Chapter Text
The first time Caine saw you, it was by accident.
When C&A took a chance on the vivacious ringmaster, allowing his troupe to go on a national tour for the first time in the company’s history, they hadn’t expected the level of success that followed. From opening night to closing, The Amazing Digital Circus was a viral sensation, completely selling out its debut run.
C&A was quick to capitalize on it. They wanted to keep the momentum, and more importantly, the profit that came with it. So, they did what they did best. They made an offer that was difficult to refuse: a full-fledged promotion with formal training.
That was what brought Caine to the company’s extravagant permanent venue, standing beneath chandeliers that glittered too brightly and velvet drapery that cost his entire year’s salary. Abel’s domain.
The two stood side by side at the front of the mezzanine. Abel was speaking, of course. He always was. He had been monologuing for some time now, his voice honey-smooth as he guided Caine through the venue. With how much he talked, you would think he didn’t like to leave any space for silence at all, moving from one explanation to the next without pause.
“You will find that every element is carefully chosen and crafted,” Abel stated, gesturing toward the stage below without really looking at it. “Everything is deliberate.” Caine hummed in response, though he wasn’t entirely sure Abel cared whether he was listening or not. The two had not gotten along well in the past, and Caine doubted that this promotion would change that.
“Consistency,” Abel elaborated, “is what sustains a venue of this grandeur. Spectacle alone is unreliable.” It sounded less like a conversation, and more like a conclusion Caine had already been expected to agree with.
Abel kept talking, but the ringmaster’s focus had already drifted. The man had never been known for his attention span, and pairing him with someone as magnificently boring as Abel was a poor decision at best.
The restlessness didn’t stay contained for long. It never did.
It made its first appearance in the way Caine began to subtly shift his posture, his weight balancing from one foot to the other. His gaze began to wander, never settling long enough to follow whatever Abel was trying to say. At some point, Abel’s voice had become background noise. And then, of course, there was Bubble.
Perched on the shoulder of the ringmaster's red tailcoat, the cockatoo let out a string of quiet, unintelligible chirps, his claws tapping impatiently against the fabric. Caine didn’t need to look at the bird to know what was coming.
“Don’t even think about it.” He murmured under his breath. He already knew it was too late. Once Bubble started his antics, there was no stopping him until he had had his fill. Abel continued to ramble, something about…structural integrity? Or scheduling? Maybe both. Caine couldn’t quite bring himself to care.
“Fascinating,” he muttered, not interested in the slightest.
It happened right after that. A flash of white at the edge of his vision, and suddenly his shoulder felt far too light…Bubble was off. Great.
Caine furrowed his brow and sighed, “…why are you like this?” After a half-hearted apology to Abel, Caine was already moving. Around a corner, through a hall, and down a narrow staircase, Caine pursued, beckoning for his bird to no avail.
Bubble squawked defiantly, flapping his wings before disappearing behind a stage curtain. Caine was already getting a headache. Of course he would do that.
Caine was frustrated, but not surprised. After all, this was far from the first time he had lost Bubble, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. He pushed past the heavy fabric without hesitation, stepping into backstage territory. He wasn’t supposed to have gone back there without Abel.
He kept going anyway.
The darkness submerged him, and the air became much cooler and quieter. Caine slowed, listening instead of watching. Somewhere in the distance, something squeaked. A mouse, probably.
Wonderful. He would have to report that to Abel later.
Caine rubbed at his temple, exhaling softly. He walked around some more, until eventually, he began to hear low trills. Hope flashed through his eyes, and the ringmaster began to search the nearby area to no success. He stopped and paused for a moment. It was as if the sound was coming from…above? Caine frowned, tilting his head as he looked up into the dim light.
That’s when he saw you.
High above him, suspended in an aerial hoop beneath a spotlight, you moved with precision. You were rehearsing the same move over and over again.
Again, again, and again, each repetition was executed flawlessly, exactly the same as before. Perfect. Caine’s eyes couldn’t help but soften as he watched from below. It was only after your eighth sequence that your eyes drifted upward, absently at first, until they landed on the small, white fluffy blob perched atop your hoop.
You gasped. Halting your practice, you shifted your body to sit cross-legged in the center of the hoop. Bubble chirped softly, clearly pleased with himself, before hopping down to rest against the back of your hand.
“Now, aren’t you the cutest little thing?” you cooed, your gloved fingers brushing gently over his pale feathers. The cockatoo let out a content purr.
“Where did you come from, little girl?” you asked, softly.
“Little guy, and a very naughty one at that!” a voice boomed from below.
Your entire body went rigid. You tilted your head downward, eyes widening as you caught sight of a figure far underneath you.
“Ah, my apologies, my candy heart!” Caine continued, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. “I didn’t mean to startle you, you see, I was simply chasing after my white-feathered troublemaker.” He took a step forward and tilted his head at you. Caine looked at you with unapologetic curiosity.
“You don’t suppose you could bring Bubble down for me, would you?”
“Oh, so it’s Bubble?” you replied, your voice lighter now, the tension in your body easing, just slightly, as you adjusted your grip on the hoop. You descended to Caine’s level with a practiced ease, extending your arm out toward him.
“Bubble!” the bird screeched, as if he was confirming it to you.
Caine’s smile brightened as he echoed back, “Yes, Bubble, that’s right!” The ringmaster gave an over-the-top introduction, grasping your hand with an enthusiasm that was borderline overwhelming, shaking it erratically. Bubble hopped back onto his shoulder, and Caine released you just as quickly, stepping back as though he had suddenly remembered himself.
“Might I ask you something, my razzling, dazzling paper flower?” The nickname was unexpected. You hesitated for half a second before nodding.
“Where is your spotter?” His tone was light, and almost casual.
You frowned. Truthfully, Abel had never given you a spotter to begin with, but that was definitely not something your boss allowed you to share.
“Uh, well..” you started, your voice trailing off as you searched for anything to fill the space. Quickly, you deflected, “So…how could such a cute bird be a troublemaker?”
It landed well. Caine let out a soft laugh, dropping his shoulders as he followed your shift without pressing further.
“Well,” he began, glancing sideways at Bubble, “our little baby buggy bumper here is a sweetheart, but let’s just say previous ownership from a certain…A-B-E-L…”
He drew the name out with exaggerated distaste.
“…has left him with quite the sailor’s mouth.”
The snub caught you off guard, and a laugh slipped out before you could stop it. You smiled without even realizing it. Just then, a voice rang out from behind you.
“There you are.” Your smile dropped. Abel stepped forward into the light, coming to a stop directly between the two of you. He didn’t raise his voice.
He didn’t need to.
“You are needed.” Abel stated, his voice controlled as his hand brushed against your wrist, guiding you off of the hoop and towards a stage door. He spoke to you in a lower tone, something ‘urgent,’ the words too quiet for Caine to catch.
Then his head turned backward, to Caine. The smile that followed didn’t reach his icy eyes.
“We don’t have time for distractions.”
Without allowing a proper goodbye to Caine, Abel sent you off. He watched you walk away, only turning his head to look Caine in the eyes after you were completely out of sight. The room felt smaller.
Bubble took the opportunity to break the tension.
“Aren’t they just ******* *********—”
Caine cut the parrot's language off quickly, his eyes widening as he shot the cockatoo a warning glance.
“…Bubble…you can’t say that!”
Abel’s brow lifted, amusement…or something else. His attention shifted past Caine, back toward the doorway you had disappeared through.
“They’re one of my finest investments.” Abel’s voice lowered. Subtly.
“I expect them to perform accordingly.”
As Abel led Caine back to the mezzanine, Caine replayed the sound of your laughter in his mind. Like sunshine.