Mr. Wonder

There was no feeling quite like it. Every tab, individually closed with a click of the mouse. Goodbye to the article he'd based most of his essay on, goodbye to the book he'd read half a chapter of to seem more educated. It was like deleting your enemies one by one, letting them become nothing before your very eyes.

23:19 was the time on Robbie's laptop. Thirteen hours and forty-one minutes before the deadline, he'd submitted the longest, most arduous essay he'd faced. Fucking nightmare, it was.

He leaned back in his chair, letting out one long, victorious sigh. He was done. At least until Prof. Green's essay in three weeks. For at least two weeks then, he was done. Maybe two and a half.

Now, how to celebrate?

A wank? Nah, not in the mood.

Spliff? Couldn't be arsed rolling. He always had to get the Seth Rogen video up to help. It was embarrassing.

Cig then? No, that meant outside. Robbie could deal with people, was getting good with them, but only under the right circumstances. Even now, he could hear them on early returns from pubs, houses and anywhere else they could get drunk.

A lad screamed just outside Robbie's window. There was no reason for it, of course. Drunk fuckers just felt like screaming, it seemed. Animals.

A crash. Probably the bin tipped over. Robbie hoped it wasn't the recycling. Shit in there had been piling up for weeks.

Almost unconsciously, Robbie pulled out his phone, the brightness of the screen glaring in the darkness of his room. He jammed in his earphones to the MP3 jack and thumbed the buds into his ears. Noise would only play into his left ear, but it cancelled out other noises. That was nice, might even block out some of the stampede outside.

He flopped down; a lumpy, stiff mattress caught his fall. With his phone above his head. His thumb at the bottom of the screen, Robbie began to scroll. It wasn't one of his favourite hobbies. How much could scrolling even be called a hobby? More of a pastime really. It was just something people did. Kept the head empty, like staring at a wall, just with a bit more entertainment.

Nothing interesting in subscriptions. No surprise there, Robbie had subscribed to most of those people when he was about thirteen but had never been bothered enough to unsubscribe.

Finally, something caught Robbie's eye. Mostly for the garishness of the suit the man in the thumbnail wore. It was a three-piece, with every piece being a bright orange colour. A white shirt underneath, and an even more colourful cape on top. Like a peacock's tail it was. A blend of all sorts of blues and greens with odd, round shapes that looked and shone like large cat's eyes.

Robbie didn't remember tapping the video, nor the title of it.

Around and around the incomplete circle spun, like a snake desperately trying to catch its own tail. It told Robbie to be patient, that his request would take time. Given the crap internet of Robbie's flat, this was no news to him.

First came the ad, always the ad. Unskippable. Fuck.

Oddly enough, it was an ad for the channel Robbie had clicked on. Mr Wonder, it was called, seemingly named after its star.

Ah, Robbie thought. Explains the magician's outfit.

The ad was unlike any Robbie had seen before. It began with a long shot of an open, empty stage. The seats at the front at first seemed vacant too, but at closer inspection, Robbie spotted a few heads. Well, only the backs of them. The stage curtain was opened and projected onto the wall behind was 'Mr. Wonder'. The words were styled as one would expect of a 1950s magician. All curls around the words. Bold, yellowish font.

The only sound in the ad was that of a distant ensemble. Brass, drums and wind all joined in a building symphony, slowly becoming louder and louder as the ad went on, appearing to only announce the end.

"Welcome!"

Robbie jumped a little. That was a cheap scare.

What had been a long, still shot of a stage transitioned to a close up of the titular Mr. Wonder. His closeness uncomfortable, he breathed vacantly as he watched the camera.

He was a pale man, tall and thin with a handsome face. Perhaps late thirties, early forties. The hair atop his head was covered by a pluming, garish top hat, though a thin ginger moustache like a caterpillar on his top lip betrayed the colour of his hair.

Mr Wonder's stare was perhaps the most discomforting thing about him. Blue eyes that shone like crystals pierced through the phone, invading Robbie with their unbroken stare. Neither his stare, nor his smile – a great grin of all white – faltered as Robbie watched.

"Welcome," Mr. Wonder repeated. "If you don't know me, I'm Mr. Wonder, here to grant you a little bit of anything. Now, for any new people joining, would you tell me what might I interest you in?"

Cute, Robbie thought.

"Go on," urged Mr. Wonder. "Don't be shy."

His voice was deep, smooth like caramel. It entranced Robbie in an instant. He leaned into his phone.

An awkward, silent staring contest took place between Robbie and Mr. Wonder. Mr. Wonder paused for what must have been a minute. He was interesting, strange man who'd certainly caught Robbie's eye, but the latter was not about to speak to his screen like a madman. It seemed Mr. Wonder was not taking silence for an answer.

"Alright," Mr. Wonder conceded, letting out a low, sympathetic sigh. "Let's carry on, shall we?" He propped the camera up and stepped away. He dared not look away from his viewer though. It was almost as if he was scared they might disappear.

Shit. Robbie tore his eyes away from the screen for a moment and noticed the time. Only 1AM, but he'd promised to go running tomorrow morning with Jess.

Bright and early, 5AM. Robbie couldn't think of any reason except sadism that someone would go running at that hour. The sun would barely be up.

Still, he told himself. You've said you would, too late to back out now.

Robbie hadn't been running since Year 11 PE. He didn't mind exercise on his bike or in a pool, but he could never get into running. It made him too sweaty, too quickly. He felt like a dying slug, slimy and desperate from the first foot forward until he dove back into his home.

"There it is," were the last words that escaped Mr. Wonder's mouth before Robbie closed the video. He'd been just about to pull something from his hat.

Returning to the home page, it seemed an algorithm believed Robbie had turned into quite the Mr. Wonder fan, his recommended page now littered with the oddities of the magician. From the titles, the thumbnails, there wasn't any niche this magician filled. His videos covered anything from politics to tap dance tutorials, magic tricks to full-length lectures. Dozens of videos, all published within the space of a year. For a man who had his own stage, lighting and what appeared to be a live audience, his views were frankly abysmal. A hundred here, twenty there, it was a miracle Robbie had even stumbled upon the man.

Hope he sticks to his day job, Robbie thought.

He switched his phone off, put it on charge and went to bed. Among the shouts from outside and the stress of waking up in five hours, it took a while for Robbie to find sleep.

There was an unease too. Something inexplicable that kept Robbie from sleep. He tossed and turned, looking around the pitch black of his small room. Shaped like a box, with walls painted in a pale yellow, Robbie had had to buy more than a few posters just to give his space a bit of life. Films, games, anything that he was slightly interested in was added to the walls, covering the clinical plainness of the room. Robbie even guiltily bought some of those indie posters, the ones that paint album covers on naked women, all in the excuse of 'art'. Robbie knew he was in no position to judge; he'd bought the posters same as any other lad.

Looking around in the dark, the posters were anything but a comfort. In the day they were a much-needed breath of diversity, but in pitch black, they were reduced to shadowy outlines. Possibly people, perhaps not. They surrounded a lying Robbie like doctors around a patient, waiting for the anaesthetic to kick in. In the corner of Robbie's eye, he could've sworn he saw a dark shape move. Another seemed to undulate as he turned to the first shape. He closed his eyes and pushed away the thoughts. With so much dark, so many shapes, anyone would start seeing shit that wasn't there.