The theater smelled of velvet and stage dust, and the faint hum of hidden machinery filled the backstage corridors. You were the new assistant for Henley Reeves—magician, illusionist, and absolute perfectionist when it came to her tricks.

You hadn’t even finished unpacking your toolkit when she appeared, all energy and sparkle, eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“First day,” she said, voice a little teasing, a little curious. “You look… promising. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You tried to smile, a mix of nerves and excitement. She handed you a deck of cards and demonstrated a simple sleight of hand: flipping the card into a perfectly balanced fan. Your fingers caught the motion almost immediately, mimicking it without hesitation.

Henley’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait—did you just—?”

You shrugged, pretending it was nothing.

“I didn’t even show you the trick that’s usually impossible to copy after a week of practice,” she said, half-laughing, half-impressed.

“I guess I’m a fast learner,” you replied, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

Henley tilted her head, studying you carefully. “Fast learners are dangerous. Especially if they have nerves of steel—and a little flair for showmanship.”

Over the next hour, you worked together on her illusions. Each time she performed a move, you matched it flawlessly—or even improved slightly. Henley grew quieter, almost intrigued, like she wasn’t used to someone picking up her tricks so easily.

Finally, she leaned back, arms crossed, eyes sparkling with a challenge.

“Alright, Y/N,” she said. “Tomorrow, I’ll teach you something a little more… advanced. But I warn you—most people break under pressure. You ready for that?”

You grinned. “Always.”

Henley laughed softly, a rare, unguarded sound. “Good. I like a challenge. And you… might just be the best assistant I’ve had yet.”