《a million dreams [tgs klance au]》come alive (pt. 2)

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"Hello, Mrs. Holt," I said politely. My hat was in my hand, my fingers clutching the wide brim. The woman, a middle-aged mother with crow's-feet by her eyes and a tired expression, regarded me wearily.

"Mr. Shirogane. What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to see your daughter please." I paused, then added, "I'm a friend of hers."

Mrs. Holt look surprised and I wondered if she was more bemused by the fact that her daughter had a friend coming over or that the friend was me. "Katie?" she asked for confirmation. I nodded. Stepping aside from the doorway, she invited me in.

The inside of the house was filled with spare parts and electronics but, somehow, it was impeccably neat. The soft whir of technology, sporadically interrupted with beeps and blips, filled the air.

Mrs. Holt led me through the maze of devices to what looked like a kitchen. It reminded me of the Weasley kitchen in Harry Potter- busily in motion without the help of the residents of the house. But instead of magic, everything was part of what seemed like a giant Rube Goldberg chain-reaction contraption.

It was busy and crowded but seemed efficient as Mrs. Holt maneuvered through the levers of a machine that was placing plates in the dishwasher (which looked like it had been modified itself) and grabbed a steaming cup of coffee from yet another machine. It was gloriously digitized but looked like a fragile balance of systems that could crumble if you touched the wrong button.

I leaned against the wall and accepted the mug of coffee from Mrs. Holt. "Did Katie make this?" I wondered aloud.

"Parts of it," Mrs. Holt replied vaguely. "She and her brother are constantly adding and tweaking it, but it started off as a simple toast-butterer built by my husband when we moved here.

"Wow..." I said quietly.

Mrs. Holt crouched down to the floorboards of the kitchen and knocked three times. "Katie, come up here!" she called at the floor. I blinked, a little confused.

But then, beneath my feet, I heard the clamor and clash of something falling, then thudding footsteps. The floorboards just in front of Mrs. Holt shifted, then lifted in a seamless trapdoor and a fluffy poof of hazelnut hair popped out from the hatch. "Breakfast?"

Mrs. Holt shook her head and gestured towards me. The poof of hair turned and I recognized Katie under her work goggles and the smears of soot on her cheeks. She squinted, then tilted her head to the side curiously. "Who're you?" she asked bluntly.

"Katie!" Mrs. Holt chided lightly.

I held up a hand to her, excusing it.

"It's alright, Mrs. Holt."

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Katie was still expecting an answer. Slowly, I eased down to sit on the floor, leveling out our slope so I could look at the teenager head-on. "I have a job for you if you're interested."

Katie didn't seem to care.

"I want you to come perform in my show."

That seemed to be the turning point. Katie shrugged, "I'm a street performer."

I frowned. "You get maybe a buck an hour, kid."

"I get along just fine, thanks," she snapped snarkily. She reached up above her head and promptly closed the trapdoor. I leaned forward, clutching the coffee shop. Time for the persuasion.

"I see a girl- a woman, standing in the middle of the ring, surrounded by her amazing inventions. The crowd is cheering- they didn't know a street performer had so much talent. They'd seen her before but never like this. She's sensational. Her inventions and her mind are an inspiration to engineers and pilots alike."

I looked around the kitchen, trying to find something to spark her mind. "You're a toast-butterer right now, Katie," I tried lamely, "But you can be so much more."

I waited a few moments. Just as I was about to thank Mrs. Holt for the coffee and leave, the floorboards creaked. They lifted a few inches. Dark, intelligent eyes stared at me.

"You're not very good at being inspirational," came a muffled voice.

I shrugged, offering her a hopeful smile.

"My brother. I want him there too."

My smile slowly grew.

"If he's anywhere near as smart as you are, Katie, he's on board."

"Call me Pidge." The eyes crinkled at the edges. A smile. An agreement. My first performer.

...

From that day on, I worked tirelessly. Fuck the wax figures. Fuck the 'museum'. I was making a spectacle. I was making a beautiful, grotesque symphony of talent and wonder. I advertised on every available surface and by God, were people noticing now.

With the growing attention to Shirogane's strange invention, it was easy for me to recruit. My posters implored anyone with some talent or some oddity to come apply to perform. I offered wages that were meager at best but promised them raises with success.

First, it was Pidge (and her brother, Matt). Then, they were flooding in, each offering me something unique. There was an Australian redhead with five lions he'd rescued as cubs from a zoo, each as loyal and grand as the next.

Next, trapeze twins with dark, tanned skin and vibrant smiles with nimble limbs and enough sass to go around. A friendly, kind young man who made the best food in town but never quite got enough recognition for his coiling biceps that could break me like a toothpick.

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Zethrid and Ezor, the caretakers and ticket-sellers who were once so pessimistic, told me that we were already selling tickets for our first show. That sent our rehearsals and practices into a flurry of commotion- recruitment was over and I had an incredible crew of incredible abnormalism at my fingertips. It was a blur of action and I was living for the thrill of it.

The money from the tickets was rolling in and, for the first time in a long time, Adam and I went out to a nice restaurant together. He sat across the table from with a strange look in his eyes. "You amaze me, Shiro," he murmured and reached for my hand. My heart flew- finally, I was doing something right. Something good for us.

The night of the show was terrifying. My nerves were electrified with anxiety, but my determination made me put on a brave face. I had to for the sake of the performers. With the help of Ezor and Zethrid, I had transformed the museum into a performing stage. The main room was a circle, which gave me an advantage with the seating arrangements. All around the perimeter of the room, we set up bleachers with wooden benches and I was able to convert the second-floor balcony into a seating area as well.

For the stage itself, I created a giant inner circle of sand, with foot-high barriers surrounding it to contain the grains. I left a small opening in the back of the ring for entry and exit to and from the back room. Floor-to-ceiling velvet drapes obscured backstage from the audience and for a good thing too- it was a mess of props, makeup, costumes, and performers, all trying to get their own tasks done.

As I wove throughout my performers, offering words of advice, I noticed Hunk, the strongman, standing by the curtains, peeking out at the crowd that was slowly filing into the bleachers. Our patrons were loud and excited and I admired the sheer amount of them with wide eyes.

"Excited?" I asked.

He swallowed. I patted his back and moved on with my assurances and positivity. They all needed this- I knew they were all as nervous as I was, I just had to fake it.

Before I knew it, Ezor and Zethrid were beside me, telling me the last of the guests had arrived and that we were five minutes to showtime. Hunk was the first act. He was still standing by the curtain, a nervous expression deepening the lines of his face.

He turned to me as I approached. "I can't do this," he whispered urgently, tugging on the hem of his cutoff t-shirt. Sweat glistened on his tanned skin, but it wasn't from the summer heat.

"Why not?" I asked gently, patting his shoulder.

"You don't understand, Mr. Shiro, sir. I'm just a cook. Not a weightlifter. Those days were too long ago. No one will like it- they only see me as a chef."

I shook my head, laughing a little. "You can't be both?" I asked lightly. "Listen, Hunk. They don't know it yet, but they are gonna love you. Now go! You're gonna do great, buddy."

Hunk visibly steeled himself, took a deep breath, and then pushed through the curtain with no backward glances.

Hunk's act went perfectly, just as I knew it would. He was more than just a strongman- he had a sense of humor that had the crowd quite literally slapping their knees with laughter and had the biggest, sweetest smile on the planet. At the end of his act, people were shouting for more. He nearly crushed my ribs as he hugged me, laughter still rumbling in his chest.

Next were my contortionists, for a bit of a change of pace. Acxa and Veronica, two gorgeous young women who had met at the Garrison, had auditioned for my show when they realized that they wouldn't make it through next month's rent, practicing flexibility stunts day after day to perfect them. They wore checkered leotards and had smeared glitter over their faces and limbs as they bent their backs into positions that made my stomach twist.

After Acxa and Veronica came Coran, the Australian. He'd colored his five lions with (animal-safe) dye and the big cats stood out with red, yellow, green, blue, and black fur respectively. They jumped through hoops, balanced on their back paws, and caught bits of food midair. After each trick, they'd run back to Coran, purring and leaning against him affectionately.

Coran made sure to inform the crowd that he'd rescued the lions from a cruel zoo and to always make sure that any performing big cats were treated humanely before paying corporations. He was as dedicated to the cats as they were loyal and I felt my heart swell at the passion he had.

After Coran and his cats had left the stage, Allura and Lance, my glorious trapeze twins, swung down over the crowd, producing 'ooh's and 'ahh's from the awe-struck crowd. Allura walked slowly across a tightrope, somersaulting in the center, as Lance flipped and slid through the aerobic silks hanging from the ceiling. They were stunningly graceful and bedazzled in pink and blue sparkles, Lance's normally brown hair pinned beneath a pink wig.

There were a few more acts behind these, but at the end, we all did one last number together, and even I, as new and inexperienced as I am, made an entrance to introduce myself as the ringleader of the Greatest Show on Earth.

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