At the top of this chapter is Justin

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Back to the present...

Back in the day, I really had it rough. My sister was a rich, famous 'psychic' while I was an eighth grader. That's right, a plain old ordinary fourteen-year-old boy attending a normal, run-of-the-mill school. Any special recognition I received was given due to the fact that I was a celebrity's brother. This kind of attention was even worse than no regard at all.

And that wasn't even the worst part.

For a major portion of my early life, I was forced to depend on someone I hated for my pocket money. Well, maybe I didn't hate her that much. After all, she could afford to give me twenty dollars whenever I needed it, and she supposedly saved me from drowning when I was little.

Well, supposedly, that is. You see, I didn't believe in all this 'psychic' junk. I was sure that there was a very logical explanation for Claire's powers, and I planned to figure out what it was and expose her to the world. Don't get me wrong- it was nothing personal- just my innate need to prove people wrong. That and the fact that Claire was, well...Claire. I was more than a little proud of my scientific prowess, and the fact that I could solve nearly every problem except that of my own sister did not sit well with me. The knowledge that I was utterly and totally clueless about the situation was like a tiny, nagging voice at the back of my head. It spoke up to taunt me every time Claire enchanted an adoring audience, or performed an impossible trick.

I had been doing some research, but no matter what I tried, I was drawing a blank. Even the darkest reaches of the Internet, which I had carefully combed through at the ends of several consecutive late Friday nights, contained no clues to my problem's solution. There seemed to be no answer to how she made bullies stop bullying, criminals stop stealing, and me stop yelling- which was, in my opinion, the worst part about her powers- with a flick of her hand. However, I was sure that there was one. Despite all her money and fans, the only difference between her and a birthday party magician was that she had a cooler secret and she was better at keeping it. I had cracked so many magic shows in my life that I'd lost count and surely, with time and patience, I could crack this one, too.

As I quietly plotted to unveil her darkest secrets, Claire prepared to do a show in a fancy theater located near our house. She had just come back from the second world tour of her life, and she was being really snobby about it. It had been about five minutes since the show was supposed to start, and she was still bowing left and right and sashaying down the stage in her sparkly black dress.

The theater was completely dark, save the focused spotlight that shone down on my sister, following her in her continuous, figure-eight path across and around the stage. She walked to the very front of the platform, getting down on her knees to high-five a few of the people in the front row of seats. Many of them frantically pulled out their phones, raising them in the air in an attempt to snap a selfie with Claire King, while others grabbed at my sister's hand. Even through this chaotic flood of events, she did not retract her hand, and her smile never wavered

She will never change.

Claire lingered at the front of the stage for the perfect amount of time: enough to show that she enjoyed being around her fans, but not so long that the audience grew restless. At the end of what was, according to my precise watch, a solid two minutes, she stood up and returned to the center of the stage, the spotlight following her the whole way. She waited patiently for the announcement that would signal the beginning of her two-hour block of show time, adjusting her microphone and smiling for the million cameras that were now focused on her.

The confidence she seemed to have in the security of her secret only fueled my determination to show her that she was not invincible. She was human, just like the rest of us. There was no reason to consider her to be any different simply because of a chance encounter at a swimming pool.

"Hello, everyone! Please welcome the spectacular, Claire King!" the much-anticipated announcement came on over the loudspeaker. The reaction was nearly instantaneous. Everyone in the audience started hooting and hollering, and some even threw pieces of popcorn, Claire King playing cards, and other random paraphernalia pertaining to my sister into the air.

What idiots.

"Thank you, thank you," Claire bowed for the millionth time as the stage went dark and a deep purple spotlight appeared, replacing the previous whitish light before focusing on her. She held up her microphone and approached the front of the stage once again, this time to be better heard by her audience. The sequins on her black dress glittered as she walked, reflecting the color of the spotlight to produce a magical effect.

Her body language practically oozed confidence and likeability. Her smile widened with every passing second, and my frown deepened at the same rate.

"Hello, everyone! I'm so thrilled that so many of you were willing to come out tonight and make this show an unforgettable one. It's people like you who inspire to wake up each day with new resolve to use my powers to make the world a better place. However, I'm not naive enough to think that everyone here is here to support me. Now, I'd like to know who thinks I'm a fake. All of you old non-believers who came here to laugh at how famous a charlatan can get; I would like you to please stand up."

What?

She had never done anything like this before! Usually, my sister refused to even acknowledge the fact that the entire universe didn't worship her. The fact that her shows normally followed a very predictable pattern only added to the oddity of this statement: an apparent outlier. I scrutinized her face, looking for some kind of a sign that what she had said was directed at me, but saw nothing. In fact, I wasn't even sure if she knew that I was in the theater.

Yes! It was just a general question! That would make it even more hilarious if I stood up...

"Go on, I know some of you are here. I won't be offended." Claire shrugged in that annoying, cute little way of hers, her dark brown curls bouncing around her shoulders. That was the only reassurance I needed.

Giving her my classic wink – even though I knew she couldn't see who I was from all the way up there – I stood up as proud as I could. I quickly glanced around the theater, to find I was the only one up. Some of Claire's die-hard fans were even giving me appalled looks.

"Alright, guy in the back, come on up!" Claire yelled enthusiastically.

Yes! This was my chance to observe her show from up close. My chance to figure out her trick!

I began to slowly and painstakingly make my way through the maze of purses and soda cans that littered the darkened floor, dodging an occasional outstretched leg as I stumbled awkwardly toward the carpeted center aisle.

When I ran up onto the stage and into the light, Claire's smile seemed to drop right off her face. "Justin! What do you think you're doing?" she hissed into my ear, ducking behind the back of my head for a moment so that her angry expression wasn't visible to the audience. Even under the most unexpected of circumstances, my sister always put her image first. It was like she lived her entire life under an unbreakable facade.

"I'm just being your good little brother," I smirked.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the audience. After all, the one and only Claire King can't afford to waste time talking to her brother in the presence of her all-important fans. "Everyone, meet my brother, Justin King. He doesn't trust my abilities, but tonight, I shall make him believe!"

The audience roared in anticipation, and my stomach flipped. I was sure that whatever my sister had planned for me wasn't going to go well.

"What's that smile for?" I asked Claire, my eyes widening with fear.

"I'm anticipating the satisfaction of turning you into a goat in front of all your friends."

"WHAT?" I yelled in a whispered tone. An unflattering image of a goat flashed through my mind. I turned around to make a run for it, but Claire stopped me with one of her teenage girl giggle fits. To anyone offstage, it appeared as if we were simply engaging in lighthearted banter.

Claire is a genius.

"Gosh, I'm just kidding. I can't even do that! My power only allows for the manipulation of people's actions and fates, not manipulation of their physical form. And besides, you shouldn't be scared. You don't believe in my powers, remember?"

Oops. "No, I don't, and I never will," I confirmed.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that." Claire smiled before making her next announcement to the audience. "Tonight, I'm going to do something that has never been done before. I'm going to make this boy fly — without wires."