A couple of years he has had passed since that fateful night. Luke, now in his early twenties, sat in a small, dimly lit interrogation room at the local police station. The harsh fluorescent light buzzed overhead, casting stark shadows on the grey walls. His hands, marked with callouses from years of street performance and theft, were cuffed to the table in front of him. Despite his calm exterior, his mind raced, calculating his next move.
Across from him, two police officers sat, flipping through a thin folder that held the record of his past offences. One officer, a burly man with a gruff demeanour, leaned forward.
"You know, Lucas, this isn't your first time here. We know you were trying to steal. You might as well come clean."
Luke's eyes, sharp and alert, met the officer's gaze.
"I already told you. I didn't steal anything," he replied coolly, his voice steady. Years of perfecting his craft he had taught him how to remain calm under pressure.
"We've got witnesses, Luke. You're a repeat offender. We know your tricks," the other officer, a younger man with a sceptical expression, spoke up.
"Witnesses? Tricks? Come on, officers, if you had any real evidence, you'd be booking me, not questioning me," Luke smirked, leaning back in his chair.
"You think you're clever, huh? You're nothing but a street rat. Living off what you can steal, never contributing anything. Your magic tricks won't get you out of this one," the burly officer slammed his hand on the table, causing the folder to flutter.
Luke's smirk faded. He was all too aware of the harsh reality of his situation. After his parents' house had been sold to cover their debts, living in the streets had grown on him. His street magic performances, while occasionally lucrative, were not enough to sustain him. Desperation had driven him to use his sleight of hand for more than just entertainment.
"Look," Luke said, his tone more serious now. "I didn't steal anything tonight. You know how this goes. You detain me, scare me a bit, then let me go when you can't pin anything on me."
"We should lock you up for good. You're a menace," the younger officer shook his head.
"You say that every time, and yet, here we are. Still no charges, still no evidence," Luke chuckled softly.
"This isn't over. We'll be watching you. One slip, and you'll be behind bars for a long time," the officers exchanged a frustrated glance before the burly one stood up, looming over Luke.
"Understood. Can I go now?" Luke nodded, the amusement gone from his eyes.
With a reluctant sigh, the younger officer uncuffed Luke and motioned for him to leave. As Luke walked out of the station, he felt the familiar weight of uncertainty settles on his shoulders. The streets awaited him, harsh and unforgiving as ever. But he had survived this long, and he wasn't about to give up now.
Outside, the night was cool and quiet. Luke pulled his jacket tighter around him and started down the empty sidewalk. He had no home to return to, and no family waiting for him. The only constants in his life were the tricks he had perfected and the streets he knew so well. As he walked, he couldn't help but wonder how much longer he could keep up this dangerous game of cat and mouse with the law.
Luke's footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, the cool night air brushing against his face. As he rounded a corner, his smartphone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, recognizing the familiar number. Mrs. Williams. Her name brought a mix of feelings, from gratitude to unease.
With a deep breath, he answered the call.
"Hello, Mrs. Williams."
"Luke, I just got off the phone with the police station," her voice came through, tinged with concern. "They told me you were detained again. What happened?"
Luke sighed, glancing around to ensure no one was watching him.
"It's nothing, Mrs. Williams. Just a misunderstanding. They didn't have any evidence, so they let me go."
"I worry about you, Luke. You can't keep living like this. You know that, right?"
He didn't respond immediately, his mind wandering to the smartphone in his hand. This phone had been a constant in his life since that fateful night with his parents. It had been his father's, an unintended gift from their final, violent quarrel. His mother had thrown it, shattering the screen, and while they continued their fight, Luke had taken it. He couldn't remember how many times he'd repaired it, patching it up just as he did with his life.
"Luke?" Mrs. Williams's voice broke through his reverie.
"Yeah, I know," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "But you don't need to worry. I didn't do anything wrong."
"That's not the point. I promised to help you, and I intend to keep that promise. But you need to meet me halfway. These tricks and street performances are only going to get you into more trouble."
Luke felt a pang of guilt. Mrs Williams had always been there, offering help and support when no one else did. But he couldn't allow himself to depend on her. Attachment had only brought him pain and disappointment. Trusting people had never ended well for him, from teachers to classmates who had all turned their backs on him.
"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Mrs. Williams, but I've got it under control. Really," he insisted.
"Luke, you can't keep shutting people out. You don't have to face everything alone. Let me help you. Let's find a way to get you off the streets. You deserve a better life than this."
Her words were kind, but Luke's heart was hardened by years of neglect and betrayal.
"Magic is all I have," he said firmly. "It's the only thing that keeps me sane. The only thing that makes sense."
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
"I understand that it's important to you, but it doesn't have to be your whole life. There are other ways to find happiness, other ways to build a future."
"This is my life, Mrs. Williams. I've made my peace with it," Luke shook his head, even though she couldn't see him.
"Alright, Luke. Just... promise me you'll be careful. And if you ever need anything, anything at all, you know how to reach me," a sigh came through the phone.
"I will," he replied, his voice softer. "Thanks, Mrs. Williams."
As he ended the call, he stared at the phone for a moment longer, feeling the weight of his decisions. Mrs Williams was right—he deserved a better life. But the path to it seemed impossibly out of reach. For now, all he had was his magic, the one constant in his chaotic world. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and continued walking, the city lights flickering like distant stars, guiding him through the darkness.
Luke knew he wasn't being fair to her. She had given him more chances than anyone else ever had. She believed in him, and part of him hated himself for not being able to meet her halfway. But every time he thought about trying to change, about reaching out and accepting her help, something inside him pulled back. It was as if he was chained to his past, unable to break free.
It wasn't that he didn't want to change. It was that he didn't believe he could. The scars of his childhood, the neglect, the betrayals—they were all still there, deep and raw. Mrs. Williams's kindness was a light in his darkness, but he was afraid to reach for it, afraid it would disappear like everything else.
He continued walking, the city lights flickering like distant stars, guiding him through the darkness. He knew he was being stubborn, but this was all he knew. This was his life, for better or worse. And until he found a way to truly trust, to truly believe in a better future, he would keep walking this path alone.
The city buzzed with life around him, but he felt detached as if he were merely a ghost drifting through the chaos. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, feeling the familiar sensation of the worn cards and small trinkets he always carried with him. They were his tools, his lifeline, and the only companions he trusted.
As he passed by a bustling café, he glanced inside and saw people laughing, sharing stories, and enjoying each other's company. A pang of longing hit him, but he quickly pushed it aside. He couldn't afford to indulge in fantasies of a life he believed was out of his reach.
His mind wandered back to Mrs. Williams. Despite his defiance, he couldn't deny that her unwavering support had kept him from falling deeper into despair. But he was afraid to rely on her too much, afraid that if he did, he would lose the only semblance of control he had over his life. Independence, even in its harshest form, was all he had ever known.
With each step, the weight of his past and the uncertainty of his future seemed to blur into one endless journey. Luke tightened his grip on the small, precious items in his pockets, feeling their comforting presence. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but for now, he would keep moving forward, one step at a time, clutching onto his magic and the fragile hope that somehow, some way, he could carve out a place for himself in this unforgiving world.