Rewriting the Stars

The Greatest Show

The taller of the sisters caught hold of a bar, easily swinging forward and flipping so that she was hanging by her legs; she reached out and caught the other woman by the hands, pulling her up as they swung away again. The smaller girl – a blonde wearing a pink leotard – reached out when her sister let go of her hands, grabbing onto a hoop; she gracefully climbed up onto the rope it was hanging from, stretching her legs out and beaming down at the audience. The older woman – dark-haired and clad in a bright blue leotard – swung once more and grabbed hold of another hoop, hoisting herself to sit in it as she looked across the ring.

The audience cheered, but the girls were not finished yet; the blonde was now hooking her legs in her hoop, swinging upside down and gaining more momentum with each passing second. The dark-haired woman merely swung, reaching out her legs and stretching; when she was close enough, her sister took hold of her legs – and then they were flying once more, the blonde holding tightly to her sister's ankles. As they swung towards him, Newt found himself focusing on the brunette; she was so incredibly close now, and while she wasn't low enough to hit him, it was still close enough to see the relaxed look on her face as she opened her eyes.

Time seemed to stop as her gaze met his, dark brown eyes meeting greenish-blue; she was stunning, absolutely breath-taking, beneath the lights of the circus. Newt could only stare in awe, feeling his heart start to race in his chest as a small smile graced her features – for a moment, there seemed to be a connection, a shared moment between the two of them that could have lasted forever.

And then she was gone again, swinging in the opposite direction to perform one final trick.

He could barely concentrate on the rest of the show once the sisters had taken their bow; the entire circus appeared again for a closing number, and he searched the throng of performers for the girl again. She wasn't dancing on the ground, so he looked up to the air – and there she was, twirling on a hoop in a way that she made look easy. He couldn't take his eyes from her, not even as he clapped along with the screaming crowd after the bearded lady sung a high note.

The spotlights dimmed, casting the building in complete darkness; when the house lights came back on seconds later, she was gone.

***

Despite himself, he returned to the show the next night in the hopes of glimpsing the beautiful trapeze artist once more; he waited patiently during the other acts, clapping accordingly when needed but still waiting for the aerial act to begin. When Graves stepped out into the ring to announce the Goldstein sisters' act, Newt immediately straightened up and raised his eyes to watch.

And there she was, in her bright blue leotard again as she flew through the air with her sister; he was utterly captivated by the sight of her twirling and twisting on the ropes, gracefully falling and catching herself at the last second. The costume she was wearing was rather revealing, leaving long bare legs on display, and Newt could feel a slight heat rise in his cheeks at the sight; he hadn't seen that much of a woman's legs before, it wasn't considered proper, and his family would have been scandalised by the sight. Still, it was more than easy to forget just how little she was wearing as he watched her fly through the air gracefully, seeming completely at home in the air. The act finished slightly differently than the previous night, with the two sisters falling into the arms of the other performers waiting in the ring before standing to take their bows; nearly all of the members of the audience were on their feet, giving them a standing ovation complete with shouts of admiration. The Englishman clambered to stand with them, unable to stop himself from grinning as he kept his gaze on the dark-haired trapeze artist; she bowed with a small smile, holding hands with her sister on one side and the ring-master on her other.

Just like that, it was all over; the lights came up, the performers disappeared behind the curtain, and the audience buzzed as they made to leave the building. Newt felt somewhat disappointed, though he couldn't place why: he had seen the girl again, just like he had wanted, and he'd had a good time watching the other acts too – so why was he dissatisfied?

He found himself hanging back as the rest of the crowds left, looking around the building and at the ring in interest; a part of him couldn't help but hope that perhaps the woman would be at the door to say goodbye to crowd members tonight, that he could maybe say something to her (what, he didn't know). To his disappointment, however, the ring-master and the woman in the turban were at the door instead.

"...Thank you for coming to the show tonight!" He heard Graves exclaimed, rather upbeat as he tipped his hat to two young ladies. "Remember, folks, it's a different show every night – different acts, different tricks, you name it! Next time, be sure to bring all your friends and family!"

Newt was one of the last few people to leave, hoping until the very last second that he might see the trapeze girl once more; she did not reappear, much to his disappointment. As he was nearing the door, however, the sound of raised voices caught his attention, and he peered over the heads of the other crowd members to see what was happening.

"...You should take your freaks outta our town!" A man was snarling, flanked by a group of other similarly angry-looking men. "We don't want them here!"

"I won't ask you again, gentlemen," Graves said seriously, putting himself between the woman in the turban and the protesters. "Show's over, and you're trespassing on our property."

"Your property?!" The man exclaimed incredously. "You're in our town, with all your...your freaks and your weirdos..."

One of the other men's eyes flickered to the woman in the turban, and he sneered. "Nigger lover."

The ring-master stepped forwards, raising his cane and looking murderous; the dark-skinned woman took hold of his arm and sent the protester a withering look. "Ignore them, Percy. These small-minded people aren't worth the trouble."

Still smirking and laughing to themselves, the men walked away from the circus; several audience members who had still been around looked visibly uncomfortable, avoiding looking at the two performers as they hurriedly left the building. Newt could only frown to himself; he couldn't believe that people would treat others like that, even though he'd seen it first-hand for himself numerous times – it was baffling that people could be so cruel. He had been subject to it a few times, mostly at school, but never anything like that.

He didn't realize he was the very last person to leave until he was greeted at the door by Graves and the woman, both of them smiling politely at the sight of him lingering.

"Show's over, I'm afraid," The ring-master jibed good-naturedly, though he still looked visibly vexed. "You can always buy a ticket for our next show, however – both parties profit that way, after all."

"Oh, ah, right," He mumbled, smoothing down his coat and avoiding the older man's eyes. "Of course. I'm sorry, I'll be leaving now."

"You were here last night," The woman in the turban – Seraphina, he recalled – stated, and her eyes were twinkling somewhat. "You must really enjoy our circus to come two nights in a row."

Newt floundered for a moment, not knowing how to explain; Graves looked bemused and chuckled. "Now, now, Sera, let's not chase off a paying customer – he's more than welcome to attend our shows as often as he wants, provided he buys a ticket each time. Tell me, son," He turned to the younger man playfully. "What was your favourite part of the show?"

"Oh. I...I didn't have a favourite part," He lied feebly. "Everything was...wonderful."

"Wonderful...never heard that word about our show before," Seraphina muttered with a smirk.

"No, but it has a nice ring to it," Graves decided, and his eyes seemed to flash for a moment. "Well, in any case, sir, have a good night – maybe we'll see you again soon!"

Newt ducked his head, hastily walking away and not looking back; as much as he hated to admit it, a part of him was hoping to see the show again – though now that he had been noticed as attending twice, perhaps it wasn't an option. He couldn't help but wish that he'd gotten the chance to speak to the trapeze artist, though what he would have said was still unclear to him – he would have most likely just embarrassed himself, he thought, as he did around most people.

Sighing and tucking his hands into his coat pockets, Newt set off down the street for his hotel room, wishing despite himself that there was a way he could talk to the beautiful trapeze girl properly, that there was a way of introducing himself to her. For now, he would have to settle with the memories of her flying through the air, of her bright blue leotard, and of her dark eyes as she swung his way.