Because of the nature of this AU, all of the characters are mostly referred to by their first names, but since most of the BoM characters don't have canon first names here's a guide to the fanon names being used in this fic:
Connor - Elder McKinley
James - Elder Church
Chris - Elder Thomas/Poptarts
Eric - Elder Schrader
Noah - Elder Neeley
Kalimba - Maia's ensemble character (This name isn't fanon but also might not be as well known)
Keep these in mind whilst reading and I hope you enjoy this story! - Minon

His mother had told him not to go into the woods at night. Up until now, he had always listened to her. The woods are full of monsters, Kevin, she'd warned. He laughed as he trudged through the dimly lit trees. When he'd been five years old he'd worshipped his parents - thought the world of them. All through his childhood, and for most of his adolescent years he'd gone along with their plan for him. However, over the last few days he'd suddenly begun to doubt himself - to doubt them. He slowly began to see that his family weren't really interested in him, but more his achievements and what he meant for their status. After nineteen years of it, he'd finally had enough. He'd made it clear that he wasn't going to be their trophy child anymore and left the house, taking nothing but the clothes on his back.

He continued through the woods, not knowing where he was going or what he planned on doing. The last thing he wanted to do was return to his home and family. Not after all the things he'd said. Kevin carried on walking, hoping that in doing so, his path forward would become more obvious. It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was anymore. He thought that maybe if he continued, he would find another village further along. Almost immediately, he saw a faint orange glow up ahead. He squinted, trying to make out what it was. Kevin picked up his pace and broke into a slight jog, grateful for a sign of life. As he neared the light, he began to be able to hear voices and laughter, and even faint strains of music. He could see figures moving around and could make out the outlines of caravans and tents. Had he come across a group of gypsies? Kevin's paced slowed as he approached, suddenly wary. He reached the clearing where he could now see an elaborate camp had been set up. He ducked behind a tree, not wanting to be spotted. He surveyed the scene – the orange light he had seen from the woods was a campfire set up in the middle of the caravans. Around the fire, sat a group of people. They were all engaging in conversation, laughing and eating some form of meat that was roasting on a spit over the fire. One of the men around the fire, let out a particularly loud, obnoxious laugh which startled Kevin and caused the other people around the fire to fall silent for a moment. Once the campfire group had resumed chatting, he gazed around the clearing once again. He began to notice that many of the caravans surrounding the campfire were lavishly decorated. His eyes flicked back to the group at the fire - sure enough they were all clothed in what appeared to be costumes of some sort. One man was even wearing a clown suit complete with wig. So this wasn't just a group of gypsies - these were circus performers. Kevin couldn't help but feel a little excited - when he was nine years old, his parents had taken him to the circus when it came to town. It was the most magical experience of his life and ever since he'd had a secret longing to join the performers and travel the world with them. Of course, that was when he was a kid - as he grew older he came to realise that running away and joining the circus wasn't such a great idea. Especially not when the traveling performers who came to their village started getting a reputation for vandalising property and fighting with the villagers. Circus people didn't have such a great reputation in Kevin's town - people thought they were dangerous, unpredictable and wild. People kept their distance and eventually the performers stopped coming. Kevin hadn't seen a troupe like this for years. He wondered whether these people were dangerous, like his village had come to teach him. His fears were confirmed as he saw one of the men throw something sharp and shiny looking in the air and catch it single handedly. From what Kevin could see, that object was a knife. Kevin's heart immediately leapt into his throat. At least one of the men was armed. This meant that if the gypsies were as unpredictable as his parents and teachers had always told him he could be in serious trouble if they found him. He decided that it was time for him to move on through the woods, skirting around the travelers' camp without disturbing them. He carefully exited his hiding place from behind the tree and began to creep away from the light of the clearing. However, in the dark, Kevin failed to spot the tree root protruding from the ground. He caught his foot on it and stumbled, causing him to yelp in pain and alarm. To Kevin's dismay, this alerted the people around the campfire to his presence, and one of them stood up, glaring into the forest, trying to identify the source of the noise.

'Who's there?'

Kevin quickly ducked down behind a bush. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to be caught snooping around.

'Hey! I know you're there!'

Kevin held his breath. He heard footsteps approaching. He wondered whether running would be of any use. Well, it wouldn't hurt to try. He shot out from behind the bush and broke into a run.

'Hey!'

He heard the sound of people pursuing him, so he ran faster. There was a whooshing sound as Kevin felt something fly past his head, but he didn't stop. Another object was hurled, which this time hit Kevin square between the shoulder blades. The force of the object sent Kevin flying face first onto the earthy ground, collapsing painfully over a tree stump. Before he could move, he heard another whoosh and found himself pinned by his sleeve to the log he was lying on – whoever was chasing him had thrown a knife, which had pierced his sleeve and was firmly embedded in the wood. Kevin tried to detached himself from it but to no avail. As he tried to free his sleeve, he heard footsteps come up behind him.

'What have we got here then?' the voice spoke.

Kevin said nothing, frozen in fear. Whoever this man was, he'd just thrown a knife at him!

'Come on, speak up!' the voice spoke again. Again, Kevin did not answer.

'Did you kill him?' a second voice spoke.

'Of course not – if he really is what we think he is, then we want him alive!'

'What do you think I am?' Kevin asked, annoyed at how his voice sounded higher with fear. He tried to crane his neck around so that he could see his captors.

'So you can speak!' the first voice jeered. 'Tell me then – are you a spy?'

'What?! A spy? No!' Kevin protested, fidgeting on the ground. If only he could dislodge the knife somehow, then he could try and make a run for it. He heard the crunch of leaves underfoot as his two attackers closed in.

'Why else would you be snooping around our camp, huh?'

Kevin jumped as the first voice spoke just centimetres away from his ear.

'I wasn't snooping!' Kevin insisted, tugging as his sleeve again.

'Then what were you doing?' voice number two spoke, sounding further away from Kevin than the other man.

'I was just- I'm lost, ok?' Kevin tried to explain, but was cut off as he felt a sharp kick to his side, winding him.

'Save your excuses, we've heard them all before,' voice one snarled. Kevin felt his arms roughly grabbed and rope tied around his hands. The knife was tugged from the wood and he was hoisted onto his feet.

'Let's take him to McKinley – he can decide what to do with him.'

Kevin felt a hand give him a rough shove in the small of the back that indicated he should move. He began to walk forwards, flanked by his captors.

In the dim light of the forest, Kevin could now make out the faces of the two men currently walking beside him. One was fair-haired, and seemed to be wearing an unusual amount of eye make up – Kevin figured that he must be one of the troupe's performers. His gaze fell on the knife in the man's hand. Knife-thrower.

He turned his head and examined the other guy. He was dark haired, and had a gentler face than his companion. And wore less eye make up.

Kevin wondered what kind of spy they thought he was - what kind of circus troupe are on the constant look out for spies? He thought about asking but thought better of it, instead saying,

'Where are we going?'

Neither of the two men responded. They continued to frog-march Kevin back towards the clearing. The light of the campfire grew visible once again as they neared the camp.

'Did you get him?' a voice shouted out from the campfire. As Kevin and the knife-throwers emerged from the trees, he could see that there were a few people still gathered around the fire. The voice belonged to a tubby man, who was sporting a ridiculous costume and face-paint. He was sat next to another man, skinnier by far with blonde hair, who was turning the spit over the fire. Across the circle, was a third man who was polishing a single bicycle wheel.

'We got him alright - but he won't confess,' said the fair-haired man.

'I won't confess because I'm not a spy!' Kevin protested. 'I just ran away from home and got lost and-'

'You ran away from home? Me too!' the clown piped up, grinning.

'And me!' the skinny boy chimed in.

'Guys, don't listen to him, he's obviously lying,' said the knife-thrower, rolling his eyes.

'I dunno, Eric,' the clown said, looking Kevin up and down. 'He seems like a cool guy! And he's a runaway just like us!'

Kevin smiled in relief, hoping that his attackers (one of whom he now knew to be called Eric) would listen to the clown and let him go.

'Listen, Cunningham - it's not up to you what happens to prisoners,' Eric snapped, pointing accusingly at the fatter man's face with his own free hand. 'We're gonna take him to McKinley and he'll tell us what to do with the spy.'

Cunningham flinched slightly. 'Ok, sorry…' he mumbled, turning back to his stool by the fire.

'Where is McKinley anyway?' Eric's partner asked.

'I think he's in his caravan!' the man with the unicycle offered, smiling helpfully.

'Thanks, James,' Eric nodded, yanking on Kevin's upper arm and dragging him away from the campfire and towards the cluster of caravans.

Kevin stumbled slightly as he was once more pushed into walking with the two men. Coming to the conclusion that they weren't going to let him go until they'd referred him to this McKinley person, he stopped trying to extract his arms from the grip of his captors and contented himself with looking around his surroundings, put at ease with the fact that the rest of the gypsies seemed to be less mad than the pair who had captured him. As Eric and his friend lead him further into the heart of the camp, Kevin could see other people sitting around and going about their business. They passed a small tent, outside which sat a plump woman who seemed to be mending something pink and sparkly. She glanced up as the trio passed, raised an eyebrow, but did not comment and soon looked back to her sewing. A few steps on, they turned a corner and passed a caravan that appeared to be connected to a large cage. Inside the cage, was the sleeping form of a lion. A man sat on a chair next to the cage, also asleep. Kevin felt slightly apprehensive as they passed the cage containing the big cat - he'd never even seen a lion before, let along been this close to one.

'Should that man be sleeping…?' he asked, nervously.

'That's none of your business, prisoner!' Eric snapped at him.

'Eric, you don't have to be so mean to him…' The brown haired man mumbled.

'He's a spy, Noah!' Eric hissed, as if under the impression Kevin couldn't hear him.

'Yeah, but you may as well try and be nice - it won't hurt you!' Noah scolded.

Eric scowled but said nothing more.

They moved on, past the sleeping man and lion and came to a halt outside a particularly sparkly caravan. Just as Eric was about to approach the caravan door, it flew open and a man with shaggy blonde hair stumbled down the stairs. Another man appeared in the doorway after him. He was clad in a silky blue dressing gown, with fiery red hair and Kevin could make out the remains of make-up smudged on the man's face.

'Get out and don't come back until you've learned to pay me some respect!' the redhead spat.

'Sure, whatever,' the blonde man shrugged, straightening his shirt. 'But you best remember who funds your little performers...' With that, the blonde man stuck his hands in his pockets and strode away from the caravan, disappearing into the camp. Kevin, Noah and Eric watched him go before turning their heads back to the man at the top of the steps. The man's gaze followed the blonde as he walked away, a pained expression on his face, and he lifted his hand to angrily wipe at his eyes. After a moment, he noticed the trio standing before him and his expression snapped into a winning smile.

'Noah! Eric! What's all this?' he enquired, gesturing to Kevin.

'We found him snooping around the edge of the camp,' Eric stated, shoving Kevin forward so that the redhead had a better view of him. 'He must be one of The General's spies!' Eric adopted a smug expression, as if incredibly pleased with his catch.

Kevin assumed that the man they were talking to must be McKinley - he wasn't quite what he expected of a leader of a circus of runaway gypsies. McKinley stared at Kevin thoughtfully before laughing.

'Eric, what's got into you - this poor boy isn't a spy!'

Eric looked stunned. 'B-but, he was hiding in the bushes!'

'Does he look like he came from the General's camp to you?' McKinley raised an eyebrow.

'Well.. Uh, no, but we never know! He could be hiring people from the village to spy for him!'

McKinley burst out laughing. 'You are ridiculous, Eric!' the redhead said, before looking directly at Kevin. 'What's your name?'

'...Kevin,' Kevin said after a pause.

'And are you a spy?'

'No! I just got lost! I ran away from home, you see,' Kevin explained. There was a pause and for a moment, Kevin thought the redhead wasn't going to believe him. McKinley's ice blue eyes seemed to be piercing right through him, almost like he was trying to read his mind. After a long moment McKinley spoke.

'I believe you,' he said, his face relaxing into a welcoming smile. He looked to Eric. 'Eric, Noah - untie him.'

Eric and Noah looked at each other in confusion.

'NOW, please!'

Eric hastily untied the knotted rope around Kevin's hands, letting him go. Kevin rubbed his wrist, the skin irritated by the rope.

'What are you going to do with the prisoner?' Eric asked, his brow furrowed.

McKinley waved his hand in dismissal. 'He's not a prisoner, Eric - he's a guest!'

Kevin, Eric and Noah all gawked at McKinley, thoroughly confused.

'Don't look at me like I'm speaking Chinese!' McKinley scolded. 'Noah, Eric, be on your way!'

Eric looked like he was going to protest, but Noah grabbed his arm and lead him away, shaking his head, indicating that he thought McKinley wasn't quite right in the head, but not to question him.

Once the knife-throwing duo had vanish, McKinley smiled at Kevin. 'I'm sorry about those two - they're just children really,' he chuckled. Kevin also laughed, but it was forced and nervous. 'Are you alright?'

'Uh, yeah… I guess?' Kevin said, slowly.

'Anyway, do come in!' the redhead said, turning around and retreating into the caravan. Kevin hesitated - should he trust this man? Before he had the time to dither anymore, McKinley reappeared in the doorway.

'Come on then!'

Kevin accepted that he seemed to have no choice in the matter, and quickly scuttled into the caravan after McKinley.

The interior of the caravan was just as flamboyant as the outside. Although the inside of the caravan was rather shabby, it was obvious that McKinley had made an effort to make it look as glamourous as the circumstances allowed. Against one wall there was a dressing table and mirror, which was lined with bulbs and draped with a large red feather boa. On the dressing table was scattered various make up items and a bunch of flowers in one corner. Against the other wall was a bed, which had a dark pink fur throw covering it and a few brightly coloured cushions scattered on top. McKinley swept over to the dressing table and sat down on the stool in front of it.

'Take a seat!' he said, gesturing to the bed. Kevin sat down on the fluffy surface on the bed, still feeling apprehensive.

'You don't have to look so scared - I'm not going to hurt you!' McKinley said, smiling warmly.

Kevin wasn't sure what to say and a somewhat awkward silence filled the room for a moment.

'So, Kevin,' McKinley said. 'You said you ran away from home?'

'Yeah, I did,' Kevin replied, glad that the other man had broken the silence. 'Why is everyone here so interested in that?'

McKinley smirked a little. 'Well, Kevin - all of us here are runaways ourselves!'

Kevin looked a little surprised. 'All of you?'

'In one way or another, yes,' McKinley explained. 'Even the animals!' he laughed, but the joke was lost on Kevin.

The pair were quiet for a moment before Kevin asked, 'Why are you on the lookout for spies?'

McKinley grimaced, turning away from Kevin and removing an earring from one ear. 'It's a lot of uninteresting politics that I don't want to drag you into...' the redhead said, placing the earring down on the dressing table. 'Let's talk about something else - do you perform, Kevin?'

Kevin started. 'Perform? Not really, no...'

'Alright, let me rephrase the question,' McKinley turned to face Kevin. 'Would you like to join our troupe?'

Kevin starred at McKinley. 'You want me to join your troupe?'

'Why not? You've run away from home, you don't have anywhere to go, no way of earning money...'

'How do you know I don't have anywhere to go?' Kevin challenged, defensive all of a sudden. True, he had no plans and no money, but he resented the way that McKinley seemed to assume he was some useless boy who'd run away from his parents in a teenage strop.

'Trust me, Kevin - my entire troupe are runaways - I know how they behave,' McKinley chuckled.

Kevin pouted slightly, put out that this person he'd only just met seemed to be able to read him like a book.

'So what do you say?' McKinley prompted. 'Even if you don't perform we're always in need of an extra hand...'

Kevin considered McKinley's offer for a moment. On the one hand, yes - he had nowhere else to go, but on the other he wasn't sure whether he wanted to just take off with this slightly mad group of travellers. Though, out of all the people he'd met so far, he was finding McKinley the most welcoming. There was also something about the flashy ringleader that intrigued Kevin - never in his life had he encountered anyone so... individual. Everyone he'd spent his time with back in the village had been so understated and boring. Compared to his lifestyle at home, he had to admit that McKinley's offer was extremely tempting.

'Well, no matter what your decision, you may as well stay the night,' McKinley stood abruptly, tightening the ties of his dressing gown. 'It's much too late for a young boy to be wandering the woods alone!'

The redhead made his way over to the door and beckoned for Kevin to follow him. Confused, Kevin stood from the bed and followed McKinley out of the caravan and down the little flight of steps onto the earthy ground.

Once they were out in the open, McKinley began to stride towards the rest of the caravans - Kevin had to jog a little to keep up with him.

'Where are we going?' Kevin asked, just managing to keep behind the ringleader.

'You can sleep in Arnold's caravan,' McKinley said cheerfully, over his shoulder.

Kevin was going to probe further but was starting to notice that McKinley never properly answered his questions. Just another thing that made the redhead so mysterious.

They continued walking for a moment before a voice hailed them from one of the caravans at the side.

'Mr McKinley!'

McKinley stopped, nearly causing Kevin to crash into him. The pair turned to where the voice came from and saw a man waving at them. The man wore a toothy grin as he beckoned them over.

'Gotswana! What can I do for you?' McKinley beamed, as if a teacher talking to a particularly favoured pupil.

Gotswana turned around and retrieved a box from under the stool he had been sitting on. 'I have been working on a new set of costumes for my little performers,' he said, enthusiastically, his thick accent clearly present.

Kevin immediately noticed McKinley's expression change from one of eagerness to apprehension.

'Gotswana, I really think-'

'I made them just like yours - see?' Gotswana opened the box in his hands - inside were a handful of fat pink maggots, much to Kevin's disgust. Each of the maggots were wrapped in sparkling pink fabric and were wriggling slowly around the box.

Kevin's expression of horror was mirrored on McKinley's own face. However, the redhead's features soon changed to a state of increasing exasperation.

'Look, Gotswana, we've talked about this...'

Gotswana's smiled faltered slightly. 'You do not like them?' he asked, his tone reminiscent of a wounded puppy.

'No! No, I love them!' McKinley said hastily, evidently not wanting to hurt the man's feelings. 'I just think that...' he paused, tapping his chin, as if pondering how to phrase his next sentence. 'I think that maybe, making your, em, performers costumes is a little, well uh… fruitless… ' McKinley tailed off, wafting his hands to make his point. Gotswana stared at the ringleader for a moment. 'You think the costumes need more fruit?'

McKinley slapped his hand to his forehead. 'Look, you know what, it doesn't matter - the costumes are lovely, Gotswana...'

Gotswana beamed and replaced the box lid. He turned to look at Kevin for the first time, with a curious expression on his face. McKinley looked from the maggot enthusiast to Kevin and realised that some sort of introduction had yet to be made.

'Oh, yes! Gotswana - this is Kevin - he's joining our troupe!' the redhead beamed.

Gotswana extended a hand and Kevin took it, though regretted it as his hand was crushed in the dark skinned man's strong grip.

'Welcome, Kevin!' Gotswana said, grinning and nodding his head.

'Uh, hi,' Kevin managed, still overwhelmed by his entire situation.

'You must come and visit Gotswana's Magnificent Maggot Circus!' Gotswana insisted, letting go of Kevin's hand and gesturing to the box in his other hand.

Kevin eyed the box warily. 'Uh, sure!'

'Well anyway, I was just showing Kevin to his sleeping quarters,' McKinley said loudly, placing an arm round Kevin's shoulders and steering him away from Gotswana. 'Goodnight, Gotswana!'

'Goodnight Mr McKinley! Goodnight Kevin!' Gotswana called after them as they swiftly walked away.

'Sorry about him,' McKinley said as they carried on their way. 'He's a sweet man, but takes those gosh darned grubs way too seriously...' he shook his head, indicating that he was thoroughly done with Gotswana and his maggots.

Kevin stifled a laugh, amused at how irritated McKinley appeared to be by Gotswana's maggot circus.

They walked a little further until they reached a rather tatty looking caravan - certainly tatty in comparison to McKinley's own quarters. McKinley strode up to the door and gave it a sharp tap with one knuckle. The pair heard a scuffle and a voice shout; 'Coming, one second!'

Kevin and McKinley waited outside the caravan for a moment until the door was yanked open and the same tubby man from the campfire appeared in the entrance. He had since changed out of the costume and wiped off most of the facepaint, though smudges of white still remained at his hairline and chin.

'Arnold, this is Kevin-' McKinley was cut off by Arnold pointing excitedly at Kevin.

'You're the guy that Noah and Eric pulled in!' he said, cheerfully. 'So you're definitely not a spy, huh?'

'No, of course he's not,' said McKinley, a slightly irritated tone to his voice. 'Has everyone in this troupe gone mad and forgotten that everyone from the General's camp is from Africa?'

'Yeah, but in the dark Eric and Noah might not have been able to tell,' Arnold pointed out.

'It doesn't matter - he is not a spy and he's joining our troupe!' McKinley's face lit up as he beamed at both Arnold and Kevin.

'Cool!' Arnold said, also grinning. He turned to Kevin and addressed him. 'What's your special talent? Are you an acrobat? Can you juggle? I tell jokes and stories and sometimes poems too but Eric says my poems are too creepy. Also I play the trumpet sometimes too, but I don't think I'm very good at it…'

Kevin had to lean back slightly as Arnold's enthusiasm invaded his personal space.

'I don't really, uh, have a "special talent",' Kevin said, shrugging. Arnold looked disappointed at this revelation.

'Oh... Well maybe you'll discover it soon! I didn't know I could write poems until recently!' Arnold cackled, his laughter grating against the two other boys ears. Kevin winced, and thought he saw McKinley do the same. There was an awkward pause after Cunningham's extraordinary laugh which was broken by McKinley.

'Arnold, I thought Kevin could sleep in your caravan - could you go and make up the other bed?' he said, smiling sweetly at Arnold.

'Sure thing, boss!' Arnold cheerfully saluted McKinley and promptly disappeared into the caravan. Once he had gone, Kevin turned to McKinley.

'Thank you for letting me stay,' he said. 'Even though you barely know me and have no reason to want to help me...'

McKinley took both Kevin's hands in his own and looked him straight in the eye, his piercing eyes serious. 'Runaways stick together, Kevin. If I've learnt anything in my time on the road, it's that.'

Kevin nodded slowly, transfixed by the McKinley's eyes. 'Thanks... McKinley,' he said at last.

'Connor,' the redhead said, smiling and breaking the tension.

'Connor...?' Kevin questioned, unsure what McKinley meant.

'Call me Connor - McKinley's my last name. Only Gotswana and Eric pretending to be important call me McKinley,' Connor said, laughing softly. 'And assuming that Kevin is your first name-'

'It is,' Kevin interjected, rather unnecessarily.

'Well then - if I call you by your first name then it's only fair for you to call me by mine!'

The two men smiled at each other, eyes locked together once again. After a moment, Connor broke the eye contact, looking down at his feet. Before Kevin had time to register the action, Arnold reappeared at the door, clutching a white pillow.

'I've made up the bed!' he grinned, hugging the pillow.

Connor looked at Kevin once again and smiled.

'Sleep well, Kevin, we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow...' he said before twirling around and walking away in the direction of his own caravan. Kevin watched him go, admiring the way Connor's robe swished behind him as he walked. Kevin was broken out of his trance by Arnold clearing his throat.

'Sooooooo...' said Arnold, rocking back and forth on his heels. 'Wanna come in?'

'Sure,' Kevin nodded. Arnold retreated into the caravan, followed closely by Kevin. Arnold paused and let Kevin pass him into the cramped space, shutting the door behind them. Arnold's caravan seemed to be slightly smaller than Connor's had been - it was distinctly lacking in decor, the only feature on the walls being a few flyers from what seemed to be theatre plays and book covers. The covers on both narrow beds were plain white and simple - though both were slightly grubby, as if they hadn't been washed. Kevin wondered whether they had. In the far corner, was a small table with a large object on top, which was hidden by a patchwork blanket. Arnold squeezed past Kevin and sat down on the bed next to the covered shape. Kevin took this as his cue to sit down on the other bed. The only light in the caravan was a small paraffin lamp on the counter near the door, and in the light it cast, Kevin could just about make out Arnold's grinning face.

'So, why'd you run away?' Arnold said, hugging the pillow to his chest and eagerly leaning forward.

This guy sure didn't waste time with small talk, Kevin thought to himself. He scratched the back of his head, leaning back slightly as once again, Arnold invaded his personal space.

'Uh, well... uh... gee...' Kevin mumbled. He wasn't sure how to phrase it - that and the fact that it all seemed so silly now.

'Go on! I always find it's better to talk to someone to get things off your chest, otherwise they just eat you up from the inside out,' Arnold encouraged.

'Uh, well..' Kevin started again. He paused, cleared his throat and continued. 'Well, my parents always wanted me to be the best..'

'That must be nice!' Arnold interjected. Kevin glanced at him, and Arnold looked embarrassed. 'Sorry, go on.'

'Yeah, well they wanted me to be the best and I tried my best, I got good grades, I attended Sunday school, I was top of every class I was in - but it was never quite enough for them, you know? They just kept pushing me for the next great thing and then I guess one day I just couldn't take it anymore,' Kevin stopped.

'Uh huh?' Arnold nodded, hanging onto every word.

'I started to doubt the life I was living... I felt like it wasn't my life. So one day I just kinda... snapped - and I ran away,' Kevin concluded, letting his hands fall into his lap.

'Wow,' breathed Arnold, as if he'd heard the most thrilling tale of all time. Kevin couldn't help but laugh a little.

'It's not that interesting,' he said, shrugging. 'It was pretty stupid, really...' Kevin tailed off, wondering how what his family were doing right now. Were they looking for him? Would a search party burst into the clearing any moment and make him go back? He shook his head. They wouldn't come after him. They were ashamed of him now. The once perfect Kevin Price had turned sour and brought shame on the Price family name. He looked back to Arnold.

'So what's your story?' he asked. Connor had said the entire troupe were runaways - there had to be some interesting tales to be told here.

'Me?' Arnold asked, seemingly surprised that Kevin had bothered to enquire. 'Oh, it's really not that cool...'

'Hey, I didn't think my story was very cool!' Kevin chuckled.

Arnold chewed his lip before saying. 'I didn't exactly run away - I just left.'

'Isn't that the same as running away?' Kevin asked.

'Not really,' said Arnold, in a small voice. 'My family were never that proud of me. To be honest, I think they were a bit ashamed..' Arnold paused, hugging the pillow tighter. 'One day I realised that I was never gonna make them proud so I just left. I knew they'd be better off without me.'

Kevin was silent. From what he'd heard, it sounded like Arnold's family were the polar opposite of Kevin's. He couldn't decide which was worse. 'I'm sorry,' Kevin mumbled.

'Don't be!' Arnold said, his tone a little more cheerful. 'They're better off without me and I'm better off without them!'

Kevin couldn't help but smile at Arnold's enthusiasm, though he still felt sorry for the poor boy. Arnold beamed back at Kevin and a pregnant pause fell between the two.

'Should we get some sleep now?' Kevin suggested, tentatively.

'Oh, yeah! Yeah, we probably should - we've got to be up early to help pack up,' said Arnold, placing the pillow down on the bed and wriggling between the covers.

'Pack up?' Kevin said, alarmed.

'Yeah! We're due to move onto the next village tomorrow - didn't Connor tell you?'

Kevin was quiet as he digested this information. Now he understood what Connor had meant when he'd said they 'had a big day ahead of them'. That meant that if he stayed tonight, there would be no returning to his family. He could just get up now, leave the camp and find his way home. But he didn't. He knew deep down that he wasn't going to go back to the place he once called home.

'No, he didn't,' he said, finally.

'Oh,' Arnold shrugged. 'Could you turn the lamp off?'

Kevin glanced at the small lamp on the counter. 'Sure,' he leant over and turned the knob down until the entire caravan was plunged into darkness.

'Thanks, buddy!' Arnold's voice thanked from the darkness.

Kevin felt his way under the covers and pulled them tight around him. As he lay in the darkness, it only just hit him what was happening. In the space of only a few hours, he'd run away from home, been kidnapped by knife-throwers, met an extraordinary ringleader and joined the circus. He couldn't quite believe it was happening and half expected to way up any second. But he didn't wake up. He remained in the bed that was slightly too small for him, in a caravan with a clown, in the middle of a dark forest surrounded by half mad gypsies. Part of him felt that he should be afraid - but it was a different sort of fear. An apprehensive fear. It was exhilarating, exciting. This was the adventure Kevin had always longed for. As his eyes fluttered shut, his mind was filled with memories of the circus he had seen when he was nine years old. He remembered the glittery costumes and the glamourous acrobats, the fearsome lion and the majestic elephant. The weight lifter, lifting terrific tons of steel - the clowns doing funny dances and throwing cream pies in each others' faces. Even the small details like the smell of the big top, the candyfloss he'd eaten and the crowded circus grounds. Sleep soon claimed him and he fell into a slumber filled with dreams of the circus - and curiously enough, a pair of ice blue eyes, shrouded in a red feather boa.