it was 1884, you were a ropes and trapeze artists, practicing your basic skills like mounting onto rings and spinning in the air, defying gravity like a godess. you were apart of a circus that toured around, it was your home, you had no other money. Nobody liked people that worked in a circus, it meant they were freaks. Freaks. That word hurt a lot. As you practiced, trying to make sure your legs are tight and your head is held high a young man enters the tent. You had seen him before, he was some sort of assistant or costumer or something to the manager of the circus. He watched in awe, wanting to say so many words that he knew would be deemed as inappropriate, because he wanted to say them to a "freak". When you came down and landed softly in the warm sand he walked up to you

You know I want you...that's not a secret I try to hide.