The circus lights are almost blinding, strung from colorful tents and poles, which are adorned with posters and small trinkets. It's mesmerizing, honestly. My coworkers must have noticed my reaction, because a few of them laugh under their breath. For once, it doesn't bother me.

I take in the sights, the sounds, and quite a few intermingling smells. I'm starving. My group drags me around the outside of the tents, and I'm glad when we stop for food at some of them. I'm honestly enjoying this. For once, I speak to my coworkers openly and listen to their own anecdotes. I learn that Brian has a daughter that he adopted when he was 22, and that Caroline has five dogs. The oldest of my coworkers, Virginia, recently became a grandmother. There's no reason for me to know all this, but I can tell it means something to them that I do. I tell them about some of my experiences in high school and skip over my experience from my junior year to a few months ago. A whole year of my life, wasted there... I take a moment to think about that. What would have happened if I hadn't talked to myself? If I wasn't crazy?

My peers break me out of my trance by suggesting that we go see a show happening in the largest tent. I agree, my mood slightly dampened by my own thoughts. We stand in a long line, and with each step we take, the tent seems to loom over us more ominously. It's huge... I wonder how it's being held up. Most circuses are travelling... how do they maintain and transport this one?

Our seats in the large tent are surprisingly close to the stage. The theater-like setup tells me that this isn't the travelling kind of circus. I look around the enormous fabric amphitheater, mesmerized once again. I've never seen anything more different than the hospital. The bustling, friendly crowd, the colorful lights and walls, and the way you can tell that you're outside and free even if you're not under the stars.

My coworkers fall silent as the lights in the middle of the stage dim. I watch the stage intently, expecting someone to walk on from the still well-lit stage right or left. Maybe a clown or a strongman or something. What all do they have in a circus...? Instead, the lights come on again and my eyes are met with a tall, mischievous-looking young man in the middle of the stage. His outfit is formal, consisting of a suit and tie that matches the tent around us, just in darker colors. He has a small top hat on his head and a smile that curves up at the corners more than most. In his hand he carries a plain staff.

A ringmaster, then? He's certainly visually appealing to an audience.

"Oh? A lively audience tonight..." His voice has an unusual lilt for a man. It's familiar but unplaceable.

I watch, intrigued as he paces around the stage, smiling at the audience like they're his only love in the wide world. Individually. Everyone stares back, trapped in his odd gaze.

"I presume this means it will be quite hard to shut you up. But we certainly will try!" He says lightly, his voice somehow carrying through the whole tent.

I don't have time for a second thought before the lights dim again, and when they turn back on, he's gone. I blink, confused, but again my thoughts are interrupted by two shapes flying by in each corner of my eye. I look quickly to my left, my gaze catching on a seemingly airborne shape, their outfit glittering under the now-bright lights. I follow her graceful movements, quickly realizing that she's swinging on a trapeze like a child would on a swing, though her movements are anything but childlike. It's immediately obvious that this is all she knows- that she lives and breathes with these fluid movements.

I look to my right side to see a similar sight- another trapeze artist, this one waving down at the crowd with the largest smile I've ever seen. I find myself with a small smile on my face as well. Her movements are less graceful, but no less fluid. She's obviously skilled and experienced as well, but perhaps her stage persona is meant to be different from the other performer. Even their appearances are different- the first is pale and ghostly, almost fake, while her counterpart is dark-skinned and grinning- the perfect contrast. They look like the perfect team... on paper. How will they really perform together?

The performance holds my attention the whole time, my eyes never leaving the two girls on their trapeze swings. They're young- only a little older than myself, I'd guess. So was the ringmaster, by estimate. Why are these young people here instead of college or somewhere more promising? Have they thrown away their lives like I have..?

The two performing finally bring their act to a close, dropping to the stage and taking a deep bow. They wave to the crowd, one poised and controlled and the other energetic and friendly, as if we're her parents and she's excited that we came to support her. I think she's probably my favorite of the two. Upon further inspection, now that I can see her better- are those burn scars..? It appears that her legs and arms are heavily scarred... like her skin had been melted by something, years ago.

I hardly have time to unpack that (and it isn't my business anyway) before the ringmaster returns to the stage from the darkness behind the girls. His arms are raised to encompass the two in his proclamation.

"Please, a hand for our performers. Spotlight-" he looks to the energetic girl. "-and Forget-Me-Not." He looks toward the composed one.

The crowd erupts in cheers, and it seems to spook me just slightly more than the reserved performer. Her eyes widen but quickly return to her composed, blank look, though a twinge of discomfort shows through. I'm more curious than ever about their stories...

"Do you think that's all of them?" One of my coworkers whispers to another.

"Surely not... three performers? I'd expect at least-" He's cut off by the lights of the tent darkening completely.

A single spotlight illuminates the middle of the stage. My eyes adjust to the lighting, and I meet the green eyes of the new messy-haired performer standing under the pale blue light.

I stop breathing.