Hour after hour, I repeated the moves, my fingers gradually transforming from clumsy to graceful. In front of the mirror, I practiced the same sleights over and over until the movements became instinctive. The mirror became my critic, reflecting my unwavering focus, sweat forming on my forehead, eyes never leaving the cards, exposing every flaw in my technique. Even when my fingers ached, the pain was a constant reminder of the effort I put into this craft, but I pressed on-every shuffle, every cut was a testament to my perseverance.