viii

Nodding, you grin as he leaves. Finally, you've found some place where you aren't a burden. You exit the building, and see Jaxx on his mo-ped waiting for you. Hopping on the back and putting on the helmet he hands you, he revvs the engine. "How was work?" he yells over the roar of the wind rushing past your hair.

"Fun," you say. "I like lights."

Jaxx snorts. "Yeah, I already knew that." He speeds up, weaving through an intersection without stopping. "You have to keep up with your schoolwork, though." Jaxx never failed to bring up your schooling. You nodded anyways, not wanting to stop your job.

On the day of your first paycheck, you grinned and asked Jaxx if he could take you to the bank.

"Sure, we'll set you up a bank account." You now had a bank account with the name Lucy Cartwright attached to it, along with a shiny new debit card to go with it. You stuck it in your back pocket, and when you got home, everyone was asleep. It was an hour until they started working. Jaxx had gone to one of his writing classes (which no one else but you knew he took; you had a peek at his book calender, he claims to everyone he's going to the library) which meant you were all alone. You set your red notebook down, saying to yourself you were going to figure out the lighting for Act IV in a little while. Sitting down at one of the computers, you opened your bank's website.

Breathing heavily, you entered in the code for hacking into it you learned a by accident a while ago. You gulp as you find your newly formed bank account. It had all of the information on it right there, about you, about your monetary amount. Fingers trembling, you enter in more codes and keys.

Soon, you figure out how to add money into your account.

This is dangerous, you could be tossed in jail. This is no longer petty theft, this pure stealing.

Somehow, you are more tempted by the prospect of accomplishing such a feat that you ignore all of the outcomes.

Soon, you have $800,000 attached to your name. Not too much, not more than one million. It might have drawn suspicion.

"Thief?" Tio is stirring, rubbing his eyes and sitting up from the couch. "Are you home from work?"

Working quickly, you erase your steps, just like Jaxx taught you. You are sure there is no evidence connecting you to this. "Yes," you say in a monotone voice, turning around.

"Good," Tio says, ruffling your hair. "Let's go up to the roof and practice."

"Okay."

You are the Thief, and you are finally proving this.

~*~

It is opening night of the play you are teching for. The Five are all there, even if when you told them numerous times they shouldn't feel obligated to go just because you did the lights.

"Come on, we wouldn't miss your obsession for the world, kiddo," Tio said.

You can't see them, you are back in your booth, double checking that everything was a-okay. And it was, until-

"Lucy!" Ash says, bursting into the light booth, arms flailing. "The main spotlight operator has come down with an awful strain of the flu! The backups are on the catwalk spotlights!" He pants, pointing at you dramatically. You pull your headset mike down to hear him better, raising an eyebrow.

"And?" you ask, unable to follow his speech.

"You have to operate the spotlight."

"But I do not know how," you say simply, turning back to the light board. Ash sighs, tugging on your arm.

"Please? We need you. I can pull up your cues on the computer and do that job. Please?" he stares up at you with wide eyes, clasping his hands together.

No one has ever needed you before. You freeze, contemplating if whether or not you could suddenly figure out how to use a spotlight in approximately three and two-sixths minutes. It didn't seem too hard.

"Okay," you say.

With that, you are placed in front of a spotlight, standing on your feet and having to watch Sir William Alexander the Fifth perform obnoxiously and loudly. From your position, you can see Let flinch and moan at his performance. At least he is trying. You would never be brave enough to let people stare at your odd hair color and mock your acting ability. You train the spotlight on him, and turn on the switch. Instantly, the heat burns at your hands. The light is powerful and all concentrated in one position. It is itching to be controlled by you, to be all knowing in your hands, at your fingertips. The air in the cramped position you are in clogs your lungs, and you cough once, which interrupts Sir William Alexander the Fifth's performance. He clears his throat, and begins again. It is dark back where you are, all light focused on the stage.

It's so hard to resist.

Your fingers are tingling, practically begging to control it.

You start to feel very claustrophobic. Everyone is watching and paying attention to what is happening onstage, though here you are, chest tightening, sweat forming on your brow. What is wrong with you? Everything is okay. You can practice the light later. You haven't practiced in two weeks, but so what? You'll have time later. Just ignore all of the light just out of reach.

Entire body starting to tingle, the room feels like it is closing in on you. Your breaths are short and rapid, and finally, you just can't take it anymore.

Your hands take control, and grab the energy from every light in the room, tugging it towards you and feeling the excess power at your fingertips. Your mind panics, it knows there is no way it could control that.

Everyone screams, watching the energy whip through the air, slide down the aisles and swirl around your body. Your eyes fill with the particles, becoming a pure white, and your hands glow. You've never had this much light to control. Never. People stand agawk, staring at the monstrosity that is you. Your mind bows out.

"Thief? THIEF!" Cole calls from the audience, and The Five race over to you, but the light is creating a barrier, the colors dancing around and preventing anyone from touching you.

It is all too much.

Your entire body illuminates with the light, and everything around you is pitch dark. The screeches eventually dissolve into the background, and you are dragged down into the floor as it all consumes you. Closing your eyes, the light swallows you whole, and you fade to black.

You are the Thief of Light.

~*~

Author's Note

This will be developed and fleshed out much more. Oh, so much to do, so much to edit!