Game booths bursting with giant stuffed animals and overly affectionate couples, the tantalizing aroma of turkey legs and deep-fried Oreos wafting through the hazy air, the bejeweled multi-colored lights flickering isochronally from the carousel.
Despite knowing fully well the shadows snaking behind the bubbly façade, Jeremiah still enjoyed the carnival.
He enjoyed being able to just immerse himself in the crowd and feign anonymity, as though he were another carnival-goer whose only connection to the fairgrounds was a crisp ticket stub and an evening of light-hearted fun. As though he didn't know what happened when the clock struck midnight and all the tents and rides were dismantled. As though he didn't have to resignedly trudge back to the haphazard cluster of dingy trailers tucked behind the thin rail fence.
"Miah? Earth to Miah!"
Jeremiah blinked. Jerome waved his hands in front of him. "Hellooo, did ya forget?" Jerome rolled his eyes. "Our shift's coming up!"
Jeremiah internally groaned. He and Jerome had to go man the bottle-toss booth. Jeremiah knew that his twin rather enjoyed his job, as he loved entertaining the guests with his (lousy) jokes and over-the-top personality. Jeremiah, on the other hand, would always find his gaze fixated on his ratty, pilfered watch, silently counting down the minutes until he could be relieved of his burden. "I didn't forget," Jeremiah replied flatly, his eyes already straying to the purple watch. "I just didn't want to remember."
"Ah, c'mon, broski. At least we're on shift together." A cheery whistle slipped from Jerome's lips as he hopped over to the dreaded booth. Sighing, Jeremiah shoved his hands into his pockets and grudgingly followed his twin.
After relieving Lunkhead of his shift (seriously, Jeremiah never saw the logic in placing the intimidating oaf in charge of a game booth popular for children), the twins settled themselves for a four-hour shift. Perched on a rickety stool, Jeremiah immediately pulled out a worn copy of Atlas Shrugged while Jerome adjusted his ridiculous green top hat and began merrily shouting, "Step right up, lasses and lads! You, mister, in the orange kicks! Yeah, you! Don't ya wanna win this giant fluffy bunny for the pretty lady? C'mon kiddos, I know ya wanna play." Jeremiah felt a tiny tug on the corner of his lips. He couldn't help but secretly adore his brother's theatrics (although he would never admit that, even at gunpoint).
"I'll play." Jeremiah's eyes tugged up at the sound of a deep voice. A young man with slicked back raven locks and piercing blue eyes stood before them, his neck cloaked by a black turtleneck sweater and chic navy coat. Interesting. Not quite your average carnival-goer. The young man smiled at Jeremiah, and his sincerity caught him off-guard. Nobody was ever that genuine without reason. Jeremiah unconsciously lowered his book.
"Alright!" Jerome cheered as the young man easily produced four dollars from his coat. "And what's yer name, good sir?"
The well-dressed young man blinked at that. "Jerome, remember what we talked about?" Jeremiah lightly scolded his brother. "No asking personal information from strangers."
"Ah, my apologies." Jerome bowed, his top hat flopping forward. The young man's lips quirked. "No, that's okay. Um, my name is Bruce. And yours are?"
Delighted, Jerome straightened his posture. "I'm Jerome," he sang as he handed Bruce three blue balls. "And this here's my less handsome twin, Jeremiah."
Jeremiah scowled as Bruce chuckled. "We're identical, Jerome," Jeremiah deadpanned.
"Okay, true. I'm still waay more charismatic though." Jerome winked at Bruce, whose smile only grew. Don't give him that smile. Save it only for me. Jeremiah suddenly raked a hand through his hair, irritated at the random (and somewhat possessive) thought.
Bruce quickly used up all three of his tries with no such luck (not that these games were set up for a fair win, anyways). A tinge of disappointment plucked Jeremiah when Bruce stepped away from the booth, evidently finished playing. "Well, have a good evening," Bruce said as he dragged his sweater collar a bit higher. "Jerome. Jeremiah."
"See ya, Brucie!" Jerome called. Lightly shaking his head, Bruce walked away. Jeremiah's gaze trailed after him, watching the young man forever dissolve into the constantly shifting sea of people.
Four excruciatingly long hours later, Jeremiah was finally able to tear free from bottle-toss duty. Jerome followed his nose to the funnel cake stand while Jeremiah decided that perhaps he wanted to retire early to his trailer for once. He began making his way across the brightly lit fairgrounds towards impending darkness.
"Oh, hello again, Jeremiah."
Lightly startled, Jeremiah quickly turned to see Bruce smiling at him. "Bruce," Jeremiah replied rather breathlessly. "You're still here." And still alone, he silently added.
Bruce shrugged. "I like it here. I've never been to a carnival before."
Jeremiah's eyebrow shot up. "Really? Well, I'm not surprised," he mused. At Bruce's bemused expression, Jeremiah explained, "Judging by how expensive your clothing looks and just from your rather patrician demeanor alone, I'd say that carnivals are probably not a common source of entertainment for someone of your social class."
Bruce blurted out a laugh. "That's very observant of you. Anything else you noticed about me?"
Jeremiah's pulse lightly sped up. "Well, nothing that I can think of," he sputtered. What the hell was wrong with him? "So, um, how come you're here by yourself?"
Bruce tugged at his collar again. It must have been an unconscious habit, Jeremiah noted. "Well, my closest friend usually just comes and goes, and I didn't really see myself enjoying the evening with anyone from my social circle," Bruce said.
"A lone wolf, I see." Jeremiah nodded. "I can relate to that."
"I saw what you were reading earlier." Jeremiah's hand shifted to his pocket. "It's an interesting read."
Jeremiah cleared his throat as he slipped the novel out again. "I don't suppose that you have an opinion on the matter? I mean, seeing as you're wealthy and all."
"Actually, I do," Bruce said. "I don't agree with the story's message." Jeremiah skeptically arched a brow. It was one thing to spare a sincere smile. It was another to claim benevolence. "Every single person involved in an operation matters, even the ones looked down on by society. I mean, if no one wanted to do the 'grunt' work then society wouldn't even be able to function. You can't spit on those who keep you afloat," Bruce stated rather evenly.
"It's…very interesting you think that way, Bruce." Jeremiah re-pocketed the book, not knowing why he'd even taken it out in the first place. "I actually beg to differ."
This time it was Bruce who raised a brow. "Yeah?"
"I do agree that the more unpleasant jobs like sanitation workers and janitors are necessary to society. But I wouldn't say that they are just as significant as, say, the CEO of the company they work at, or even their immediate boss. In the end, they can be easily replaced."
"Even so, they still deserve fair wages and compensation," Bruce replied. "They're still contributing to society."
"Well, I suppose you're right," Jeremiah conceded and Bruce smiled. The red-haired man drank in the sight. This time, it's just for me.
Bruce began walking, gesturing for Jeremiah to follow (which he happily did). "So, you work here?" Bruce asked as they began meandering back into the heart of the carnival.
"Yes. My family's actually in the circus." Jeremiah wrinkled his nose. "We're not freaks though, I promise you. Well, I actually can't promise that for my brother," he joked and Bruce's rich blue orbs gleamed. "My mother's a snake charmer, my sister's a trapeze artist, and my brother juggles a variety of acts, pun intended." Two jokes in one go; Bruce really was making Jeremiah feel some type of way.
The sound of Bruce's laugh, rich and pure, only confirmed that Jeremiah was indeed a goner.
"So, you have a sister too?" They passed by the Ferris wheel.
"Yes. She's two years younger than Jerome and me. She's our half-sister."
"Does she also have red hair?" Bruce asked, his eyes wandering up to Jeremiah's hair. Light pink suffused his cheeks. "Okay, that was a stupid question."
"No, not at all." Jeremiah felt himself actually grinning at Bruce's blush. "She has black hair, like our mother. She actually looks quite like her." But she's absolutely nothing like her, thank god. "Do you have any siblings, Bruce?"
Bruce shook his head. "Do you ever get lonely about that?" Jeremiah asked.
"Not really. I've always enjoyed being an only child." Bruce paused for a moment. "My parents passed away a few years ago, but my guardian is like a second father to me."
"I'm sorry," Jeremiah murmured, not knowing what to say.
"It's okay, there's no need to say sorry." They were now passing by the food stands. Thankfully, Jerome was nowhere to be seen. Jeremiah didn't really feel like sharing right now. "What's it like being in a circus, if you don't mind me asking?"
"It's very dull, tiresome work. I hate it," Jeremiah blurted out. It wasn't as though this was some deep secret, but he also wasn't used to telling the truth, let alone to strangers.
Only, Bruce didn't feel like a stranger anymore.
"What do you wish you could do instead?" Bruce asked. Jeremiah spied the carousel several yards away, the blinkering lights weaving in and out of view. "I'd like to study mechanical engineering," he finally replied, eyes still trained on the distance. "And architecture. And physics. I don't know; I have a wide range of interests."
"That's really fascinating." Jeremiah's gaze slid to his companion. Again, the red-haired man found nothing but honesty in the other's visage. "Do you think so?" he asked quietly.
"Of course. What sorts of projects are you interested in?"
"Well, I've assembled a couple engines in the past, nothing big." Jeremiah's shoulders hunched. "Oh, and I built a computer when I was ten." Bruce's mouth actually fell open. "It was basically worthless junk, though," Jeremiah quickly clarified. "It could only follow the simplest commands." And he'd immediately dissembled it afterwards, knowing it was garbage.
The carousel was looming closer now. "Would you like to take a ride on the carousel?" Jeremiah suddenly interjected. He wasn't sure why he'd asked; he'd outgrown the childish ride years ago. But somehow, spinning slowly under the shimmering lights and nostalgic melody with Bruce seemed very appealing.
Bruce smiled. "Of course." And they found themselves draped on the imitation stallions. Jeremiah leaned back and gazed at the golden mirrored ceiling above slowly draw closer, then pull back, over and over. He caught sight of his reflection, emerald eyes dancing with exuberance.
He didn't know he was capable of tasting such an emotion.
Beside him, Bruce giggled as he, too, tossed his head back with only a single arm loped around the pole. "I haven't done this in years," he called out as they slowly orbited.
"Me too," Jeremiah laughed, leaning all the way back until he was practically supine on the horse. "Hey, you should try this. It's actually pretty comfortable!"
He heard Bruce chuckle. "You're wild, Jeremiah."
"Don't tell Jerome. He'd call you a liar." The two laughed at that.
All too soon, their ride slowly creaked to a stop, the bittersweet music still crooning. "That was fun," Bruce said, his cheeks rosy and hair beginning to rebel against the gelled waves into soft-looking curls. He tugged his collar downwards this time. "I should take you to all of my social events; I feel like I could have a good time anywhere with you."
Jeremiah's heartbeat stuttered and he toyed with his glasses. "Well…I'm always down to take you up on that." Bruce's radiant beam nearly stole his breath. It rivaled all the gleaming lights and colors of the carnival.
"Jeremiah, can I do something for you?" Jeremiah looked at him curiously at that. "What do you mean?" he asked, unsure where this was going.
"Well…" Bruce was pulling on that collar once more. "I noticed what you said about having all these subjects you're interested in studying and not really having an outlet for any of that, so –" he took a breath. "Would it be alright of me to pay for your schooling? You could pick any private school of your choice and I'll fund your tuition."
Jeremiah stopped breathing. His eyes widened. Okay, what did Jerome put in my coffee this morning? Because I have to be dreaming right now…no, I was already dreaming before; now I must be out of my mind. "D-do you really mean that?" he stammered, afraid that Bruce had misunderstood. "I – I can't pay you back, at least not for years –"
"Please, don't worry about that," Bruce assured him. "I don't need the money, believe me. I just want to help you."
"Why?" Jeremiah's voice was quiet, tremulous.
Bruce simply smiled. "Because you're brilliant, and it's a shame your situation's not letting you make more use of it," he replied matter-of-factly. Jeremiah's cheeks blazed.
"Y-you're too kind, Bruce," he babbled, his entire body tingling. "You're so sweet, and beautiful, you can't be real –" Jeremiah clamped his mouth shut, horrified at what he had just said out loud. Okay, now this is a nightmare.
The spark in Bruce's eyes seemed to suggest otherwise. "I think you're flung out of space* too," he whispered.
Their fingers tentatively brushed, Jeremiah shivering at Bruce's warmth. Then they intertwined with one another, holding on tightly.
Jeremiah had a future, all thanks to this amazing man he'd chanced on meeting just four hours ago.
And as Jeremiah dissolved into Bruce's ocean eyes, he thought of just how much he loved the carnival.
*Reference from Carol
A/N: Jeremiah and Jerome's sister is an original character of mine that I am saving for a possible multi-chapter fanfic. Also, I haven't read Atlas Shrugged in a long time nor do I know how how to build a computer, so if I messed those up then apologies! This is my first published fanfic. Thank you so much for reading.