My Fingers Slipped @partyplanningforsuckers The heat only seemed to be packed in at the circus, with the hundreds of citizens that had swarmed like ants and the intense rides that seemed to have a life of their own. The smell of sugary cotton candy and popcorn was enough to lure anyone who had just come from a days work, the circus was the place to be. With a circle of sand and tigers, along with swinging trapeze and double jointed dancers, the main stage was selling ticket for such a view.

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the-perfect-scientist:

Carlos hadn’t been to a circus in years – not since he was little. But there had been a raffle at work and Carlos had won a coupon for a free ticket. He kinda hoped that his brother and/or his dad were in town so he could invite them to go with him.

Carlos made his way to the ticket office that was set up, standing in the line with his coupon as he looked at everything around him. Some things were different than what he remembered or imagined a circus to be like, but not everything could be a dated cliche trope he supposed.

Once at the ticket office he smiled and offered the coupon. “Hey… this any good?” he asked in a joking manner.

@partyplanningforsuckers

However
he was forced to sit through and endure around an extra thirty minutes
of the act before he was finally called back into action, now the artist
was alone and his sister was performing at the stage while he simply
played at his works. It was nearing a late night before the man suddenly
swept himself over to the balcony, his hand extended for Carlos below
him.

The man was clearly young, if not younger than Carlos by at least two
years and looked to be somehow still going strong throughout the show.
His eyes were pale and cold amongst the dark lashes that laced his eyes,
his hair was a platinum blonde which contrasted beautifully against his
darker skin and gothic makeup. His hand was covered in chalk from the
performance, but it still was asking for Carlos.

Carlos was, again, confused when the acrobat decided to include him again. His hand was reaching up, though he wasn’t really sure what for. A high-five maybe? Heh… or a high-flying-high-five. So Carlos’ hand was up, his palm open as he watched the other’s face draw closer. Carlos wondered if he did his own make-up. He looked good.