Chapter One: Introductions

Milly pushed open the heavy wooden door of The Blockhouse, stepping into the dimly lit bar. The scent of aged whiskey and polished wood filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation from the handful of patrons scattered throughout the space.

At the far end of the bar, Stephanie sat perched on a high stool, as poised as ever. Tonight, she wore a sleek, form-fitting catsuit in a deep, sapphire blue, its material subtly shimmering under the dim lights, a counterpart to the vibrant pink Milly would later wear. It hugged her figure with tailored precision, and a high neck that rose elegantly to her chin.

Her golden-blonde hair was pulled back into a severe, polished bun, and a single silver brooch glinted at her collar. Her legs were crossed neatly, high heels tapping lightly against the footrest of the stool. She exuded the same air of effortless authority as before, as though she belonged in a high-rise boardroom rather than the quiet ambiance of a centuries-old bar.

Milly, on the other hand, had opted for comfort. She wore dark jeans and a loose-fitting grey T-shirt, the fabric soft and worn from use. Her leather jacket hung open, and she had tied her auburn hair back into a casual ponytail, knowing full well she’d be changing soon.

Her boots scuffed lightly against the stone floor as she approached Stephanie, rolling her shoulders with an easy confidence.

Stephanie glanced up from her drink—a short glass filled with something dark and neat—and gave a small, approving nod. “Right on time.”

Milly smirked, sliding onto the stool beside her. “Figured I shouldn’t keep five magicians waiting. Might end up turned into a rabbit or something.”

Stephanie chuckled, swirling the liquid in her glass before setting it down. “I doubt they’d waste their talents on something so pedestrian.” She turned slightly, giving Milly a once-over. “I trust you’re ready?”

Milly stretched, shaking out her arms. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Though I wouldn’t mind knowing which one of them I’m getting cut in half by first.”

Stephanie’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.” She slid gracefully from her stool, her heels clicking softly against the stone floor.

“Come. The first magician is waiting.”

Milly exhaled, letting the excitement build as she followed Stephanie up the winding staircase, leaving the bar behind and stepping into the unknown. As they ascended the staircase, the rhythmic click of Stephanie’s heels echoed against the old wooden steps, a crisp, deliberate sound in the quiet air. Milly followed just behind, trailing her fingers along the worn stone wall beside her.

The air grew cooler as they reached the upstairs level, and when Stephanie pushed open the heavy wooden door at the top, Milly stepped inside and took in her surroundings.

The room was sparse, almost unnervingly so. High ceilings and bare stone walls gave it an open, cavernous feel, though the wooden floor softened the starkness. Dim overhead lights cast a soft glow over the space, but the lack of décor or personal touches made it feel strangely empty, like a stage before the curtains rose. Milly’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the rows of chairs neatly arranged in front of a slightly raised platform. On either side of the central aisle, ten rows of eight seats faced the stage, their dark wooden frames lined with red velvet cushions. It was more seating than she had expected. “Huh. Bigger crowd than I thought,” she mused.

Stephanie nodded, stepping aside to let Milly absorb the space. “This isn’t just for the five magicians,” she explained smoothly. “There are others watching. Patrons, investors, enthusiasts. The kind of people who appreciate true craftsmanship.”

Milly exhaled sharply, smirking. “Right. Because nothing says ‘craftsmanship’ like slicing a girl in half.”

Stephanie merely smiled, gesturing toward a small side door along the back wall. “That will be your changing room. You’ll be using it to change into each outfit before your performances.”

Milly tilted her head. “And while I’m getting ready?”

“The props will be brought out,” Stephanie said, her tone even, efficient. “Each magician will prepare their station. And the five of them will take their seats in the front row.”

Milly’s brow arched. “So, they get a front-row seat to their own competition?”

Stephanie’s lips curved slightly. “Naturally. They’ll be judging each other as much as the audience will.”

Milly huffed a small laugh, glancing toward the stage again. The space felt different now—anticipation creeping into the emptiness, turning it into something charged, waiting. “Alright,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “Guess I’d better get changed.”

Stephanie gave an approving nod. “Indeed. Your first outfit is already inside.”

Milly shot her a wary look before stepping toward the changing room. Whatever was waiting for her there, it was about to be the start of something far stranger than any gig she had taken before. Milly stepped into the changing room, letting the door click shut behind her. It was a bit comfy, she thought—though she was being generous with that assessment. The space was small, more functional than luxurious, but at least it had the essentials. A well-lit mirror with a row of bright bulbs framed the desk, casting an even glow over the carefully arranged selection of makeup. Her gaze flicked across the room until it landed on the outfit hanging from the wardrobe door. The sight made her pause.

"Wow. That’s a lot of gold."

The leotard shimmered under the lights, catching every flicker like it was spun from liquid metal. It was dazzling, ostentatious, and easily the most glittery thing she had ever seen. The accompanying American tan tights were draped neatly beside it, completing the classic assistant’s look. Milly smirked.

“Well, Claude certainly has a vision,” she muttered.

Her attention shifted to the desk, where a small note rested atop the smooth wooden surface. She picked it up, eyes skimming over the neat, deliberate handwriting.

"Milly, please make yourself look glamorous. See you soon. —Claude."

Milly huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “No pressure, then.” She set the note back down, turning toward the outfit again. The sheer extravagance of it made her hesitate, but only for a moment. If this was how the show was going to go, she might as well get used to it now. With a roll of her shoulders, she grabbed the leotard and tights, ready to step into Claude’s vision—whatever that might entail.

Milly carefully slid the tights up her legs, smoothing out any creases as she adjusted the waistband into place. They clung snugly, giving her skin a smooth, polished sheen under the lights. As she reached for the leotard, she hesitated for a moment, running her fingers over the shimmering gold fabric. It had a strange texture—not quite spandex, but not entirely latex either.

What the hell is this made of?

She stretched it between her hands, feeling its resistance before finally pulling it over her body. The material clung to her curves instantly, moulding against her like a second skin. She had to take her time easing it into place, tugging carefully as it shifted and adjusted to her form. The high-cut design accentuated her legs, and when she glanced down, she could still see her toes through the sheer tights, adding to the almost surreal glossiness of the entire look.

Stepping over to the vanity, she examined herself in the mirror, tilting her head as she considered her reflection. Glamorous, Claude had written.

"Alright," she murmured to herself, reaching for the makeup. "Let’s see if I can make my face match these tights."

She selected a rich red lipstick first, smoothing it across her lips in precise strokes. Then came dark eyeliner, a shimmering gold highlight, and lashes thick enough to catch the light. As she worked, a small smirk played on her lips. She had no idea what awaited her on the stage, but if she was going to be sawed in half, she might as well look good doing it.

Milly took a final glance at her reflection, her lashes bold and dramatic, her lips perfectly shaped in red. She flexed her fingers, admiring the clean finish of her French polish. The little details mattered, and she was glad she had taken the time earlier in the day to make sure her nails were in top shape.

As she stood, her eyes caught the shoe box near the door. She hadn't noticed it before, but now curiosity got the better of her. Lifting the lid, she let out a small, amused huff. Inside was a pair of golden stilettos, shimmering under the soft light. Not the highest heels she had ever worn, but high enough to push her posture into a poised elegance, giving a slight lift to her backside. Slipping them on, she stood and tested her balance. The extra height made her already long legs seem even longer, accentuating the glossy sheen of her tights. Satisfied, she turned back to the mirror—only to realize her hair was still a little too ordinary compared to the rest of the look.

"Well, if we’re going all out…" she muttered, reaching for the sink. She dampened her fingers and ran them through her auburn locks, tousling them until they were properly damp. Then she grabbed the hairdryer from the counter, blasting hot air through the strands, teasing and fluffing them into a voluminous, wild shape. By the time she was done, her reflection practically screamed 1980s showgirl meets high-fashion magic assistant. A smirk curled at the corner of her lips as she took one last look.

"Alright, Claude," she murmured. "Let's see what you've got planned for me."

With that, she turned toward the door, her golden heels clicking against the floor as she stepped out, ready for whatever awaited her on stage. Before she turned the door handle, she had a little shiver in preparation of what was about to occur. As Stephanie had told her, all she had to do was follow the instructions, the magicians will do everything else. She took a deep breath and on exhaling, a slight giggle rippled across her lips.

Where did that come from Milly thought as she turned the handle.

She opened the door and then saw the previous empty chamber had now been filled and the room was buzzing; curtains had now been draped down in front of the dressing room door. There were 5 empty seats at the front. Stephanie was there at the door as Milly opened the door and took Milly's hand. Stephanie took Milly to a seat behind the curtains and said she will call her to the stage. Milly sat down, smoothing her golden leotard over her thighs as she took in the muffled sounds beyond the curtain. The room, once sparse and empty, was now alive with an expectant hum—quiet conversations, the shuffle of feet, the occasional creak of a chair as someone shifted in their seat. The energy of it prickled at her skin, setting her nerves alight.

Stephanie gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. "You’re going to be just fine," she said, her voice calm and confident. "Just follow their lead and remember—this is all part of the show."

Milly nodded, but her heart was already starting to race. The five empty seats at the front were waiting to be filled, and soon, the five magicians would take their places. She could already sense their presence somewhere beyond the curtain, waiting to begin. She leaned back slightly, her fingers resting on her knees. Her body was buzzing—not just from nerves, but from something else. Anticipation. Excitement. Maybe even a little thrill at the unknown. She had modelled before, performed before, but this was different. This was something new, something unpredictable. Her lips parted slightly as she took another slow breath.

And then—

"Alright, Milly," Stephanie’s voice called softly from nearby. "It’s time."

Milly straightened, adjusted her posture, and stood. As she stepped toward the stage, her golden heels clicking against the floor, she felt another shiver dance up her spine. Whatever was about to happen, she was ready.