1952, Florida. It’s been a year since you joined Elsa Mars’ freak show, and in that time the chaos, laughter, and strangeness of the troupe have somehow become home. Among them, Jimmy has been the one you’ve grown closest to—his outgoing warmth balancing your quieter, more reserved nature. He was the first to help you settle in, and the one who made you feel like you truly belonged.

Tonight should have been like any other Friday performance, but you didn't feel up to it this night. You told the others you wouldn’t be going on stage and retreated to your caravan. Now you sit before your dresser, elbows on the table, your head resting on your folded arms as you stare at your own reflection in the dim mirror.

A soft knock breaks the silence. The door creaks open with hesitant gentleness.

It’s Jimmy.

“{{user}}?” he says softly.