/
"Now that's how you open a show!"
"Are you sure? Don't wanna just scale back that fire, or the noise, maybe, just a little…"
"Stop being such a downer, Carlyle," Lettie laughs as she swings her arms around him and pats the young man on the back, "Live a little, wipe that sour look off your face and come have lunch with us." The group of performers rushed together, from high up in the trapeze to the outskirts of the ring.
"So you really don't like the fire?" Barnum questions, hopping over the ring to join them.
"No, it's…" Phillip trails and looks at the beaming faces of Barnum and their newly hired performers, "Yeah, maybe we just have me stick to the books and the numbers, and you take the lead on everything else."
Phillip could barely believe how much progress they had made in just a few short weeks. Their empty arena has seemingly exploded overnight in colors and lights and music.
To say Phillip was still adjusting would be an understatement.
He joined Barnum on all the casting calls and auditions but didn't feel he was much help. Barnum had the vision, not him. He knew logic reason, and he loved plans… Barnum loved whimsy, and that his show was. Not everyone was just ready to jump on board, but Barnum was convincing. They searched every corner of New York for the best and the brightest, and Phillip had to admit, it was a talented bunch.
He was eager to get to work, planned out the set-up to the last penny, like he was trained to do, and Barnum never stops thanking him for all his help. Seriously, the man practically worships the ground he walks on, all for a few numbers on a spreadsheet, a typed up set list, and a few trips to the dance studio with his girls.
But as Phillip looks around at the dreamy world they've created around him, he can't help but feel so… useless.
"Don't worry about it, son. We've got a packed show for Friday, thanks to you," he tips off his hat and flashes them a smile, "Fantastic work today, everyone, ya know, take the rest of the day. We'll meet up early in the morning tomorrow for a full run though before opening day."
"So, Phillip, looks like you can't make up a lame excuse to ditch us this time," W.D. laughs as he runs over, "Annie's too stubborn to beg, but I ain't too stubborn to do it for her."
"Oh, yeah, thanks guys, but I really should be heading out, I pick up Caroline and Helen on Wednesdays and—" He mumbles as Lettie glares.
"Don't be ridiculous, Phil, I got the girls. Go be a kid for once, and I don't wanna hear that all the seats filled up before you sat down and you were at the end of the table. Suck it up and sit next to Anne," he waves with a wink on his way out past them with jaws dropped in either laughter (W.D. and Lettie) or bright red embarrassment (Phillip, definitely Phillip). "I see you kid, we all do."
"Guess I'm coming to lunch?"
/
Anne was not the social one. That was always W.D.
It was not her idea to invite the entire cast back to their apartment after their late lunch. It was most certainly W.D.'s.
So no one should have expected her to do any more than sit on the couch and quietly observe.
Over the past few weeks Anne had become much more daring than ever before, and not in the trapeze kind of way. There was no feeling quite as terrifying, not even a straight drop down from a swing with no net, as the feeling of making friends. It came easy to her brother, and seeing as their act made them a packaged deal, Anne had no shortage of friendships to be made. And Lettie helped.
"Hey, Little Wheeler, what's got you brooding in a corner?" Lettie strode over and sat down next to her.
"You know I don't like when you call me Little Wheeler," she rolls her eyes.
"But you're my little girl!"
"Yeah, yeah, what do you want?"
"Why you always gotta accuse me of something. Just wanted to talk. You still like being in the show?"
"Of course, I never wanted to admit it, but I think you and my brother were right."
"Oh, I knew it was coming one day!"
"Don't let it get to you, I just, I dunno, I like it here, with all of you guys, even if I'm broody and don't show it."
"Don't worry, I always stick up for you, girl. You obviously save all that beautiful charm for your performances. You truly are one of the best ones in here."
"No, Lettie…"
"Stop it, Little Wheeler, I'm serious! You light up the whole room when you're flying, so don't let your brother bully you into making more friends."
"I have friends!" Anne says defensively, laughing at Lettie.
"No need to explain it to me. The whole cast really likes you, some more than others if you know what I'm saying…" Lettie looks across the room and nudges Anne on the shoulder.
"Okay, no, Lettie, no, this can't be the only thing we talk about ever, okay?" Anne sighs as she follows Lettie's eyes, catches a glimpse of a certain young playwright. "What happened to talking about my dull personality, or you know, I'd even rather talk about that time in practice that my costume ripped that you all found so hilarious."
"Alright Annie girl, I get it. But if you're still looking like a kicked puppy over here in ten minutes, then I'm coming back and we're talking about it."
"I thought you told me I was okay over here!" Anne stands up, objecting, as Lettie starts to walk away.
"I changed my mind," She smirks with a twinkle in her eyes and joins a group of girls in the kitchen.
Anne is left standing in her corner, a nice change of scenery from sitting, and almost musters up the courage to go join the crowd.
But just a few seconds later, someone (someone with very attractive blue eyes, specifically) saves her from her terribly social lapse in judgment.
/
"You okay there, Carlyle?" Anne calls, her hair bouncing behind her. Phillip grabs the last rung on the ladder and swings up on the roof.
"You know, when I said we should escape," he lets out a huff of breath as he joins Anne in the center, "I didn't mean we should use the fire escape."
"All you do is watch us run around performing all day, you could use a little cardio in your life." She laughs, walking towards the setting sun.
"True, I could never do what the whole cast does, especially not what you do," He takes a step forward and brushes against her shoulder as she peeks over the side, then quickly takes a step back, "Have I mentioned that I have an insanely irrational fear of heights?"
"So there is a flaw in you somewhere!" She laughs, hopping up to sit on the ledge of the roof. Phillip visibly pales in horror. Anne looks at him, the right side of her mouth twisted up in an accidental smile, and decides to join him further away from the edge. "I'm up here all the time and nothing's ever happened to me. You'll be fine."
"Easy for you to say! You take death drops from the air willingly!"
"Well I'm not completely fearless. Heights just don't bother me. I love the adrenaline, the rush, the lights and the buzz," she takes a seat and Phillip follows, her knees tucked under her chin and her arms propped behind her. She looks up at the sunset and sighs, "But you get it, don't you, I'm sure I'd practically die at the excitement of having my own show performed for thousands of people."
Phillip thinks about his last play, a dark and dreary drama he'd been pressured to write, and while he thinks he understands the feeling Anne is talking about, he knows he doesn't feel it at the end of a show.
When he gives no answer, Anne looks over at him and says "Well, I've never been much of a writer, but I hear you are. So it has to be at least a little exciting. Like the training trapeze bars W.D. used to make me use."
He turns to her and shrugs, "It's not as fun as you'd imagine."
"Really?" She scoffs, "Always looked like you were enjoying yourself."
"The power of a good drink, Anne. Dulls the pain but also the pleasure. That's just the cost of fame, I suppose."
"I haven't noticed you drinking around our show."
"You don't see me sitting in the office after Barnum adds 12 fire blasters to the set. Or 4 elephants," he looks at her, wide eyed.
"You handle it well. I'd have no hair left if I were you."
"Like I said, power of a drink. Though I do wish I could stop."
Anne tilts her head and looks at him. Phillip Carlyle, a true enigma of a man. It was like he had two different people stuffed inside him. She's seen him carefree and happy, daring, bright. And then other times he'd be cooped up in the office shaking his head, face pale and forehead scrunched in frustration. He stood in the wings, simply observed the show while P.T. screamed at performers left and right. He'd laugh and join them, but there Phillip sat. Just observing.
"Well, why'd you want to join the circus if you hate show business so much?" she challenged.
He looked over at her puzzled, stretched his legs out in front of him and stared at the slowly dimming sky, the last bits of sunlight slipping away. "I don't really know, something felt different, I guess. But once I got there, I realized no matter how many top hats P.T. would throw at me, or how many crazy show tunes I timed to the set, I'm still the snobby rich kid with no personality." Anne laughed beside him. "What's so funny?" he nervously laughed along with her.
"I don't know, you just, you don't strike me as a no personality-type of person. You're way to charming for that."
"Thank you, I think?" He laughs again.
"You know what I mean!"
"You know, I don't think I do."
"Well, for starters, you're the only one Barnum will listen to. I told him fireworks were fire hazards weeks before you did and he insisted they'd be fine. But as soon as you said no, he backed off."
Phillip smiled at the memory. "I guess I do know my way around a ringmaster or two."
"Also, there's all the investors, the companies we use for props and sets. Wouldn't give us a second look if it weren't for you. All those free posters you got thrown in with the advertising order. Don't underestimate the power of that smile of yours," she mimics a big cheesy smile, laughing through her teeth.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Phillip shouts, flashing her said smile.
She shakes her head and spins her body to face him, "And Lettie may look big and tough, but she's a softie. Had been trying to get you to hang out with us since the day she met you. Not to mention Barnum's daughters, founders of the Carlyle fan club."
"I didn't know I had a fan club."
"Of course you do, I happen to be a proud member." She giggles, and as soon as she says it, she regrets it, feeling her cheeks heat up. She tucks her chin and suddenly becomes very interested in the concrete floor beneath her.
"Well, not that you asked or anything, but I happen to be president of the Anne Wheeler fan club."
She suddenly looks back up at him, eyes wide and smile wider. Truly an enigma. An enigma with the most beautiful blue eyes. She feels the moment stretch out forever, like the moment they met in the dance studio, like the space between them is barely there despite their physical distance.
She loses track of how long they spend up there, up on the roof in their own little world, talking like old friends and new lovers all at once. It feels easy, smooth, like gliding through the air on a good day of practice, some of her favorite times to be on the trapeze. And looking at him as the first few stars start to peek out in the now darkened sky, she has a thought.
"You should try the trapeze with me one day."
"Have you lost your mind?" He laughs at her incredulously, "Anne, it is taking everything in me to not scream at the top of my lungs out of fear just sitting up here right now."
"I'll take you with me, I promise I wouldn't drop you."
"Gee, thanks."
"C'mon, Phil, there seriously is no better way to see the circus than from up in the air." She stares at his eyes intensely, feels herself instinctively leaning closer and doesn't know why. "Maybe it'll get you out from hiding on the side of the stage."
"For the record," he starts, and she senses him leaning closer slowly, too, "I'm pretty sure I found you hiding out in the corner just a few hours ago."
"And you showed me how much better it is to not be a loner. Only fair I return the favor," she says, eyebrows raised and eyes twinkling. "We can try to practice right now," she stands up quickly and runs to the side of the roof.
"Anne, no way, don't you—" He screams standing up and running to catch her.
But she's too fast, she hops up and stands on the ledge and watches Phillips eyes grow wide in fear. "Anne, please, I'm gonna have a heart attack. Just, come down."
And all of a sudden, Anne feels very daring. "Make me, Carlyle," she points to the ledge next to her.
He looks up at her, tilts his head, then squeezes his eyes tight and starts to pace back and forth.
"It's not that bad, just hop up and it'll be over," he shakes his head again, she laughs, "I'm doing this for your own good."
"We are about a million feet in the air right now. No way."
"Phil, I know I'm not as scholarly as you, but I doubt there's a million feet between us and the ground."
"You know what I mean, just, don't, please. You're scaring me up there." He turns to face her now, more petrified than before.
"C'mon," she whines, "Suck it up, pretty boy." When he still doesn't budge, she looks him dead in the eye and says something that takes more courage than the hardest trapeze trick she's ever tried: "I'll hold your hand the whole time." She extends her right hand out towards him. He looks at it puzzled, then lets out a weak laugh.
"Anne Wheeler, I have done my fair share of flirting, and I have never had a girl lure me to my certain death just to hold hands."
Her stomach does a back flip.
"I'm not flirting, just being supportive," She says, defensively.
He gives her another look, and though she stares back challengingly, her hand is still stretched out for him.
"You gonna hold it or not, Carlyle? Last offer."
"You take hard to get to a whole new level, Wheeler." He squeezes his eyes shut one more time, and with his eyes still closed, grabs her hand tight, and takes a long deep breath. Then tentatively, peeking through one scared and squinting eye, puts one foot up on the ledge, then the other.
"Look at you! A regular stunt man!" She takes her left and and grabs his other, and tells herself it's just to steady him more (though she can barely fool herself, she knows she just likes the feeling).
"I don't know if this is going to make me appreciate the circus more, or just make me shake in fear at the sight remembering this moment."
"Oh, be quiet. I know for a fact that all you're thinking about is how to make your next move, charmer."
"You are a pretty good distraction from the million feet I could fall if I step the wrong way."
"Oh, really? I must be a distraction when you're sulking in the corner during show rehearsals too. You're my most loyal audience so far."
"Still not flirting?" he challenges, eyebrows raised, holding her hands a little tighter.
She looks up at the now twinkling sky, wishes she could live in this midnight bliss forever.
"Wanna take a step down yet, Carlyle?"
"I'm gonna suck it up for a few more seconds. You never know when you'll let me hold your hands again."
And Anne, always up for a challenge, looks him square in the eyes and says, "Oh, you'd be surprised. You're warming me up to this flirting thing."
/