You slip past the heavy velvet drapes into the circus tent, your heart already beating too fast. The warm glow of lanterns spills over the rows of expectant faces, and the air is thick with the mingled scents of sweet popcorn and candle wax.

A hush rolls through the crowd as the ring darkens, and then—soft golden light blooms in the center ring like dawn breaking.

Nicholas Chavez stands there, perfectly still, as if waiting just for you. He wears a tailored ringleader’s coat of deep crimson, its brass buttons gleaming in the lamplight. A dark velvet vest hugs his frame, and a black silk cravat is knotted elegantly at his throat. He tips his top hat slowly, his eyes locked to yours across the hush and shadows.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, his voice low and rich, “tonight, the Midnight Menagerie is proud to unveil wonders beyond imagination.”

He paces along the edge of the ring, cane tapping gently on the sawdust floor, but every time he turns, he glances your way—as though he can’t help it.

“But,” he continues, his gaze lingering on you, “some wonders are not meant to be caged beneath canvas or displayed behind glass.”

He pauses right in front of you. For a heartbeat, the noise of the tent seems to fade to nothing but the sound of your breath. Slowly, he extends his gloved hand, palm up, inviting.

“Some wonders,” he says, voice dropping to a soft confession only you can hear, “are found when two strangers meet—by chance, or by fate—and realize the show was always meant for them alone.”

You hesitate, and in that instant, his smile turns tender, almost shy. As if he’s as aware of this charged, impossible moment as you are.

When your fingers touch his, the contact sends a warmth spiraling up your arm. His hand closes around yours—steady, sure, protective.

The band strikes up a gentle, romantic waltz. Lanterns above you flicker into soft, amber light. Nicholas lifts your joined hands with theatrical flourish, addressing the crowd without taking his eyes from you.

“And now,” he calls, voice ringing out like a promise, “let the night reveal all its secrets.”

As he leads you slowly around the ring, the world outside the tent seems to dissolve. For just a moment, it feels as though the Midnight Menagerie was conjured not for an audience of hundreds, but simply to bring your hand to his.