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The evening was unusually quiet, especially considering they had only recently finished their show and the hype around the Horsemen was enormous. Another billionaire fraud exposed, another target, another completed mission. But tonight, surprisingly, there were no chases, no gunfire, no “we almost died, but somehow didn’t.” Just exhaustion hanging in the air like the remains of stage smoke after a final act.
The loft was lit by a soft yellow glow. Lula was sprawled across the couch as if it were her throne, legs thrown over the backrest while her head hung off the edge, impatiently kicking her feet back and forth. Jack sat beside her, lazily shuffling cards he couldn’t leave alone even now, because really, how could he? Merritt was settled between them, somehow taking up more space than physically possible.
Dylan sat in an armchair off to the side, quietly reading his book without a word or unnecessary sound. He had always been the observer, the controller, their shadow — the Horsemen’s shadow. And overall, almost everything was calm… almost.
— We need to do something, — Lula groaned, staring at the ceiling as if boredom itself was killing her. — I’m dying of boredom. This is worse than a Chinese prison.
— You’ve never been to a Chinese prison, — Jack pointed out, reaching toward her in an attempt to calm her hyperactivity.
— Neither have you, — she waved him off. — But I feel like this is what it’s like.
Merritt snorted and looked first at Lula, who was sitting in a position he couldn’t even imagine himself in, and then briefly at Jack, who also looked bored out of his mind.
— Trust me, if you were there, you wouldn’t be feeling. You’d be screaming. Probably very loudly.
— I can start right now, — Lula said enthusiastically, as though someone had just given her a mission, and every single one of them knew she absolutely could. So Jack hurried to stop her.
— Please don’t, — Jack sighed, then paused for a second.
That was when Merritt suddenly straightened up, his eyes lighting with a familiar dangerous spark.
— Oh. I have an idea.
— I already don’t like this, — Dylan said dryly, glancing over the top of his book without even moving.
— Two truths and one lie, — Merritt announced, far more amused now. — A classic. Simple, effective and… extremely awkward.
Lula instantly came to life like a little kid promised candy and jumped upright. She fixed her posture and sat normally again.
— Oh, yes! I love that game! Especially the part where someone accidentally reveals their trauma!
She said it with so much joy and passion that Jack snorted. Of course Lula loved finding people’s trauma and squeezing every drop out of it.
— It’s a game, Lula, not group therapy.
— Maybe for you, — she grinned too widely.
Dylan finally lowered his book and crossed his arms.
— No, I’m pretty sure by the end of this someone’s going to want to kill someone else.
— Oh, come on, — Merritt drawled. — We’ve known each other forever. What could possibly go wrong?
Dylan gave him a long look full of either disappointment or hopeless exhaustion, like a very old man, despite the fact that Merritt was technically older than him.
— Everything. You could tell each other things you won’t like or accidentally say things you never meant to admit.
Merritt let out a dramatic sigh and huffed like he wanted to scold Dylan for something, but instead replied seriously:
— What, are you taking lessons from Daniel now? Speaking of him, where is he?
Lula didn’t wait for an answer. She jumped off the couch and ran to Daniel’s room. A second later she swung the door open, apparently grabbed Daniel by the arm, and dragged him out by force. Daniel tried to resist, but eventually decided it was better to find out what she wanted first and yell at her later. He glanced at the group, a silent question frozen on his face, though he chose to ask it more politely than he did in his head.
— What’s going on?
— We’re playing Two Truths and One Lie. It’ll be fun, I swear! — Lula chirped happily, lightly shaking his arm.
Daniel immediately pulled it away.
He froze for a second — just one second — looking at everyone. Judging by his expression, he had already cursed Lula and her “brilliant ideas” at least twenty times in his head. But all he said was a firm:
— No.
He turned, already heading back to his room, but someone grabbed his arm again.
— Oh, no-no-no, — Jack got up faster than expected. — You’re not leaving.
— I’m not playing this, — Daniel said calmly, though there was something in his tone… contempt? Honestly, very on brand for him.
— Why? — Merritt asked with exaggerated innocence, putting on the sweetest face possible.
— Because it’s stupid, and not worth wasting time on when I could be doing something productive instead.
Merritt smirked. There it was — exactly what he’d been talking about. That ridiculous black-and-white way of speaking where everything fell into categories of good and bad, something Dylan had apparently picked up too.
— Or because you have something to hide? — Merritt added lazily, tilting his head.
A second of silence followed before Daniel looked at him in utter confusion, as if Merritt had just said the dumbest thing imaginable.
— Everyone has something to hide. Even my chair.
— But not everyone avoids this game that desperately. Especially not your chair, — Lula chimed in with her usual hyperactivity.
Dylan stayed silent, simply watching where this was going, and somehow that was the worst part.
Daniel exhaled shortly.
— Fine. You people aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?
Jack, Lula, and Merritt all nodded at once, though Lula was doing it far more energetically than necessary. Daniel already knew he definitely wasn’t escaping her.
He walked past them toward the kitchen. A few minutes later he came back carrying a cup of black tea with lemon and no sugar — exactly the way he liked it.
— If I’m playing, — he said, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, — you don’t ask unnecessary questions.
— That ruins half the fun, — Merritt muttered, looking and sounding like an offended schoolboy.
— Then don’t play.
— No-no, I’m emotionally invested now.
Daniel took a sip of tea and shrugged, the gesture practically screaming that everyone else’s feelings and enthusiasm were not his problem.
— Who’s first? — Jack asked.
— Me! — Lula raised her hand before anyone could answer. — Alright. First: I once shot a man.
— Totally believable, — Jack said with a grin, because yes, she absolutely would.
— Second: I worked in a circus.
— Also believable, — Merritt nodded.
— And third: I’m afraid of clowns.
A brief pause followed before Jack decided it was too obvious.
— That’s the lie.
— Correct, — Lula grinned. — I adore clowns.
— That explains a lot, — Merritt muttered.
— It would probably be difficult to work in a circus if you were afraid of clowns, — Daniel remarked sarcastically in his usual manner, and Dylan silently agreed.
The game moved along easily. Jack talked about living on the streets, though that was already known to the Horsemen. Merritt mentioned his countless marriages — which, unfortunately, was also true. Dylan briefly and dryly spoke about his teenage troublemaking, though even that was more than usual. They laughed, traded comments, and gradually, almost unnoticed, the turn reached Daniel.
He knew it would happen and still wasn’t ready to talk about his life.
— Atlas, — Merritt drawled. — Your turn.
Daniel didn’t look up. He took another sip of tea and paused for a second, deciding what he could say and what he shouldn’t. Then he set the cup down.
— Alright. — A short pause. — First: I really love classical music, and I think it’s better than any other genre.
He paused again, thinking through the next fact. Then he huffed quietly and continued.
— Second: I know four languages besides English, and my Russian is at native level.
Lula snorted immediately, clearly assuming that was the lie after remembering Macau and how terribly he’d failed to communicate with that foreign woman. She could not believe this man spoke any language fluently.
— Sounds fake.
— And third, — Daniel lifted his gaze. — I hate performing on stage in front of crowds.
Silence crashed down over the room. Even Jack stopped moving his cards. Merritt narrowed his eyes as though he’d just heard the stupidest thing in existence.
— Hm.
— Well, that’s easy, — Lula said. — The third one is the lie. You live for the stage.
Jack nodded immediately.
— Yeah, you’re literally… Atlas. Without the stage, you’re not you.
Merritt leaned forward thoughtfully before shaking his head.
— Too obvious. I’d say the second one’s the lie. Sure, maybe you know four languages, but speaking Russian like a native sounds ridiculous.
Everyone looked at Dylan because he had stayed quiet longer than anyone else.
— The third one, — he finally said. All eyes turned to him. — You’re lying about the stage. That’s the most logical answer.
Daniel looked directly at him and smiled faintly — barely noticeable, but sly, like he’d already won.
— No. — He paused several seconds, glancing around at everyone before continuing. — The lie was the first one. Classical music isn’t my favorite genre.
— Wait, — Jack frowned, something strange in his voice. Something new. — You’re… serious?
— Yes.
— You hate the stage? — Lula repeated as if she physically couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
— Since childhood. I especially hated large crowds. But I had to adapt in order to survive.
Merritt frowned and stared at him silently for a few seconds before remembering the second statement.
— Then what about the second one?
Daniel shrugged casually, as though it weren’t weird at all. Dylan knew several languages too, after all.
— True.
— You know four languages? — Lula sat up straighter in shock. — And speak Russian like a native?
— Exactly. German, Spanish, Russian and Italian. I’ve spoken Russian for a very long time now. Since I was around sixteen, probably.
— And how did that even happen? Why would you decide to learn Russian like a native speaker?
— It was a long time ago. I had a… friend who spoke it perfectly, and things just kind of happened that way.
Jack watched him more carefully than usual, as if waiting for Daniel to suddenly admit it was all a joke. But he didn’t.
— And the first one?
A second — or maybe a minute — of silence passed before Daniel answered. He tilted his head, scratched the back of his neck and said:
— That one was the lie. I don’t really like classical music. I prefer old rock. My favorite band is The Beatles, and my favorite artists are Billy Joel and David Bowie.
— You like ROCK? — Jack asked in disbelief. The situation was becoming more absurd by the second. Was this even their Daniel anymore? — You literally embody classical music.
— I’ve always thought rock was better. Easier to think to, — Daniel answered shortly.
— Why did you have to perform? — Lula blurted out. She’d been obsessing over those words ever since he said them. — You said “to survive.” What do you mean survive?
Daniel slowly turned his head, then let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his curly hair as if trying to calm himself.
— We had a deal. No questions.
She reluctantly fell silent, but it was already too late. Something had shifted. Merritt was looking at him differently now. Not with his usual irony, but with something deeper. Dylan hadn’t taken his eyes off him once.
— My turn’s over, — Daniel said almost casually, picking up his cup again. — Who’s next?
───
They continued playing and the laughter returned to the room. Almost returned. Because now there was a crack in it, and everyone could feel it.
Especially Dylan.
He watched Daniel, who had slipped right back into being himself again — calm, composed, detached, as if nothing had happened. But Dylan knew better now. He understood Daniel hid his emotions behind a mask. Because he’d seen that moment — that split second when it hadn’t been an act.
Later, during the third round, Merritt suggested making the game harder by switching to three truths and one lie since the Horsemen no longer expected anything surprising from each other. Daniel began his turn.
— Alright, first… — he paused for only a second before continuing. — I can play eight musical instruments, and drums are my favorite.
Merritt frowned immediately, already convinced that had to be the lie, but Daniel continued.
— I graduated school at fifteen — all twelve grades — and started university the same year.
That was… unexpected. Sure, Daniel was smart, but this information suggested he might actually be a genius.
— I got kicked out of my house at fourteen because I wasn’t good enough or “right” enough for my family.
Everyone visibly tensed. Dylan, who had finally relaxed after the first round, looked at Daniel with doubt again. Daniel noticed the stares and became slightly uncomfortable, though he refused to show it.
— And lastly, — he glanced at all their worried faces before finishing. — I love coffee. Like, really love coffee.
Heavy silence filled the room. A minute passed. Maybe longer. Much longer.
Finally Merritt spoke, though his expression still held uncertainty and pity.
— Well… — he stopped halfway, debating whether he should even say anything. Then continued anyway. — I think the third one is the lie. About getting kicked out. Because I know you’re incredibly smart. It would just be… horrible to throw out a child for “having no talent,” especially when the talent is obviously there.
Lula suddenly jumped up and looked down at Daniel sitting on the floor. She studied him carefully, trying to figure out where he could be lying.
— The instruments are the lie. I can’t believe drums are your favorite. You look more like a violin guy.
— Honestly, he doesn’t even seem musical, — Merritt added quickly, trying to lighten the mood, but Jack interrupted him.
— So we all just accepted that he entered university at fifteen? — Jack asked in disbelief, glancing between Lula, Merritt and finally Dylan. — Seriously, isn’t that a little too genius-level?
Dylan stayed quiet for several seconds before finally speaking.
— I think that’s actually true. — His eyes fixed on Daniel calmly drinking tea on the floor. — Honestly, everything here sounds fake, but we all know what Daniel is capable of.
— Exactly! — Lula jumped back into the conversation. — J. Daniel Atlas has only been studied at like… three percent. Maybe even less.
— So? Have you decided yet? — Daniel asked so casually it sounded like he was getting bored enough to fall asleep.
— I think the third one is the lie. About being kicked out, — Dylan answered first. He still couldn’t believe it.
— Unfortunately, that one’s true. The lie is that I love coffee.
The room suddenly felt too small. Silence pressed down on all of them, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing. It felt like the world itself had stopped moving.
Then Merritt quietly asked:
— They… kicked you out at fourteen, Danny?
His voice was gentle. Too gentle for someone like Merritt.
Daniel didn’t answer immediately — not because he didn’t know how, but because he didn’t want it to sound like self-pity or reveal too much.
— Yeah. They did. — He looked at the team, watching the pain and sympathy on their faces. — My parents kicked me out because out of all five of their children, I was the only one without talent. Or maybe I just annoyed them. I lived on the streets from fourteen onward, and at sixteen, after my first semester at university, they gave me housing with three other guys.
He paused briefly before adding:
— And yes, like you guessed, I graduated at fifteen and got into university immediately after.
The Horsemen stared at him in complete shock. An hour ago none of them could have imagined this about him, much less expected him to admit it himself.
The room was dead silent until Dylan shifted slightly in his chair and asked:
— And the rest? Your favorite instrument is really drums? And coffee? Seriously? You drink it constantly.
Daniel smiled at Dylan’s obvious curiosity and answered easily:
— Well, I started learning instruments when I was a kid. I can play acoustic and electric guitar, drums, bass, harmonica, piano, flute and violin. — He paused, noticing the tension in the room easing slightly. — And as for coffee, I don’t like it. I just drink it because otherwise I have zero energy. I’ve always preferred tea.
Daniel looked at his now-empty cup before glancing back at the Horsemen, who were honestly stunned by everything they had just learned about their friend and teammate.
Jack was the first to speak.
— Well, now you’re obligated to play something for us. At least guitar.
— You know, I actually have a habit of carrying a harmonica everywhere with me, — Daniel replied, crawling toward his bag beside the couch. He rummaged around for a moment, quickly pulled out a harmonica, then shoved it back in again just as fast. — But I’m not playing right now.
Jack was already about to protest, but Merritt grabbed his arm immediately and stopped him. Because now definitely wasn’t the time. They could deal with that later.
Heavy silence settled over the room again, and Daniel waited for some kind of reaction. Anything. At this point even pity didn’t seem like the worst outcome anymore.
Lula was the first to break. She jumped off the couch and practically tackled Daniel into a hug, squeezing him so tightly it probably hurt.
Right after her, Jack joined in. Then Merritt and Dylan, neither of whom were especially tactile people, but both still choosing to support their friend.
— So that’s why you had to perform? — Lula asked softly. She knew she shouldn’t push the subject, but she couldn’t help herself. — Because they kicked you out…
— Lula, you’re crushing me, — Daniel exhaled quietly, trying to breathe before continuing more seriously. — Yeah. Things were… really bad. I spent two years on the streets, but eventually things got better. And after that I never spoke to them again.
Merritt gently and awkwardly smacked Daniel lightly on the head a few times before saying with the most sincere smile imaginable:
— They didn’t deserve you. No kid deserves that, Atlas.
— Agreed. They were idiots for kicking you out, — Jack added, trying to comfort him.
— Thanks, but I got over it a long time ago, — Daniel answered calmly and sincerely. — I don’t even think about them anymore. Honestly, who would I be if they hadn’t kicked me out? A lawyer? No thanks. I like this life better.
Dylan smiled to himself. Yeah, Danny absolutely loved being an illusionist and performer. It was his calling. Though Dylan was certain he would’ve made an incredible lawyer too, he was glad Daniel had chosen magic instead.
───
After some time, all the Horsemen drifted off to their rooms. Naturally, everyone was still processing the new information about the great J. Daniel Atlas. None of them even knew what to think anymore. They never would’ve imagined he’d once been homeless or entered university so young.
Dylan still sat in the living room thinking about it. Finally he stood and walked quickly toward Daniel’s door. When he reached it, he hesitated for a second, as if carefully considering his words. But eventually he knocked and opened the door a moment later.
Inside, Daniel was lying on the bed reading a book.
— Can I come in? — Dylan asked uncertainly, as though he feared being thrown out despite knowing Daniel probably wouldn’t push him away right now.
Daniel lifted his eyes from the book and looked at him. He was wearing reading glasses, and Dylan realized it was the first time he’d ever seen Daniel in them. It was… strangely adorable, especially for someone like him.
— Yeah. Did you need something?
Dylan stood by the door for a second, simply looking at the man on the bed before finally stepping inside. He moved closer and said clearly:
— Nothing specific. — He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. — You know you can talk to me if you ever need to, right?
Daniel only smiled warmly at him, looking directly into his eyes with such genuine softness that it barely even felt like Danny anymore.
— Yeah, Dylan. I know. You’ve already made that clear. Thank you.
Daniel was surprisingly calm… kind… not sarcastic? In general, not himself in the usual sense. But Dylan could see the sincerity in his words.
He smiled back, turned around and headed for the exit. Right before leaving, without turning back, he whispered:
— You should be proud of yourself, kid.
Then he walked out, closing the wooden door behind him.
Dylan didn’t know whether Daniel had heard him or not, but he understood that the boy already knew. Because this house and the Horsemen were the only place where Danny was truly valued for who he was, not for what people could gain from him.