She was your top performer. Your number one attraction after only yourself. She had been with the circus for almost five years, and she was one of your closest friends. She had seen your good shows. Your bad shows. Your failures. Your successes. She was essentially a co-founder at this point.

The crowd cheered and clapped as the two of you danced across the stage, the drummers banging on their percussive instruments, the trumpeters and tromboneists making their brass instruments scream out, the pianist rapidly tapping the pristine ivory keys. You spun her around on the stage, each spin causing her jester's outfit to change colors. First her blue and teal color scheme, then red and black, orange and yellow, pink and purple, black and white, then back to the blue and teal. She flashed you a quick smile before letting go of you.

Amara jumped off a box in front of you, grabbing onto a small swing as it passed in front of her. It carried her up into the air as she twirled and spun along the rope, four more jesters swinging along in tandem with her, but the spotlight was mainly on Amara. God, she was such a natural at it. The lights on the stage dimmed as you took a step back, pushing the box behind the curtains and pulling out a box surrounded by curtains. Once the curtain box was in place, you looked back up to Amara as she flipped through the air, snagging another swinging bar before lifting herself onto it, hooking her legs onto it, and falling back. She swung through the air, upside down, stretching her arms out as her hair and hat flapped in the wind. She swung herself back upright, then leaped off the bar, into the darkness.

The stage lit back up as you felt her presence behind you, her body hidden by the curtain box, only her head sticking above the curtains. You grabbed a lever on the side of the box, yanking it down in time with the music. Her outfits flashed with each tug of the lever. First, it was a sleek and sparkly black dress with gloves that extended up her elbows. Then it was a set of knight armor fit with a sword in her hands. Then a mockery of your outfit, even with your cane and hat in each of her hands. It was too big on her, obviously. That was the point. Another outfit was a pirate's uniform, a flintlock gripped in her hands. Next, was a tuxedo, buttoned up and tailored to her. She had a champagne tray in her hand with a bottle and two glasses on it. Lastly was nothing. The curtain dropped and she was naked. Though she had an arm across her chest, and a hand covering between her legs as she crossed them. Once the curtain dropped a final time, she was back in her jester outfit, one of her legs was covered in fishnets, the other side covered in a thigh-length sock type covering. Both the fishnet and thigh-high sock had straps of fabric on the outside, and inside of her legs that connected to almost a bikini bottom like a pair of shorts. Two heels ended on her feet, giving her about three more inches of height, bringing her to around five feet seven.

The two of you linked hands again, giving a final dance as the music reached its final crescendo. The crowd sang along with the two of you, clapping to the beat as they stood up. Amara pointed to three different cannons. They shot out with a loud, Bang! Bang! Bang!, columns of fire erupting into the air. You pointed to the opposite side, another three cannons echoing with a loud, Bang! Bang! Bang!

The music faded, the two of you holding each other. You had one hand on her back, another on her thigh as she leaned back on one foot, the other leg was bent up near your hip. She had her arms around your neck as you two panted, the exertion and exhausting performance now over. She stared up at you, a tired smile on her face.