“Watch your bed tonight, Lil,” he whispers into the shell of my ear as his fingers set off aftershocks down my spine when he glides them over the nape of my neck. “It’s what you wanted, right? To remind me that you could have me whenever you want?”
I swallow past the buildup of arousal that’s rising in my throat. “Maybe.” I brush my lips over his. “Or maybe it was to remind myself that I could.”
I swing my leg off him and hurry behind the curtain. I need to change quickly. I’ve gathered enough momentum tonight to figure out that I need to make my costume shifts fast, since the average act is around fifteen minutes, with the exception of The Brothers act, which goes on for closer to twenty.
By the time I’ve come up for air, I’m wearing tight red leather short-shorts and a matching cherry-red leather bra. My hair is in a mess of waves, crinkled and falling over my shoulders, and my clown makeup is a lot more smudged than how it started out. I like it this way. There’s a peaceful calm that comes from obstructing perfection.
Perse rips open one of the other smaller curtains that separates the backstage and the hallway to the rooms. She has a mic in her ear and is holding a clipboard. Her eyes fall up and down my body.
“Making sure I stick to the plan?” I ask her teasingly. I know she’s been anxious about me. I’ve picked it up for the most part. Truthfully, I don’t think she likes me much. I’m just not sure if she knows I don’t care.
“Yes,” she snipes back at me, her dark red brows curving in as she reads off the piece of paper. “Sass’s scene is next. You’re going to incorporate the coffin with the fire?”
I nod. “Yes. I’m pretty sure we can do it. If anything, we can trial it.”
She points to the crowd and sighs. “Okay. Just go ahead, and so long as you don’t kill anyone, we will be fine.”
I’m watching as the curtain shifts back into place.
I stand from my chair, pausing when I truly look at myself in the mirror.
This is the dollhouse I built…
This is the dollhouse he bought…
This is the dollhouse that burns to a crisp…
I brushed the hair of one of my dolls, blinking slowly and watching rain slap against my window. There was a light knock on my door, and I twisted to look over my shoulder to see who it was. I knew there wasn’t a show on tonight, and I was far too experienced to need training.
I did my training. A lot of it.
“I can’t sleep.” She took the steps into my room like she did most nights, closing the door behind herself.
I smiled at her but went straight back to the rain. There was something calming in the way Mother Nature would explode every now and then, as if to remind humans exactly who was in charge. Angry wind continued to blow through the night until fallen leaves and twigs littered the ground.
“I’ll be in in a second.” I didn’t need to see what she was doing to know that she had slid into my bed.
I knew she removed her clothes before doing it, too.
And I knew that I would keep her secret until the day death stole my last breath.
My shoulders rise and fall as I take in deep breaths. The joint scene with Saskia didn’t take much effort—I was more a prop in her scene—but this is something else. I think I might need to stop smoking. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline that constantly ripples through my veins, I know I’d be fatigued more than I am right now.
I take three pulls up the rope until my hand clasps around a metal pole that sits horizontal to two other ropes hanging from the ceiling. Heaving my body up onto the swing, I hold on to each rope, flinging my legs out and back in again, until I gain large enough momentum. The spotlight beams up at me and the crowd silences.
A haunting nursery-style tune starts playing as I whisper off into the mic…
“There used to be three, but then there were four…
Who was that, that keeps knocking on my door?”
My mouth curves into a smirk, my eyes connecting to the entryway where Kyrin is standing shirtless in the same ripped jeans. He’s holding his helmet in one hand and leaning against a pole with his other. “Was it a ghost? Was it a ghoul? Or was it the big bad wolf, who came to—” I keep my eyes on Kyrin. “Eat. Us. All.”
He nudges his head and I push off the swing, slipping from the seat and catching my fall by gripping the pole. A round of gasps sounds through the air as if I was about to fall. It’s a ways up and I definitely don’t want to, but Midnight Mayhem being Midnight Mayhem, we don’t wear any safety equipment. According to Perse, if you need safety equipment, you shouldn’t be here. Which is fine. I run off adrenaline, so it helps.