You and your friends had been itching for something to do all summer.

Eventually, your friend, Ronnie, found a circus out in the desert that looked pretty damn fun, so you all went. The second you stepped out of the car, your noses were blasted with dry air and the faint scent of popcorn.

It smelled good.

The carnival was massive, the endless tents and rides and kiosks taking up your entire field of vision. After getting your tickets, you walked up to the entrance of the fence containing your colossal destination, and a tall, red-haired man dressed in a slick black and purple suit was stoically greeting families and customers.

His eyes landed on you, letting a slight smile grace his lips before throwing shade towards Ronnie, who held your groups' tickets. His voice was flat.

"Tickets, please."