Breathe in, breathe out. Instead, he wheezed. Come on, you can do better than that. Trying again, he took a lungful of air, and exhaled slowly and deliberately. That was better. He'd give himself a once-over in the mirror in his office before he went to join the guys downstairs, but he knew he looked like crap. There wasn't really anything he could do about that until the fever passed.

A hand banged on the door. He winced. "Hey, Barnum, show's starting in five. You coming?" It was Lettie.

He rubbed his temples and sighed under his breath. "Yeah, give me a second. I'll be there." A wave of chills swept through his body. The extra undershirt he'd thrown on earlier did not serve the purpose he intended, and therefore was useless. Swiping a hand across the nape of his neck, he realized he was sweating even though goosebumps had splattered across his entire body. The sweat wasn't profuse, though, but enough to put an end to any doubt he could've had. Yeah, he was sick.

Anne was the first person he ran into. Quite literally, actually. The lights were just so bright, he thought he'd only closed his eyes for a second on his way backstage. Then he shoulder checked a smaller, more delicate figure.

His immediate response was a thousand apologies and a frantic "Are you alright?"

Anne laughed until she realized his words were slurred and his eyes were droopy. "You don't look so good. Are you feeling okay?"

He nodded, bringing an elbow to his face to cough. "Excuse me. Yes, I'm quite alright. We should be off to take our places," he suggested in an attempt to change the topic. This show had brought in a large crowd, which meant a lot of money bought a lot of tickets. They couldn't afford to cancel tonight. Phillip was out of town for the weekend looking into travel expenses for the next tour, so there wasn't anyone else he could pass the torch to for the time being.

With everyone in their proper place behind the curtains, the lights faded. Barnum found that it complimented his raging headache quite nicely. It didn't last too long though, the audience buzzed with hushed whispers, and then the curtains opened.

Harsh, blinding lights that sent stabbing pains through his head overwhelmed his vision. The blaring music felt as if stakes were being driven through his ears. But he did what he did best, and pushed it all down to perform. He could practically close his eyes and complete the choreography without a fault or bumping into anyone, so that's what he did most of the song. It did nothing for his headache, but he wasn't as overwhelmed. His movements were sluggish but at least they were correct. As for his singing, he was amazed his voice lasted so long. Of course, the rest of his people singing with him did help drown out however scratchy and painful his voice sounded.

The finale couldn't come soon enough. He threw his trembling arms up as the rest of the troupe posed around him. The audience exploded in applause and hollers, which also resulted in his head exploding. He swayed on his feet with tears flooding in his eyes. Then the lights finally shut off, leaving them in darkness. It was okay. He could put his facade away.

In a wave of dizziness, he threw a hand out to steady himself. It just so happened to land on Lettie's shoulder. "Ah, sorry, Lettie." His own words vibrated throughout his skull. He winced and pulled away. He was hardly aware of his feet pulling him out of the ring, away from Lettie's questions of concern, to his office.

The room was dark and quiet. When he slumped into the corner, curling into himself, he welcomed the darkness that pulled at his mind.