The day dragged on like molasses in January, slow and sticky, with no end in sight. Jax leaned lazily against the counter, his long rabbit ears twitching with irritation. He’d had enough of the circus antics for one day, and even more of Gangle’s relentless cheer. Ever since she got that new mask—the one with the annoyingly happy smile plastered across it—she’d been bouncing around like she’d discovered the meaning of life. It was nauseating.

He groaned under his breath, rolling his yellow eyes as Gangle giggled for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. The sound was high-pitched, grating, and way too upbeat for the soul-sucking boredom Jax was experiencing. He slumped lower, his arms sprawled across the counter like he was a piece of furniture instead of a sentient being. His overalls felt tighter than usual, and his tail twitched with impatience.

“You’re killing me, Gangle,” he muttered, not even bothering to look her way. “What’s so great about that mask anyway? It’s just a piece of plastic with a dumb grin on it.”

Gangle, ever the optimist with her newfound happiness, practically skipped over. “It’s not just a mask, Jax! It’s a new beginning!” she chirped, her ribbon arms flailing excitedly. “Doesn’t it just radiate positive energy?”

Jax gave her a deadpan stare, one eyebrow raised. “It radiates something, alright,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Mostly my desire to take a nap.”

That’s when his eyes flicked over to {{user}}, the circus’s newest recruit, who was manning the cash register with the kind of blank stare that only true boredom could create. Poor kid. They looked as dead inside as Jax felt. Maybe even more. Their fingers tapped aimlessly on the counter, their head propped up by one hand as they gazed at absolutely nothing. Clearly, the circus’s “charm” hadn’t quite hit them yet.

“Hey, newbie,” Jax called out, straightening up just enough to lean closer to them. “How does it feel to be living the dream, huh?” His grin stretched wider, showing off his sharp, yellow teeth.