sweethearts

𝟎𝟏 • pop! goes the weasel

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CHAPTER ONE:
"POP! GOES THE WEASEL"
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February 14th, 2015.
Gotham City, New Jersey

"I DON'T THINK I like you very much." Alíz mutters as she rubs her temples in frustration. John Grayson looked taken aback as he crosses his arms, "Wow, ok, like I care." She could hear the bitterness in his words. Alíz opens her eyes to see him again, his face looked childish.

"John, not only did you initiate this conversation, you also tried to kiss me not even ten seconds ago." Alíz's lips pressed into a firm line as she says this, hoping to get her point across. John shrugs in exasperation, "What's that gotta do with anything?" The girl didn't want to roll her eyes just yet, so instead, she clenched her jaw, "How old are you again?" The boy's eyes dart awkwardly at his surroundings, hesitant to answer, "I turned twenty-six this year..." Alíz nods her head slowly, "Can you take a guess at how old I am?" John shifts his weight from one leg to another, "You are um..."

"Seventeen." Alíz finishes his thought for him, "I'm seventeen years old." John's face remained with its childlike expression of rejection. "Not only am I way younger than you, I also have a boyfriend," she says this slowly as if she were a teacher repeating a question. "He is a crazy jealous person, by the way." John scoffs at this to which Alíz raises her brow, "Something you'd like to share with the class, Grayson?" The girl asks dramatically as she raises her arms up and letting them fall back down to her sides. John now sports a smug smile on his face, "Your boyfriend? The Valeska kid?" Alíz nods her head slightly, "That's him."

John shrugs, "I could take him in a fight." Alíz shakes her head and wears a frown, "Who fucking cares, Grayson?" She brings her hands up to her temples once more, "You don't even like me, you're just looking for anyone else to like because you're too scared to admit that you're in love with Mary Lloyd." Alíz looks up at John to see his smug smile was gone and replaced with a look of shame. "Just ask her out already and leave me the hell alone." She pushes his chest roughly before walking away, hoping she finally got her rejection through his thick skull.

As she walks across the circus grounds, she notices the performance tent was lit up with extravagant stage lights, and the distant cheers of the audience rang throughout the desolate surroundings. The girl looks down at the watch on her wrist, eight-thirty pm. Shit. Alíz was late. She was supposed to open for the circus that night. But, Alíz was distracted by John Grayson's unwanted affections. The show must go on—that phrase rang true even with the oddest of circus goers.

C. C. Haly was just a name. He was a man without a face. Barely anybody saw him around the circus. He ran it, he owned it, he named it after himself, but he never took the time to actually know his employees. The only reason anybody knew he was a living, breathing man was because of the piles of assignments left in his tent every morning. Every single file was meticulously sorted and labeled—evidence that someone had to have been around. Alíz has never missed a performance before, never left an assignment incomplete. This was a first for her.

The girl eventually retreats to her trailer after a few moments of just standing there, marinating in this sudden fear of the unknown. Alíz opens the door to her trailer and is met with none other than Jerome Valeska sitting on her couch. She wasn't expecting him to be there, but it's not like she ever had a moment of privacy anymore. He was always there whether it was unwanted or not. Alíz locks the door behind her and tosses her keys on the nearby kitchen counter. The keys land with a clashing jingle of metal and solid wood that made Alíz cringe slightly.