed it.

“Yes!” I said quietly to myself and bit my bottom lip. Finally, I was going to meet him.

I flicked my phone to my photo albums and took a long stare at the photos of his that I had saved from Dateme.com, falling into a daydream of all the nights I spent with him, all the things we said. Maybe it was only a couple of images that I had, but I could tell he was sexy as hell… Maybe he wasn’t quite as handsome as Enigma, but he was still handsome nonetheless.

And his voice. It was so sophisticated and mature. It didn’t sound like what I’d expect from a 25-year-old, and it just made him seem that much sexier to me.

I closed my photos and looked at the time.
Shit
. I wasn’t even sure long I had been gone. I quickly rushed out the door and ran back to the side of the stage.

10:00

The voices in the crowd had started to pick up, all anticipating the final few minutes of the routine. Still, Enigma hadn’t moved and just floated there, lifeless in the water. His skin seemed like it had changed color, grown more pale—maybe from the lack of oxygen or maybe from his skin absorbing so much water, I wasn’t sure.

I could only imagine what it was like to go so long without a breath of fresh air.

12:00

Finally, Enigma made a move. First his eyes glance up to the clock on the wall, and then his arms started shimmying behind his back, slowly at first and then moving in a frenzy.

“Hell, I need a drink,” I muttered lowly.

“There’s wine in the serving area,” Mikayla said.

“I’m alright. I don’t want miss whatever is about to happen,” I replied.

For the next two minutes, Enigma struggled furiously with the chains behind his back and bubbles were starting to leak out of his mouth. His eyes were wide, and some people in the crowd were beginning to panic.

14:30

Enigma’s face was purple and his face was twisted in fear.

“What the fuck Mikayla? He’s not out of the chains yet.”

Mikaya shook her head from side to side. “I don’t know. All I know is I’m not supposed to unlock the tank until fifteen minutes are up and his hands are undone.”

“Well, you’ve got less than 30 seconds before you’re supposed to unlock him, so get ready.”

Mikayla picked a set of the keys off of the table and swallowed as she sat anxiously at the side of the stage.

My hands were getting clammy.

By the time there were 15 seconds left, the voices in the crowd had grown loud, full, and a few people were looking around, worried that something had gone wrong.

“Is there a signal or something? In case something goes wrong?”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to tap on his knees three times if he’s trapped.”

“Tap on his knees?! That doesn’t make sense! His hands are chained behind his back!”

Mikayla gave me a ditzy ‘I didn’t think of that’ face and I looked back out toward the capsule. The water inside was difficult to see through from the wild, erratic movements that Enigma was making inside, trying desperately to free himself.

“Five…” the crowd said in unison as the clock reached 14:55. I noticed a few people standing with their hands over their mouth because they were certain that the act had failed. “Four… Three…”

Enigma made a hard jerk with his hands, and the chains around his wrist suddenly fell free and to the bottom of the capsule below.