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Planning their own coordinated shows isn’t the easiest. The Eye handles their big shows, yes, but in the meantime they still need money. They still have that itch to perform, and making a name for The Four Horsemen before they go up on stage can only help in the long run.
This act, it was more of a joke, at this point. They weren’t affectionate in public, if they could avoid it. People’s eyes linger too long when there’re four people kissing each other at the Denny’s, or holding hands while they all walk down the street.
The most affectionate they get is between Henley and Danny, the headliner relationship, shown through gentle touches and tightly clasped hands. Her last performance with him, though, she’d kissed him in front of their sizeable crowd, grinning into his lips at the sound of cheering around them. Jack and Merritt had ribbed them for it teasingly when they got back to the apartment, both having returned an hour before them from hiding in the crowd.
(“That sure wasn’t in the script,” Merritt grinned cheekily at them, from his place on the loveseat, legs kicked up onto the coffee table, “Where’s the love for me? For Jacky over here?”
“Yeah, Hen, you can’t be picking favorites, can you?” Jack joined in, already curled up in his chair comfortably, “Kiss one of us next time, why don’t you?”
Henley, the devil that she is, gave a suave smirk and said, “Maybe I will.” Before she went to change out of her performance clothes.)
That’s what led to this. To him sat right beside her, papers spread on the table. They were less plants and more vague outlines, notes on what they’d been talking about. Written up in Henley’s elegant cursive script in thin, black ballpoint pen. In the margins sat Jack’s scrawl, haphazardly thrown on with red colored pencil.
The rug they’d set up beneath the living room furniture dug into his knees, a cheap thing that was more for decoration that protecting any of them from the hardwood floor, “Maybe we should open with it?” He asked, scribbling a loose arrow from one step to the next on a piece of paper.
She leaned in closer to him, to the point that he couldn’t see the paper around her halo of red hair, “I think we should start with tricks, then finish out with the waltz. That way we draw their attention, some of them recognize us, and we wow them at the end.”
“Yeah, that sounds better,” he crossed out his arrow, writing a small Final Trick next to the waltz, “We’ve still got their attention online, with that trick you and Danny did last week. The one where–”
She laughed, picking up where he left off with a grin, “Where Danny and I swapped roles, him the magicians assistant and me the main attraction. He’s still mad at me for that.”
“I doubt that, he looked pretty smitten when you got home.”
“Bet that had something to do with us kissing in a crowd of people, like they weren’t there,” she let out a soft, lovesick sigh. He snorted, breaking the moment, “Plus, we got loads of extra tips for it. Think it’ll work a second time?” She waggled her brows at him.
“Only one way to find out, right?”
…
They had one week to prepare. One week spent perfecting the angle of his cards, of learning how to move with one another in an intimate way they hadn’t had the chance to before. They came up with countless scenarios to work with, for different crowd sizes and reactions.
The night of the performance, Jack carried three decks of cheap corner store cards in his pockets. He used them over and over during practice, ensuring they were properly broken in. Henley was by his side, handcuffs hanging off hip, form fitting dress clinging to her curves. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and if the look on her face was anything to go by, she knew it.
Magic performances weren’t long by nature, not when you were performing on the street. They had about forty-five minutes worth of tricks, because if you don’t have a stage to be on then people aren’t obligated to stay. They haven’t paid money to see you, and taking too long to get to the good part meant they would lose the crowd.
By the time they reached their final trick, a thick gathering of civilians surrounded them. Merritt and Danny were noticeable in the way they both bundled up, keeping themselves unrecognizable. Even if they were still not quite well known, the citizens of New York City had been seeing them perform once a week for the last three months.
The payout so far was good, noticeable but nothing more than a drop in the bucket compared to their upcoming performances. He’s finishing up a card trick he’d learned from watching Danny perform, charismatic grin on his face. Henley matches it with ease when he turns his attention to her, and the handcuffs she’s been sealed in for the last ten minutes.
She’d shown off plenty for the majority of the show, and when he bucked her up he’d turned to the crowd and winked, “We’ll let her wriggle for a bit,” He’d said. Now, he holds up the Jack of Hearts, winking at a girl in the front row of people who giggles and bites her lip, before flicking it out of his hand.
The card flies toward Henley’s hands, and she raises her wrists in time for it to catch the chain, slicing clean through. It smacks her harmlessly in the chest, the soft breeze pushing it in just the right way to land flat.
It’s all showmanship after that, thanking their audience, taunting women with his gaze, knowing the only one he’d be taking back to his bed was stood right at his side, doing the same thing with the men that stood beside those ladies.
He throws his arms out to grab everyones attention, “We’ve got one more trick for you tonight!” He announces over the sound of cars driving down the street, over the sound of people talking amongst themselves. “Thank you so much for sticking around for the night, but for this last part we need a bit of room, can you guys do that?!”
The crowd cheers, and parts. They’re given more than enough room to work, enough room for Henley and Jack to stand about six feet apart from one another, just on the edges of where the people are watching. He takes a subtle breath, practiced motions ensuring his cards are properly prepared.
She moves first. Henley moves with a grace he’ll never possess, motions like a fluid. Her silver winter dress hugs her in all the right places, the sheer fabric hanging off it flies through the air, making her look ethereal under the streetlights. Her movements are precice and familiar, bringing her across the gap until she’s halfway toward him, one hand on her hip, and the other beckoning him forward.
His movements aren’t as gentle, he moves sharp and quick, the fire to her water. He meets her, wrapping his arms around her. Their feet dance around one another, never once making a mistake. The crowd has gone quiet, and he’s heard footsteps leaving already. They knew this wouldn’t be as well received as their typical tricks, not at first, but it would cause some stirring of the pot regardless.
They dip to the side, his nose practically touching hers, with their hands pressed together high in the other direction. He flicks his wrist, tugging the string mechanism beneath his jacket sleeves, and cards go flying. When they stand again, the cards are floating around them like snow.
The crowd ooh’s and ahh’s appropriately, and they get a flurry of clapping when he spins her so her dress tangles around her feet, showering her with cards. It’s not easy to pull off, not when both his hands are on full view or occupied keeping her upright as she performs a motion only ballerinas ever seem to do as effortlessly.
Jack keeps her in his arms. They keep moving, artistic flurries of cards surround them in elaborate motions. They dance around his and Henley’s clasped hands, and spin listlessly above the ground. They’ve spent weeks working on this, and he sees more and more people step forward to drop coins and dollar bills into their pot.
He catches Danny’s eye partway through. The man has a small, fond smile on his lips, just like Merritt beside him. Something soft and vulnerable that he rarely shows unless he knows nobody’s looking. When they lock eyes, that smile dips. He averts his gaze, clearly embarrassed to be caught enjoying the scene. It just makes Jack’s grin to big, turn wild, as he returns his focus to the main event.
It’s not long. The whole thing lasts maybe five minutes, but his arms and legs are sore by the end. It doesn’t matter, because he dips her lower than he needs to for the sake of the show, and plants a long, breathless kiss to her cherry painted lips. Blue and white cards fall lazily around them.
The crowd cheers and applauds, whistles breaking the night. They both stand straight, beaming at the reception. They bow, and now that he’s standing, Jack can see that they’ve gathered more of a crowd, by some miracle. When they fill up their tips, it’s filled with double the amount they usually get when performing at the park, all spare change and loose bills from what must be a hundred people.
This time, the other half of their little family doesn’t go home ahead. They meet up a few blocks away from where Henley and Jack stumble away from their no longer captive audience like lovesick fools, and spend the walk back to their apartment avidly, happily, arguing about who got more tips and who got the better reception.
Even Merritt, who wasn’t at either event, but seems perfectly content to be playing both sides.
(“Whose side are you on, Merritt McKinney?” Henley pointed a sharp finger at him, pale gray gloves catching the warm streetlights. The eldest Horseman grinned.
“Yours, of course, my darling firecracker,” he’d purred. Two minutes later, he backs up Danny’s side of the argument.)
The best payout, though is that Danny gets home two days later and slams the door behind himself. He’s loudly complaining to the three of them, who’re settled on the couch eating Chinese takeout because there weren’t any groceries left in the fridge and Danny always took three hours to go shopping, about a fan who stopped him in the street.
That fan was insistent that Henley was cheating on him. Raved about the performance, and even went as far as showing Danny a video of them kissing at the end.
(“How- How do you even respond to that? Oh, yeah, we’re just– you know, all dating, don’t worry about it!” Danny threw his arms in the air, flopping into the space made between Henley and Merritt on the cramped loveseat, “That’d go over well, wouldn’t it?”
“I mean, that’s one way to get our name out there,” Jack quipped.)
Jack is the one to look it up online after that. To find the r/FourHorsemen subreddit flooded with evidence of Henley cheating each of them, of people convinced that she’s a player who’s managed to go undetected despite working with all three of them so closely. They’ve even roped Merritt into it, despite the two of them never showing off their love for each other in public.
There’s videos, compilations, and multi-paragraph essays on it all. And stuck in between all those posts, there’re posts that talk about all of them dating. Wholesome ones, that think it’s so cute, that Henley deserves all the love she’s getting from all three of them.
He makes sure to show those to her, most importantly.