Chapter Text
I blinked.
Then I blinked again.
There was a bright light, a pounding in my head, there were sounds coming from all around me. I tried to focus on what was around me, trying to knock myself out of my haze; rustling fabric, people passing by, a car honking its horn, a voice...
A voice?
It was a voice, a male voice that seemed distant. I tried opening my eyes again, but to no avail.
Huffing, I concentrated on squeezing my eyes together, the blinding light never seemed to settle. I took one breath.
Then another.
The pounding lessened slightly, and I registered that a hand had settled on my shoulder.
"MC," a baritone voice began, "MC, are you okay?"
A shadow fell upon me, and I took this moment to squint up at the looming figure above who was saving me from the brightness of the sun - I assumed.
It was a man with long brown locks of hair tied in a man bun, with complex tattoos decorating his forearms and a soft gleam in his dark brown eyes. He sounded concerned, but I didn't really understand. I felt like I knew him, that I had some sort of relationship with him. That he was someone important, in a way.
Thoughts rushed in my mind as I settled just a little bit more. Who was he? Am I MC? Did he confuse me for someone else?
"MC," he said again, this time sternly, catching my attention, "answer me, are you alright?"
I was stunned for a moment, unable to answer. Instead, I nodded dumbly, my mouth feeling dry. I tried to distract myself, not really thinking as I peeked behind him to see where the sun was. I needed to know what time it was, but it did nothing as I recoiled from the bright light again.
Sighing and not commenting on my silence, nor the stupid thing I had just inflicted on myself, the man grabbed my shoulders and got me to my feet. Carefully, he wrapped my arm around his shoulders as he dragged me from...wherever I was at.
I was blinking rapidly, the brightness becoming a bit more bearable as my pupils adjusted themselves, and when I could see a bit better without wanting to scream from the brightness, I took a look around me.
Apparently I had been in the middle of the street. The car honking was some angry pedestrian who probably didn't think twice about what I was doing in the middle of the road - probably thought I was high, I mused, the irony of knowing what drugs were and not who I am not lost on me. The people stayed in the sidewalks, seemingly torn between helping me and minding their own business, but that seemed to last only a few more seconds as I got to the sidewalk. Then they all went their separate ways.
I sighed, letting go of the man who was helping me and sitting on the curb. I distantly took note of a soreness in my body, but it didn't feel life threatening.
The man looked down at me, a flash of concern and worry on his face, "MC, are you sure you're fine? You literally just got hit by a car and did a 360 in the air. Do you need to go to the hospital?"
I shook my head, for some reason tense about going to the hospital. I can't go to the hospital, it will ruin everything. "No," I said a little too quickly, "I'm good. I-uh, my head hurts a bit."
It would ruin everything?
He narrowed his eyes scanning me for...something. Eventually he just rubbed his brow to ease whatever tension was there before turning to me. "Listen, I know what I said about being short on hands, especially after Carol seemed to dissappear, but I can close today," he seemed to try to assure me, even though I have no clue who this "Carol" was, or the knowledge that I was at work - what was I, a traffic cone? "Just go home and rest, you have my phone number, so if you need anything, call me."
I blankly stared at him. Home?
He noticed the strange look on my face, perhaps taking it as uneasiness about being left alone, and he sighed. "You live right down the street, right? I'll temporarily close the café for the time being and get you home, okay?" He turned around and beelined for the little café shop that was right behind us, not waiting for me to answer.
Is that where I worked? Probably. Yes.
I sat there awkwardly, mulling over what he said. I was...hit by a car?
I checked my head for wounds, but no blood was leaking from any unseen cuts on my head. I brushed my hands around my body. Nothing, no warm feel of blood anywhere else on my body, whether it be in my clothes or on my skin.
Strange.
I tried to reason with myself. It wasn't unheard of, for someone to get hit by a car and walked away unscathed, but...
I had a bad feeling about it.
Trying to distract myself, I peered curiously through the window from where I sat, watching as the mysterious man, perhaps a friend of sorts, shut the cash register. I felt a twinge of guilt as I watched him apologize to the guests already situated in their chairs about the sudden closing of the shop. In the end, though, it seemed they didn't mind - they probably saw what happened outside.
I felt restless, wishing selfishly for him to hurry up. I needed to do something, anything, to get away from this situation, this new feeling, this new place, I hated it.
Was it even new? This is my life, my work, my...friend, so why am I scared?
I felt angry at myself - what kind of person feels like this about their own life? But, even then...
I twitched slightly, my aching muscles finally making themselves known as the adrenaline left my body.
I felt bad. I didn't know why, but I felt like I was doing something wrong. Being something wrong.
Then I began thinking, resuming my thoughts from before - maybe I really am hurt and I need to go to the hospital. This isnt normal - who forgets their name? Where they live? Who they are?
What they -.
I fiddled with my fingers nervously. I didnt know what was going on, and I know I needed help, but something told me not to move, even though I wanted to get up and run. It begged me to stay, to "play my part", whatever that might mean. These conflicting feelings frustrated me to no end.
There were footsteps behind me. I ignored them for a little bit, thinking they were just another person walking along the sidewalk, until they stopped behind me. I felt eyes burning through the back of my neck, which caused me to look up instinctively.
It was a different man this time, dressed in a ridiculous costume - though almost charming, in a sense. In all honesty, he almost looked like a jester, but with different accessories that werent typically for jesters- something told me he wasn't a jester, but I ignored the thought.
He was tall, though. Taller then the man who dragged me out of the street - a coworker I guessed, from how he talked to me - and lanky. His mask, however, was what caught me off guard. When I looked closer, the mouth of the mask had unnaturally sharp teeth, glinting as he offered me a smile - why was the mask conforming to his mouth - and his eyes...
His eyes seemed to glow gold. A gold so intense that I knew it wasn't from some illusion or fake lights put in the eye holes, it was his eyes.
I scanned him up and down, trying to comb through my memory for anything helpful. Did I know him? Is he coming to talk to me? I noticed the flyers in his hands, perhaps he's gonna advertise me something.
I guess I was focusing too hard because the clown - whatever he was - started blushing, fiddling with the flyers in his hands as his smile started to falter and his eyes looked shyly off to the side. It was skittish, almost. Like a dog caught in the act.
"Hi," I said, my voice rough from the strain of whatever the hell happened earlier.
The man seemed to wince at the sound of it, the papers in his hand being clutched tighter as he seemed to think about something. There was a few tense moments where I wanted to shy away from the strange man, but he seemed to sense my discomfort and relaxed slightly. Shaking his head as if to free it from lingering thoughts, he set the flyers down at a café table and walked over to me, bending down to get closer to my level.
His eyes seemed to brighten slightly as he looked at me, offering his hand as if he was quietly offering to help me up.
Quietly, I looked back at him and nodded, taking his hand and standing up unsteadily. Luckily, the jester-clown-guy was there to help support me, catching me before I collapsed on the ground as my legs gave out under me.
I steadied my breath. Turning to face him again. Wow, really tall. And bright eyes.
"Oh, ah, thanks," I said, offering him a smile.
His grip tightened on me for a moment, and I watched as his gaze lingered on how he held me up for a moment before looking back at my face. Carefully he let one of his hands off my body and pointed at a pink bandaid on his face, his gaze becoming softer.
I didn't know how to respond. How did I not notice the bright pink bandaid on his face?
There was a slight panic in my chest as his face started to falter again. "Nice bandaid," I said dumbly, feeling bad as his face fell further.
"MC, are you ready to -," you heard that familiar deep voice coming from the direction of the café entrance.
The jester jumped and turned to face the man coming out. I swore I saw his face sour a bit before looking back at me and offering another gentle smile.
Were his eyes shaped like hearts, or were my eyes playing tricks on me?
"Oh."
I patted the jester on the shoulder, "Hey, uh, thanks for getting me up on my feet, but me and my, um, coworker need to go somewhere." I tried to be vague.
He nodded, letting me go, but still somewhat hovering as I walked over to my - friend.
My coworker looked the clown up and down thoughtfully, as if weighing something in his head, before offering him his hand, "Thank you for helping 'em up, I was a bit busy and couldn't keep an eye on them for a second - ain't so bad for a circus freak." He seemed to mean that as a playful jab, but the jester didn't take it that way - or perhaps he was just being petty - and simply nodded, ignoring his hand.
After a few more moments of hovering just out of reach, he receded, picking up his fliers before turning to wave at the two of us. Or just me.
I had to suppress a laugh as my friend looked down, flabbergasted that he was left hanging. "Alright, if you're well enough to laugh, your well enough to walk home," he grumpily said.
That would be bad. "Ah-! Never mind, I think im feeling a bit queasy..."
~~~
We walked down a street a few blocks down where the café was, and I was greeted with a small, three story apartment.
"You got your keys, right? Didn't lose them when you got hit?" My coworker asked lightly, turning to face me.
I felt my pockets and nodded my head, "Oh, yes, I do, actually, and surprisingly, I also have my phone."
He chuckled, "Right, I forgot about that too. Should've asked when we were still back over at the café."
I raised my eyebrow, "Hadn't you already assumed I had it with me earlier?"
"Yeah, my bad."
"All good, no harm no foul."
"Still, I'm your boss, I should have thought that through."
Oh.
I opened my door and went inside, after a small moment of awkward silence, waving goodbye to my co-work - I mean, my boss.
He walked away, unfazed, promising to call later to check up on me.
I sighed and turned to face the apartment. It was cozy, just big enough for one person but also big enough for a couple of friends to come over - did I have any friends?
I cursed myself and my stupid brain as I walked into the small kitchen and opened the fridge, grimacing at the food. It was all vegetarian.
No hate to vegetarians, but I was pretty sure I also ate meat. Which is weird - maybe I have a kind of memory loss that affects what I remember about my particular life, the people in it, and even - apparently - my own habits?
I started humming, content as I pulled out my phone to order Uber Eats. Yes, I may not know my name, but I will be damned if I forgot how to use that delivery service.
I started emptying my pockets - I took out my keys, wallet, and a pink ticket.
Curious, I picked up the ticket and looked closely at it. "The Freak Circus," I mumbled, reading the name on it. Maybe I had some plans to go there after work today - I guess the name did seem familiar to me...
A couple of hours go by and the throbbing in my head was basically gone. I had eaten some food from an obscure place near me, and I was full and content. Lazily, I was scolling through my phone. I tried to look for any clues about me - social media accounts I might have had, web hustory, etc. - but there was nothing. Eventually i came to the conclusion that I basically had no life, social or otherwise. Suddenly, an idea came to mind. I started scrolling through my contacts. No mom, no dad, okay. Maybe I had cut them out of my life. I continued scrolling and found that I maybe had a group of friends that I was close with, but it seemed that the last time we spoke was three months ago. Then there was "Boss".
"Boss," I hummed to myself, thinking back to the man from the café. I checked out the text messages from me to him, and I supposed that it was the man that brought me back home. Might as well use that to refer to him from now on, since I didn't want to seem suspicious.
Why would I not want to seem suspicious? Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I looked up "The Freak Circus" on my phone. Nothing came up, not even and pictures or reddit rants anywhere about it. Strange.
I rubbed my eyes, realizing how late it was. Grumbling to myself, I reluctantly got up from the chair I was in and walked to the bedroom, jumping on the bed. Getting under the covers, I giggled around, trying to get comfortable. There was a nagging feeling in my head, like I was supposed to be doing something, but I ignored it, instead putting on classical music to fall asleep to. Before long I had fallen asleep, somewhat restless, even with the help of the music, and began to dream.
______________________________
In the darker hours of the night, something crawled in though the patio door. A quiet beast with glowing eyes who rumbled quietly in content at the sleeping figure on the bed.
It took out a red paper flower, putting it on your bedside with your belongings. It - he - had been worried when he saw you curled up on the curb, watching that...man in the café. He was greedy, he knew that, which is why he walked up to you and forced your attention on him.
Even now, his hands tingled with the residual feeling of your body.
One of his hands reached up and stroked the bright pink bandaid on his face, sighing. He looked down on your sleeping face, smiling gently as he heard piano music coming from your phone.
That night he whispered sweet nothings in your ears, praying that you'd wake up and see him, embrace him, love him.
As he begrudgingly began to turn to leave, he saw the pink ticket that you had put on your bed stand before going to bed, and froze. Stealthily he took the ticket and replaced it with a red one, golden eyes gleaming with happiness...
And perhaps a little hunger.
He hoped you'd go see him soon.