Taehyung watches as the crowds enter the stage hall, picking up the slight gestures they made as they passed through the doors;  light wave of the hand, a quick glance of a watch, or a little twitch in their fingers. All trivial details, but each taught him how to observe, how to read.

  The crowd was modest, but more than enough considering that it was only a small show. The people passed him one by one as he waited outside the doors, alone as he leaned against the wall.

  He checked the time on his phone impatiently. There were only a few minutes before the show started and Yira had yet to appear. He had no details of when or where she’d come.

  A light jingle rang in the air and he raised his head. His thoughts slowed to a halt.

  Metal tags on beaded bracelets clinked together on her wrist as Yira swept her hair to her side. Her long, ankle length dress in muted pink fluttered with her strides. She wore a stiff denim jacket and heeled sandals of beige. Her long black hair tied to one side with a patterned ribbon that ended at her hip.

  “Well, we’re both here,” she said, her face blank with not even a sign of greeting. “Let’s go inside.” She passed right by him and stepped through the entrance.

  Returning to his senses and remembering that he could speak, he followed her. “Wow, nice, not even a hello?”

  “Hello,” she deadpanned as she continued into the dimming room.

  An usher approached them, a plain man in a uniform. “May I see your tickets please?”

  Taehyung pulled out the tickets and the usher pointed them towards the middle row. “Here are your seats, please enjoy the show with your girlfriend.”

  “Wait, we’re not-” he denied, red faced but the man already taken off, an empty expression on his face. “Well that was rude,” he murmured. He looked nervously to Yira, wondering if they really did look like a couple. His thoughts travelled but tied them back down to reality.

  Yira dropped her bag on the empty seat beside her and sat down, leaving the seat next to the aisle for Taehyung.

  “Not the best seats, the view's not that great,” she commented.

  “Stop complaining, front row tickets are expensive as hell.”

  Yira shrugged as the lights dimmed until it was almost pitch black.

  “I still don’t get why I had to pay for everything,” he muttered.

  “Isn’t it customary for the man to pay?” she replied nonchalantly.

  “But that’s only if it’s a date!” he hissed. “And we’re definitely not-”

  “Ssshh,” she shushed. “It’s starting.”

  The curtains slid open and the shadowy silhouette of the hypnotist stood at the centre of the stage.

  Taehyung watched unamused as the lights flashed on and the voice overhead boomed, barely paying attention. The routine hadn’t changed much, except in the place of Hyosung, another shorter girl strutted around in the flashy costume, noticeably less practiced than Hyosung as she stumbled on stage.

  Another audience member was brought onstage, also shy and nervous looking. He saw the same handshake trick being used and the volunteer fell under the same spell, much less impressive now that Taehyung knew the tricks behind it.

  As he watched in the darkness, Yira’s light touched rested on his hand and in an instant, his eyes grew wide and alert, his heart quickening in pace out of his control.

  “Watch your pocket,” she whispered calmly.

  He glanced to find a hand hovering by his wallet and he snatched the hand by the wrist and yanked it away, looking up to see the face of the same usher as before. To his surprise, the man looked unfazed, barely acknowledging that he was caught.

  “Let him go,” she directed.

  He turned to her with a look that questioned her sanity, but she only stared ahead to the stage. “Just do it,” she said.

  Reluctantly, he let him go, and the usher went away as if nothing happened.

  Taehyung's eyes scanned the crowd to see dozens of workers, each wandering about the hall hidden in plain sight, lingering just a second too long around the audience.

  “They’re robbing everybody!” he hissed.

  “It’s a common magician’s trick,” she whispered. “Distract the audience with a flash and a bang in one hand, while performing the real work with the other. He is drawing their attention with his hypnotism while having his employees steal as they watch.”

  Taehyung stood up angrily with the urge to do something but he was pulled back down by a tug on his sleeve.

  “Sit down,” she ordered, cold authority in her whispering voice.

  He stared at her incredulously. “What the hell do you expect me to do?!” He hissed. “They’re robbing us!”

  “Watch your things,” she advised, and she leaned back in her chair and folded her hands on her lap. “And wait.”

  Grudgingly, he lowered himself back into the seat, glaring narrow eyed at the man bowing on stage.

***

  As the final round of applause faded, the lights slowly turned back on and the crowd cleared out of the room.

  “So?” he asked as person by person the audience passed their seats.

  “So what?” she replied calmly.

  Taehyung was irked. “So what do you plan to do?” he hissed. “Half the people here just got robbed and they don’t even know it! You said to wait but the show's over. Now what?”

  “Excuse me,” an usher interrupted. “The show is now over. Please clear out of the hall.”

  The man received a hard glare from Taehyung but Yira gave him a light, assuring pat on his shoulder as she stepped onto the aisle. “Let’s go,” she told Taehyung.

  They stepped out into the clearly lit lobby where the most of the crowd had dispersed for home with only a few remaining in small groups by the walls. Workers clad in uniform swept the floors and directed people outside.

  “All shows are now over, please clear out of the building!” a worker announced. He approached Yira. “I’m sorry miss, but I’m afraid we’re closing for the night.”

  “Oh, no problem,” she responded with a smile. “I’ll just make a quick trip to the lady’s room first. Excuse us.”

  With a slight gesture of her hand like a wave of a wand, she sent the worker away and she stepped towards the toilets.

  She pushed on the men’s room door and Taehyung opened his mouth to object, but before he could utter a sound, she grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him inside, just as a worker passed the closing doors.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” he yelled in shock as he fixed his shirt. “This is the men’s toilets!”

  Casually, Yira retied her ribbon, brushing her fingers through her long black hair. “This isn’t my first choice. There was a worker in the girl’s toilets.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Hide in the stalls until they think everyone has left,” she directed, looking bored. “And then we can deal with the hypnotist and his merry band of thieves.”

  “But you’re in the men’s-!”

  With a drawn out squeak, the doors opened, and in a panic, he shoved Yira into the first stall and shut the door behind them. Two boys approached the urinals.

  “Do you think all that hypnotism was real?” inquired a curious voice.

  “I don’t know but it’d be awesome if it is.”

  A string of curses passed Taehyung’s mind as he recognised the voice as a classmate. Now he couldn’t leave no matter how much he wanted to

  Warm, soft breaths passed by his ear and he stopped as it dawned on him where he was.

  The space of the stall was surprisingly small. Yira sat on the lid of the toilet, his knee on the edge and her legs by both sides of his hips with her feet pressed against the door. Their bodies didn’t touch, but almost.

  His mind emptied of thought and sense and he remained frozen, unable to room, only recognising the sweet, scent of her perfume like ginger.

  Yira appeared relaxed and a little dull. She held the cloth of her dress out of view from the gap under the door and she twiddled with the pendant of her necklace with her fingers, patiently waiting as the boys finished talking outside.

  The two boys left, but Yira and Taehyung stayed in the small, tense space of the stall. Not a sound leaving their lips but the sound of their quiet breathing, until the voices outside died down into silence.

  “Kim Taehyung,” she said, her soft but clear voice cutting through the air.

  “Y-yeah?” he stuttered.

  “We can leave now.”

  “O-oh yeah, of course. Let’s go,” he said, avoiding her eye.

  They stepped out into the lobby, now empty of people. She headed towards the stage hall, placing both hands on the door and pushing them open. Taehyung stood idle behind, a pink tint to his cheeks as he nervously rubbed his neck, heat lingering uncomfortably on his body.

  The hall was empty, row upon row of seats bare. A few pale lights still gleamed on the stage, illuminating a man pointing his cane at his workers.

  “Yoora, come here and pack up the chairs!” he directed, swinging his cane like a conductors baton.

  “Now sir, that isn’t very sightly.”

  The hypnotist dropped the point of his cane with a tap and he turned around to see Yira standing tall on the edge of his stage with Taehyung standing close beside her.

  “A gentleman should never point his cane at a lady,” she continued, her voice airily mocking. “But I suppose a real gentleman would never steal would he?”

  Haha’s face twitched but he maintained a stage worthy smile. “And who might you be, lovely young lady?”

  “Nobody important,” she said, her arms crossed as she toured the stage, looking at everything as if she were in an art gallery. “Quite the slick operation you have here,” she praised, touching her finger to a worker’s shoulder. “Hypnotised, correct?”

  Haha smiled. “What gives you that impression, young lady?”

  Yira gave a low, admiring whistle. “Quite impressive skill. These slip in and out don’t they?” she presumed as she snapped her fingers in the workers face, who remained still as if they were mannequins. “You arranged it so they had trigger words. They fall under a spell whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  “Conjecture,” he accused calmly.

  Taehyung grew tense, irritated by the slow and false pleasantries, his patients wearing thin.

  Yira spun around and smiled, haughty and childlike. She approached him with an easy gait, almost lazy and made a gesture to the entire stage. “Quite the set up. You distract with your dinner party tricks while your hypnotised workers sift through the crowd for wallets and watches, all the while completely oblivious to their actions.”

  She stepped up to him and tilted her head. “I must say,” she began. “You’re quite talented to manage this on such a scale.”

  “I thank you for your high praise, young lady,” he replied, his tone polite but his eyes like glass. “Might I offer you a free demonstration?”

  He tossed his cane at her, his hands poised to catch the end, but with a twirl of Yira’s finger, before he could react, she flicked the cane back into his hand and she pointed her finger to his forehead.

  “Cluck.”

  The man’s eyes widened and a sound no unlike a fowl’s escaped his mouth and he looked to her with an expression of detest.

  Yira chuckled. “But I suppose, it is less to do with talent than it is finding the right dupe.”

  The man smiled but seethed with anger. “You-”

  “Excuse me!” Taehyung snapped, finally had enough of listening to their banter. “In case you forgot, you’re robbing people and even though I don’t know which, you’re definitely infringing on a couple of human rights laws. So let those poor workers go and give back the crap you stole!”

  Haha returned an arrogant smile. “And why would I listen to you?”

  “Because I’m going to make sure your lands in a jail cell,” he threatened; his voice cold and hard.

  “Well, I’m afraid that goes against my personal interests,” he said calmly as he tucked his cane under his arm. “So I’ll just have to take care of you two.”

  He clapped twice, loud and clear, and a slow march sounded behind him. From the curtains and doors came a slow army of uniform clad workers, their faces blank as they encircled them like hawks.

  “This is quite a blunt approach,” Yira commented, not appearing the least bit intimidating, instead mildly amused.

  “I prefer the simple methods,” Haha explained. He raised his hand in the air before dropping it. “Get them.”

  As if a switch had been flipped, the workers came to life and charged, arms outstretched and eyes empty.

  A man lunged at Taehyung but he grabbed his arm and flipped him to the side before pinning him to the ground with his knee between his shoulder blades.

  But more came at him. He dodged their clumsy swings and pushed them aside, trying hard to avoid doing damage as he knew they were unconscious and innocent.

  Not a hit landed on Yira. With easy steps, she cleanly avoided all attacks with no effort. Those came close, found her hand on their backs, lightly shoving them towards Taehyung.

  “Can you stop sending them my way!?” he yelled, annoyed as more came at him.

  “There is a better way of dealing with them,” she said as she sidestepped a woman’s grasp.

  “Then now would be a good freaking time to say it, Yira!” he snapped as he pinned another man to the floor.

  “Well, these people are in simplified terms, just out of their senses,” she began as she approached a man. “So the best way to knock them out of it is…”

  She raised her hand and a cracking slap resonated through the air, making even Taehyung cringe.

  The man stumbled to his side, noticeably dazed as he clutched at his face. He looked around confused, a red mark already forming on his cheek, and his eyes grew wide. “Hey! What the hell are you all doing?!” he yelled.

  A look of horror dawned on Haha’s face as he realised his loss of control, and he his heel, dropped his cane, and ran backstage.

  Taehyung and Yira chased after him, passing the one conscious worker who Taehyung patted on the shoulder. “They’re your problem now. Just slap them.”

  The man’s face paled as he faced an army of drones.

  The hypnotists ran through the hall crowded with props and stage tools, knocking down tables and lights behind them to stall. Taehyung leapt over every obstacle and continued on as determined as a hound. Yira however, seemed less concerned, and she slowed her pace to a walk, calmly pulling up her dress as she stepped over every obstacle.

  An exit sign glowed green above a door and and the hypnotist gave a twisted smile.

  “Stop!” Taehyung cried.

  But the man hit the door as if it were a wall. He yelped in pain and rattled the knob, but it remained firmly in place. He banged his fists against the wood. “Let me out!” he shouted.

  “No!” came a voice loud and clear from behind the door.

  Taehyung slowed to a halt and Yira caught up behind him. A look of horror and recognition grew on Haha’s face.

  “Hyosung?”

  “Yes, it’s me!” she replied.

  “Hyosung, please,” he pleaded. “Let me out.”

  “No!” she yelled angrily. “I’ve got the key and I’m not letting you out. You can rot there for all I care!”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, his voice sounding weak.

  “I heard everything!” she cried, her voice quivering as if she were bordering on tears. “And I found everything. Everything you stole! Everything you had us steal! How many times did you hypnotise me? How many times did you use me and I didn’t even know it?!”

  “Hyosung, if you let me out I’ll explain everything!” he begged pitifully.

  “Well you better be able to do it in one minute because I called the police five minutes ago!”

  The hypnotist and stumbled back, his face slack as recognised his defeat. He turned back to Taehyung, who looked at him with a smug grin.

  “I’d say this is karma,” he told him.

  And the older man fell to the floor, defeated.

***

  The police took Haha away in handcuffs, dozens of workers scattered about the stage, groaning as if hung over. Police officers struggled to make sense of the scene, and received little clarity from Haha, whose lips remained sealed as if he were under a spell.

  Yira and Taehyung stood behind the curtains with Hyosung as she hiccupped and cried.

  “Don’t be sad,” he comforted. “You’re free and you got him arrested.”

  “I’m not sad,” she denied with a hard glare. “I’m angry. It’s just that every time I get angry it spills over into crying, I don’t know how to stop it. I trusted him and he used me for years. He stole from me. He stole from everybody, and he dared act like he was trying to help us.”

  “Well now you know better,” said Yira blunt and cold. “You need to.”

  “Yira,” he hissed with a warning glare. “Can you be a little more sensitive?”

  “I’m being honest,” she replied. “You need to develop your independence since the law won’t hold him long.”

  “What?” Hyosung asked.

  With her arms crossed, she pointed a finger towards the man in cuffs. “Haha carries sole responsibilities for everything that has happened, however he still involved dozens unwitting workers. If the police arrest him, they’d have to arrest all your co-workers too, and you. Few people would believe you were all hypnotised, especially on such a large scale. At best the court system will waste a large portion of his time and money, but inevitably the charges will be dropped because nobody can convincingly explain hypnotism and none of the workers want to be charged for something they didn’t have a consenting hand in.”

  “So he’s going to walk?” Hyosung asked.

  Taehyung groaned and buried his face in his hands. He should have known. Many times his father had come home in a bad mood because the court undid everything he had been working for.

  “He’s going to lose all the money he stole to a defence attorney but in the end he’ll get off,” she told her. “His character type is likely to just start again in a new place under a new name.”

  “So what do I do?” she questioned.

  “Whatever you want,” she told her. “But move on. Stay out of his way. Get a new job, move to someplace you’ve always wanted to. Start over and don’t dwell. It’s the best you can do.”

  Hyosung sighed, her tears drying but still leaving stains. “Thanks, you guys. I guess this is for the best. Thanks for helping me.”

  “You’re free to visit my shop anytime you want,” Yira offered.

  “Thanks, I probably will,” she chuckled. She swallowed and threw her tissue into a trash can. “But first I have something to show you. Follow me.”

  They were lead backstage, to a quiet place out of sight and hidden behind a rack of costumes. They entered through a door into a tiny room of red brick, with boxes stacked in the corner, and a simplistic vanity against the wall.

  “I get changed in here,” Hyosung explained as she approached the corner. She kicked aside the boxes, revealing a small, messy pile of glittering trinkets, expensive items tossed together like trash.

  “I found it while I was scanning the place,” she explained with a sniff. “I think it’s at least everything I stole. I don’t know if you ever had anything stolen here, but it’s a good place to start if you did.”

  Taehyung turned to Yira and saw her give a slight, approving nod, and he knelt down and sifted through the pile. He found expensive watches, thick wallets, and countless mismatched jewellery, but his hand found a single black string.

  He pulled it out of the jingling pile to see the round, blue eye of his charm, slowly rotating on the string as it glinted under the lights.

   “Is that yours?” Hyosung asked.

  “Yes, it is.”

  From the side, Yira gave a small smile.