Anastasia’s usual experience was in losing people. She wasn’t exactly sure how to feel now that she had gotten someone back.

It was the night of April 1st. There was a light drizzle. Pietro was by her side, holding an umbrella over them as they walked down the sidewalks of downtown Portland.

“It figures something like this would have to happen today,” Anastasia laughed. She held her camera in front of her, her finger rested gently on the shutter button. “Well… when it comes to rain, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“That’s the one thing that doesn’t change about this city,” Pietro said. He was wearing a sweatshirt. A baseball cap protruded from the top of his hood. It was somehow reassuring to see that his style of dress hadn’t changed much.

“Yeah, maybe the only thing that doesn’t,” Anastasia said. “There are a lot more lights now,” she pointed up at a neon sign as they passed under it.

“I’ve only been gone for a few years and look how many more people there are,” Pietro said.

“More and more refugees from California have ended up coming here. The city is developing really quickly,” Anastasia lifted her camera to her eye and snapped a picture of Pietro from the side. “You’ve changed too, you know. Manlier, maybe.”

“Guess so,” he said.

Anastasia smiled.

They made their way past a large screen attached to a building. “Officials believe that the 15 second stop may have been an aftershock of the incident earlier today in which a section of downtown Portland reportedly stopped moving for a total of 8 minutes,” A news anchor said.

“Did you hear about what happened today?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Pietro said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Everyone on Clock Link is posting about it.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“Speaking of which,” Anastasia pouted. “Why didn’t you make an account? I could have seen pictures from Italy, or at least kept in touch with you easier.”

“My grandparents didn’t even have a computer,” he said. “Besides, sites like that are a pain in the ass. I’m not going to post everything that I’m doing. And I’m betting you post hundreds of pictures every day.”

“That’s me. You wouldn’t have to do that,” she pulled her camera away protectively. “You could have just kept your profile completely blank and sent me a message every once and a while. Maybe see what I was up to.”

“Well it’s a little late for that.”

“Jerk,” she nudged him with her elbow. “So what did you get me?”

“You think I’m the type to bring back souvenirs?” he asked.

“I take back what I said,” Anastasia frowned. “You’re the same.”

They continued down the sidewalk. Despite the rain, it was still packed. There still seemed to be police around too.

“How’s college?” Pietro asked.

“It’s good,” she couldn’t help sounding a little sad as the words left her mouth. “I’m almost finished.”

When they were in high school, Pietro had gotten in with the wrong people. He started to get in fights and skipping class. Despite her best efforts to help, he dropped out during his senior year. Things reached their boiling point with his family, and they sent him to live with his grandparents in Italy. She didn’t want to focus on that. There were happier things to reminisce about.

“Do you remember the time I lost this?” she asked, holding up the camera next to her cheek.

“How could I forget,” Pietro sighed.

“You helped me look for it, you big softie.”

“As if I had a choice,” he said. “You cried about it all day.”

“Well I still remember how seriously you searched,” she smiled. “You were running all over the school.”

“You trying to embarrass me?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she giggled.

Pietro had been there for her for what felt like her whole life. He had chased off bullies in elementary school. In junior high, he had been there for her when her parents died. It wasn’t until he left for Italy, and her grandmother passed away, that Anastasia had felt truly alone. He had left without saying goodbye. Despite this, she couldn’t help smiling when she looked to her side. Being next to him felt natural.

They reached the train station, which meant that their night together was over. They stopped near the front entrance of the building, which was flooded with people coming and going.

“Let’s do this again soon,” she said. “You can’t ignore me now that you’re back here for good.”

“We should,” he said, holding out the umbrella to her.

“You use it,” she said. “My apartment is close to the station I get off at.”

He paused for a moment, then let the closed umbrella hang down at his side. “Alright.”

“Goodnight,” she said, taking another picture of him.

“That better not end up on Clock… whatever.”

“You wouldn’t even know if it did,” she stuck out her tongue.

Pietro went past the ticket gate, disappearing into the throng of people heading to the various train platforms.

Anastasia sighed and turned away from the station. Despite whatever had happened in the city that night, it hadn’t changed its beauty. It hadn’t ruined her night out.

She lifted her camera up, but stopped as she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Next to her was a tall woman in a pea coat, stockings, and sunglasses, all black. She was walking past her from the station, and had stepped wrong in her high heels. Now, she was tumbling forward set to do a face plant on the concrete.

Without thinking, Anastasia let go of her camera, extending her arm outward toward the woman. A light breeze blew her hair and for an instant, she felt something well up inside her starting at her shoulder and ending at the tip of her index finger. An invisible force stopped the woman less than an inch from the ground.

This was bad. She had just used magic in public. To people nearby, it probably still looked like the woman had still fallen. However, the woman herself would know that she had been stopped by something. She turned to run, but then it hit her. She had dropped her camera.

“Nooooooo!” she cried, falling to her knees. She scooped it up from the ground, frantically inspecting it.

“Are you alright?” A man came to the woman’s side.

“What?” her sunglasses had fallen off of her face. “Oh, I’m fine. I seem to have caught myself.”

Anastasia spotted a scuffmark on the bottom of her camera. It hadn’t survived the fall unscathed. She sat with her mouth hanging wide open, her eyes unblinking.

“Aren’t you, um, aren’t you…” the man stammered. “Oh my god!” The people around them caught ear and their voices rang out as they took out their phones.

Anastasia felt someone grab her arm and yanked her to her feet. “Let’s go,” they whispered.

Then she was being pulled through the crowds of people. It was so sudden that she almost dropped her camera again. Ahead of her, the woman held onto her arm tightly. How in the world was she running this fast in high heels? It felt like they were being carried more than it felt like they were sprinting.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

They darted onto a side street and into a building marked ‘Peace Café’, where they came to an abrupt stop. The woman turned smiling, pressing her finger to her lips, silently shushing her.

Anastasia wouldn’t have been able to talk regardless. She came to understand what it meant to be ‘star struck’. The blonde woman holding her arm wasn’t just any blonde woman. This blonde woman was Sadie Quasar.

Reaching into her pea coat, Sadie pulled out a large pair of pink sunglasses. “Let’s order something and sit down,” she said.

In an attempt to respond, Anastasia let out a strange noise from her mouth, sort of a half squeal, half ‘huh’. Not exactly the coolest thing to do in front of someone famous, but that’s all she could manage.

They walked up to the front counter. The café was well lit and the hardwood floors glowed beneath them like they had just been shined. Standing on the other side of the counter was a man in his twenties in a white button up shirt, black slacks and a vest. His nametag read “Sebastian”. He was only a jacket away from looking like a butler.

Behind him was a pigtailed girl wearing the same uniform. “Hello,” she said. Her nametag read “Manami”.

This place looked expensive. If she had been passing by it on the street, she wouldn’t have even considered coming in. Now, she was standing here next to one of the most famous people Clock Link had produced.

“Pick anything you want, it’s my treat,” Sadie said. “I’ll have warm milk tea.”

Anastasia looked up at the menu that hung on the wall behind the counter. “Is this real?” she turned to Sadie. “Is this real life?”

“Uhh, she’ll have a milk tea too,” Sadie said. “And we’ll each have a slice of the lemon meringue pie.”

“No coffee?” The man behind the counter was glaring at them.

“No coffee,” Sadie replied.

The man clenched his fist and grit his teeth. “No… coffee?”

“Sebastian!” the girl behind the counter yelled. She slammed into him from the side, then began loudly scolded him in Japanese. “Kora! Koohii nomitakunakattara ii deshou!?”

“Don’t worry,” Sadie said. “They’re always this way.”

“I… see,” Anastasia choked out.

The almost butler sulked over to the tea tins. Mumbling something to himself, he started taking things down from the shelf.

“I’m sorry about that,” Manami smiled. “We’ll have that for you in just a moment.”

Anastasia glanced around the room as they made their way to the stairs. The café was actually fairly large and there were a number of other customers there, the majority of them in their teens. It must have been a popular place. At one table, there were men in suits speaking in what sounded like Italian. One of them was large and muscular, and seemed to be angry. His loud voice was obviously drawing attention from other tables.

“Let’s head upstairs,” Sadie said.

They reached the second floor and sat at a window table. The tables on this level were just as crowded. Voices filled the air, creating a cacophony of unconnected conversational bits and pieces.

From the window, Anastasia could still see people moving like the waves of an ocean as they came to and from the train station. On the other side of the table, Sadie was typing out something on her phone, and twirling her long hair around her index finger. Anastasia wanted to speak, but she didn’t know where to start. Everything was happening too fast.

 “Excuse me.”

Manami standing next to their table with a tray snapped Anastasia back to her senses.

“Your order is ready.” She placed the tea and pie down in front of them. Once she finished setting the table, she bowed, causing her pigtails to bounce along with the lowering of her head. After seeing her outburst at the almost-butler, it was clear that there was fierce fire burning under all that cuteness. Not a woman you wanted to be on the bad side of.

“Thank you,” Sadie smiled.

With that, Manami left and headed back downstairs.

Sadie set down her phone and picked up a spoon. “So,” she said, stirring her tea. “Thanks for saving my face back there. I was really lucky to have you there.”

Anastasia’s heart sank. She wasn’t sure how, but she had been caught red handed. Magic handed.

“I suppose I should formally introduce myself. I’m the first daughter of the Truesdale family,” Sadie said. “I’m sure you already know that, though.”

Anastasia had no idea what she was talking about in the slightest.

“Are you visiting?” Sadie brought the cup to her mouth and took a sip. “Which family are you a part of?”

“Uh… Family?” Anastasia asked.

“Don’t worry,” Sadie waved her hand. “I’m not mad that you used magic in front of all those people. I’m not strict like the elders are. Besides, you were super careful about it.”

“You’re a,” Anastasia yelled, but then lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re a magician, too?”

Sadie’s sunglasses fell down her nose, revealing her wide eyes. “Wow, I thought all the magicians in the country knew by now,” she burst out laughing, still holding the cup in her hands. “I guess I’m still not that famous. I need to get off my high horse.”

Anastasia could feel her face turning red. “Is it okay that we’re talking in public about this?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Sadie said. “I already made a bubble around us. Powerful enough that our voices will sound jumbled. Like we’re speaking a different language.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just kind of in shock,” Anastasia looked down to the camera sitting in her lap.

“Don’t worry about all that,” Sadie waved her hand in the air. “Think of me as Sadie Truesdale. Forget all that Quasar stuff.”

“No, it’s not that. Well that’s part of it but…” Anastasia stammered. “To be honest, I’ve only ever met one other magician in my life.”

“Huh?” Sadie raised her eyebrows. “Were you kept from mingling with other magicians or something?”

“No, my parents weren’t magicians or anything like that,” Anastasia said, her gaze still cast downward. “I was taught by someone when I was little.”

Sadie let her cup fall to its saucer with a clatter. “What?”

It seemed that whatever magic she had used wasn’t enough to change the sound of a clattering cup, causing people to look over in their direction. They waited a moment for people to return to their conversations before speaking again.

“You’re telling me that you weren’t born a magician?” Sadie spluttered.

“Do you have to be?” Anastasia asked.

“Yes!” Sadie said. “I’ve never heard of someone without magician’s blood learning to use magic. This is a really big deal! A huge deal!”

“I’m… sorry?”

“Well who taught you?” Sadie leaned closer across the table, which only served to make Anastasia’s heart beat even faster.

“A-a-a woman my parents worked for.”

“What’s your name?”

“A-a-Anastasia.”

“Anastasia, come with me,” Sadie said, jumping out of her seat. “You’re coming to my family’s estate.”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

“Of course!”

And just like that, she was headed to a popstar’s house. A popstar that also happened to be a magician.