Quick author's note:

I almost set this story in 1920s Korea, but I came to the conclusion that it would not be for the best. I would hate to trivialize any of the atrocities that happened, offend anyone, or represent the era in a way that is inaccurate. To avoid this, I have set this in a fantasy country, one where the 1920s were flooding with booze and parties and distractions -- one where a circus would thrive, and Baekhyun would find himself in this situation. I hope that you understand why I did this, and I hope that this will clear up any vagueness in the setting, as I wanted this piece of fiction to stay just that: fictional. Thanks for all the support on my previous works, and I hope you enjoy this too. <3

-- 

The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and cooking food, with the voices of hundreds of people, all enchanted and buzzing to the sound of booming voices from the silken tent in the distance. Amidst the chaos, Baekhyun watches fireworks dance their way into the sky, courting their partner with almost-touches and faint sparks of light before finally meeting in the middle, dyeing the black expanse a frothy red. 

Fireworks are beautiful, he thinks. Fireworks are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

They are so much more beautiful than gray streets, than grubby hands grabbing for coat lapels, voices ragged with desperation and food and money. Anything is more alluring than a life begging for work, than a life where Baekhyun teaches piano to rich young ladies and avoids their eyes and questions fervently. A life where he hopes for another day of work and fumbles with numb fingers to teach folk songs, surrounded by a foreign type of opulence that makes him swallow hard -- fireworks are infinitely brighter. 

Baekhyun's catching his breath, dizzy and overwhelmed from the crackling sound in the sky, from the scarlet tint covering everyone in the vicinity. The crowd swells around the boy like the sea, crashing and foaming against his small frame, throwing him from place to place as he stumbles for anything to hold him steady in this flow of people. 

The circus is busy tonight -- or maybe this kind of rush indicates a slow night, after all. Baekhyun wouldn't know, as he'd never been before, not when his entire childhood and youth had been spent in the dull corner apartments and sidewalks of the city, his only talent keeping his blood circulating and stomach full. Piano kept him alive, and now it brings him to the circus, surrounded by women in satin dresses and fur shawls, thrown in among men whose suits shine with wealth and splendor. 

His own clothes blend in with the flattened brown dirt under their feet, muted earth tones that leave him feeling awfully drab, awfully out of place among all this magnificence. This new world of excitement and glamor seems to revolve around the silver tent, around the stream of people headed toward it. Baekhyun is one of them now, one of the circus-goers, the fabled magic's onlookers, and his knees wobble as he forces his body to keep up with the crowd instead of getting lost in it.  

"Watch where you're walking, son," the voice is gruff and weathered, obviously an older man. Before Baekhyun has even looked up to meet his eyes, he has honed in on his camel suit, on the shoes that shine despite the dust floating through the air. Wealth, his entire presence screams -- Baekhyun needs to grovel.

"I apologize, sir." 

He makes brief eye contact with the man, shrinking under his gaze, an animalistic instinct to make himself smaller crawling back to the surface of his consciousness. He hadn't expected this compulsion to follow him into the next chapter of his life, but he supposes that, no matter where he treks, there will be entitled men, and he will always cower below them. Years of huddled housing and cold nights on the streets leaves this rooted deep in his mind, no matter if he is on the streets or in the midst of the nation's best circus performers. 

And then he's scurrying away from the man, eyes focused on the rapidly approaching tent, on the loudening noises and intensifying smells. The Elyxion circus is shrouded in shimmering cloth and vivid signs, an explosion of paint and texture against this dark backdrop. As he draws closer, the entire area reeks of incense and honey and alcohol, like dreams and futures and nights of immeasurable entertainment. He isn't quite sure whether it is the crowd he's in or the circus itself, but here, there is electricity flowing through the air, and it feels as though he could bottle this moment in time if he tried hard enough, the entire atmosphere real enough to touch. 

The ocean of people parts in the middle, separate rivers flowing toward respective seating, and Baekhyun is caught in a waterfall, tumbling into the middle of it all, caught in confusion and drowned in silver fabric. He's inside the tent now, and, despite knowing very well that this is a respected circus, that tales of its wonder have been told far and wide, he hadn't expected any of what greeted him inside. Decadent drapes filled with glitter, velvet lining each corner, exotic food and drink lining the walls -- every square inch of this ring is filled with exquisite crafts and sparkling details. Baekhyun's mouth waters at the smell of the food, at the sight of the dancers off to the side, covered from head to toe in feathers and sequins and rouge.

It's overwhelming, but he loves it, adores the way his fingers tremble and his breathing quickens at each flash of movement. He was sent here, and he will remain here if it's the last thing he does. A dazzling, stupifying environment like this makes his mind reel with possibilities, with pride, with hope. There are no dusty streets waiting for him anymore -- no factories and stuffy houses with grand pianos and judging mistresses. He breathes in the heady mix of alcohol and saccharine treats, lets the delight of this new life fill his entire chest until he fears he may burst. 

He moves to stand off from the rest of the crowd and fumbles to grab the note he has shoved in his suitpocket, though he knows it's terribly crumpled by now. Hopefully, it will be enough -- and hopefully, chaos will become his new normal, glitter and drama drowning out each moment of his life, silencing the struggles of his past. The circus is a beautiful distraction to most, and a sanctuary to him. 

Find Kim Junmyeon. He is the ringmaster of Elyxion Circus. He will recognize my name. Play for him. 

And so Baekhyun throws himself back into the crowd, searching for any sign of a man with authority, for someone who seems to know where to find Kim Junmyeon. The man mentioned in the note, he had heard of in quieter days -- whispered stories of the fantasies that unfold at the circus, of the handsome man whose hands spin stories and whose captivating voice leave you speechless. The ringmaster is a master storyteller, a charming man that holds the gaze of all he encounters, and Baekhyun knows that when he sees him, he will know, deep down.

It's hard to distinguish a glittering showcomer from an actual worker, but Baekhyun manages to rest an uneasy hand on the elbow of a bedazzled girl, meeting her heavily lined eyes and the spider-like lashes that hang from them with uncertainty. She is beautiful but slightly terrifying, and Baekhyun smiles at her to disspell the anxiety that tingles deep inside him. 

"Excuse me. I am looking for Kim Junmyeon, the ringmaster," Baekhyun tries his very best to not let his eyes fall on her bare chest and the colorful swirls of glitter that span across it. He focuses on her shimmering makeup instead, mapping the curve of her lips under her inky blue lipstick. "Ma'am." 

She smiles at his hesistant formality, at the way his eyes dance across her cheekbones instead of trailing to the dazzling fringe that shakes with each breath she takes. He is nervous and dressed like a poor boy attempting to masquerade as a reputable man -- Baekhyun knows it, and so he offers her a tiny, embarrassed smile and hopes for the best. 

"And you are?" she drawls out each syllable, voice accented and lovely.

"Byun Baekhyun, ma'am. I'm a pianist. I was recommended by a former employer to audition for the band here," her eyebrows raise up, thin and penciled in, the tips of each accented with fake jewels. "I was told that Kim Junmyeon would help me to become part of the nation's greatest entertainment." 

She laughs at that, and a pale hand finds its way around his wrist, pulling him closer to her. She smells like an alcohol that he's never tried, potent and exhilerating and slightly staggering. She also smells like pressed roses, like dying flowers preserved in old books, like smiles that burn into the side of his head. Baekhyun looks around, trying to see if anyone in this crowded tent has noticed what is going on -- is he allowed to be this close to her? Is he allowed to distract her only an hour before the show must start? 

"I will take you to him, Baekhyun," a pause, and she says something to another dancer in a foreign language, hurried and bright. It's Chinese, he thinks, but he can't be sure -- it'd been years since he'd been able to read or understand much more than a few Chinese characters, since he'd last had the opportunity to try. "Nation's greatest entertainment, huh? You should try to use that phrase when you speak to him. He is rather proud of his circus, after all. He is a proud man." 

"Thank you, ma'am." 

"Song Qian," her lips go thin when she smiles, as dazzling as the dangling earrings that adorn her. "That's my name. You will meet more of the dancers if you are permitted to stay. Hopefully, we will meet again." 

And Baekhyun nods, eyes filled with her smile and the striped pattern of the curtain she is leading him to, a sickly pink and red combination that makes him nervous yet thrilled. Nothing here is beige or bland -- nothing here is quite like anything else he's ever experienced, and he finds himself relaxing against the dancer's grip on him, pleased to just bask in the assortment of hues and textures. The fireworks earlier had stunned his senses, and he had never come down from it, had never recovered fully, too entranced in each detail of the circus and the people inside of it. 

"Where is Junmyeon?" she's whispering to a man, voice low and secretive. Baekhyun suddenly understands that she is not supposed to call him by only his first name, and his mind races to file it away, to keep it in mind when he is in his presence. "I have a prospective pianist, apparently." 

The man turns to him, skin glimmering with some sort of sheen -- it is not sweat, but rather oil and glitter mixed together, a mess of silver and gold splayed over his tan skin. His eyes shimmer too, though Baekhyun doesn't think that has anything to do with the glitter but rather the light that is reflected from it. He is shining and confident, eyes mulling over each of Baekhyun's features for a moment too long. Baekhyun doesn't know whether to be offended or flattered by the odd look in his eye. He ignores the way he looks him up and down once again, trying to memorize the path they took to get here and the striking colors that grace every corner of his vision. 

"He should be in his office, I suppose," he his lips, and Baekhyun suddenly feels the urge to run away and hide, too swept up in the air he exudes to breathe properly. This man is powerful, and he knows it. "Are you sure he knows how to play piano? He seems as though he walked in off the streets. I am not sure our ringmaster needs to bother himself." 

Baekhyun should be offended, but he knows that he looks meager and sad compared to the rest of the bustling crew, compared to the ephemeral girl standing next to him. Her hand grips his wrist tighter, almost protectively, and the hopes that had started to sizzle in his chest reignite, suddenly blazing. He has one advocate, and for that, he will be eternally grateful. 

"I know nothing for certain, Jongin. But I do know better than to judge. You should try it." 

They push past him (Song Qian purposely, and Baekhyun by the will of her strong grip and hard eyes.) Baekhyun can't tell if the gaze he feels following him belongs to Jongin or the other performers in the room, but he knows his face has turned red. Even the gorgeous, yet precariously-hung chandelier cannot do much to distract him from the utter mortification running through his blood at the thought of this many people judging him as a poor conman, a fraud. 

"He is also a proud man, though a much more foolish one than our ringmaster," her words cut like knives, and Baekhyun hopes that Jongin hasn't heard them. "He is a contortionist, as am I. We work together every night -- there is no bad blood, so do not worry that your arrival caused anything. He is just the type of man that must be put in his place." 

Baekhyun thinks she is the most terrifying, thrilling, woman he has ever met. Before, when he'd scoured the streets for job openings and potential students, he would hope to meet someone like her, someone whose words are sharp and smile is soft. Baekhyun understands why Jongin quiets in front of her, why the other dancers part ways as she leads him to the back office. 

"This is it," her hand leaves his wrist, and Baekhyun has forgotten all the embarrassment and wonder from before, nerves filling his entire body within seconds. "Flatter his ego, and impress with your skills. You will be fine." 

There are soft, blue lips against each of his cheeks, lingering scent of unfamiliar alcohol and fading flowers attached to each. He barely has time to register the closeness of it, the impropriety of it, before she is gone and he is staring at a makeshift door, the most modest thing he's seen since he's arrived at the entrance to the tent. Every moment that he waits is another moment to panic, and so he knocks on the flimsy wood, hearing the way it echoes back at him in a hollow way, just like all the fake jewels he'd spotted on Song Qian, all the empty promises that luxurious fabrics and confident voices had whispered to him. 

"Come in." 

He is mildly surprised by the dark tone of this room, by the plain fabrics and patterns that make up the walls, the practical clothes that encompass the man before him. Ringmaster Junmyeon, he is sure, has his charms on the stage -- off of it, however, he finds himself underwhelmed, staring at a normal man in a normal suit, easily the most average of all in this circus. He thinks back to the glitz and the glam of everyone he'd met, to the sparkle that each performer exuded, and then back to the ringmaster in front of him. 

"Mr. Kim Junmyeon? Hello, sir, I am Byun Baekhyun, a pianist," his eyebrows raise, not recognizing the unknown young boy's name. Baekhyun scrambles to shut the door behind him, to match the intense gaze that he's receiving, suddenly realizing that Junmyeon is intimidating and powerful in ways that his clothes need not convey. "My former employer, Mr. Cho Kyuhyun, informed me that I would be a good fit for this circus' band." 

Junmyeon takes interest at that, eyes lighting up as he leans forward, elbows meeting the sturdy wood of his desk. Baekhyun's eyes trail to the papers and materials thrown across it, smiling internally at the way the ringmaster completely disregards them, eyes intense and focused on him solely. He is handsome and charming -- Baekhyun understands his role and reputation, suddenly. 

"Cho Kyuhyun? I know of him, yes. A rather talented playwright in his day -- we spent some of our youth together, writing. Although we ended up becoming different types of storytellers, I suppose. How were you employed by him, exactly?" 

"I taught piano to his niece when I could."

It doesn't sound like much, he realizes, and he feels very conscious of how the ringmaster's eyes have narrowed at his words.

"He was aware that, although I had a past of infrequent employment and, well, unfortunate circumstances, I was talented musically. When he heard of my interest in a career related to piano, he recommended that I call on his old friend to let me take part in this wonderful show." 

Junmyeon laughs at that, dry and not truly full of humor. Baekhyun's throat is closing.  

"We prefer to take in performers and musicians who strive to be here, who long for it with every fiber of their being -- I am not sure that you fit the bill. I am not sure you want this much more than any other job. Being part of the Elyxion circus is not playing piano for a rich man's pitiful niece." 

Baekhyun can only watch as Junmyeon stands and paces toward him, eyeing him up and down critically, critical gaze not missing a single nervous twitch. He is being observed, studied, and his mind flashes to Song Qian's words -- flatter him and impress with your talents. He will try his best to paint himself with Jongin's confidence, to walk in Song Qian's dominance for a brief moment, to play into Junmyeon's game of pride.

"I have always longed for a way to perform music. There is no greater honor than becoming part of the nation's greatest circus, to help put on the show of a lifetime every single night," Baekhyun's voice is sincere, raw over the thought of losing this opportunity at a new life, at existing in such a sparkling world, even if only for the briefest of moments. "I was drawn here by Mr. Cho's recommendation, yes, but there is something special about this circus that has always entranced me." 

"And what may that be?" 

His pride, his ego, his need for validation in everything his performers do -- Baekhyun has hit it, has cracked the shell of this charismatic man, and he is smiling sweetly toward the man. Years on the streets may have taught him to be tough, to withstand insults, but it had also taught him a vital lesson: play on the strengths, exploit the weaknesses. 

"Well, of course, it is the fact Elyxion is the only circus to remain solitary. There is no travelling done, as it is a national landmark in and of itself, and people will flock from far and wide to witness it each night. Being nonmoving, it is the only of its kind to have full orchestras, to have grand pianos and elaborate music and enthralling stages -- there is no rush in any of it, just dedication and elegance. It is magnificent, as everyone already knows." 

This is what he'd wanted to hear, what the man had longed for Baekhyun to lead with, and it's confirmed when a warm hand claps onto his shoulder, sheltering and frightening at the same time. Baekhyun's shoulders, already heavy with the weight of his future, with the absurdity of tonight, collapse under Junmyeon's commanding hand. 

"Our audience will have to judge whether you are truly talented or not, won't they?" Junmyeon's hand leaves him to grab for velvet cloth and glimmering scarves. Baekhyun's eyes widen at his words, at the way he shrugs off his dark suit coat and shrugs on an emerald green one instead, at the way his eyes change the second he is engulfed in velvet scarves and glimmering gloves. 

"Sir, do you mean --" 

"I would like you to play the score for Yixing's tightrope act tonight. It must be choppy and suspenseful -- you cannot play it with half a heart; it is not a children's nursery rhyme, as you teach," Junmyeon's aura is completely different, a new type of confidence and finality. He's tinting his lips pink from something inside his pocket, and Baekhyun watches with wide eyes as he uses the same to give himself rosy cheeks, eyes simmering with seriousness and face radiating warmth. "If you do not live up to our expectations, you will be leaving tomorrow morning, please. I do hope to see you at breakfast, though." 

Baekhyun isn't sure what he should say, too entranced by the way Junmyeon has changed in so little time, now a glimmering man with lips that sing of carnations -- he has gone into his character fully, has delved into the charm of a circus ringmaster, and he has granted this pianist the chance of a life time. 

"Thank you sir, thank you! I will try my best, I promise, I will memorize it as soon as I see the sheet music, I promise --" Junmyeon's smiling, hand back to resting on Baekhyun's shoulder, though this time his eyes follow it, resting on his clothes with obvious distaste. "Thank you for this opportunity. I will work hard, sir. I will make you proud."

"Make me proud by visiting the costumes and stealing something for yourself, please. No member of my circus -- no matter how hidden -- wears this dusty color. It simply will not happen." 

-- 

He's in sky blue and covered in glitter -- not fully intentional, so to say, but rather, every piece of clothing is drowning in it, leaving him a glimmering mess of ocean waves and blooming blue flowers by the time he's fully dressed. A tiny girl tied a sequined piece of fabric tight around his neck, tucking it into his shirt and leaving, and, truly, the more he looks at it, the more he is convinced that he must be dreaming this moment. 

He has never looked in the mirror and seen someone who sparkles, who dazzles, who reflects light and dyes those around him with easy smiles and music. In this makeshift outfit and infectious shimmer, he feels like a new person, completely reinvented from the Baekhyun who is quiet and whispers when his students hit the wrong note, the Baekhyun who fights for a way to sleep in a warm place at night, feeling guilty every time he is the one who lucks out.

Gone is the Baekhyun who shakes in front of his employers, the one who fears tan boys with lazy smiles and beautiful women with blue lipstick. Now, he is one of them -- in an odd, tiny way, he is a piece of this show, a piece of the diamond that glitters for onlookers to gaze at.

Now, he is part of Elyxion circus, and he shimmers most brightly when he is performing his music, staccato and panicked, just as Yixing is acting to be. 

Zhang Yixing, a rather nice, quiet man as far as Baekhyun can tell, transforms himself for the crowd, too. His tiny voice and shy smiles are gone when he is balancing, muscles taut and face shining with sweat more than anything else. Baekhyun had memorized the notes, the standard, nerve-inducing song he was to perform. His eyes trained on the man walking fifty feet above him, he lets his fingers move slowly, lightly, only intensifying their progression through the chords when Yixing makes an exaggerated shaking motion. There is no fear in his eyes, but the dramatic effect that he imposes upon the audience leaves Baekhyun struggling to breathe along with them, something deep down inside him whispering the net is not enough. 

But the tightrope walker is talented at this, trained in balance and theatrics, and Baekhyun's fingers speed to catch the end of the song as Yixing makes his final escapade across the thin rope, narrowly making his way to the other side. The crowd is yelling frantically, and Baekhyun is sweating through his new shirt, through the layers of makeup and glitter and fear that he had built up.

It is over, and he feels alive, stomach rolling with each voice that shouts from the crowd, from each excited voice that drifts from backstage. All he can think about is the way multiple hands receive him eagerly, proud of the new guy, voices excited and welcoming -- Baekhyun has never felt this many emotions bubbling inside him before, and he is sure he will burst at some point. 

Not that it matters, truly -- he will have breakfast here tomorrow, the next day, and the next. He will meet those fond gazes lovingly, will melt into the laughter and alcohol of the circus, of the people who he is surrounded by. He will close his eyes and feel as though the shimmering material of his shirt has wrapped him up completely, has eaten him from the inside out, has replaced every moment of doubt in his life with glitter and excited laughter. 

-- 

His fourth drink -- maybe fifth, actually? -- doesn't even burn his throat. By now, his entire body is numb, filled with a heat that he didn't know he could feel. His cheeks are on fire, and he's laying in the lap of someone he doesn't know, a nice boy with tiny hands and a laugh that makes him laugh too. Baekhyun finds himself playing with the hands that are resting on his hips, leaning against a sturdy neck while everyone around them hoots and hollers, making his head spin and twirl and dance (just like Song Qian and Jongin did earlier that night.) 

The colors in this part of the ring are deep and rich like a painting come to life, a clash of colors and patterns and people's voices. Overwhelming and comforting -- happy and exhausted, filled to the brim with confusion and contentment. 

"Minseok, why are you cuddling the new guy?" a boy around Baekhyun's age pouts, and Baekhyun giggles because he's the new guy, and he is being cuddled, after all. He likes it. He was never this close to anyone before, not even the people he considered friends, not even the ones he'd wanted to hold like this. "You normally lead the drinking games."

This tiny room and the curtains that surround it make him feel safe, loved, and he doesn't even care that he's never been this drunk in his life, that he's never met any of these people before. He doesn't even care that, usually, he'd be panicking over how he would pay for a single drink on his own, and now he is downing them and falling into strangers arms to dance with them across patterned rugs. 

"He's drunk, really drunk," Minseok's voice is close and Baekhyun likes the way his nails are tinted different colors. It's a type of beautiful that he didn't know boys were allowed to be, and Baekhyun wants to do it too -- he wants to wear eyeliner and lipstick and color his nails however he wants. He wants to live in vibrant colors and drink vibrant drinks and interact with vibrant people. "Don't think I should leave him alone. He doesn't know his way around yet."

Baekhyun laughs at that, rolling around in Minseok's grip and letting his head rest against the shorter's sweaty collarbones, completely serene with this development. Minseok is nice -- Minseok is his new best friend, he's decided. The room goes silent for a moment, and it makes him look up, scared suddenly -- maybe this was a dream, and he is back in a shabby town with people who look at him with nothing but pity. 

Instead of familiar judging eyes, he meets new ones -- deep brown and big, a faint hint of charcoal black eyeliner in the corner of each. Baekhyun's eyes follow the slope of his nose and land on his lips in a sleepy haze, warmth overtaking him when the new eyes don't look away, overpowering him in every way he thinks possible. He is so tall that it is intimidating, standing out against doorway.  He is still holding their eye contact, and Baekhyun is confused, so confused, so dizzy and full of liquor that he can't think clearly. 

"Ringmaster Junmyeon wants to see Minseok later about his act," his voice is deep, and Baekhyun recognizes suddenly that the tall stranger was staring at the man holding him, not truly him. His stomach pangs with nausea and a bit of disappointment. "Something about a new trapeze trick he should learn. And quiet down. Some performers like to actually sleep." 

His long legs are moving before Baekhyun's brain is, and his head is spinning against Minseok's chest. That man was attractive and intimidating -- Baekhyun doesn't know if he likes the combination, or if his drunken brain is fooling him into thinking that man made the room tilt a little more. 

"Who was that?" Baekhyun whispers it to Minseok, voice slurred and eyes bleary.

"That's Park Chanyeol," a sigh from under him, and suddenly Baekhyun is being moved from the man's chest to sit on his own, despondent. "He's our big finale, and he thinks that makes him a walking god. Just ignore him -- he keeps to himself, and we keep to ourselves. There's no need for you to worry." 

Baekhyun nods, although he thinks Minseok may have misinterpreted his interest for fear. But that can stay his secret, so he giggles in response and takes another drink. His stomach rolls with the new wave of alcohol, with the shimmering way he wants to bring Chanyeol down to their level and entrance his confident eyes with piano music and glimmering smiles. 

--

so....I tweeted about this as a joke....and then I couldn't stop thinking about it. So here's a circus!au perhaps? I hope you guys like, and I plan on continuing it because I think it'll be a fun one to write??? yeah 

(also: I will work on Serendipity more tomorrow, so I promise this won't delay it too much lol) 

comments and thoughts about this would always be appreciated <3333 love you guys!!!

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