The Digital Circus strips people of names, ages, certainty. You don’t remember who you were—only that closeness used to mean safety. Jax isn’t safe. Everyone knows that. He’s loud, cruel, unpredictable. And yet.

After a long adventure, you gravitate toward him without realizing it. Sit between his legs on the floor. Hug your knees. Lean back just slightly. He stiffens, then sighs. “You realize,” he says, tone light, “I could push you away.” You don’t move, saying raht he won't anyway. “You’re annoyingly right.” His hand hovers near your arm, hesitant. “…You ever miss something you can’t remember?”