Summary: Phillip tells Anne that he doesn't have an act. Maybe he's played this character so long that he's accepted it's who he is.

Notes: This story is taking a darker turn into the world of Phillip Carlyle, not everyone from privilege is privileged.

Chapter Text

Phillip staggered into his room and closed the door behind him. He rested his head against the door for a second then locked it. His face bloodied his body ached. He was still slightly intoxicated from his meeting with Phin earlier so it made his nightmare slightly more bearable.

He slumped onto his bed discarding his jacket and tie and kicked off his shoes. His body too weak to do anymore he closed his eyes and reflected on what had just taken place.

He had lost track of time and when he got back to his parents house his mother and father were waiting for him. His dad had never approved of his drinking, nor of his writing however his mother liked his plays and the poems he wrote as she had never really got over the loss of her first born at the age of 5 so Phillips stories comforted her in some small way.

'So what do you call this?' Mr Carlyle sneered at Phillip.

'A man coming in from having another successful play review and a business meeting? I'm an adult and I'm sure I am allowed to stay out and do as I please? Phillip replied, he swayed slightly and smiled as he remembered the first time he had caught a glimpse of Anne on the trapeze.

'You were supposed to attend the after dinner party at Mr Jacobs house'. I wasn't for it but your mother had put in a good word for you and you were going to read some of the poetry that you had written for her. Once again you have brought us shame and we had to make excuses for you. Thankfully Polly did a piano recital instead.'

'Orson, It's ok. Everyone was in raptures over Polly's recital so the night was still a success.' replied Mrs Carlyle

'Margaret I think you should retire for the night, Phillip and I need to discuss this further and I will ensure that he gives you an apology and sees the error of his ways.' Mr Carlyle said coldly.

'Mother I...'

WHHACKKK!

Before Phillip could finish his sentence he felt a pain searing across his chest, bringing him to his knees. He gasped as the shock of it caught his breath.

He smirked slightly, before raising his head to look at his father.

'If only the Jacobs could see this performance. Orson Carlyle the man who hides behind a cane! I'm a grown man and yet you hide behind a cane to still rule this...'

He never finished his sentence before felt the back of his dads hand strike him across the face then a kick to his side caused him to collapse on the floor. He never got a chance to recover before he felt the breathe of his dad on his face as he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt.

'Phillip, you have been a disgrace to me and this family, it should have been you that died, not your sister. Trust me the only reason you're still alive is because your mother needs something to hold onto. Goodness knows why. What kind of man writes plays for a living? It's not normal. I spent time on you and enrolled you in that engineering course and yet you still have your head full of nonsense and don't work for a living like real men.'

'I am a real man', Phillip said, trying not to show any tears.

'Real men don't drink the night away with men like P.T. Barnum. Oh word gets around you know with a man like him, the pretender when you are spotted with him. You were seen talking to him tonight. Damn man's a fool.' responded Mr Carlyle.

Letting Phillip go, Mr Carlyle stood up and took his cane.

'I need to go for a walk' sighed Mr Carlyle. 'Now go and apologise to your mother now or you will wish you had never been born, I won't stand for her being upset like this. And go clean yourself up first you're a disgrace; reeking of liquor, no doubt Barnum helped you pour more of your inheritance down your throat and his'.

Phillip did go to his mothers room but her door was closed.

Knock

'Orson is that you?'

'No, it's Phillip mother.. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I promise.' he said quietly.

A few moments passed and when he got no reply he assumed his mother has gone to sleep so he started to walk away.

'Are you ok Phillip? Your Father does have the best intentions for you, really he does if you just let him.'

His chest heavy Phillip paused before responding.

'I'm ok mother, goodnight and have a safe trip.'

He opened his eyes and gingerly turned over pulling a sheet over him, his ribs hurting and soon he was asleep.

When the afternoon show had finished and the last of the audience had finally left for the day Phin introduced Phillip' to some of the gang who had stayed behind and not went to prepare for the evening show.

'Please to meet you Miss Lutz' Philip said warmly.

Lettie blushed at the sight of the handsome blue eyed man.

'And may I commend you on your wonderful singing voice' said Phillip smiling.

'Lettie are you blushing?' Phin laughed.

'No Mr Barnum she giggled shrinking behind her fan to spare any more blushes.

'Whoops!' Lettie said surprised as she was bustled from the side

'Excuse me, sorry...'. Charles said a grumpy expression on his face.

'And this Phillip is Charles, or as people now know him Tom Thumb' Phin said folding his arms in a puzzled expression as Charles continued to walk past the group.

'Charles don't you want to meet Phillip my new assistant?'

'Do you like horses Phillip?' Charles shouted back.

'Horses? I don't mind them they can be quite friendly why?' Phillip quizzed.

'Good, coz you can try and talk some sense into that giddy son of a mare horse of mine. I swear that goddamn thing is trying to kick me in the head everynight.' And with that Charles disappeared.

Everyone laughed..

Later in the evening Phillip had half heartedly listened to the plans that Phin had been telling him about. Audience numbers had been getting better despite the critics initial reviews and the protestors, well they were kept at bay but still hung about outside.

'People just want to be amazed and see things they've never seen before' Phin said excitement in his eyes.

'I have to admit' Phillip yawned, tiredness catching up with. 'You certainly have brought life back to this old place.'

'Tell me do they still have those old giraffes and that bear? Phillip continued, I remember seeing them when I visited as a child.' It was one of his happier memories.

'Yep they are still there somewhere, I did have them in the museum when we first opened but it was the girls who encouraged me to ditch them instead for live acts'. Phin replied.

'Smart girls.' Phillip concluded but his eyes and thoughts seemed to be somewhere else.

'Everything all right. Phillip?'

'Yes, just lost in my thoughts for a moment, just reminiscing'. Phillip mused.

'Well cherish that thought that you were able to have seen things some kids never get to see.' Phin replied standing up.

'Yes, lucky.' Phillip replied quietly.

'Anyway I can see some of the guys just outside so I'll introduce you to them then we will pop downstairs and see if we can meet hopefully the rest of the cast before they head to the bar'. Phin smiled opening the door.

'Ah, Phillip here is the other half of our trapeze act. W.D Wheeler.'

Phillip introduced himself to W.D but was met with little more than a handshake and a scowl as he looked at Phillip then at Anne who had just started to head downstairs.

'And this is Anne Wheeler, Phillip meet Anne' said Phin

'And what is your act Mr Carlyle?' Anne asked noticing the hip flask in his corner pocket.

'Act?, Oh I don't have an Act', now it was Phillips time to blush slightly.

'Oh everyone has an act Mr Carlyle.' Anne nodded her goodbyes then continued to head downstairs.

Awoken by the thunder and the flash of lightning; the rain lashing against the window. His body still aching Phillip carefully got up and walked over to the washbasin. Splashing some cold water on his face, he started to wash the blood off his face. He pulled off his shirt and inspected the bruising now appearing across his chest. At least this time it was only bruising and not adding to the scars he already had. He sipped some water then eased himself more gingerly back into bed his whole body screaming for some liquor to take the pain away. He was too tired and weak to even contemplate going reaching under his bed for the bottles he kept hidden. Thankfully his parents were going on vacation for two weeks and Phin was meeting him again in a few days to allow Phillip to settle any unfinished business he had before joining the company; so it gave him a few days to recover. Just as he always had to.

'Everyone has an act' ran through his mind and his cheeks felt damp as tears started to fall. Maybe he did have an act but if people really saw the man who was savvy, a little cocky and who could write sell out plays, reduced to this wreck of a man then he would rather keep this act up and not let Phin, Anne or anyone see the real Phillip and his other side.