Donghae is supposed to be sweeping up three day old popcorn and glitter from the black and white linoleum floor, but instead he’s sitting in a bright red bleacher, staring in awe at the aerial artist twirling himself around a long, glimmering, and white piece of silk. His stage name was Casaria; Donghae had never had a chance to ask him what his real name was. Casaria, Casaria, Casaria. He often found himself repeating the name over and over again, liking the way it rolled off of his tongue like it was meant to be said by him. He’d bet his life that the aerial’s real name was just as beautiful.

He gasps as Casaria seemingly lets himself free fall, almost slamming into the ground, but he freezes centimetres above the floor. He flips honey brown hair out of his face and climbs back up the silk, breathing and sweating heavily after practicing for so long. Casaria wraps the silk under his arm, around his thigh multiple times and grasps it tightly before flipping several times. He manages to keep a radiant smile on his face and Donghae’s all but sobbing at how gorgeous of a human Casaria is, how exquisitely he performs. He was made to be up in the air. Flipping, floating, flying. He was an angel.

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be cleaning, Donghae.”

Donghae yelped, he hadn’t seen the red head prance up and was caught off guard. Casaria stopped mid-air and looked towards the two lone souls in the stands with wide, surprised eyes. He immediately unfurled himself from the silk and slid down, running off as soon as his feet touched the ground.

“He’s just so gorgeous.” Donghae sighed wistfully, picking up his abandoned broom stick, “Hyukjae, what do you know about him?”

“Not much.” Hyukjae shrugs. His face is stained with red and blue from the clown makeup he used. He looked like he’d taken a good beating, but Donghae knew better. “He’s been here since he was a kid, doesn’t talk much, spends most of his time up in the air or with the ring masters.”

“How old is he now?” Donghae asks, staring at the exit Casaria had taken.

“I’m not too sure, 17 or 18? 19 at the most.”

“Do you know what his real name is?”

“Nope. Minnie might know though, he’s been here longer than I have.”

The roust-about nods, still gazing at the place where Casaria had ran inside, hoping he’d come back out so he could get another look at that flawless face. His hopes are crushed after he finishes sweeping the floor and had seen no sign whatsoever of the aerial artist.

*

Though Donghae was only a roust-about, he had an amazing ability to play a multitude of instruments. The circus lacked in quantity, but it did excel in oddness. He often spent his afternoons in the instrument train car, pressing keys and blowing into reeds. Today, he had managed to make an upbeat song with the didgeridoo and was now fiddling around with his favourite circus instrument, the calliope. It was a seldom used instrument, the novelty of it had faded back in the 80s, and nobody was willing enough to drag the cart around the circus grounds.  Donghae took pride in his capability to play an insane tune on it though, despite it not being that popular of an instrument choice.

He played a few scales, getting his fingers used to running up and down the keys. Smiling at the steam that rises through the tops of the pipes, he begins to play a song befitting of the circus. The off-pitch notes the calliope releases are music to his ears and he gets more into the song after each measure he plays.

The door to the train car slides open slightly and silently, a pair of large, brown eyes peeks through the opening, grinning brightly in awe at the brunette pressing keys happily. He sighs and remains watching until the musician at the calliope stops and stares right at him.

“Casaria?” He asks, disbelieving, “Casaria!”

The aerial’s eyes widen as he slams the door and runs off, ignoring the man calling out to him. He looks around for a place to hide, groaning unhappily when the only car unlocked is a familiar red and black one he’d rather stay out of, knowing exactly who lurks behind its doors. Casaria opens the door woefully, knowing it’s the only way to hide from the calliope player.

“Ah, Cassie, my little darling.” He hears the deep, scratchy voice say, “It’s a bit early for you to be visiting me, but you’re presence is always a welcome one.”

Casaria stands still, refusing to back away from the sliding doors. His eyes are lowered, not willing to look at the man before him. Fingers trace his jawline, pressing deeply under his chin so he has to look up. The taller male isn’t ugly, quite the opposite with his lengthy onyx eyes, sharp nose and full lips, but the malevolent gleam in his eyes scares Casaria beyond belief. He smiles and it’s just as sadistic as the laugh that comes bubbling from his throat afterwards.

“Now, Cassie dearest, don’t look so forlorn. We’ve been doing this for quite some time now; you should learn to enjoy it.”

The aerial doesn’t answer, only stares back with those expressive eyes.

“Still refusing to speak, eh? That’s perfectly fine; I prefer your other noises anyways.”

*

“Casaria?! You don’t have to hide from me! I won’t hurt you! Casaria!” Donghae calls out to no avail.

The roust-about had been trying to find the aerial for the past half hour in the mindset that Casaria thought he’d be angry at him for watching. In reality, Donghae just wanted to talk and get to know the other better. He didn’t like that Casaria had no one to talk to besides the ring masters and a rather cynical clown. Donghae knew the ring masters weren’t pleasant company to have (they were rude and drunk the majority of the time) and though Sungmin was nice enough, his attitude towards life was a total downer. Casaria deserved to be surrounded by people that were as lovely and beautiful as he and though Donghae didn’t really fit those requirements, he knew he’d be a step up from the others.

“Will you shut up?” A car door slid open, revealing a small blonde with his hair slightly mussed, “I’m trying to sleep.”

“It’s not even eight yet, Sungmin.” Donghae laughed, “You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, well, I never claimed to be.” Sungmin sniffed, “What’s all the ruckus about?”

“I was looking for Casaria.”

“What’re you looking for him for? He’s busy; he doesn’t need to be bothered by you.”

“It didn’t seem like he was too busy when he was watching me play the calliope.” Donghae raised his eyebrow, challenging Sungmin.

“You must’ve been imagining the whole thing. Cas is with the ringmaster.”

“Which one?” Donghae asked.

“The ringmaster, the weekend one.”

Donghae furrowed his brows, displeased with the information he had just received. He knew Casaria tended to glue himself to the ringmasters’ sides – especially the weekday one, but that didn’t ease the uncomfortable feeling Donghae had towards that fact. Something about the man who ran the circus left him uneasy and he didn’t appreciate Casaria spending so much time with him.

“Oh.” Donghae frowned, “I wasn’t imagining it though. He was really there, doe eyes and all.” He scowled as Sungmin began to laugh at him, “I’m not kidding, Sungmin! I saw him!”

“Maybe our little Cas has a thing for the roust-about.” Sungmin giggled to himself, sliding his door closed, “Do me a favor and be quiet, huh? And don’t let the ringmasters find out about your little crush on Casaria or you’ll be killed.”

“Crush? What crush? I don’t have a crush on Casaria!” Donghae denied frantically, pouting deeply when Sungmin’s door slammed on his face.

The roust-about was in the midst of turning around and going back to his own car before he remembered something. He pounded on Sungmin’s pink doors, impatiently waiting for the older man to open them.

“What?” Sungmin hissed, finally sliding the door open a fraction. Only half of his face could be seen, but that didn’t do anything to lessen the amount of annoyance it held.

“I just wanted to ask you something. It won’t take long.” Donghae said, batting his eyelashes cutely.

Sungmin sighed, “Alright spit it out then.”

“What’s Casaria’s real name?”

“I knew you were going to ask this…” Sungmin rolled his eyes, “Look, I’ll tell you, but don’t ever call him by it unless he tells you otherwise, got it? I don’t even get to call him by his real name.”

“I won’t,” Donghae said eagerly, bouncing in his spot, “I swear I won’t.”

“Kyuhyun.” Sungmin whispered and closed the door on the roust-about’s dazed face.

He stood in front of Sungmin’s door for a minute longer, repeating the name inside his head until he made it to his blue car. Donghae slid the door open and closed it just as quickly, hopping into his creaking bed.

“Kyuhyun.” He repeated over and over, “Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun.”

It rolled off of his tongue more fluidly than Casaria, like it had found its home with Donghae. He said the name incessantly into the night, humming it like a lullaby.