I’d read about things like this before, fairy magic, glamour. But I wasn’t a fairy and the only glamour I’d seen in action was on glossy magazine covers. This was too real, frightening…and god damn it I loved it. I’d been ordinary before, a little bit weird some would say but still in the great scheme of things…ordinary. I got up in the morning went to my job and then came back to my unit which I shared with three other 20 somethings. A couple, and a law student who like me where mostly out of the house during the day.
I didn’t have many friends and my family lived a state away, which in the scheme of things was probably a blessing. No one to answer to when I started disappearing for days on end. And where did I go? I was testing out my new power of course.
See glamour is a neat little trick. You can change your face, conjure anything out of thin air. Money, an umbrella, a card…yes I might have been stuck at the pokies for a few days last week trying that particular trick, until I was banned. Apparently they don’t like it when you start inexplicably winning 9 times out of ten. Fortunately I had the foresight to change my face, so the ban wouldn’t stick. I’d make sure to lose at least half the time to ensure I went under the radar next time.
But I’d moved on, more things to try; more money to pilfer. I know, I know, it’s wrong. My law student roommate would probably turn me in if she knew, my father would probably kick my ass. I’d had these morals compounded into me my whole upbringing: stealing is wrong, getting ahead of yourself is wrong, talking back to your boss is wrong, sex…don’t even bring up sex. And so on. But it was in those moments I was able to discard of my own identity and assumed a new one that I realised, I was just being held back. No one wanted me to succeed, my friends, my family, society itself wanted me to remain beneath them; a selfless mindless slave. If I did that, there would be more for themselves, less competition. Now I didn’t have to, now I could take what I wanted and be damned with the consequences, and why shouldn’t I? Who is to say I deserved these things less than others? I wasn’t hurting anyone by taking anyway, I never put a gun to anyone’s head...
So I kept on going, I took more things. I became more creative, bolder. I eventually managed to get my own apartment, a car and a parking space (A parking space! A luxury in the city I live in). I’d glamour my whole outfit on some mornings, walking outside with nothing on but my underwear beneath the illusion of a fantastic Yves Saint Laurent imitation get-up, aviators and all.
It was on a day like this that I met him. The super super handsome awesome...no the italicsnumbskull who was going to rain on my parade and literally and otherwise expose me. Not cool.
I was at starbucks on a chilly November morning, having a pumpkin spiced latte (No I don’t give a fuck if you think that’s effeminate. They taste good damn it.) When this guy, who looked like a comic-con runaway just barges in and knocks it out of my hand. It spills on my chest and unfortunately my glamour is not enough to stop it from burning my naked chest like all hell. And suddenly the guy is gripping my collarbone in a crushing vice grip and wheeling me outside away from the gasps of horror and snickering? I am pretty sure someone snickered. Oh god I think looking down. My pumpkin spiced latte isn’t the only thing he knocked away. My glamour is gone too and I’m standing around, in my tighty whities and scuffed converse on the sidewalk.
“W-who the fuck are you?” I ask through chattering teeth.