Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
I found Rick, a burly man with a gentle smile, orchestrating the setup of the main tent. He handed me a stack of brightly colored seat cushions to distribute around the spectator benches.
"New, huh?" he asked as we worked.
"Just started today," I replied, keeping my tone light.
"Stick with it. Circus life's hard but good," he said, a note of pride in his voice. His acceptance was a small victory, the first of many I hoped to achieve.
As I arranged the cushions, my mind whirled not just with the immediate tasks but with the deeper mission. Somewhere amidst this chaos of joy and performance, dark secrets lurked. And somewhere here, too, was Dante Marcellus—the man whose dark allure promised to be as dangerous as it was compelling.
After finishing with the cushions, I found myself the costume shop amid a whirlwind of fabric and color, a stark contrast to the disciplined chaos outside. I pushed through the draped beads at the entrance, inhaling the scent of fresh linen and dust. Ellie, the head costume designer, a wiry woman with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, waved me over from behind a mountain of sequined costumes.
"Ah, the new girl!" Ellie exclaimed as she looked me up and down with a discerning eye. "Let's get you fitted. Can't have you looking like a ragamuffin among the glitz."
She pulled me behind a makeshift dressing screen, where she handed me a vibrant, multi-colored jacket and a pair of snug black pants. As I changed, Ellie continued to chatter, her voice a melodic hum filled with the latest circus gossip.
"You know, Lila, the trapeze artist, is something of a mystery here," Ellie said, pinning the jacket tighter around my waist. "Keeps to herself mostly, but when she performs... oh, it's like watching poetry in motion."
Intrigued, I nodded, tugging at the jacket that now clung perfectly to my form. "Sounds like she's quite the performer."
Ellie chuckled, securing a final pin with a flourish. "That she is, but watch out. They say her last assistant got a bit too close—burned by her intensity, or so the rumors go."
Armed with Ellie's cryptic warnings, I thanked her and headed straight for the trapeze nets, where I was told I could find Lila practicing. The area was quieter, set apart from the main hustle of the circus grounds. I leaned against a post, my gaze lifting to the figure soaring above.
Lila was mesmerizing. Her body moved with a fluid grace, each swing and leap defying gravity. She was all lithe strength and controlled power, her presence filling the space around the nets. As she executed a particularly complex maneuver, our eyes locked. Her gaze was piercing, almost challenging, and her lips curled into a mysterious smile as she continued her dance in the air. The moment was fleeting, but it left a lasting impression, stirring a mixture of admiration and intrigue within me.
From there, I made my way to the security office, where I was scheduled to meet Jasper, the head of security. The office was stark, a small, windowless space dominated by screens showing live feeds from around the circus. Jasper sat behind a desk cluttered with walkie-talkies and papers, his expression serious.
"Miss Parker," he greeted, his voice gruff. "Ellie said you'd be coming by. Part of the crew now, are you?"
"Yes, just started today. I'm looking forward to understanding more about how things work here," I replied, trying to sound casual while observing the banks of monitors, each flickering with different parts of the circus.
Jasper studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly before he nodded. "Well, safety's the game here. Watch, learn, and stay out of trouble. Circus life can be... unpredictable."
His warning, though veiled, prickled at the back of my mind. There was a depth to his gaze that suggested he knew more than he let on, and I filed away his words as something to ponder later. As dusk began to settle, I joined the crew at the main tent. I grabbed a length of rope, pulling and securing the heavy canvas under the watchful eyes of the crew leader. The physical work was grounding, but my mind was alert, constantly scanning for anything out of the ordinary.
Every snapped command, every hurried exchange—I absorbed it all, piecing together the hidden dynamics of the circus. Under the shadow of the big top, amidst the laughter and shouts, I felt a thrill of anticipation. This was more than just a job; it was a descent into a world where every smile held a story, and every shadow could be hiding a secret. As I adjusted another prop, I realized that the circus was not just a spectacle to be observed—it was a puzzle to be solved. And I was just beginning to find the edges.
Under the dim lights of the main tent, the murmurs of the eager crowd mingled with the rustle of the canvas above. I tucked myself into the shadows beneath the bleachers, my eyes scanning the vibrant chaos of the circus ring. My attention, however, was riveted on one man alone—Dante, the ringmaster.