Beyblade Burst {Boyfriend x Reader}

Phoenix (Cuza)

So here it is star_b_fly12. I mainly focused on Cuza's childhood, because you don't find all that many of those fics out there that reference his growing up in the circus.

'We'll always be friends right?'

'Always.'

Those words would always ring through your head without failure, right before every show. The childhood memories that should have brought a fond remembrance, were tainted by the bittersweet sting of betrayal.

Cuza Ackerman.

He had been your best friend for as far back as your mind stretched. The two of you had been born into families that were part of a circus, and being the same age, you had naturally gravitated toward one another. You had laughed together, fought together, grown together and performed together.

That was all until that faithful day, when Cuza had received his Bey Cognite. What had begun as a passing fancy had slowly, but surely monopolized all of Cuza's spare time and attention, to the point where you barely talked. But everything hit rock bottom when your circus had crossed paths with another.

Top Wand.

Not just a travelling team of circus performers, but Germany's representing team. When he saw the chance, Cuza leapt for it, joined Top Wand, and never looked back. Leaving you behind, a broken performer with nothing but memories.

They said that the best thing about hitting rock bottom, was that there was nowhere else to go but up. However, there was an exception to every rule, and it seemed to prove true in this scenario. A few weeks later, another acrobat had joined your act, and you had never blamed him for what had occurred during your first show together. His experience paled in comparison to your own, and he had bitten off more than he could chew, jumping right into your normal style of routine, that was far above his skill set at the time.

One moment you had been sailing through the air, reaching out, only to miss his grasp. The next thing you knew, you were falling. Looking back on it now, the acrobat hadn’t been at the peak of his swing, but at the same time, you perhaps should have earlier taken note that it was not something he was ready for. No one was to blame that night. The equipment wasn’t faulty, and you always performed without a net. The only thing that had saved you from certain death, was the strong man performing his own act that had broken your fall.

For that, you were grateful. That night, you could have lost your life, instead, it was a badly sprained ankle. But that was only the physical wound, psychologically, your were scarred with something much greater. A deep scar that only made itself known six weeks later.

Your ankle had healed, the doctor had given you the all clear to get back on the trapeze. You had climbed the ladder, mild trepidation making itself known. Shaking off the nerves, you reached the platform. That was when it struck.

Fear. A cold, all consuming dread wrapped you in its unforgiving grasp. You found yourself frozen. Unable to move, or form a coherent thought.

You couldn't remember your parents or the other acrobats calling up to you, nor could you remember how long you had stood there for. You had a vague recollection of an acrobat climbing up to you, hoisting you over their shoulder and taking you back down.

Your wings had been clipped, and you hadn't flown since.

Eventually, you had found another calling. Your parents had both been acrobats, until your dad had been promoted to ringmaster following with the previous one's retirement. When you had been old enough, you had followed in their footsteps. While you had loved it while it lasted, you had found your true calling in something else. Another act entirely.