The next few weeks past in a blur, shows every other night as usual, nothing particularly extraordinary happening. Phillip quickly became old news, the papers moving on to the next big scandal rather quickly. He was still shouted down in the streets, sometimes even attacked, and so Barnum himself had taken to accompanying him as he walked to and from the circus and the small flat that the ringmaster had rented for Phillip to stay in, until he could find more suitable accommodation.

Phillip thought about his parents each night as he fell asleep, touching the healing bruises that his father had left, tracing the cut below his eye that, over the last couple of weeks, had become apparent that it was going to scar. Often he cried into his pillow at night.

The only thought that kept him from sinking into despair was that of P.T.. The showman would appear at the door every morning at nine o'clock sharp, smiling. Phillip would smile back, and they'd walked out into the streets, making their way to the circus, where the troupe would often be waiting. The circus family would catcall the two, tease them, and on days when Phillip felt fragile, Barnum would squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, or flash him a friendly smile. This routine suited everyone just perfectly.

It was coming up to Barnum's fiftieth show, and the atmosphere of excitement in the circus was infectious. They were planning bigger tricks, bigger bangs, bigger everything, pulling out all the stops to make this show a night to remember.

Phillip, as usual, was making the routine safety checks; the ropes, the animals, the equipment, et cetera, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. It was Anne. She motioned for Phillip to follow her, and bewildered and confused, he did.

She lead him to an unoccupied corner of the room, and looked around quickly to make sure no one was observing them.

"Philip, you need to talk to Barnum," she said. Phillip saw real concern in her eyes. He furrowed his brow.

"Why? What's going on?"

Anne lowered her voice. "The divorce papers were signed last week and he's been down ever since."

Phillip thought back over the last week. She did have a point... the ringmaster had been acting less energetic than usual.

"You're the only one close enough to him to help." Phillip opened his mouth to protest but Anne shot him a glare. "You are, Phillip. I know that hearing about his marriage troubles must be hard, since you're virtually in love with him-"

"I'm not in love with him," Phillip said loudly, then blushed, looking around in embarrassment.

Anne gave him a wry smile and raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not!" Phillip huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm not... but I will try and talk to him."

Anne perked up. "Thanks, Phillip," she was obviously relieved. "He's been worrying all of us." She bounced off the find W.D..

Phillip sighed, and started towards the office.

When he walked in, P.T. was helping Charles adjust his new uniform (after so many shows, the old one was looking tired and dog eared). Phillip caught Barnum's eye and gestured for him to hurry up. The ringmaster nodded and smiled at Charles.

"There you go, General Tom, good as new!"

Charles grinned and saluted, and Barnum saluted back. The small soldier left the office and Barnum strode over to Phillip.

"And what can I do for you, my junior partner?" He seemed cheerful enough, but Phillip knew something was praying on his mind.

"Uh, actually P.T., this isn't about the show," Phillip said. Barnum's face dropped for a second, but he regained his composure. Phillip cleared his throat and continued. "The whole troupe is worried about you. You've been acting... down since the di- since last week."

P.T. frowned a bit. "I really don't think that's any of your concern, Phillip," he said coldly. "I am perfectly fine, and what's going on in my personal life will have no impact upon the show tonight, trust me."

"I- I know, Phin, we're just worried about you. This isn't about the show, we want to know that you're okay," Phillip said.

Phineas's face softened and he seemed to give in. "I know... I know," he sighed. "It's stressful, you know? I can only see my girls once a week, and I'm so busy with the circus that I'm worried I won't have time for them, I just-"

"Does Mr. Barnum need a hug?" Phillip asked cheekily. Barnum looked astonished, then amused.

"Yes, I rather think I do," Barnum paused, a glint of mischief surfacing in his eyes. "Who should I ask, though? It's hardly professional to hug your employees-"

"Shut up, you bastard," Phillip said fondly, leaning in to the showman's chest, letting Phineas hug him. Phillip shut his eyes and breathed in P.T.'s familiar smell, enjoying the contact and show of affection.

It only lasted a minute, however, as Lettie banged on the window, making both men jump.

"Oi! You two! Stop with the love fest and help us out here! The bloody horse has escaped!" She yelled.

Phillip and Phineas grinned at each other and rushed out. The shenanigans of the circus were never over.