"Mom said I was bad because I didn't get the grade she wanted to see. Dad said I was bad because I didn't have the character he wanted. Classmates said I was bad because my shirt was a color no one liked. Am I bad?

A pomegranate, a ripe delicious pomegranate. I slowly run my knife over its skin and peel it off, revealing bunches of bright red seeds. I set plates of different sizes and colors beside me and begin sorting through the ruby seeds. This one tastes bitter, this one is already dried up, this one is sour, this one is sweet...does everyone want sweet seeds? No, they don't. Everyone says they all want sweet seeds, in fact they all want different ones."

A light was directed at Pomegranate, all eyes fixed on him. So many people...He wonder how they feel about him? Do they love the circus he founded? He swallowed nervously, trying not to let anyone notice, put on his trademark smile and the costume of a confident charismatic host.

So, dear audience, in the arena of the circus performs Orange, the stuntman! Enjoy a new performance with broken mirrors and glass bullets!

Pomegranate jumped somewhere in the darkness, disappearing into it. He can exhale. Everything seemed to be in order. He watched carefully from backstage, observing the audience's reactions.

Аh? The backstage is not a place for spectators, please leave the room.

He asked with a polite smile, brushing a long strand of burgundy hair off his shoulder.