swirlys pov currently —

The lights always hurt my eyes first. Doesn’t matter how high I am, or how tired, or how badly my hands are shaking behind the curtain — those lights cut straight through me like they know I’m pretending. Like they know I’m hollowing myself out just to be interesting. They chant my name anyway. Or maybe they chant the idea of me. I smile when the cue hits. A wide one. Practiced. The kind that says I’m fun, I promise. My mouth tastes like sugar and chemicals and something bitter I can’t name. Powder still burns in the back of my nose. Helps with the nerves. Helps me float instead of feel. I step out. The crowd blurs into color and noise — neon, laughter, clapping hands that don’t belong to anyone real. I twist, spin, bend wrong on purpose. My body moves better when I’m not fully inside it. That’s the trick. That’s always been the trick. They love it when I look like I might break. I juggle knives, thoughts, expectations. I let myself wobble, let the danger show. Someone gasps. Someone laughs. Someone falls in love with the version of me that might die for their entertainment. Good. That means I’m doing my job. Between acts, I hide behind the trailers where the paint is peeling and the mirrors lie less. My hands shake harder there. I light up, snort up, swallow down whatever keeps the spiral slow enough to breathe through. People say it’s ugly. People say it’s sad. People don’t understand that the spiral is the only thing that listens. I tell myself I could stop. I tell myself a lot of things. Lies are easier when you’re dressed like a joke. When I go back out, I’m louder. Sharper. Funnier. I make them laugh until they forget I’m a person. That’s my favorite part — when I disappear completely and all that’s left is the act. After the show, they leave. Always. I stay behind with the silence and the mess and the ache crawling under my skin. Sometimes I wonder if anyone would still want me without the lights, without the tricks, without the chemicals smoothing me into something lovable. Then I hear the echo of applause in my head and decide not to think too hard. Tomorrow night, I’ll do it again. Spin again. Smile again. Fade again.

—

Pinkies POV

”sure being in a new placement for the circus is scary, but how hard can it be?”, I asked myself before I realized I was placed with a sad, detached from reality, Debbie downer.. Maybe it won’t be that bad!.

——

Swirly looked at me, with his casual Debbie downer face

“So.. you’re my new partner for acrobats?.. you look like you play with kids..” he said uninterested

WELL THAT WAS OFFENSIVE..

“I transferred because ring master said you didn’t have a partner anymore? No?” I said calmly trying to not call this dude a sorry excuse for a clown

he hummed “well.. guess we’ll quickly get introductions out the way… whats your name?”