"Hey Mo, will you stretch me?" I called to Maurice, not only my coworker but one of my closest friends. He was already in his ringmaster outfit. If you haven't guessed by now, I work at the circus. I'm the tightrope girl and contortionist. He walked over to where I was standing near the wall. He knew the drill by now; all he had to do was push my shoulders back while
I did the splits upright against the wall. "Thanks," I said once we were done.
"No problem," he replied, "You seem tired."
"I am," I said, "I wonder whose bright idea it was to have me work three shows today..."
"You're the only contortionist we've got, though. We need you," he replied.
"I know," I said, smiling, "I just wish I could at least wear a different costume..." My outfit was bright red and all spandex. The top was essentially a sports bra with one sleeve on the left side. There was a strip of fabric that attached the top and bottom down each of my sides, leaving my stomach and back exposed. The ends of the leggings reached down to my calves. The color made me look even more pale than I already was. I didn't like wearing revealing things like this, because there were always little kids at the shows. I felt more like a stripper than a circus performer, honestly. Not to mention that the tattoo high on my right hip was completely exposed. It was of the Black Parade soldier from the cover of the My Chemical Romance album.
"Yeah, and they've got the air conditioning on, too," Mo sympathized.
"Are you staying for that meet and greet for the kids after the show?" I asked.
"No. You?" he replied.
"Yeah, I always do," I said.
"Hey Mo, you're on," Doug, the stage manager, called. Mo smiled at me before he turned and walked through the curtains and into view of the audience. I heard them cheer loudly. I had a good ten minutes until I was on, and I spent that time stretching. I absentmindedly wondered if I should put my hair up, but decided against it. It was probably too short, anyway. It barely reached past my ears.
Soon, Doug told me I was on in ten seconds. I waited just behind the curtain until I heard Mo announce, "Put your hands together for our contortionist, Jen!" I made my way out to my pedestal as the crowd cheered. I started my act with a press handstand. When I dropped to my elbows, the audience gasped. I did all my normal flexibility tricks, just as I had done them earlier that day. For the finale, I stood on the pedestal and did a back tuck, my feet landing in the exact same place as they started. That earned the loudest cheer yet from the crowd.
Mo began his short commentary, leaving me time to climb up the ladder to the tightrope platform. Once he was silent, I began with a front walkover onto the wire. I then proceeded with the normal act, press handstands, aerials, everything I was used to. That all changed, though, when I caught a short glimpse of the audience. I could have sworn I saw Gerard and Lyn-z Way with their daughter, Bandit. I needed to know for sure, so I improvised and added in a long press handstand, just to give me time to look at the crowd. I found the place I thought they had been and sure enough, it was them. I came down from my handstand and my right hand immediately moved to my tattoo, as if to cover it. I stayed frozen there for about three seconds, just looking at them. I then remembered everyone, including them, was looking at me, waiting for me to finish. I quickly threw in another cartwheel and a front walkover and then stepped onto the platform on the opposite side. The audience cheered as I climbed down the ladder and then disappeared behind the curtain.
One by one, I watched each performer go out and then come back in a few minutes later. After twenty minutes of that, the show was finally over. All of us went out to take a bow. I couldn't help but to look for Gerard, Lyn-z, and Bandit again. I found them, second row in the balcony. When I realized they were looking at me, I tried to make it seem like I hadn't been looking at them. I stared at the ground and tried not to blush. All I wanted to do was leave to spare myself from further embarrassment, but I remembered the meet and greet. I'd already said I would do it; I couldn't back out now. And hey, maybe Gerard and Lyn-z would bring Bandit. I wasn't sure if I hoped they would or wouldn't.
As the audience started to dissipate, I made my way to the panel mat that was laid out for me as the rest of the performers went to their stations. A few of the clowns went to let the kids and their parents into the ring and before I knew it, the place was flooded with people. There were a few kids standing at the edge of my mat, watching me do standing tucks and fulls. After I was done with my mini-performance, they all clapped. There were two or three little girls who said they took gymnastics classes, and they showed me their somersaults and cartwheels and backbends. I told them they did a great job. Little by little, people started to leave. There was no one at my panel mat and I was about to fold it up and leave. A little girl came running up, though, and asked me to show her a flip. I did a standing tuck and she clapped. Her parents walked up behind her, and to my surprise, it was Gerard and Lyn-z. This little girl must be Bandit, I thought. She was saying something to me about gymnastics or whatever, but I couldn't pay attention. I was looking at Gerard and Lyn-z out of the corner of my eye. I had my hand on my hip in an attempt to hide my tattoo. Bandit tugged lightly on my leggings. "What is it, sweetie?" I asked.
"You wanna see my cartwheel?" she asked cheerfully.
"Sure," I said, stepping off the mat to give her space. She did a nearly perfect cartwheel. I smiled and said, "That was really good." She beamed.
"Can you do something cool for my mommy and daddy?" she asked. Shit. That would require me to take my hand off my hip. But I couldn't just say no...
"Sure," I replied. In a desperate attempt to impress them, I did a toe touch back handspring layout. As soon as I landed, my right hand flew back to my hip. They all smiled and Gerard even clapped. Lyn-z picked up Bandit, who looked like she was getting tired.
"I saw your tattoo, you know," Gerard said to me, "You don't have to hide it." Damn. I wasn't as inconspicuous as I'd thought. I reluctantly moved my hand away, revealing the little skeleton soldier.
"Mr. Way, I just want to thank you for everything. You and your band have inspired me beyond belief," I said, "Same to you, Mrs. Way." They both smiled.
"You're so... polite," Gerard commented, "Unlike some fans. Did you hear about that girl who licked Frank's face? Anyway, you can call me Gerard."
"And you can call me Lyn-z," Lyn-z chimed in. I smiled.
"I would ask for a photo with you guys, but I don't have my phone on me..." I trailed off.
"That's okay. We can take it on my phone and I'll tweet it to you," Lyn-z replied. I smiled.
"Thanks," I said. She took her phone out of her pocket and put Bandit down. She moved over and motioned for me to stand between her and Gerard.
"I feel so short next to you two," I commented. They both laughed. Then we all smiled and she snapped the photo.
"What's your Twitter name, hon?" she asked, looking down at the keypad on her phone. I told her. She paused for a second and then said, "Alright, I sent it."
"Thanks," I replied, smiling. I got a hug from both of them before they left.
I couldn't stop smiling as I folded my panel mat and dragged it back behind the curtain. Once I had changed back into my normal clothes, I checked my phone. I had two new Twitter notifications. The first one was the photo; the second one was that Lyn-z had followed me. I resisted the urge to fangirl-squeal. I was secretly thankful to whoever had scheduled me to work three shows that day.