Chapter 1: Hatching

"I was an idiot to think I had a chance with a girl like you," Jimmy Darling grunted, and just like that he left her standing alone. She fought the urge to call after him, the sound of his name at the back of her throat.

What could she even say?

It didn't matter anyway. Maggie Esmeralda hadn't realized what it meant until the second that she pulled away from Jimmy and saw his face… she didn't even know the words to fix something like this.

But maybe it was for the best, wasn't it? A kid like that... A girl like her-whatever that meant. She found herself trying to remember the way he'd said it: a girl like you. Wrapping her arms tight around her body, she took in a breath of pre-show air and looked over the campground. Her hands still tingled where their skin had touched, his palm beneath her fingertips, and she tried to rub the sensation away. It had felt nice, being that close.

The field was quieter than she had expected it to be with such a big crowd, but all the other performers were now pre-occupied with preparations for the show. When it was just Jimmy's shrinking figure and her shadow laid out before her feet, it was almost easy to forget the Freakshow. Shaking herself from her thoughts, Maggie set off in the opposite direction. She had been spending much too much time dwelling on Jimmy Darling.

Slipping through the striped curtains of her tent, she soon found herself collapsed on her cot. The colorful ceiling of her tent was a welcome distraction from her thoughts, and suddenly she was reminded about having to pull off another reading. Surely, she couldn't just sit around and do nothing, but she hadn't the faintest idea about how one might prepare to tell fortunes.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed, planting her feet on the ground as soon as she heard the whistle. That was his signal.

"Damn it, Stanley, you nearly stopped my heart!" Maggie exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest as she tried to calm her breath.

"Don't get so worked up, Dolly," he smirked, stalking over to her dresser. How long had he even been sitting in her chair? The fingers of his left hand fiddled with her trinkets and costume jewelry as he spoke, "You'll need to keep your head on account of your bit tonight, Mystic Miss Esmerelda. Sold out, huh? Well, fancy that." He hesitated when he came across a pack of her cigarettes. Slipping one from the carton, he turned back to approach her. "Sorry if I rattled your cage, baby, I didn't mean it, I swear. Light me?"

"What do you want? Beside my smokes that is," Maggie asked, raising her eyebrow as she found a pack of matches on her bedside table. He placed the cigarette between his lips and waited as she lit it for him. On impulse, she lit another for herself. "A good smoke will kill the pre-show jitters-"

"You never had stage-fright before."

"I'm not talking stage-fright. Get with it, Stanley, I'm not gonna be able to fool these people much longer," She snapped, smoke escaping her lips and billowing towards the false striped sky.

"You'll figure it out. You have to. We won't stick around much longer. I know you can't stand living with the freaks, and I need the money. Soon. That's why I've come to discuss our plan."

"Of course you did," Maggie rolled her eyes as she moved over to straighten the things atop her dresser. Even as a child, she had always liked things a certain way—every box of crayons was a perfectly ordered color spectrum. Selecting a necklace from her jewelry box, she inspected it in her nearby mirror, holding it up to her chest "So…? What's the story, nightingale?"

"Well, I was on my way here when I happened upon you holding claws with Lobster Boy," he laughed, mimicking pinchers with his free hand. "And, gee, I just got the best idea."

"About Jimmy?" Maggie faltered. "I thought we were after the twins."

"Implicate him and the freaks won't care what we do, he'll be as good as dead to them," Stanley punctuated his genius idea with a drag of his cigarette. "I'll slow it down for you, you get yourself jacketed to Lobster boy and plant the evidence, while I'm getting the girls taken care of. When the freaks find out, which they will, you can play the shocked, disillusioned bird and the fly the coop. This way you don't even have to get your hands dirty, princess. You're welcome."

"Wait a minute… I'm not sure. I don't know-"

Stanley suddenly jumped to his feet. "That's the plan. Now, I've got to go get myself a seat for a sold out show. Tell me, what does your crystal ball predict about our little endeavor?"

The bell Maggie had hung outside her curtain suddenly clanged, and in came Dot and Bette.

"Jimmy sent us to come get you, Miss Esmerelda-" Bette stopped when she spotted Stanley. "Oh, sir, hello," she grinned.

"I'm sorry girls, I was just bowing out," Stanley said with the tip of his hat before brushing past the twins.

"What was he doing alone in your tent?" Dot suggested. "Well, never mind, I think we can guess. How pathetic, gypsie… a man like Mr. Spencer would never give a television job to a tramp like you."

"I've got to go," Maggie mumbled, grabbing a shawl and her crystal ball before brushing past the girls. They would have said something if they had overheard… right?

Her empty hand tightened into a fist. If she were to be perfectly honest, that Dot didn't make her feel all too guilty about Stanley's plan to exploit the twins.

A/N: Thank you so much for entertaining my silliness and reading this word vomit. It would mean the world to me to hear your thoughts/if you're interested in me bothering to continue.

Hero