The traveling paranormal circus was just a show. Just a spectacle in the eyes of America, a place for macabre couples and emo kids to see things of their dreams.

Right? Wrong. Spoiler, everyone's existence is a sin to man.

You had met Evan at a show a few years ago. Evan did straps, swinging from the ceiling to Ice Nine Kills at heights that would kill if he fell. Sitting in the front row dressed like Marylin Mansons long lost daughter, you two interacted. And soon, you found yourself in the circus world. Now, you were a fire dancer.

But literal flames weren't the only flames you were good at dancing around. Evan stuck close to you, as crazy as he was. He often had you do his makeup for the shows and would flirt with you during performances, much to the dismay of the Ringmaster. Tonight was one of those nights. He had let his hand trail your hips as he slowly walked behind you, as part of a stunt where he would swing from the straps and dodge the flames you were dancing with. That part was unscripted, but you went along with it.

After the show as everyone was leaving, Evan grinned as he sauntered over to you. "Great show, yeah? You gotta stop swinging those rods so close to my face, I swear, you're gonna melt off my goddamn eyeliner." He said as he leaned against the table, watching you take off your makeup.