📜🎩 T H E ☆ M A G I C I A N - Act 59 (Including Pics!)

Content possibilities for the whole story: original content, w/w(?) or overall queerness, fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, asexuality/demisexuality, cryptid (?) pregnancy, nb(?)preg, sexual & kink awakening, stuffing, nausea, gender ambiguity, toxic relationships, partially male-presenting pregnancy, birth, transphobia (mention), dysphoria, depression & suicidal thoughts, parental conflicts, cnc-like intercourse, use of alcohol and other drugs, demons, religions & mythology (diverse), cursing, profanity, belly focus & sounds

🐍▶ Read all from the start
Part I: 1-3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 l 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19
Part II: 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 28½ | 29 | 30 | 30½ | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 41½ | 42 | 43
Part III: 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 |
🎩▶ Last Chapter

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T H E  ☆  M A G I C I A N

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Act 59

Mary

When Mary turned around and walked towards the beautiful woman from earlier, almost on autopilot, her breathing quickened.

Mel had called her Rosemary. Not Mary, not little dove, not Rozemarijntje nor any other Dutch version. 

This would’ve been enough to signal Mary that something was off, but the look in her eyes had left no doubt that it was urgent for Mary to follow up on Mel’s request quickly and without any further question.

So that’s what she did.

Upon seeing her, Lynette threw her a condescending, almost annoyed look. But then Mary said, “Mel told me to ask you about your first night in Venice,” and everything changed. The woman’s eyes grew soft and concerned, her attention that seemed to be everywhere at once now focused solely on Mary, and even her posture shifted. Before, she portrayed an almost otherworldly, sublime, and untouchable woman, but now it seemed like she didn’t care about her looks and performance anymore. It made her instantly seem so much more human; it was almost eerie.

She turned towards Mary, bending over to be a little closer. Her expression made it clear that Mary had asked something that didn’t seem as innocent or at least desultory as it sounded.

“Where’s Mel?” she asked, alarmed.

Mary looked over her shoulder, in the buffet's direction, where Melodie had been talking with the weird man and now walked towards the restrooms with him. Lynette followed her gaze, and when Melodie and the guy disappeared behind the door, she touched Mary’s shoulder.

“Let’s go for a walk, okay?” Lynette said, gently, as if she was trying to calm somebody.

Something was wrong. Something that Lynette and Mel clearly had more information about and didn’t — or couldn’t — share. Mary felt a great sense of discomfort and a lack of footing, sensing danger and not being able to grasp it. She was worried, but following Lynette’s guidance probably was the best she could do right now, so she nodded.

Lynette didn’t really wait for her answer anyway, because she already took hold of Mary’s hand and locked it onto her elbow before she even responded, showing that the question was rhetorical. With hasty steps she led her away from the bathrooms to the back of the big hall, where doors led to an inner court or garden, though she made a little detour to cross paths with another man. Mary didn’t know how it was possible to not notice him before; he was taller than everyone else — even Melodie! — and most likely more than double Mary’s mass. And he was watching the restroom doors, too, with crossed arms and a clenched jaw. He looked scary.

“Hey big boy, stop looking like a handsome piece of decoration and join us for a stroll.”

The guy turned his head only slightly, and his answer was sparse: “Can’t.”

Lynette got closer to him.
“Tomas, I really think Mel would appreciate it if you stayed close to his dear friend and today’s entourage.”

Something in her voice made him attentive and finally focus on her. He took a good look at her, then at Mary. Nothing about him gave any hints about what was going through his head, but eventually, when Lynette proceeded to walk towards the gardens, he moved, too, walking behind them.

“A friend of Mel,” Lynette cleared things up for Mary, albeit sparsely, while entering the romantically lit garden and then asked, “Tell me, how have you two met?”

Mary could tell that it was meant to sound casual, but Lynette was clearly tense, and having a huge bouncer guy, who looked more like one of the Men in Black than just ‘a friend’ following them closely didn’t help, either.

Despite all that, Mary engaged with the conversation attempt. 

“I can tell you, but it isn’t that special, really. It was on my very first Melody of the Stars show.”

“Mhm, tell me more,” Lynette requested a little absent-mindedly, while looking over her shoulder.

“I was trying to escape the masses by taking the back entrance, and there we kind of bumped into each other.”

“Go on.”

Mary knew Lynette wasn’t really interested, but she didn’t want to destroy the efforts of… whatever Lynette was doing right now. It also felt good to talk like everything was actually okay right now. It didn’t distract Mary’s mind, but it soothed the lurking panic at least a little. Like when she had to get shots at the hospital and the doctor was doing some relaxed bantering chat. It helped to actually engage in that.

“I, uhm… I was rather perplexed by it, but Melodie offered to ride me home.”

For the first time, Lynette looked at her with interest. “He did?”

Even though Lynette had said it a couple of times before, it was always a bit strange hearing people call Mel ‘he’. “Yes. I was surprised, too, but I agreed. And then I invited Mel to a drink.”

Lynette now seemed properly invested. “And he did?” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“Wow. That’s… rather unusual for him, to let fans this close,” Lynette pondered.

“I wasn’t a fan. I’ve never even heard about Mel before,” Mary reminded her, careful to avoid her usual use of pronouns.

“Ah, right, he had said that before. Are you famous or something?”

“No.”

And there it was again, the arrogant, dismissive look, as if Lynette was thinking, ‘Well, it can’t be because of your appearance.’ Thankfully, she stayed silent.

“I see. Well. Clearly he must’ve seen something in you. I have known him for almost a decade now. He doesn’t really do, well, ‘friends.’”

Surprised, Mary looked at Lynette first, then at the guy behind them, trying to puzzle out what these two people were, if not friends.

“Well, except us, of course,” the woman quickly corrected, then added a little rattled, “Though we’re not exactly that close to him, either. He’s afraid of building up relationships, for some reason. Or maybe he’s just not interested in anyone; it’s hard to tell.”

Behind her, Mary heard the silent follower making a sound that seemed both like an agreement and upset.

“Why is that?” Mary asked.

“You surely must have an idea about who he is by now, right? He’s a genius. Brilliant. Famous. A luminary. Different, but charming. Kind, but distant. Impossibly hard-working. He’s not even 40 and has changed the game in the industry. People like that have the most enemies. Or arguably worse: pretend friends. Leechers, who are so convinced that they are the protagonist that they are unable to stand up for the pain they cause or to acknowledge crossing boundaries.”

Another deep rumble resounded within the man’s chest.

“Often people who glorify stars, you know. Who don’t even realize we’re human, too. And who try to hold us accountable for it, if we dare to show that we are. I don’t know if that makes sense to you.”

As somebody who never had a real friend — pretend or not — Mary had a hard time wrapping her head around it. She always thought extroverted people were blessed, first and foremost. But Lynette's words made sense. Mary’s dad wasn’t as hyped as Melodie, but he was rich and therefore influential, and she knew that he, too, had to be careful about whom to trust.

“It… it sounds like you know how it feels,” Mary carefully noted, while leaning a little nearer to Lynette. Her openness made Mary feel closer. There clearly was a lot of thought, experience, and pain behind the shining, perfect facade of her, and the young woman began to understand why Mel held her in high regard.

Lynette’s answers came out as if they would scratch her throat, though she had a professional tone. “It comes with being a star. You pay with doubts. About others, about yourself, even about your family. Fame can infect even them.”

Gently, Mary brought Lynette to a halt by stopping herself, looking at her face to check if she was okay. Maybe it was the dim lights, but for a brief moment, she looked incredibly exhausted, before she got a grip of herself again.

“Your eyes…” the picture-perfect pin-up commented all of a sudden silently, as if she was looking at Mary truly for the first time. Mary forced herself not to look away in shame of somebody calling out the defect she usually wasn’t confident about, to show Lynette that she was invested in this moment.

As if she woke up from a moment of frailty, she quickly added, “Anyway, why am I telling you all this? I drank too much. I don’t even know your name.”

Mary could tell that the woman was acting tough, but she now understood that she had a good reason. So she reminded her calmly, and without offense, “It’s Mary.”

“Well,” she continued and started to walk again, barely noticing Mary’s answer, “There you have it. That’s why Mel’s like that. At least partially, probably. I can only guess, because he’s a goddamn slippery eel and can avoid emotional and tough conversations without you even noticing it.
Though it’s unusually extreme in his case. The reclusiveness, I mean. I’m curious, though. How is it with you, girl?”

“It’s Mary,” she reminded Lynette a third time, gently claiming respect and acknowledgement this way.

“...Mary.”, Lynette finally addressed her, even though a little annoyed.

Mary thought about the question. Her initial reaction was to say that, no, they weren’t that close, either. That they’ve only seen each other, what, 6 times? That Mary didn’t know many essential things about Mel, first off because they didn’t know each other for long, but also because she was very reserved about a bunch of stuff. Like her past, her gender, her condition, and of course, her tricks.

But then Mary concluded that this was not a lack of knowledge that needed to be overcome to feel close to Mel or be her friend — this all was an essential part of who she was. You have to take her with all these mysteries and her decision to not share, not with the expectation to learn all these things eventually. Mary felt close to her, despite — no — because of all of this.

And lastly, with an overwhelming flutter within her stomach, Mary remembered that Mel was her girlfriend now. So… no, she couldn’t really state that they weren’t close. But she also didn’t know how much she was allowed to disclose.

“We are very close,” she answered simply.

Lynette came to a halt again, looking at Mary with squinted eyes.

“You’re lying,” she said.

“No,” Mary answered calmly.

“Why you?”

This time, Mary didn’t know what to answer. Yes, why her?

The guy behind them came a little closer. Did he try to hear more?

“I mean, no offense, but look at you. You very clearly don’t work out, probably don’t even diet, and you lack interesting features, a notable career, charm, and probably even skills. You’re a shrinking violet in a pretty dress. Unless you’re a paid actress, I don’t get what’s going on. You're a nobody.”

An arm as thick as a log darted up and made Mary wince; for a moment, she thought that the man that was accompanying them was trying to go for her. Instead, he grabbed Lynette on her shoulder, looking at her dunningly. 

“That’s enough,” he growled.

Maybe he wasn’t as mean as he looked, after all.

Lynette gave him a sharp look. “I didn’t ask you to come with me to then go after me.”

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he just looked at her; until, eventually, Lynette sighed and relaxed again.

“Okay, big boy. Got the message. I asked you to protect us, and that you did. Bravo. But you know Mel even longer than me, right? You have to admit that it doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes sense,” he answered bluntly.

Lynette raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Instead of answering immediately, the man grunted again. It definitely sounded annoyed this time.

Mary, looking back and forth between them, felt out of place and overlooked. On top of that, she had to admit that Lynette’s words didn’t pass her completely.
Mel had done a great job making Mary feel loved, special, and overall fantastic. Just by being herself, Mel had drawn Mary out of her shell. After their first encounter, when Mel had scolded Mary for not feeling special, she had switched her focus away from comparing herself with others, and onto authentic interactions with Melodie. Despite being a trickster, Mel’s feelings towards Mary shone through her touch, time spent, gestures, and eyes, so Mary had stopped thinking about her value naturally.

But Lynette had a point — why her? Why Mary?

The guy called Tomas gave a response, though it wasn’t really insightful.

“Look at her,” he said.

Lynette took a pause and did so. Mary would’ve loved to know what was going through hers, or the dude’s,  head, but neither of them revealed their thoughts. Quite rudely, to be honest. Then, before Mary could even ask, Lynette promptly switched the topic.

“Who cares anyway,” she sliced through the situation like a knife, acting untouchable and distant again. “This topic bores me, let’s switch to something else.”

That was fine by Mary. The conversation had taken a turn that had put her into the spotlight in a very uncomfortable way.

“You haven’t told me about your first night in Venice yet,” Mary brought up again.

In an instant, worry returned to Lynette's face. Even the ‘big boy’ seemed concerned now.

“What… what is it? Why do you behave like this, when I say that?”

The woman didn’t answer.

“Lynette, please tell me,” Mary begged, now even more concerned.

Wrinkles of worry carved into the beautiful woman’s face while she struggled to answer, probably contemplating whether she should tell Mary or not. Then, finally, she said: “That was the night Mel protected me from a very dangerous man.”

▶️ NEXT CHAPTER

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Story written by RoseVirage