Chapter Text
You are the Clown. That is not your actual name, obviously, but it is your role within the circus you have come to call home, and so, for now at least, you are the Clown.
You are a monster, literally, and you work in the Freak Circus of Horrors alongside five other monsters. One of them, the Pierrot, serves as your companion on this rather fine morning as the both of you are given the luxurious task of handing out flyers for advertisement.
In all honesty, you would rather be anywhere else than out on the street, surrounded by countless numbers of humans; you’d rather not have a repeat of that one time a couple of drunk teenagers decided your head would make a great target for their beer bottles. But when you heard that Pierrot was going to hand out flyers on his own, you immediately volunteered to help him, knowing that he would likely be forced to silently take whatever the humans threw at him. You were rather close with the silent clown and it genuinely broke your heart (or whatever you had left of it) whenever he would return battered and bruised, so you would voluntarily help him out when it was his turn on flier duty - if you didn’t have your own tasks to deal with, that is.
“Come visit the circus! It will be an experience you’ll never forget!”
You shout at the passing humans, putting on your best friendly face as you coax them into taking a flyer. It’s successful for the most part: half your stack is gone while poor Pierrot still has his arms full and people avoiding him like he has the plague. You suppose that a pretty woman wearing a cheery mask is far more approachable than an intimidatingly tall man who doesn’t speak. Still, there are the occasional weary glances your way, although many lack the malice of the stares Pierrot receives.
“Want me to help with those?”
You discreetly ask your companion while smiling at a woman and handing her a flier.
“...”
As expected, Pierrot doesn't answer you with words (he’s not allowed to talk in front of the humans, after all) but with a subtle shake of his head and a small smile your way.
It was his way of saying, “thank you for the offer, but I can handle this.”
Before you can return his smile, the shrill voice of a teenage girl grates your ears.
“Oh my God, it’s one of those freaks!”
Willing yourself not to immediately bare your fangs in frustration, you slowly turn towards the direction of that annoying voice. Sure enough, you spot three girls pointing and giggling towards you while gossiping amongst themselves.
“My cousin saw them when they were visiting his hometown a couple months ago! I didn’t really believe him when he said they were creepy creepy, but like, I toootally get it now. Look at that face!”
“Ooooh, you should take a picture! Show it to your sister.”
“Yeah, didn’t you say she was into this creepy clown stuff?”
The first girl gasps as if her friend just had a stroke of genius.
“You’re right! Here, let me…”
And just like that, you’re on them in a flash, hand blocking the lens of girl number one’s phone as she tries to capture your visage for her camera role.
“I’m sorry miss, but no photos are allowed of our performers.”
“What the-!”
“Jesus!”
“Aaah!”
The girls let out a scream as you suddenly invade their private bubble, looking at you like you just popped out of a nightmare.
“It’s rather disrespectful to take someone’s picture without asking them, miss, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t do it again.”
“Whatever.”
The teen scoffs condescendingly. Clearly having her fun ruined, she and her friends grumble as they walk down the street - you make sure to follow them with your eyes so they don’t try to snap your photo as they go.
‘Well, that was probably one of the most tame encounters ever; I was expecting way more shouting. Now, back to-’
“Hey! Get out of here weirdo!”
‘Oh no.’
You turn around just in time to see Pierrot stumble to the ground after getting hit in the face by some human. A crowd had gathered around the spectacle, yet none dared to intervene and save your friend from the wrath of their own kind. The sight does little to quell your budding rage; in fact, the other humans’ cowardice only serves to provoke you further.
Enraged, you prepare to tear the arrogant human apart (not literally…yet), until your eyes befall on a far worse sight.
Another human. Standing up for Pierrot. Showing him a taste of kindness.
A chill shoots through you at the all too familiar scene: the way the human’s hands gently touch Pierrot’s face like his had yours, the way the human’s voice softens in concern like his had, the way your silent companion looks at them like they had saved him from drowning in a desert like you once looked at him, before…
No.
No, not happening. Not to dear Pierrot. Not to anyone else.
History was not going to repeat itself, so long as you still drew breath on this wretched world.
Taking a deep breath to still yourself, forcing the painful memories of a past ridden with betrayal and heartache down, you smiled your false smile as you approached the scene with determination in your stride.
“That was quite the scare! Are you alright?”
“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m fine! Thanks for asking.”
The human replies, foolishly thinking that you were referring to them.
“With all due respects, dear stranger, I wasn’t talking to you.”
‘I know your game, human.’
Your smile grew tight as you looked the human in the eyes.
‘I’ve played this game before, I’ve seen how your kind like to play pretend, and I will not allow you to fiddle with his heart.’
“Oh, uh, sorry, I… that makes sense, actually, I’m not the one who got punched in the face, ha ha….”
The human looks abashed as their incorrect assumption was pointed out, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.
‘Typical human arrogance, always thinking everything is about them.’
“Well, I gotta go or I’ll be late. Take care, okay?”
The ‘kind’ human waves at the both of you as they rush off to where you assume their place of work is. But not before pulling one more move to ensure that Pierrot would fall for them hook line and sinker.
They stuck a little pink bandage on his wound.
And with that little gesture, Pierrot officially has hearts in his eyes (you have no idea how or why his pupils can make that shape).
‘And there goes his heart. …Wonderful.’
“Pierrot, we should probably get you checked out… Pierrot? Pierrot!?”
But the lovestruck fool seems to be far too enamoured by his ‘savior’ to hear you. Abandoning his post by your side, your lovable friend casually stalks the human that had left just minutes ago, leaving you alone to continue on with your shared duties.
After weighing your options, you decide to