Soft sand shifted under his sneakers, the hustle and bustle of the circus drowned out by brassy music playing from hidden speakers. Families and couples spilled into the space, red and yellow dappling every surface with garnish hues only intensified by the stark black and white of the mimes, jugglers and acrobats moving through the crowds, interacting with fascinated children and posing for journalists vying for position. Cirque des etoiles – the circus of stars. A tent that appeared, as if by magic, on the first of June and stayed for an undetermined amount of time before disappearing again. The schedules were always secret; even the performers didn’t know when they would take their leave, nor where they would reallocate to. Last year, they had stayed for three weeks. The year before, five days.

As an aerialist himself, Daehyun found it almost a requirement to visit and see the professional artists. At the moment, his hobby was just that – a hobby. As a broke student, recently graduated from high school and with no university to go to, he was in the process of job searching; a fruitless and rather depressing task that left him with tons of time to practice aerial silks, but no money for anything else. Days were spent going from building to building, handing out resumes and forcing a smile onto his lips even though most business owners were downright rude – nights bled by with triple fallen angels, lace locks, hawk climbs and slack drops.

The show was scheduled to start in ten minutes so he found himself a seat, directly under the hanging trapeze, the large, black aerial hoops and vibrantly coloured silks. The spaces around him quickly filled with photographers and young children as people settled down; the show was about to start.

A fast and heavy drumroll filled the tent before falling to a complete silence. They sat in darkness for three seconds before a spotlight switched on, illuminating two silhouettes that stepped out from behind a blue curtain. One, a curvy young female, wore black shorts with gold buttons, a white button down shirt and a velvet red waistcoat, cropped tight around her sides and flaring out at the bottom. On top of her curly brown hair was a tiny top hat, and she carried a riding crop in her left hand. The figure beside her was male; dressed similarly, holding a bull whip. They strolled out to the center of the stage, white gloved hands clasped together, which they raised simultaneously and yelled:

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages...welcome to the greatest circus on Earth, Cirque des etoile!"

Behind them, acrobats dressed in red and black and white and green spilled from behind the curtains, each completing a series of complicated flips and twists to get into their position. Daehyun was familiar with them, from his time at the circus school: back round offs, triple full layouts, double pikes, full twists. All executed perfectly, without a single stumble or over rotation. There was a spattering of applause and camera shutters clicked furiously, capturing each mid-air stunt.

“My name is Hyosung!” The ring mistress cried from where she stood, arms held out wide as if to greet each and every one of them.

“And my name is Himchan!” The male followed with a low bow, arm sweeping to the side.

They spoke in union, “and we welcome you! Here, you will have the most spectacular experience of your life…and witness things that you have never seen before! So, without further ado….” The man named Himchan spun his bullwhip in the air and cracked it; the lights went out with a bang, “on with the show!”

The lights come back on and the two are on horses, running side by side in tandem. As they exit, he seems to catch Himchan’s eyes before he disappears into the depths of backstage.

Everything else went as expected: flawlessly. Routines melded one into another; performers executed series of difficult tricks that looked ridiculously easy; tight rope walkers ran over wire suspended across the ceiling structure; fire breathers spat flames towards the skies. Daehyun was enraptured by each and every act, held on the edge of his seat as trapeze artists swung from one bar to the next, or aerialists dropped from great heights, or people stacked onto people into teetering towers of limbs.

When the lights dimmed and for the final time, it was as if he was broken from a trance. He didn’t move as others streamed from the bleachers out into the night, or to take pictures with the actors that appeared, sweaty and smiling, to talk to their audience members. Only when he was tapped on the shoulder did he startle and turn around, nose to nose with the ring master. Close up, he was even more handsome; sharp features, lined eyes, a smirk twisting thin lips. The man – Himchan, he remembered – tipped his top hat down in a kind of greeting and then, unbidden, dropped into the seat beside him.

“Himchan. Ring master. And you, sir?” The males voice was low and gravelly, even better in person than over the booming sound system.

“Daehyun.” He replied, surprised by how cool and collected he sounded. He even managed to extend a hand. “Your show was great tonight. I loved the contortionists and the aerial silks. I do aerial silks myself, so…”

Unexpected, his hand was caught by the white gloved one and brought to Himchan’s lips, a small kiss placed to his knuckles. Daehyun could only blink in shock, the rest of his sentence forgotten.

“Well, Daehyun,” the ring master chuckled, as if he knew the full affect that the kiss had on him, “if you do aerial silks, you might be interested in coming a few hours before the show. We have another boy, travelling with us and training to perform. You might want to meet him and practice a little bit.” His head tilted, a single eyebrow raising. “You may even get some tips from our senior performers.”

“Will you be there?” Daehyun blurted, unable to stop himself from asking if he would see the captivating male again. This time, it was Himchan’s turn to look surprised, although it was quickly hidden by another knowing smile.

“I will be around. If you do decide to come, I’ll tell the entrance workers to let a boy named Daehyun…?”

“Jung. Daehyun Jung.” He supplied with a smile, falling into the ease of flirtation. “And you are…?”

“Kim Himchan.” His name was called, from across the tent, and they both looked over to see his female counterpart stomping her foot and waving her riding crop around and making threatening gestures at him. With a sigh, Himchan got up from his seat. “I must be going. The mistress awaits.” With a bow, similar to the one that he had used to open the show, the other vaulted over the barrier separating audience from performers and paused, leaning his elbows against the worn wood. “I hope to see you tomorrow, Jung Daehyun.” He announced dramatically before turning to heed Hyosung’s demands. Daehyun was left, sitting on the bench, with a smile on his lips and plans for the next day.

Himchan would definitely see him tomorrow.

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ps im still looking for a beta hit me up if you wanna help me~