Shiro

The circus was decimated. I'd stayed through the night, doing whatever I could to help, but as the hours passed from late evening to dawn, the city quieted as the crowd dispersed to their homes.

I'd sent all of the performers home, save for Keith, who was in the hospital. I could only assume that Lance was still with him, for which I was thankful. I vowed to myself to go see him once all of this was sorted out.

But that was the problem- I had no idea what I was going to do. I hadn't realized the severity of my financial situation until I'd seen the reports on the Circus' finances. It had lost a lot of money anyways... I didn't know how I'd be able to rebuild, how I'd manage to keep the house, what on Earth I was supposed to do now, but I had the profits of Curtis' tour, which would hopefully cover it enough...

All through my life, I'd had my eyes set on the goal of being better, bigger, more successful. When my job at the Garrison hadn't worked out, I'd built the circus fro the ground up. I thought it would be enough.

But now, as it lay in smoldering heaps of rubble before me, all I could feel was a gaping hole in my heart and a sense of hopeless dread settling in my stomach. The fire was out, thank god it didn't spread along to the other buildings on the street, but it had demolished the building beyond hope of repair.

Sighing heavily, I sat down on one of the granite steps that still remained, my head in my hands. Just when I thought I was about to burst into tears, I heard footsteps crunching along the charred ground before me. Looking up, I froze.

Lotor Princeton did not wear a smile of triumph, but instead an expression that I didn't recognize. He ran his fingers through his stark white hair and sighed, brushing off the seat beside me with his newspaper, then thinking better of it and sitting on the paper instead.

"If you've come to torment me, Mr. Princeton, I'm afraid I've already done a pretty good job myself."

"I'd imagine so," the critic said politely, not looking at me. He looked out over the rubble, his lips pursed. "They caught the rioters who started the fire," he informed me. "I thought you'd like to know."

"The damage has already been done," I replied sourly. Lotor didn't answer, as eloquent and graceful as always.

The city was silent around us, unusual for a Sunday morning. All I could hear was the sound of birds singing and the wind in the trees.

"I never liked you, Mr. Shirogane. Or your show."

"I know that."

"However, I can't deny that the patrons who left this building," he gestured to the burnt and splintered wood around us, "seemed to enjoy it greatly. It may not have been my cup of tea, exactly, but... it was something the public enjoyed, which can override a critic's sharp tongue. Mind you, I wouldn't call it art, but putting folks of all kinds on stage with you... all colors, shapes, sizes, presenting them as equals... Another critic might have even called it 'a celebration of humanity'."

I looked up and met Lotor's eyes, confused. Was he actually... applauding the circus? "I would have liked that."

For a moment, we held eye contact, but then Lotor looked away, saying, "Well, I hope you'll rebuild."

I chuckled tiredly. "Yes, I hope so too. Thankfully, we'll be able to borrow off of Curtis' tour profits."

Lotor gave me a strange look. "You haven't heard?" He reached beneath him to grab the newspaper he'd been holding, unfolding it and handing it to me. It didn't take long for me to recognize the image, and then read the words below it.

There, on the front page, was a clearly defined photograph of Curtis kissing me onstage at the last performance. Below it read the words, "CURTIS QUITS! SHIROGANE SCANDAL!"

A million thoughts ran through my mind at that moment, but the most important was...

"Adam!" I shouted, running into the foyer, breathless. My heart was racing, both from panic and from running from the main square all the way to our home. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and looked up, my hat clenched in my hands.

Adam held Amelia in one arm and his suitcase in the other. He looked at me with an expression of unadulterated disappointment. Amelia was sound asleep, her angelic face peeking out from the blankets she was swaddled in. She was unaware of her parent's turmoil.

"Adam, c'mon, we can talk about this," I tried, reaching for his hand. He jerked out of my reach, eyebrows drawn together.

"What's there to talk about? The fact that you kissed another man?"

"Nothing happened!" I said indignantly, my hands shaking.

Adam scoffed. "Like hell, it didn't happen. It's on the front page of every newspaper in the state."

"I'm not in love with him!"

Adam's eyes flashed. "No, of course, you're not. Not with him, not with me, not with anything. Just you and your money and your validation, or whatever it was that made you leave in the first place."

"Adam," I tried again, desperate, searching for something to say to fix this. My eyes flicked to his suitcase again. "Where are you going?"

Adam breezed right past me, eyes set on the door. "I'm going home, Takashi."

"Home...? This is your home."

He turned, dropping his suitcase and digging a slip of paper out of his pocket, thrusting it into my hands. "No, it's not. The bank is evicting us."

"Then where are you-"

"My mother's."

That cut deep. That Adam would rather live with his homophobic, controlling mother than with me? Me, who actually cared about him? Me, who had done- who would do anything for him? I knew we were struggling now but...

"Takashi, I never minded the risk, but we did it together." He stepped back away from me, shaking his head. There were tears falling down his cheeks. "Goodbye."