That night would be recollected with distaste and confusion as the days, weeks, and months passed. But then it would fade from memory bit by bit. There was so little to begin with. He vaguely recalled frosty touches and searing lust—both of which fed his late-night fantasies for some time.
Even that faded soon enough though.
Already forgotten coy smiles and blood-soaked embraces would be relegated to the silver screen forevermore. Just like the stalking circus, he did his best to erase it from his memory.
That was all true. And it remained true for the following year and a half when he graduated and became a college student.
University was in full swing and he did his best to stay busy. A full course load, a part-time job in the campus library, and a tutoring gig that honestly floated most of his bills. His first year was nearly over and he hadn’t noticed at all. Things were mostly calm—uneventful.
Darius liked it that way.
Wading through life in a fog could be disconcerting for some, but for him, it was a sweet relief from the rush of panic that one night had caused. He had felt a similar kind of emptiness during exam preparations in high school, but this one was more acute.
Almost as if life was passing him by and he was truly just along for the short ride. When he would drift off into a daydream, he imagined sitting in the flatbed of life’s pick-up truck, taking in the passing people and open skies but never stopping long enough to appreciate the finer details.
His friends never convinced him to go out like that again, for which he was immensely grateful. It was better to not climb off the pick-up truck and engage.
Sometimes though, Darius could still hear the faint ringing of a circus coming around trying to lure him in—make him stop. He would quickly dispel the fantasy before anything ever came of it. It was better to pretend than ever acknowledge that perhaps a circus really had and continued to stalk him.
To what end did he actually want to delve any further into his past? A rich voice and cold hands would jolt him awake at night, as if trying to gently drag him out of the dorm and into the streets.
Darius never fell back to sleep after those particularly vivid dreams. Sometimes, he even searched his body for some sign that a stranger had really come in and caressed him.
There was never anything.
“You alright?”
Darius blinked slowly, drawing himself to attention. “Uh, yeah,” he answered, nearly slurring. It was the middle of the work week. There was no reason he should be feeling so sluggish.
“Is the weather getting you down? April has been an absolute rainstorm,” Lara remarked around a sip of iced coffee. “I know I start to feel a little off whenever it’s too humid or gray outside.” Her nose scrunched up slightly. “And that smell of just moisture in the air. Ugh. It gives me a headache.”
He smiled at that, leaning back in the creaking wooden café chair. Soft, discrete music waded through the dimly lit shop, just barely muting the constant rainfall. “Really? I feel like the smell just makes me tired.” Adds to the dullness.
Lara hummed. “Maybe that too.” She drummed her fingers against the table’s rough wood grain. “So? Have you heard back from the study abroad committee? They told me to get my deposit in by the end of next week.”
It was a cornerstone of being a university student. Darius couldn’t pass it up without looking suspicious to his friends. They were already worried enough by his drab routine. If he hadn’t chosen the abroad program himself, they would’ve signed him up without his permission.
“Yeah.” He nodded faintly. “They told me the same thing.”
“Really?” Lara lit up. “Then you’re off to London in August?”
“I guess so,” he shrugged, frowning a bit.
She studied him for a long moment, simmering with concern. It was wrong to coddle a friend, but Darius was even more listless than in the past. Rather unfortunately, the only time he seemed to be present was when someone would ask: “Do you hear that?”
Lara still had no idea what he was referring to because she had never heard it and said as much.
Darius would inevitably brush off the subject if no one else said a thing. It had proven itself fruitless to press him for information. The guy was tight-lipped about whatever was making him edgy. At one time, Lara had even tried to bait him into talking by saying she “heard” it, too.
The lie soon unraveled though when Darius’s eyes filled with fear and confusion. He had then muttered, “The bell distorts the tune. Makes it sound like someone is trying to disturb the circus.”
And if that wasn’t the creepiest fucking sentence to ever grace Lara’s ears, she didn’t know what was.
She never asked again and never questioned it again because the idea of Darius being committed to an insane asylum for hearing circus music where it didn’t exist was terrifying.
She’d rather have her friend around with delirious hallucinations than not at all.
***
London.
A new start.
That’s what Darius repeated to himself through it all. He reminded himself that it had been over a year since that fateful night in a club far away. Over a year since the circus came to town and he became an adult.
He couldn’t talk to anyone about any of it, though. The music had never really stopped and that was life now. It faded but lingered.
He was accepting the truth. It wouldn’t leave, so ignoring it was his next best choice.
With that, he hopped a plane to London at the end of August.
Twenty years old. Second year student. A bit quiet but friendly enough. Enjoys music. Would be up for live music. He silently rehearsed the introduction, knowing his turn would be coming up soon.
The cohort was small, so orientation was mostly intimate icebreakers and casual conversation. They were sharing a set of flats near their host institution as well, meaning all of them would be seeing a lot of each other.
When Darius’s turn came, the introduction rolled off his tongue quickly. The other smiled and nodded encouragingly. All of them were young and nervous—desperate to make sure they had friends in a foreign environment.
He understood. Being alone wasn’t fun. Being alone with his lunatic thoughts was even less fun.
“I just thought of something fun!” The resident advisor. A woman in her early twenties. Darius would have to commit her name to memory at some point.
She picked up her purse, rummaging about for a few seconds before pulling out a glossy black envelope. The silver cursive etched across it made Darius’s blood run cold. “So I actually got free tickets to a popular show. They’re famous all over the world, but this is their home base. Just thirty minutes or so outside of the city center.”
“How?”
Everyone turned to face Darius. His voice had been irrefutably threatening. There was a darkness seeping into his eyes and it only grew more pronounced the longer he gazed at the tickets.
Schooling her features, the advisor replied carefully, “They’re very community oriented. They often give out free tickets for small programs like this. It’s a goodwill gesture.”
Darius didn’t believe her. But if he said anything else, the only crazy one here would be him. Struggling to shove down the panic, he nodded slowly. “Sorry.” He forced a smile. “I’m terrified of clowns. Can’t stand them.”
Relief flooded everyone’s faces, clouds of suspicion lifting in an instant.
The advisor waved her hands reassuringly. “Oh don’t be worried at all! Actually, this circus is special.” She opened the envelope, showing them the colorful tickets. Each one had a different monochromatic image, but they all shared a common attribute. The people pictured were gorgeous. Startlingly so. Draped in fine clothing and faces painted elegantly, they were far from the grotesque circuses and freak shows that filled nightmares.
“So, you see, their beauty is a big seller.” She laughed lightly. “The troupe has been around since the turn of the twentieth century, but they’ve never failed to win people with their faces first and their incredible performances. It’s not frightening at all.”
A few other students chimed in then that they were also nervous about circus folk. Darius only half listened to them reassure each other. It still didn’t sit right with him. What are the chances? Did they follow me? Maybe I actually am crazy.
“It’ll be fine, Darius!” The friendly hand that clapped him on the shoulder did little to comfort him.
He didn’t respond, eyes going back to the black envelope and silver script.
With Love, Delirium
Maybe this was good. He would finally face his demons. This circus had chased him halfway across the world and there was no escape now.
“The show starts at 8:00 p.m. sharp!”
Darius took a shuddering breath as they arrived.
Memories washed over him with each step he took toward the black and white striped tent. It glittered and thrummed with energy from a time long since passed. His companions’ voices faded away as they drew closer to the nostalgic beats of brass. Drums and trills joined the controlled mayhem. And at last, silver bells chimed in mischievously, as if teasing him especially.
They made their way through throngs of people, shouldering their way to the assigned seats. It was a mishmash of technology and antiquity inside. Props and decorations were distressed, but the seats were lush red velvet, and the technical rigging state of the art.
Magical. The thought settled in Darius’s mind. Something stirred in his chest as the lights dimmed.
They had come just as the show was set to begin—partly because of traffic, but also because Darius had stalled quite a bit. He wouldn’t be surprised if his new flatmates already disliked him.
“Their shows usually open with a short message from the Ringleader,” his advisor whispered into his ear.
Nodding slightly, he turned warily back to the circular stage. A spotlight flickered to life. Fog swirled around the floor silently.
Darius tensed, fingers curling into fists over his lap.
And then he appeared.
A black silk top hat, a coiled leather whip, and a striking pinstriped suit. His blood red bowtie matched his lips. They were the only spots of color on his person.
Darius sucked in a harsh breath as their eyes locked.
Kallum.
Kohl-rimmed eyes. Cold, ivory skin. A smile that could kill.
He knew him. He knew him before that awful night nearly two years ago. He knew him from a time forgotten. Darius clenched the arm rests, leaning forward without realizing it. The Ringleader was still watching him.
Endlessly watching him.
“Good evening,” he began, deep voice hushing the excited mutterings. He swept his arms out and the tails of his suit twirled. “So glad you all could come. We have a special show tonight.”
And in an instant, they were all under his spell. His red-lipped monologue wrapped around them like blindfolds, promising them it would be much more enjoyable this way. His low, dark chuckle constricted throats and pooled heat in embarrassing places. Not a soul could turn away from him.
Darius included.
His entire body felt flushed, suddenly remembering with incredible clarity the night he let that man touch him. So cold.
Their eyes met once again as Kallum completed his slow turn about the stage. Fire and lust and cruelty reflected in the darkness. Darius wasn’t sure which attracted him the most. Maybe he didn’t want an answer.
“Tonight is particularly lovely,” the Ringleader mused, speaking directly to Darius. “My dearest treasure has finally returned. Welcome home.”
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