CHILD'S PLAY, quentin beck

XII. MASTER OF ILLUSIONS

'I was starting to think you'd stood me up,' said Quentin, faking a sad, and slightly disappointed tone. He had a playful smile on his face ever since Josephine had walked through the doors, leading her into the pub. The real pub, this time. He took down the illusions as soon as Peter had left, but still had his partners play their parts of staff and customers. Drunk customers. They did, after all, have a reason to be celebrating and drinking. Quentin hid the glasses as well. He was afraid she might recognize them as Peter's glasses, gifted to him by his late mentor, Tony Stark.

He also didn't want to drag her further into the mess he had created.

Josephine smiled at him and sat down on the bar stool right next to his. She realized the man was still wearing his armour. 'That would have been very rude of me,' she answered. 'I guess I'm just not as fast as Google Maps thinks I am.' It wasn't a complete lie. Josephine had just been deep in thought while on her way, resulting in her missing some turns.

Quentin laughed softly. 'It's not a problem,' he assured her. He turned around to the bartender, his literal partner in crime, and ordered two drinks. A beer and a white wine, they same thing they drank the previous time they went out to a bar. 'So, how was the opera? Eventful, I assume.'

'Oh yeah,' Josephine joked. 'Definitely the most eventful part of today.' She thought about earlier this evening, at the carnival. She had expected some of her students to sneak out of the opera, but she had never expected them to end up at the same place as some kind of fire monster. 'To be absolutely honest, I'm don't mind that I missed the opera show.' She smiled at the bartender and thanked him when he put her glass of wine in front of her, quickly taking a sip.

He took multiple sips of his beer before putting it back down, all while looking at her and listening to what she was saying.

She sighed. 'I'm just glad it's over. For today, at least. We're going to London tomorrow and I have no doubt something will ruin the rest of this trip.' Josephine took another sip of her wine.

They talked for a while. Not about what had happened today, it was like they both wanted to forget about it as quickly as they possibly could. They talked about the rest of the trip, what Josephine hoped to do and see in London. She had tried asking him some questions about his life before all of this happened, but he changed the subject each time. Or he said he didn't want to talk about it, it had been too painful for him.

Josephine wondered what time it was. She hadn't been at the pub for a very long time yet, but her sleep deprivation was starting to get to her.

'Oh, crap,' Josephine mumbled under her breath once she unlocked her phone. Three missed calls from Peter, and seven text messages from MJ and Ned combined. All three teachers had told the students to only call or text in case of emergency, and seeing she had ten notifications, something must have happened.

Quentin cleared his throat and tried to, without her noticing, look at the screen of her phone. The woman had already unlocked her phone before he had a chance to see what was going on. 'Something wrong?' He looked at her, curiously.

'Eh, Peter tried to call me a few times. I should call him back,' Josephine explained. 'I'll be right back.' She got up from the bar stool and made her way to a quieter part of the pub, near the exit. Her phone only rang once before Peter picked up, he must have been waiting for her to call back. 'Sorry I missed the calls; my phone was on silent. Is everything alright?'

Peter mumbled something to another person. 'Are you at the hotel? If not, we need you to come back. MJ and I just found something and it's important, and really bad, and it's about Mysterio.'

Josephine didn't miss the panicked tone in his voice. 'Okay, eh, I'll come back right away. And what about him?' She looked back at the man waiting for him at the bar. He smiled at her, but Josephine noticed something else in his expression. He seemed frustrated, maybe even a little angry. He hid it well, but it was still noticeable.