The Greatest Showman: March One-Shots

1. Tax

P.T. jumps in surprise as Phillip slams a pile of papers down on his desk, right in front of his face.

"What was that for?" he asks incredulously, as he grabs the pile and begins to flip through it. Words of all different handwritings fill the pages, momentarily swarming his vision. It's when he reaches the fourth or fifth page that he finally realizes what all this is.

"What was that for?" Phillip repeats in a much different tone, one that speaks an underlying are you kidding me right now? His hands are on his hips, clearly distressed. "P.T., you told me you filed the taxes!"

"I said I would file the taxes," P.T. argues calmly, skimming through everything printed on all these pages. "I just didn't get around to it yet. It's on my to-do list."

"It's on your to-do— oh, my God." Phillip shakes his head in disbelief, turning around to walk right out of P.T.'s office. He decides he can't, though, and then turns back around to face his boss. "P.T., filing taxes isn't just optional. Do you know how much trouble I was in when I didn't file my taxes on time?"

"I'm aware," P.T. answers boredly, barely paying any attention to what his overcompensated apprentice is droning on about, as he starts to read another page. He laughs a little as something catches his attention. "You included Lettie's number as part of the donations section?"

Phillip looks at him for a moment. Blinks. "P.T., that was you."

The head ringmaster laughs again, gathering all of the pieces of paper together into a neat pile, taking a few extra seconds to make sure it's centered on his desk—clearly mocking the person standing right in front of him. He then pushes himself up out of his chair, and starts heading towards his office door.

Phillip watches him leave, astonished. "Where are you going? Don't you know what's going to happen if we don't file those taxes?"

"They can't close us down," P.T. claims, overflowing with certainty. "Can't you see what we've created?" He gestures towards the golden accents, the colorful decorations that line the walls and the floor of the circus building. Down in the ring below, the oddities are rehearsing a new dance number. P.T. pauses on the catwalk, fondly looking down upon everybody. "Looking good, guys!" he shouts to them, giving them a thumbs-up.

He continues walking towards the stairs, and Phillip rushes after him. "All of this is what you've created, P.T. And it's all gonna be gone if you deliberately go against the law!"

"I never said I wouldn't file them," P.T. says, quickly descending the stairs with an almost-gallop in his step, "I just haven't done it yet."

Phillip groans in frustration, continuing to follow his boss down to the first floor. When they reach the landing, he grabs onto P.T.'s arm, spinning him around.

"P.T., you know what needs to be done. It doesn't matter that we sell this place out every night, with just one government official's word it can all go away, and no amount of money will be able to bring it back," he says, his voice low. "Is that really want you want? Everything you've built, the positive name you've made for yourself becoming negative?"

P.T. looks out among his oddities for a minute, then returns his attention to his apprentice with a smile. "I've just got a lot of things on my hands right now, Phillip. But it'll get done. Don't you worry." He pats the top of Phillip's head in a condescending manner before turning around and going outside, leaving the younger man dumbfounded and incredibly frustrated.

As the door shuts in his face, he groans throatily, spinning around on his heel. Knots of anger twist and turn in the pit of his stomach, rising up into his chest. He loves the man, he has to say—but there's a reason P.T. convinced him to run off and join the circus, and it's times like these that Phillip has a hard time seeing why.

He's watching the oddities' rehearsal for a moment, trying to calm himself down and figure out a new game plan, when he notices Anne walking towards him.

"Stubborn, isn't he?" she says with a playful smile, wrapping her arms around Phillip's shoulders.

"Just a little," he responds, afraid to say anything he might regret later on. "I don't know how to make him get it."

Anne chuckles, lovingly squeezing her boyfriend's shoulder. "We'll be fine," she assures him, beginning to lead him towards the ring.

"Yeah, if he actually files the damn taxes," Phillip mutters under his breath, but, with the commotion of everybody around them, he doubts Anne even hears him.

He sighs.