A Flair for Show Business
As a child, Tina had enjoyed being in the air; whether she was climbing trees or jumping from furniture, she loved the feeling of being off the ground. It had made her feel like she could fly, that she was free, if only for a single second. Queenie had followed her sister's example, much to the amusement of their parents: where Tina went, Queenie would follow, and they did almost everything together. It was a good life, and while their family wasn't rich by any means, they had a home and were happy.
But then their father had gotten sick, some mysterious illness that no doctor could cure, and their mother followed shortly after: the disease claimed them both within a week – and the girls were left orphaned.
They had had no other family to take them in, and so they were alone in the word – nothing but each other. They were forced onto the streets, resorting to stealing just so they could eat, and they struggled to survive. As the oldest, Tina knew she had to step up and take care Queenie – had to make sure she was protected, that she survived. She was in charge of her baby sister now, and she wanted to take care of her as best as possible – for their parents.
And then, one afternoon in December, whilst they were trying to escape a hiding from one of the store keepers they had stolen food from, they ran into Percival Graves.
He was an upper-class gentleman from a respectable family, one of the most eligible bachelors in New York – but he took one look at the two orphaned girls, at their dirty faces and torn clothes, and immediately took them in. They had been wary, particularly Tina (smart girl, he had thought to himself) to follow him, but when he prepared them a large dinner and offered them his bed, they seemed to warm to him.
"Where are your parents?" He had asked the following morning over breakfast as both of the girls dug in eagerly.
"Dead," Queenie informed him, and she frowned sadly. "Just me and Teen."
It took him only a fleeting second to make up his mind: two little girls wouldn't survive on the streets, especially not in this weather, and he couldn't have that. Once they'd finished eating, he informed them that they were welcome to stay for as long as they needed to; he took the day off from his father's business, using it to go out and buy new clothes for the girls as well as fresh blankets. There were two beds in the guest room, so he made them up and offered them to the girls.
A part of him was, truthfully, thrilled when they didn't leave. They weren't a family, not quite, but he had grown fond of them fast despite himself – and, unwittingly, the Goldstein sisters had grown fond of Percival Graves too.
As he soon found out, his family didn't approve of him taking in two orphaned girls, deeming them 'sewer rats' and disowning Percival completely; he no longer had a job in his father's business, no inheritance, nothing. He knew needed a way to provide for the two girls after this, a way to give them a good life, but word spread quickly among the upper-classes and businesses – it was near impossible for him to find a long-term job. With the rest of his earnings that were left over from his time in his father's business, he had bought an old closed down museum; all that was left were dusty stuffed animals and artefacts, but he was desperate. He racked his brain for ideas on what he could do with the place, how he could start his own business, something that people would enjoy and pay good money to see.
It had been Queenie who'd given him the idea when she and Tina came with him to the abandoned museum, peering around curiously and looking at a tall giraffe model. "I wish it was alive," The blonde girl had said thoughtfully. "I wish everything was alive, like real elephants and lions and…and mermaids!"
Tina gave her sister a look. "Mermaids aren't real."
"They might be – maybe they're hiding underwater and explorers haven't seen 'em yet." She took Percival's hand, beaming happily. "You should get alive animals, Percival, and get people to look after them…and maybe people to dance and do shows, I think people would like that!"
"It's not a circus, Queenie," Tina muttered, though she looked intrigued too.
Later that night, after the girls had gone to bed and he was thinking things over, he considered what Queenie had said – and he realized she'd been right. Live shows were bound to generate some interest, he reasoned, particularly for families looking for a day out; maybe not wild animals (not yet anyway), but surely there'd be people with interesting acts to share. Families would be sure to love that kind of thing, and there was good money to be found in running a circus – provided he did it right, that was.
After putting out notices for acts of all kinds – singers, dancers, acrobats, even just unusual people – he'd been overwhelmed with the response; interviewing them all took days, and it seemed that in no time at all he'd gathered a troupe of interesting and curious acts for the public to watch. Most of them were people who couldn't find employment elsewhere, particularly due to their skin colour or where they came from, but that didn't matter to Percival – not if they could all make some money with what made them unique.
Word spread fast, and it wasn't long until anticipated crowds were turning up, curious to see the strange things advertised in the paper and on buildings; the crowds only continued to grow and grow, reaching people of all kinds across the country. Acts retired over the years, but Percival had found that there was never a shortage of oddities who came looking for work in his show – there were so many, in fact, that it was possible to alternate acts from night to night.
Tina and Queenie had loved coming to both rehearsals and to shows, and the whole circus loved seeing them just as much as they enjoyed seeing the acts – in an odd way, the circus quickly became a second family to the girls, a place they could call home. To add, Percival knew he could rely on any of the performers to watch the girls while he worked in his office, and the girls were always good as gold; it was an almost-perfect arrangement.
It was only a few months after the circus' first show when Percival had left his office to find both of the girls twisting and swinging from the trapeze ropes with two of the professional aerialists nearby – and he'd nearly had a heart attack at the sight.
"Both of you, get down from there!" He called up sternly, trying to control the fear in his voice. "Get down before you break your necks!"
"Ah, come on, Percy," One of the aerialists had jibed good-naturedly. "They're in safe hands – we're not about to let anything happen to them. Besides, they're naturals at it."
"We could make a trapeze act outta them yet," Another agreed, grinning and chuckling.
When both of the girls had gotten their feet on the ground, they ran to him; the excitement on their faces was unmissable, their joyful giggles ringing through the building as they bounded over to him.
"Did you see that, Percival, we were so high-!"
"-Please can we do it again, Percival-?"
"Susan and Walt can teach us, they're the best-"
"Percival, please let us learn how to do it like them!"
It was undeniable – he, Percival Graves, had a weakness for these girls. The whole circus troupe had taken to teasing him over it, and he'd ignored it or tried to brush it off – but it was the truth. They had him wrapped around their little fingers, and he couldn't do anything about it.
Looking between them and taking in their wide eyes and bright smiles, he knew he was beaten.
Over the years, it had become a ritual for the troupe to go out for drinks after the evening show and catch up; thankfully, the owner of the local bar didn't have any problem with a group of 'oddities' in his establishment, so long as they paid, and he didn't stand for any nonsense – those who attempted to start fights or who started to fling insults were thrown out immediately. Given the popularity of the show, each of the performers had been given a small pay raise – which meant more drinks in the evening, much to everyone's pleasure. Not everyone went out every night – some preferred to stay in their tents most nights, only going out when the mood struck – but there were always at least a few people who ventured out for a drink, not returning until the early hours of the morning.
Tina, personally, was more inclined to rest in the tent she and Queenie shared, tired after performing each night – but her sister insisted that they go out a few nights a week, just for fun, and she couldn't bring herself to hold her back. Queenie was the social butterfly of the circus, the blonde beauty who many audience members were dazzled by under the lights, and perhaps if she hadn't been an aerialist – if circumstances had been different – she could have even been accepted into high society.
In contrast, Tina preferred to keep to herself and her sister; she was friendly with the others, of course, and she enjoyed their company, but she was nowhere near as social as her sister. There was nothing ugly or particularly strange about her, nothing that would alienate her in 'normal' society like some of the others, but it was undeniable that her sister was the beauty of the two of them. She didn't care, and there was no bitterness on her part: other than the circus, Queenie was the only thing she had left in the world – they had to stick together to survive.
That evening's show had been particularly tiring, partly due to the fact the sisters had worked hard all week on new tricks – it had been completely worth it, in the end, if the ovations from the crowd were anything to go by. All Tina wanted to do was get out of her leotard, take off her make-up and head to bed for an early night; there would be rehearsals the next morning, new routines to work on, and she needed the energy. As soon as the show ended, she headed backstage and to the changing area reserved for her and her sister; she made sure to pull the privacy curtain before working on taking off her costume.
No sooner had she stripped herself of it, the curtain was yanked open and Queenie appeared, glowing with excitement. "There you are, Teen!"
Tina hurriedly reached for her blouse and sent a pointed look at her sister. "Queenie, shut the curtain!"
The blonde huffed but closed it again before shrugging out of her own leotard. "You're not completely naked, Teenie… Anyway," She brightened up again. "We did good tonight, Teen! The crowd loved us!"
The older woman had to suppress a smile. "I know."
The sisters were just hanging up their costumes when Percival appeared; he glanced over the two of them, obviously checking that they were both dressed, before stepping into their changing area. He was still dressed in his ring-master outfit, the gold buttons on his coat newly polished and gleaming in the light; he smiled at the two of them, although there were definite traces of tension on his face too – it wasn't difficult to figure out why. "Excellent show tonight, girls – the crowd loved those new tricks!"
"They were Tina's idea," Queenie hummed, and Tina flushed at the praise. "She spent days coming up with 'em!"
"Well, it paid off," He assured them, smiling even wider. "At this rate, I'm going to have to give you both pay raises. Anyway," He shifted on the spot, straightening his coat out. "I wanted to ask what you ladies will be doing this evening; the others have already headed out to O' Malley's if you want to join them."
Queenie cast a glance at her sister, looking slightly hopeful; Tina hesitated, avoiding both of their eyes and instead looking at the floor. "I…wasn't planning on going with them," She answered carefully, and her sister's shoulders drooped. "But you can both go if you want – don't let me hold you back."
"It ain't the same without you," The blonde huffed, disappointed as she folded her arms. "We never go with 'em, Teenie; it could be a load of fun."
"I know, but…but I'm really tired," She muttered, guilt rushing over her. "But you can go without me, Queenie – I'll be fine on my own. Go have fun."
Queenie still looked uncertain, biting her lip and gazing at her sister pleadingly; Percival stepped closer to the taller woman, giving her a serious and concerned look. "Tina, you haven't been out with everyone else in so long… I understand you're more of a solitary person, but these are people you can trust; this circus is a family for everyone, regardless of where they come from or who they are. You're a young woman, and you should be out having fun like everyone else – not sitting in a tent on your own."
"I know, Percival," She sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the spot. "I'm sorry, I know I should go out with everyone else more – even if it's just once a week or something – but I guess I just feel…awkward. Unsure of what to say, even if I do know them." Tina hesitated, looking between Percival and Queenie before taking a deep breath. "I guess…I guess one drink wouldn't hurt."
The blonde's face lit up with excitement, and their mentor chuckled quietly. "That's the spirit, Tina! Tell you what, you girls head to the bar and I'll come meet you after I've taken care of everything here; tell everyone to put their drinks on my tab."
As he turned away and left their curtained-off area, Tina couldn't help but smirk as Queenie giggled. "He's going to regret that," She said dryly. "Once he realizes just how much they're all drinking."
It was still relatively early in the evening when the show had finished, certainly too early to go to bed, and so Newt had decided to go for a drink somewhere; he didn't want to wander too much around New York, given how unfamiliar he was with it, and so he settled with a bar that was just around the corner from where the circus was – it would be more than easy for him to navigate his way back to his hotel, at any rate. Trying to push the thoughts of the trapeze girl from his mind, he pulled his coat tighter around himself and stepped into the bar.
It was, admittedly, somewhat of a dive; it didn't look particularly clean, there was no one except for the bartender inside, and it looked rather deserted. Having said that, it meant more peace and quiet – far better than being packed in tightly with drunks looking for a fight. Satisfied, Newt took a seat at the bar and ordered a whiskey while he thought of where he was to go next.
His trip to America had been an impulsive one, more of an escape than anything else: the memory of his brother, Theseus, announcing to everyone at one of their parents' dinner parties that he was to wed Leta Lestrange, the daughter of another upper-class family, was far too painful. It was unbearable to imagine having to face his brother at this moment, having to congratulate him and pretend to be pleased, when his heart felt like it was breaking all over again. His parents would want him home soon, however, not wanting rumours to spread of his disappearance: a scandal was the very last thing they wanted – it was already difficult enough to preserve their image, given that he had managed to get himself expelled from one of the most prestigious schools in England.
I'll need more than one whiskey to make this more bearable, Newt thought miserably.
He had been halfway through his second drink when the bell above the door jingled to indicate new people; when he cast his gaze over to the door, he was shocked to see that several members of the circus had appeared. They were out of costume, but still easily recognizable; the black woman with the turban, the lady sporting a beard, someone tattooed from head-to-toe, many others. He tried not to feel too disappointed when he realized that the girl he'd seen performing trapeze was not among them.
The group didn't even seem to notice him sitting there, instead starting to drink immediately; they were a rowdy bunch, rather loud but cheerful as they laughed and bantered with one another. It was a sharp contrast to the parties thrown by the wealthier classes, and yet, for some reason, Newt couldn't help but wish that he could join them. Other members from the circus trickled in, joining their friends and toasting to another successful show without a care in the world – and yet, there was still no sign of the trapeze artist he'd been mystified by.
Perhaps I imagined her, he thought humourlessly to himself, and while he knew that realistically it wasn't possible, he still couldn't help but think it was more and more likely with every minute that passed. What would Theseus say if he saw me like this? Rather, what would Mother and Father say? I can't imagine they'd be terribly pleased – they'd probably accuse me of having no shame, ruining the family name perhaps.
These thoughts weren't helping in the slightest; sighing to himself, Newt signalled to the bartender with the intention of ordering another drink for himself – anything to numb the unpleasant thoughts in his head. "Excuse me, sir-"
"Hey, O' Malley; two shots of whiskey – the good stuff."
And there she was, standing right beside him and leaning against the bar: the beautiful young trapeze artist.
Upon entering O' Malley's, Queenie had immediately made her way over to a corner occupied by the other performers, beaming and in her element; left behind, Tina had huffed quietly and decided to get drinks for her and her sister. There was only one other person at the bar, and he seemed lost in thought – certainly not the kind to start fights with 'circus freaks', like so many others did, and she found herself relaxing somewhat. It was easier to be comfortable with the knowledge that there'd be no heckling, no abuse tonight: it meant that she and Queenie would be safe, which was the important thing.
"Hey, O' Malley," She called, leaning against the bar. "Two shots of whiskey – the good stuff."
O' Malley gave her a nod before quickly pouring her drinks; from the corner of her eye, Tina noticed the lone gentleman looking at her – there was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn't say what. He was staring, rather dazed and wide-eyed, as if surprised that she had appeared: he had most likely seen the show and recognized her.
Wanting to be polite, she gave him a small smile. "Evening, sir."
For a moment he was silent, still gazing at her with wide-eyed awe – and then he seemed to come to his senses, hurriedly straightening up and avoiding her eyes. "Oh, yes…erm…good evening."
He sounded British – he certainly wasn't from New York, that was for sure – and, judging by his clean pressed clothes, he was one of the upper-class. It was somewhat strange, for usually the wealthier classes looked down on their circus; she'd been on the receiving end of many disgusted looks from such people, and it always made her feel rather ashamed.
By this point, O' Malley had finished pouring the two shots of whiskey and was sliding them across the bar to her. "Let me guess," He muttered knowingly. "Percy's tab?"
"Percy's tab," She agreed, giving him a grin. "Same goes for everyone else – he said he'll pay at the end of the night."
"The man's got too much money," He chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, Goldstein, you enjoy your drinks; I'll be right here if you need anything."
The British man was looking at her again, though he was obviously trying to hide it; Tina couldn't help but raise a brow at him, somewhat confused. "You gonna keep staring?"
"I…Sorry," He said, rather flustered; his face had gone rather pink. "I was just…the show this evening, you were…I mean, the entire show was rather fantastic, of course, but your act was…breath-taking."
Pride flooded right through her at his words, and she was sure that her cheeks were going red; she'd heard all kinds of words used to describe her and Queenie's act, but 'breath-taking' hadn't been one of them. It left something in her stomach fluttering pleasantly. "Well…thank you," She managed, and her smile suddenly turned shy. "I'm glad you liked it – we've been working hard on those tricks for weeks, so it's nice to know it's all paid off."
An awkward silence fell between them as both of them debated what to say; the man looked somewhat embarrassed, certainly out of place in this bar, and Tina couldn't help but wish she knew what to say instead of just standing there uselessly. After a moment, the man turned back to his drink and stared at it, now going a rather dark shade of pink in the face.
"Well, thanks," Tina said, glancing over at where the other members of the circus were waiting; Queenie was watching her intently, clearly intrigued by what was being said. "Glad you enjoyed the show, sir. Have a good evening."
"Yes," He agreed politely. "Yes, have a good evening."
Not wanting to linger any longer and create any more awkwardness, she crossed the room and made a beeline for Queenie; her sister gestured to the gentleman in interest. "So?"
"So?" Tina repeated as she sat down, still feeling somewhat out of place from the conversation that had just taken place.
"Who's the fella? Anyone interesting?"
"Just a guy who watched the show earlier," She muttered, trying to shrug it off. "It was kinda awkward…he liked our act though."
Queenie beamed brightly. "He said that? How sweet!" She glanced at the man again, studying him and clearly thinking to herself. "Hmm…he looks real lonely over there, Teen. Maybe we should invite him over?"
"I don't think so – like I said, he seemed real embarrassed. Besides, he's dressed like a swell; last thing a guy like him wants is to be sitting with people like us."
"Like us? We're no different than anyone else," The blonde said, somewhat hurt.
"I didn't mean it like that," Tina assured her hurriedly. "I know that, and you know that – everyone here knows that – but you know what the high-brows are like. They think they're better than everyone else just 'cause they have money."
Queenie huffed. "Percival weren't like that, not even before he lost all his money. Besides, that guy doesn't look so bad – just shy, I think."
"You're probably right," She agreed with a sigh. "I dunno, Queenie…I think we're better off just leaving him alone. Like I said, he just seemed really awkward and embarrassed about the whole thing – let's not make him feel any more uncomfortable."
Her sister didn't look too happy about it, but she nodded and picked up one of the shot glasses filled with whiskey. "Alright, fine…let's just have fun tonight, Teen! We ain't been out together in a long time!"
It was more than easy to fall into the comfortable chatter of the other members of the circus, laughing and joking with them as they celebrated another show gone well – it didn't take long for the young British man to be driven to the back of her mind at all.
Meanwhile, Newt was silently cursing himself for being so inept at conversation and at embarrassing himself in front of the trapeze artist; she was even more beautiful up close, he'd found, and he'd had to do his best not to stare at her. It didn't surprise him that she'd looked rather put off by his attempt at conversation – that was the usual reaction, after all – but he still wished he could have said or done something slightly smoother.
He was just contemplating leaving, going back to his hotel room perhaps, when someone appeared at the bar beside him and a smooth familiar voice spoke.
"O' Malley, my usual? Thank you."
It was the ringmaster, Percival Graves; although he was no longer wearing his top hat and bright red coat, he was easily recognizable by his handsome features, his dark hair streaked with silver. Waiting for his drink, his eyes drifted over the bar, taking everything in with clear precision – and then they rested on Newt, and his expression changed.
"I know you," Mr Graves stated, and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "You were there tonight, correct? Sera said you were there last night too."
"Oh, erm…yes," Newt affirmed, averting his eyes once more.
O' Malley returned with the older man's drink, exchanging a few short pleasantries with him before returning to wiping down the bar; as he did so, Mr Graves turned back to Newt and leaned against the bar casually.
"So," He said coolly. "You enjoy our show then?"
"It's…rather wonderful, yes."
"You sound British," He continued, unperturbed by any awkwardness present. "What brings you to New York?"
Newt hesitated – the truth was far too complicated to give to a stranger, and not something he particularly wanted to discuss. "Just…felt like a short holiday, I suppose. Your show has been the highlight of my visit, though, if we're being honest."
"Glad to hear it," Mr Graves chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Like I said back at the door, you're welcome to come to as many as you want – so long as you keep paying, that is." He considered the young man in front of him for a moment, his mind clearly working and putting the pieces together. "Must say, I'm surprised an upper-class gentleman such as yourself came to our show – usually that's the kind of people who look down on us."
"How did you-"
"I used to be like you," Graves continued. "Rich, an inheritance, a job in the family business… But thanks to two little girls, I ended up with nothing but love, friendship, and a work I adore – and I don't regret a thing."
Newt smiled, somewhat sadly. "That sounds wonderful, I must say. Certainly better than how suffocating it all is – how stiff everyone can be." He sighed, looking down at his empty glass. "I do enjoy my work, you know, researching animals – I love them more than anything – but life can certainly be difficult in other areas."
Percival Graves considered the younger man for a few seconds, and suddenly there was a knowing glint in his eyes. "You know, good sir, you would be wonderful in show business."
"Me? In… No," Newt stammered, surprised by this revelation. "I'm afraid I don't sing or dance nearly as well as any of your acts can, Mr Graves – I'd be a rather terrible addition to your circus."
"I didn't mean as an act," The other man said knowingly; the fingers of the hand not holding his drink were tapping rhythmically on the wood of the bar, his mind working a mile a minute. "Tell me, what's your name?"
"Newt Scamander."
"Well, Mr Scamander," Graves began grandly, rather like he was a businessman about to give a pitch of some kind. "I think you would make a rather fantastic apprentice."
Thanks so much for the support, guys! :D I hope you're all enjoying so far! I was stuck on this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it :)
I'm going to Disneyland Paris from Sunday to Thursday, so I'm afraid I won't be able to update until Thursday at the very earliest – but I'll certainly be doing some writing on the journey there and back! :D
Feedback/Reviews are what keeps me going!