The Audition Pt. 01

The sunlight on my face. The rumble of my seat. The cool morning air. It's too bad this car smells like the mix of a 100 year old motel and the dumpster behind an Italian restaurant, otherwise this would've been kinda pleasant. Why am I even here.

"Hey, dude, we're here."

I feel a gentle poke in my side. I open my eyes, rubbing my eyelids. It is way too early on a Saturday to travel. An arm shoots across my field of vision, pointing to the right window. The towering skyscraper dwarfed all the surrounding buildings, standing majestically and dignified not just in its size, but in its architecture. The front entrance is littered with gorgeous glass paneling and a massive statue in the center. Some fine art nonsense, a jumble of shapes and cubes. Seriously? This is our destination? I feel underdressed.

The car starts to slow, parking on the side of the street. My friend thanks the driver for the lift, and we get out of the shoddy, barely-functioning sedan we took to get here. He turns to me, and pokes my side again.

"What did I tell you? This opportunity is my ticket to the good life." Patrick grabs my shoulder, and squeezes a bit tighter than I'd like. "And with my good luck charm by my side, I can't fail!"

"Yeah, I'm still not sure why you wanted me to come to this... uh? Man, what even is this?"

Patrick smirks that trademark Patrick smirk. The kind that always comes before the storm. "I guess... it's kinda like an audition? The coolest kind. A hypnotist audition!"

Pulling out his phone, opening to a Chrislist page posted a few weeks ago.

||

"LOOKING FOR GENIUS HYPNOTIST! KIND, CARING, AND STRONG! MASSIVE REWARD!!

PLEASE MESSAGE FOR MORE DETAILS there will be a test to ensure your skill

Do not message this user with unsolicited offers"

||

With a map, with a large circle showing it's from somewhere in this general area.

"You gotta be shitting me, dude. You dragged me halfway across town at 7:30 AM on a Saturday for the single sketchiest online post I have ever seen." Turning to face Patrick, his face says everything. It's a mix of betrayal, fear, and that look children give when you take away their favorite toy.

"But, Issac, you were my teacher. My mentor, my guide! And most importantly..." he leans towards me, bumping us shoulder to shoulder, "...my friend. I'm asking for your help, here. Your emotional support. Can't I count on you to back me up?"

I just stared at him for a second. Patrick is obnoxious, single-minded at times, and a bit too gullible for his own good, but the guy's got a heart of gold. I know he's supported me through much worse. Awful schedule or no, I know he'd do the same for me. I shouldn't be whining so much.

"Alright, alright!" I take a step towards the reflective front doors of the building, "No need for the guilt trip. I got you. So, mister Genius Hypnotist, lead the way to our final destination."

"Haha, yes!" That lifted his spirits, and then some. He pulls out his phone, and starts walking towards the entrance. "These people were super protective of this level of info, you know. When I contacted them, they had like, a bunch of hoops I had to jump through before they gave me any solid details."

"Really? Like what?" I'm almost starting to get curious about this whole thing. I haven't really taken hypnosis seriously as a craft in a while. I didn't really expect to be thrown back into this world, even as an Emotional Support Friend.

"It was all really basic stuff, actually? Like, the kinda stuff you taught me on day 1." Patrick puffs his chest and does his best, which is also his worst, poshe accent, "What is an induction? What is a deepener? Do you know, YOUNG MAN, what is the precise definition of a post-hypnotic suggestion!! Hmmm???"

I couldn't help but laugh at his absolutely horrendous attempt to sound fancy and proper. "That is all really basic stuff, you're right. For such a massive reward", air quotes included, "they sure have low standards."

"Right? All the easier for me to sweep in and take the prize!" His eyes lit up with an excitement I frequently see from Patrick, but rarely with... quite so much fervor. He's not telling me something.

But it's not my job to know the entire situation. As Patrick said, I'm here for emotional support. And I'm perfectly content with that. That, and the breakfast he promised he'd buy me after.

As we enter the building, we're blasted right in the face with some intense AC. I'm sure in the afternoon it's a fantastic reprieve, but this early in the morning it's really just a rude awakening. As I rub my eyes to clear more of the crud off, Patrick jogs over to the receptionist desk. After a short conversation, he comes back with the same hurried pace.

"This is our treasure map, Issac." He waves a blank keycard in front of my face. A bit too close to my face. "This will let us access the elevator, and get us to the right floor."

"It's too early in the morning for that kind of analogy, Patrick."

"No such thing, my friend! Let's move." We make our way across the floors of shiny, spotless marble tile, to a set of four elevators, each with a reader as well as one big up arrow button.

Patrick presses the up button. Nothing happens. He presses it again. Nothing. He starts mashing the button. No lights.

"Oh my God dude, settle down." I snatch the keycard from his hands, as he recoils from the force. I hold the keycard in front of the scanner, and then press the button. Boom.

Patrick just kinda takes a step back and looks away, embarrassed that he's letting the excitement of this 'test' get the better of him. The empty elevator, waiting on the first floor for a passenger, immediately opens.

I bow, holding out the keycard. "This way, sir. Your prize awaits." Patrick snatches the card from my hand and makes his way into the elevator, and I follow right behind.

The interior of the elevator is as ritzy and clean as the rest of the building. It has a very gold hue, but not being overly gaudy or too showoff-y. There's a mirror on the back wall of the elevator, and I look over my appearance, while Patrick is pushing buttons on the opposite side.

I don't look bad, considering how early I got up this morning. My 6' stature doesn't look the best compared to Patrick's 6'2, but my medium build certainly stacks up against how lanky my friend is. My hair's an absolute mess, though. I spend a second styling it. Well, about as well as I can without any product. So, not much, but it's better than it was before, kinda.

"You nervous about your looks, Issac? Worried about your first impression, eh?" He's trying to tease me. He's not the best at it.

"Well, considering they live in a place this nice, there's no harm in spending a second trying to look presentable. Hell, you sure dressed up. There aren't even any holes in your jeans, for once!"

"Okay, hey. You know that it's a stylistic choice, not an indication of how worn out they are."

"Sure, sure. But you're wearing a collared shirt. I haven't seen one of those on you since that time I drove you to a job interview at Radio Shed when we were 19. So you don't get to give me shit for worrying a bit about my hair."

Patrick sighs, clearly this got a bit more intense than he was intending. "Fair, fair, fair, fair."

The elevator dings. The 15th floor. The door opens, and Patrick walks out, while pulling out his phone. Guess the room number is written on there.

We find the right door, and Patrick knocks three times. Knock-knock-knock. We stand out like a sore thumb in this incredibly high-class lobby area, so it feels a bit awkward. It feels like time is coming to a halt. Knock-knock-knock.

A young woman's voice can be heard, muffled through the door. "Coming!" And shortly after the door opens. And after a morning of surprises, the wild ride doesn't stop.

The young lady stands at about 5'4, sporting black hair that stops just before her shoulders. Her large brown eyes stare up at us, she has the briefest look of expectation. But then you look down at her outfit. A black dress, white apron, white knee high socks and black dress shoes. Holy shit she's dressed in a maid uniform.

"Sorry about that! You're Patrick, aged 24, yes?" She takes a second to gather her composure but then looks perfectly comfortable and neutral.

"Yes! That's me, we spoke via email. And you're Jess, right?"

"Perfect! You arrived just in time, please come in." As Patrick starts to walk towards the apartment, the maid starts to tense up, taking a step back. "And uh..." she stares me right in the face, "...who is this?"

"Oh! My bad, I completely forgot to mention, didn't I. This is my good friend and mentor, Issac. He's the one who taught me the art of hypnosis to start, so I wanted him to come to support me, and watch me perform. It's kinda like a rite of passage, you know?"

Jess is very clearly unsure of what to do. Her eyes are darting left and right, trying to find the words. Clearly I'm not wanted here. "You know," I chime in, cutting the silence, "I think I'll just wait down in the lobby. I don't mean to crash your party. You come find me afterwards, yeah?"

Patrick is clearly a bit surprised at how easily I gave up, and Jess actually looks [i]more[/i] distraught, not less. "Wait a second, man!" Patrick tries to stop me. "Look, Jess. This guy's a hypnotist too, and just as good as me. Please, can you let him in, too?"

Her eyes zoom between the upper right and upper left corners of her vision, visibly showing the gears in her mind turn as she processes this information. After a moment, "Alright, I'll allow it. But no funny business, or I'll call security!" She points her finger directly at me, trying her best to look threatening. It really doesn't work.

But I agree, and we are both lead inside.

____________________________________________________________________________

Jess sits us down on the couch in the living space of this massive apartment. I get a second to take in my surroundings. There's a lot of seafoam, a lot of aquatic colors. The walls are a seafoam green, and the couch is a matching blue. There are novelty anchors on the wall, and the table lamps are in the shape of lighthouses. They're very dedicated to the theme, if nothing else.

As we sit in on the couch in the living area, I lean in close to Patrick, almost coming to a whisper, "So, what exactly is this audition you're doing? Like, you passed the written exam, so what's the practical?"

"I never told you the whole story, did I. Sorry, that's my bad. Okay, so the woman who lives here has never, ever been dropped before, right?" Realizing exactly where he was, he also leans in and starts to whisper, "She's tried everything. Videos, files, text, anything you can think of. Nothing's worked. So, she's on the hunt for someone who's actually capable of putting her under. And the prize goes to the first one to do it."

"You know, it's kinda like that anime? You know, about the immortal warrior who hunts the strongest in the world?" He takes a serious pose, holding his closed first to his heart. "Someday... I will find the one who can kill me..." He laughs to himself as his posture relaxes. "It's just like that, only with way less murder."

I just stare at him and laugh. "Okay, no, that comparison makes absolutely no sense. It's absolutely not the same thing. My posture relaxes to match his. "And that's all? Just hunting for a decent hypnotist? Makes this whole song and dance feel a bit overblown to me."

"Apparently this chick is loaded, and takes her personal privacy very seriously. So, they're super paranoid about who they even let try. Wild, right?"

"Uh... huh. Super paranoid, but has a questionnaire that only asks for the most basic of basics? Sure. Not fishy at all."

"But look at this place, dude! Clearly she's super rich!"

"Assuming you're not getting catfished."

"Okay, yeah! But come on. I'd hypnotize a dude if the reward is good enough, wouldn't you?"

"Yes? But then you're being deceived from the very start. What would make you think this reward is legitimate, if that's the case?"

Patrick leans back just a moment, to think about it. "I mean, I guess that makes sense? But I don't think it's a catfish, anyway."

What even is this prize that he keeps mentioning. The ad online kept it vague, too. My thoughts are interrupted as Jess, the maid, returns to the living space. I guess she was in a bedroom?

"Alright, Patrick, the first test is ready." She walks over to us and sits in the loveseat across from us, her delicate features becoming more prominent as she sits rather daintily. "You may begin whenever you're ready."

I just kinda look over at Patrick, hoping he'll explain without me having to outright ask in front of her. "Okay. Just give me a moment to compose myself, and then I will begin." He's putting on such an act, trying to be more formal. I lean in towards him, hoping to get his attention without causing a stir. He eventually catches on.

"Oh, sorry, my bad. Before I can see the star of the show, I need to prove myself." He looks over at the maid, staring at us chat as if she isn't even there. "I need to drop her before I can be let in."

"Oh, that makes decent sense, I suppose. Do you feel you're a particularly difficult subject to hypnotize, Jess?" I don't even know why I even bothered asking that. She'll probably ignore me.

"Not really." She looks down, breaking eye contact. "Well, not nearly as difficult as her. I've gone under a few times. It feels nice."

My interest is piqued. "Do you like being hypnotized, then? Or do you just tolerate it for the sake of this... test?"

"Well, I actually quite like it a lot. But it feels a bit awkward sometimes, when I can readily enjoy it when my best friend can't come close to appreciating it. Makes me feel a bit guilty."

I smile, barely aware of it. "Oh, that must be the worst. But there's no reason to be ashamed for enjoying what you like, you know?"

She smiles right back. She resumes eye contact, clearly a bit more comfortable with the situation. "That's true. It's just a bit difficult at times."

"AHEM." A strong, and strongly irritated, cough reverberates around the room. "I'm pretty sure this is my test, not yours, yeah? Let the master do his thing."

I lean back, taken by surprise. He's totally right, we're here for him to prove himself and win some prize, not for me to chat about the specifics of hypnosis. As brief as it was, I haven't had a conversation like that in a long time. It was really nice.

"Right, right. Sorry, Patrick. I'll shut up and let you work." But how I feel really doesn't matter, not right now, at least. I'm here to support my friend, not to hog the spotlight for myself. I don't even do this anymore. I sit back in my seat, and move to the edge of the couch, giving Patrick the space he needs to focus.

______________________________________________________________________

He begins with the most basic of basics.

"Are you ready to begin?"

"Yes."

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any questions before we begin?"

"No."

"It feels nice to answer my questions, doesn't it?"

"I guess?"

"Excellent. Do you have anything I need to know about how you operate as a subject?"

"Um... no?"

"Good. Then we can begin without stress, or worry. And isn't that what we want? No stress, no worry?"

"Yes. We want no stress. No worries."

And then he moves to focusing on breaths. Focusing on focus. Focusing on connecting the two, focusing on creating that symbiotic relationship between relaxation and focus a good trance requires. Which is fine. I'm just looking at my phone for the next while, here. If he screws this up he deserves whatever comes next, me being here or no.

The nice thing about all this is he's dealing with an experienced subject, way more than she let on before. She clearly knows where this session is intending to take her. She's doing half the work for him, which is good. It means that they're on even ground.

The table has been set, and he begins to move onto the deepener proper, which I guess is the... meal, in this metaphor? Well, the meal is a basic beach visualization induction. Fitting, given our surroundings. Basic, but effective.

"And you feel the wind blowing through your hair, right?"

"I do."

"And you feel the way the sunlight gently kisses your skin, right?"

"I do."

"And you hear the sound of the waves, as they gently ebb and flow, right?"

"I do."

"And how does it make you feel, to be surrounded by all this comfort, all this gorgeous relaxation?"

"Good."

Patrick has decent pacing, but he's not considering the subject at all. Her body language is fine, yeah. The way her shoulders have slumped as her hands rest in her lap, the way her neck lays on the cushion behind her, her breathing steady and slow. You can see her eyes are fluttering a bit, between just barely open and closed, as she reacts to his words.

She's clearly getting there, but there's just a lot of forced interaction.

I mean, I guess it's fine? It's a consistent rhythm, so she's never caught off-guard by the expectation to respond. It's not what I taught him, but it's an acceptable variation. But it's fast. It's quick.

"And how much deeper do you want to go?"

"So much deeper..."

That's what you want to see. She's enthused. There's that small wistful sigh at the end of her words that you want. It shows she sees beyond the moment. She sees the potential. She expects more. She expects to be guided down to bliss and perfection, as she sinks into mindless heaven, floating in that perfect space between awake and aware, and perfectly asleep. Allowing her thoughts to be molded, shaped by his words, her free will to-

Nope. Nope nope. Stopping that train of thought here.

"You're doing so well. And now, when I snap my fingers, you'll drop twice as deep for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And that's all you want. Is to drop as deep as you can, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Undeniably deep. Undeniably empty. Undeniably blank. Right?"

"Yes. Undeniably."

"You're doing so well."

Cute. Creating a theme, a sort of underlying concept within the suggestions itself. Make everything memorable, even if they don't remember. That's something he kept in his skull at least.

Patricks snaps his fingers, and her head falls forward, despite being comfortable leaning her head back before.. She's letting gravity act as a metaphor for falling further. She's a very learned subject. Has a clear idea of what trance looks like, and feels like. Way, way more into this than she lets on.

"Ready to wake up, Jess?"

"Yes. I am ready."

"Are you undeniably deep, Jess?"

"Yes, I am undeniably deep."

Patrick smirks to himself and starts the awakening, just counting up from 1 to 10. She stirs to life, squirming in her seat a bit as she searches for solid ground, after floating for a few minutes.

_________________________________________________________________________

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Jess! So..." he leans in a bit, waiting for the answer he knew was coming. "Do I pass?" He did well. Clearly he didn't pursue his skills past what I taught him, but he certainly mastered the basics. So, as his teacher, I'm not super ecstatic, but I'm reasonably proud.

Jess takes a moment to collect herself, and looks up at us, and says "Yes, you passed. Undeniably." There's a small smirk, but it quickly fades from her expression, as the projection of a calm, composed maid comes back to her face.

"You may now see her. Follow me." She slowly stands up, a bit wobbly. Patrick gets up to follow her, turning to face me and flashing a big thumbs up and a wink, before turning back towards the bedroom.