"Okay, can we talk about the creepy old dude and his circus?" — A Dread & Circuses Revival
Icky Tells All
"Okay, can we talk about the creepy old dude and his circus?"
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"—so many people remember Herman Fuller, and how much he—"
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"Can you believe that he ran his circus for decades? Even after his death…"
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"—can't believe anything a carnie says, they're just greedy!"
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"—people died, all the time! I'm so glad we're finally talking about the drama."
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"Herman Fulle—"
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"The ringmaster, Herman Fu—"
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"Herm—"
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"—man Fuller's legacy cannot be forgotten."
A phone, much like a pig, does not fly by itself; a trapeze artist knows this, as does any person with a degree of familiarity with phones. Nevertheless, said cellphone sailed through the air, crashing into the wall with force, the screen cracking on impact — the culprit?
A woman, sitting lounged in a set of striped red and white pajamas, glaring at her phone. She had long, wavy black hair, a pale complexion, and a look that said destroying her phone wasn't enough violence for the day. She threw her head back, screaming into her own apartment, the muffled cries of frustration filling the space.
"—you fucking kidding me? Still? I work my ass off, streaming every fucking week — and that murderous asshole is still trending?"
She looked around for something else to throw, and went to grab a desk lamp — only to find it had been bolted to the desk. Right. We did that after I broke the last one.
She looked around her room — it was full of streaming equipment, headphones, lights, and anything else that she would need on a given livestream. She couldn't throw that, it was her livelihood. Right?
Like that's stopped me before, she mused as she grabbed a red makeup sponge, throwing it against the wall — it barely made it halfway across the room before slowly drifting to the ground, flatly, like a deflated balloon.
"I just—" she rambled to none but herself, "why is everybody still obsessed over him? Hermie? He's so old he's an archeological find; what about the rest of us? It's fine streaming to like…the same three weirdos, but sometimes I just wish that things could be bigger. Like, why couldn't I get that attention? Is he really all that people…"
But of course, she knew that was the case. It didn't matter that he had been gone for years, nor that he had caused the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands, all in the pursuit of 'entertainment'. It didn't matter that she was the ringmaster after him — hell, it didn't even matter that the Circus itself had shut down! No matter what, the crowds couldn't seem to get enough of 'Herman Fuller, the master of entertainment'.
"More like master—" she started, before frowning, and shaking her head. Too easy. Come on, Icky, you're better than this! Whatever happened to the clown that everybody flocked from all around all 64 corners of the globe to come see?
Icky looked at her reflection in the mirror; an unfamiliar identity stared back. No grease paint, no red nose, nothing; she was a normal woman, maybe a few crow's feet and some bags under her eyes, but — she wasn't 'Icky the Magic Clown'. No, now she was 'Vee, variety streamer extraordinaire' — whatever that was worth.
Every day, Vee would sit down in the same chair, talk to the same viewers, play the same games and make the same jokes. Every day, she would get up, dream of something magical, and remind herself that things were different now. She would remind herself that there were bills to pay, and responsibilities — and the few pieces of Icky left were pushed to the side.
Without the Circus, what's the point of Icky? Vee joked, unlocking her computer and navigating to her socials. But if everybody is talking about the Circus right now… why not bring her back for a bit?
Hey there Vee-Viewers! Not many of you may know this, but I was once the Ringmaster for Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting! Everybody and their mother is talking about it right now — I decided, fuck it! If you want the inside scoop, and to find out all of Fuller's dirty secrets, join me tomorrow as I stream a Q&A about my time in the Circus of the Disquieting. Just be ready, I'm going to spill everything.
There, she thought, pressing send. Now I can finally tell the truth. Tomorrow.
She needed something to change, anything — and if it didn't happen soon, Vee would need to accept the truth and bury another dead career.
What the fuck am I doing?
cybergirl2003: are u singel?
This was a mistake.
"Great question, 'cybergirl2003', but I'm not! I've got a gorgeous girlfriend — of course, she would never come on stream. She's not a performer, not like I am!"
RedNozeBozo: omg what face paint do u use
This is stupid.
Of course, in her heart of hearts, Vee knew that things were always going to go poorly — she barely had more than a few hundred subscribers. Who would want to ask her questions? And, of course, of the few who showed up to ask questions, the things they asked were meaningless, empty, and not at all on topic. Such is the life of a former clown: everybody is laughing, just at her expense.
Thankfully, her face still remembered exactly how to hide that.
"Hi RedNozeBozo, thanks for the question! I use my own custom blend, nothing else really compares in coverage, you know?"
Vee looked at her stream cam, and for a split-second, didn't recognize herself. Most days, she rarely did more than a bit of subtle make-up — in no way could her appearance today be called subtle. The grease-paint white skin, red button nose, everything screamed clown — in fact, if not for her standard background, it was almost as if she was staring into a portal to the past.
For a second, she was Icky again.
"What?" Icky yelled, bouncing off the walls in a manufactured state of hyperactivity. "What do you mean 'this is going to be our last show', huh Manny? Didn't I tell you to knock that off?"
The man with the upside-down face frowned — Icky laughed immediately.
"See! There's your sense of humor, Manny, you're smiling!"
"Veroni—"
"Manny, for the trillionth time, it's—"
"Icky, yes, yes." As Manny acquiesced, Icky dropped the comically oversized hammer, falling to the ground with a dull thud. "Unfortunately, Icky, your feelings are unable to change the truth; you know as well as I do that since Fuller's… 'absence', we've done our best to keep things together, but…"
"But what?"
Manny stared at Icky, as if searching for something inscrutable, grasping at a memory that would not solidify. He closed his eyes, looking down.
"But aren't you tired?" he asked, refusing to meet her eyes.
"Sure, I'm exhausted," Icky said in a somber, non-descript voice. "What do you want me to do? Starve? Manny, we have to keep trying, if only for—"
"Fine, Veronica." Manny looked up, staring Icky down, a coldness within. "You can continue to try, but tonight will be my final show."
Without another word, the man with the upside-down face left her tent. Icky was alone with her thoughts; that was a dangerous place to be.
But, of course, all danger is relative.
The show was a disaster. After that night, The Circus of the Disquieting was quiet, permanently.
Vee still had nightmares about the burning tent coming down around her, the guests fleeing in terror, the smell of burning acrid flesh mixing with saccharine sweet cotton candy and popcorn — and her, standing in the middle of the big top, watching her entire world fall apart.
fullerFan92: omg are you mrs. fuller???
Who the fuck do they think they are? Vee thought as a new chat message pulled her back to present day.
"I'm sorry, can you ask that again?" Vee said, a false smile clinging on for dear life.
fullerFan92: You said that you used to work at the circus of the disquieting, right?
"I did! I was actually the ringmaster bac—"
fullerFan92: bullshit
fullerFan92: Herman Fuller did everything!
fullerFan92: You're trying to take his credit, what are you, his wife?
"Are you fucking kidding me? You thought I was in a straight marriage, to that fucking lunatic? No! I was not marrie—" Vee paused, catching her breath. Think about this Vee. Do you want to let him win, again, or… why can't it be my turn?
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and took a second. She imagined the big top, pristine, like nothing had happened; the roars of the crowd, the smells and sounds dazzling the senses. The lights, the laughter, but most of all, the family.
Her family.
"Actually, not a lot of people know this!" Vee said, blending her natural voice with the Icky persona. "But Herman Fuller? He fucking died." Her clown nose went 'honka-honka' as she squeezed it, a morbid punchline cast into the digital abyss.
Chat fucking loved it.
susblueman: omg im ded
abrockwell03: lmao rip herman
fullerFan92: What? When?
"When did he die, 'fullerFan92'? Welcome to 2025, first off — the future is pretty fucking bad, if I'm being honest. He died way back in…" As Vee joked, she began to count on her fingers, before ending with just her middle finger showing. "Over a decade ago. Good riddance. You know, he used to think he was immortal? The idiot, he would walk around talking about how 'the circus would live forever', and how the 'world would never forget him' — do you know how many people asked me if I used to be Herman? Yeah! People thought that I was a transgender fucking Herman Fuller — frankly, I was insulted."
Vee watched as the viewer count ticked up, higher and higher — higher than it had ever been. Is this what people want now? Drama, centered around an abusive monster? Vee thought morbidly. Is entertainment really just schadenfreude, wrapped up with a fucking bow and cute girl telling you all about it? Do we just want to hear about bad things? Is that all people cared about?
Vee was terrified that it was still true, or, maybe it always had been. She thought back to the Circus — and realized nothing had changed.
Back when I was the ringmaster, she worried, frowning, I tried to fix things, right? Like, obviously I didn't fucking kill and abuse the freaks like he did — and I was better at running the circus, right? Well… was I? He wasn't in change, but, it… fuck, it really was the same. We had the same acts, we made the same choices — fuck, we didn't even bother to change the name!
The realization stung, hard.
I didn't even try, she realized. I was the same fucking harlequin, making the same jokes; unless it was about the audience, I didn't even give a shit. I was so fucking jealous of how popular he was as ringmaster, I… I lost sight of everything else.
She had tried to grow up, to start streaming, to move on from the traumas back then, but, maybe nothing had changed. Nothing at all.
Fine, Vee thought, looking at the clown staring back at her. I can play his game, I know the rules.
"Okay, you know what?" Vee said, leaning in conspiratorially close to her webcam. "Do you guys want me to tell you everything? All of the dirty, dark secrets that were hidden under the red and white veneer?"
Chat was moving too fast for Vee to read it — that had never happened before. Luckily, if there was one thing Vee had going for her, it was her silver tongue — her girlfriend complimented her on it all the time.
"Okay, clearly you do! So where to start… oh, let me reintroduce myself!"
Vee stepped a few feet back from her camera, and stuck a pose, one that felt like a familiar pair of jeans — for the first time in nearly a decade, she felt alive again.
"Hello everybody! I am your Ringmistress of the evening, the Clown Queen of Entertainment, a Master of Multiple Languages, especially love — I am Ic—" Vee stuttered, faltering for a second, before recovering her flow. "Sorry about that everybody, clown brain. I'm Veronica, but you can call me 'Vee' — I used to be the ringmaster at Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting ever since ol' Hermie died, all the way up to the final show. And that show, what a hot topic!"
Though they were around the world, and hidden behind silica-carbonate windows, Veronica could feel that all eyes were on her. She had missed this feeling.
"Where should we start? Hmm? Let me see what chat wants to know."
It was a bit of a flurry, but in the mess, Vee saw people continually asking about the magic.
"That's a good place to start. I'm seeing a lot of people asking 'oh, was the circus real? Did somebody actually eat a car? Was there literal magic?' Do you fucking hear yourselves?" Vee paused, laughing uncontrollably on the inside. "No, there was no fucking magic, it was a show! Do you really think we could just roll around, magic clowns and reality breaking freaks, just… living? I'm pretty sure that there are like… foundations dedicated to stopping that kind of stuff?"
God, Vee thought, I forgot just how fun it was to fuck with rubes. Plus, this way Essie stays off of my back.
"No magic, no aliens — just a magic act. Not literal ghosts, just Pepper's. We were all people, all of us who worked there. Friends, coworkers, lovers, weirdos, comrades — we were a family. Well, most of us were a family. Herman never really liked to 'slum it' with the rest of us carnies and freaks — no, he would always remind us that he was above us, better than us. He even made sure we remembered too, by the bruises and nightmares he left behind. He never wanted to be our family, he just wanted us to respect him, like a father."
Vee honked a horn from off-camera.
"Some fucking dad he was, huh?" she laughed, burying the trauma from years ago. "What else do you wanna know, chat? Oh! That's a good one."
Enough fucking around, Vee thought, time to clear up Fuller's lies…
Vee rolled her chair back, dramatically throwing her hands down to her sides, grabbing the arm rests.
"You guys were asking about it, but there used to be rumors that the Circus had evil magic — again, I already told you that wasn't real, but apparently that's not enough. So one rumor, and this was… come on guys, seriously? People used to say that we had a way of turning humans into clowns — and get this, clowns were aliens! Or something."
Vee scratched her head. "To be honest, I never really got the specifics there, but people used to talk about the clowns like they were a whole other species; yeah, you heard me right. People thought that our clowns specifically were these fucked up freaks from another world? Okay, first off — why the fuck would they look like clowns? Secondly, how the fuck do you think it would work — turning a human into a clown, permanently? Do you… do you really think that my nose is… part of me?"
Vee dramatically began to inch her hand towards her nose, hesitating — in a rush, she dashed her hand forward, ripping the red nose off, showing her normal one underneath.
"Oh god, I just— see? All fake," Veronica said, honking her nose and laughing. "Humans into fucking clowns. Wow."
Vee pulled herself back to her desk and continued scrolling through chat.
"What else, what else… oh! Here's a 'good' one, finger quotes implied. 'tfkJupiter' asks 'was it true that clowns had to be milked or they would explode?' And to you, I again say, what the fuck?"
Vee put her hands over her mouth in mock horror, sharply inhaling.
"I just explained this. The clowns are just normal fucking people — now, tell me. Remind me on this one, chat, but… do humans need to be fucking milked? Do humans explode if they aren't milked? Did you really need me to answer this question, or did you just hope that it might be real? If so, gross."
Vee rolled her eyes and kept watching the massive influx of new subscribers continue to pour in; in one day, she had more concurrent viewers than she had total subscribers. It was almost as if the rest of her streaming career meant nothing. She frowned, as the same realization hit her, one that had lodged itself into her noggin years ago — the world loves to laugh at a clown, and she was great at her job.
But, of course, there was a show going on, and Vee had an audience to entertain.
"Okay, next question — here, an easy one. I've seen a lot of you asking this, so let me answer it. 'Did people die?' Yes. Yes, lots of people fucking died, it was disgusting. Herman didn't believe in safety equipment, one time he thought OSHA was just a freak mispronouncing 'ocean' — if there was money to be made, he didn't care if the cost was our labor, or our deaths. Either way, he made money, and that was all he cared about. We were just fuel for the circus machine; not people. Not things with families, lives, dreams, no — to Herman Fuller, we were just fodder. A product, for him to sell."
Vee sneered.
"Even his audience; do you know, he didn't care what happened after you had bought a ticket? Our answer for missing kids was 'what kid', his refund policy was for us to leave or to kick them out — if an accident happened, he would pay off the police, do whatever he could to bury that, pretending as if those people had never existed. Most died, and the few who would survive would be so disfigured that they'd have 'no choice' but to join his Circus of the Disquieting. For every 3 'willing' carnies, there was one who was there because they had nowhere else to go. Townies, forgotten and believed dead, chewed up and spit out by the gears of the funny machine we called the Circus. If they survived, anyways."
Veronica realized how morbid she had gotten, saw the outpouring of support and sympathy in chat. If anything, the more depressed she got, the more the audience cared; she had never really understood the appeal of a sad clown, but now she thought that she could at least guess.
There is a joy in seeing pain in another, Vee worried. Is this my fate now?
Stuck, streaming to an audience of vultures, all clawing for a scrap of drama or trauma — half-truths and pointless jokes, performing for an empty stage, the audience around the world, intimately close, but impossibly far away. Was that enough for her?
Or, she dreamed, do I just wish I could be back at the circus, even with how much I hated it? After all of these rants, is the truth really that I will do anything for an audience? Has nothing changed?
A chime caught her attention — somebody had donated $100 to her, through the gifting system, setting off a notification and putting the message squarely in the center of her stream. It read:
Upside-DownFrown: I have a question. Do you have time for an old friend?
No, no, that's… Vee couldn't believe it. In fact, she wouldn't let herself get her hopes up: in the years since the Circus had burned down, every tall man she had seen, for a second, she would hope that it was Manny. She waited each time, for them to spin back around, their face inverted — they were frowning, in her dreams, but of course, Vee knew. She knew that when Manny smiled, it looked like a frown.
In fact, she used to call it his 'upside-down frown'.
"Hey everybody, I uhhh… sorry, talking about that just pulled up some weird emotions. I think… sorry, I think that's all the time I have for questions today? But, to all of my new subscribers, welcome to the Vee-team! I'll be back on Monday for my standard stream, so I'll see you all there!"
A few clicks, and her stream had ended — as soon as the camera was off, her demeanor flipped on a dime, the false joy plastered on top, dropping off of her face like stucco on the wall in a house under renovation. Somebody is just fucking with me, right? Manny wouldn't watch streams, he barely read the paper!
But what if it was him?
A notification on screen caught her eye — a direct message from 'Upside-DownFrown'. It had a phone number, and that was it.
Veronica had no idea what to do next.
Vee stood in her kitchen, lazily watching a pot of pasta boil over; she could have done something to stop that, but it was more fun watching. If there was a way that Vee could make a chore more entertaining, she would take it every time. When she was making pasta, she liked to hear the water bubble over the edge of the pot, simmering as it slid down the sides, the rapid popping like laughter or applause.
What the hell is wrong with you? Vee thought, staring at the overflowing pot. This isn't what adults do. This isn't what real people do. This is what insane people do, and I'm pretty sure that I'm not crazy? At least, not anymore. Did I used to be? Oh, entirely, but — come on, I was a fucking clo—
Vee froze the instant she heard her front door knob begin to turn — her bubbling bemusement forgotten in seconds. She ran to the door, a golden retriever sprinting to see what was making the noise; as it opened, Vee squealed in excitement and threw herself at the figure — a slender woman, wearing business formal, the classic blouse and pencil skirt combo, carrying a laptop bag.
"Oh my god! I missed you!" Vee yelled, latching onto her. "How was your day?"
"Same as it always is," the woman said, shaking her head and trying to close the door; something made much more difficult by Vee, clinging onto her leg and refusing to let go. "I've been gone for eight hours, Vee. Don't you think this is a little extreme?"
Vee paused, thinking for less than a split second. "Nope!" she decided. "Not at all!"
"Did something happen during your stream today?" the woman asked, her face screaming 'doubt'.
"What?" Vee said, awkwardly scratching her head. "Lola, I don't know what yo—"
"Right." Lola shook her leg, harder and harder until Vee had to let go, dropping to the floor in a satisfying 'thud'. "You were doing the special AMA stream today, right?"
Lola walked into the kitchen, Vee scrambling behind her on all fours — when you spent a decade performing, it's a hard habit to kick.
"What's for dinner?" Lola asked, knowing full well what the answer was.
"I started boiling some pasta, but…"
"You only got that far?" Lola cocked a hip to the side, rolling her eyes, as Vee hopped up onto the kitchen counter nearby.
"You know it, babe." Vee pulled Lola close, and wrapped her legs around her, kissing softly. After a beat, Lola pulled away.
"Come on, I'm hungry and I need to finish dinner," Lola said, trying to salvage the perilous pasta Vee had started. She added some ingredient to a pan, and began to stir absentmindedly. "So how did the stream go?"
"Good, I think?"
"You think?"
"Listen," Vee said, "I don't know. I think it was bad, but… whatever? I mean like… I had a lot of viewers? So that was nice."
"How many?" Lola asked, deftly mincing an onion and garlic.
"Uhh… like a couple thousand? I think?"
"Babe," Lola said, pausing mid cooking to turn around and give Vee an unimpressed look. "How, in any possible way, could that be a 'bad' stream?"
"I don't know!" Vee replied, emotion pouring into her voice. "It just…. it got a bit weird and wasn't like my usual streams?"
"Mhm," Lola responded, her focus having returned to cooking — taking the cue, Vee continued to ramble.
"Okay so, like… it was fine? I guess? I think I might have gone a bit far?"
"What did you talk about?"
"The Circus."
Lola stopped cutting instantly, freezing. "What about the Circus?"
"I just…" Vee said, trailing off and biting her finger nails. "Okay, so you know how Hermie is fucking blowing up on social media, even though he's dead? And I just… fuck babe, I got tired of streaming to nobody, waiting to be heard. So, maybe I went a bit off the rails and aired some dirty laundry…"
"How dirty?" Lola said, laughing lightly and returning to her task at hand.
"Well," Vee said, looking down. "I might have told everybody about how the clowns were just people and complained about what a piece of shit Fuller was, and…"
"And people liked that?" Lola asked curiously, straining the pasta water and adding a splash to her pan.
"Oh, they fucking loved it," Vee said, cackling.
"I mean, it sounds like a pretty good stream? So what else happened?"
"I don't know what you—"
Vee couldn't finish her sentence before Lola had turned around, wooden spoon in hand, deeply unimpressed. She tapped it in her hand lightly, as Vee blushed, thinking of their last weekend trip away.
"Okay, fine." Vee hopped off the counter, grabbed her cracked phone, and showed Lola the mysterious donation message. "I got this message, and I don't know wha—"
"It's Manny," Lola said, deadpan. "Why didn't you tell me about that as soon as I got in?"
"I mean, do we know if it's Ma—"
Lola stared blankly. "It's Manny."
"Okay fine, I just… what should I do about this? You know that I was done with the circus, but after today…"
"You miss it?" Lola asked, gentle sympathy radiating off of her body.
"Yeah," Vee squeaked.
"Me too."
The couple stood in silence, as Lola plated their dinner. When food was ready, she held the two plates, giving Vee a knowing stare.
"So?" Vee asked, playing dumb.
"Veronica."
"Lolita."
Lolita stared back, unimpressed. She quirked a single eyebrow, inviting Vee to continue her buffoonery; and for tonight, Vee was done. Probably.
"You're going to—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll message him back and set up a time to meet up."
"Good girl," Lola said with a teasing smile. "Let's go eat, huh?"
If Veronica only ever did one thing for the rest of her life, she decided, it would definitely be listening to her girlfriend, Lolita. After all, she was the more serious of the pair.
The couple walked down the cobble streets, the brisk fall air chilling them. It was 12:55pm, and they had promised to meet any time after 1 — Vee had almost missed their last bus, and was nearly sprinting to make up for 'lost time'.
No matter how much Lola reminded her that it was any time after 1pm, Vee did not slow down.
She hasn't been this driven in a while, Lola thought, watching as Vee checked her cracked phone for directions. She was wearing a short, flared skirt, thigh-high black socks, a red crop-top paired with a borrowed leather motorcycle jacket — she looked dangerous, and energetic; just the way Lolita remembered Vee at her best.
She had loved her for decades, through everything. She first fell for her, watching her at the center of the big top, the stars filling her eyes. Her love only grew, in the wake of the fire, seeing the phoenix rise from those ashes, refusing to lose that spark of wonder — and watching Vee fight against the digital ocean, scraping and clawing her way to a small, but loyal following, and her determination to be watched once again; if anything, it told Lola one thing.
Vee is an entertainer, Lola thought, watching Vee animatedly walking down the rocky, uneven streets. And she deserves an audience. She always has.
"Where are we going again?" Lola asked, at a corner, as Vee consulted her phone.
"Great question!" Vee said, shrugging.
"You don't know?" Lola said, lightly exasperated, but mostly just used to this by now.
"Well," Veronica replied, holding out her hand. "I had suggested a café, you know, becaus—"
"Because I need my coffee," Lola finished.
"Exactly!" Vee said, while she looked around for something — they must be close.
"Anyways," Vee continued, "Manny refused. Hun, he called me boring. Me!"
"You?" Lola responded in mock outrage.
"I know! So anyways, he sent me a new address, and that's where we're going."
"Did you…" Lola started, breathing deeply. "Did you look it up?"
"Nope!"
"So… we have no idea where we're going?"
"That's not true," Vee said emphatically. "I mapped it!"
"Yes, but," Lola said, spelling it out for her. "Do you know anything else?"
"Nope, it's going to be a surprise for both of us!" Vee laughed, carried by the fall winds, echoing into the empty streets. It was a sound that Lola loved.
Thank god, Lola thought, smiling. It would really suck if I didn't love her.
Their destination, apparently, was the 'Stars Below Bowling Lanes' — when they arrived, Lola demanded that Vee check. Why would Manny want to go bowling? But, yep, this was the right place — the girls entered, confused.
They walked in, and like a time machine, they were thrown back. The smells hit them first; hot dogs, freshly warmed, turning on rollers mixed with the familiar scent of stale popcorn. There were, of course, infinitely more strange smells — that too was oddly comforting. The sounds were cacophonous, the sounds of balls hitting pins mixed with loud 90s radio hits; the chaotic soundscape felt like home to them, sans the uproarious laughter and applause.
The bowling alley wasn't that busy — of course, midday on a Sunday should have been busier, but, instead of screaming children, there were only regulars, a handful of few who turned, and stared warily. The worker at the shoe counter also looked unenthused by their presence.
No wonder they aren't busier, Lola joked to herself. "Do you see Manny?" she asked, scanning the lanes.
It should have been easy; in the past, Manny stuck out, easy to find in a crowd. After all, not many people had an inverted face — and few could compare to Manny's stature. And yet, all of the faces glaring back at them were the right side up.
"No," Vee said, checking her phone. "He didn't give me any details either."
The two continued to look down the lanes, finally arriving at one — there, a man stood, calmly facing down the bowling lane. He had a sparkling purple and red ball, seeming to swirl under his hands — the hand holding the ball was wearing a sleek glove, stylish and decorated with stars. He wore a bowling shirt, a team name on the back; 'The Bowling Ballendas', embroidered in the center.
He looked down the lane, perfectly calm and collected; suddenly, he started to move, a hulking figure gliding weightlessly down the lane. Sliding, he threw the spiraling ball like it was an art; twisting and spinning down the lane, getting faster, Lola was nearly hypnotized.
Strike!, it rang out, the pins toppling over in a swift blow — the man turned around, seeing the two girls.
Vee ran over, practically skipping — but Lola was stuck in place.
His face, Lola thought, trying to remain calm. Wh— what the fuck is Fuller doing here? Alive? And why the fuck is he so good at bowling?
"Hi!" Vee said, fearlessly, seemingly not noticing how much he looked like Herman Fuller — meanwhile, Lola was rooted in place, staring at a ghost.
"Can I help you?" the figure gruffly asked, looking irritated to have been disturbed mid-flow.
"Are you Manny?" Vee asked hopefully.
"That's what my ball says," he replied, the ball returning and displaying his name etched into it. "Can I help you?"
"It's me, Ick—"
They stopped, each in a sudden flash of recognition; old memories, old friends, old wounds, all dredged up to the surface. Manny's jaw dropped.
"Veronica?" the man said in amazement. "Is that you?"
"Yeah," Vee said, smiling softly.
"You… you look like yourself again," Manny said, gently smiling.
Vee, satisfied with the proof, sat down on the nearby bench, casually, as if it hadn't been years since they had last seen each other — she was at perfect ease. Meanwhile, Lola was still stock still, staring in confusion, keeping her distance.
"Hey, hun," Vee hollered, "Come on and join us!"
Manny turned to watch her approach — but instead of recognition, Lola saw Manny falling back into his well-practiced cover. He was going to try and be charming, the big lug.
"Oh, hello," Manny said, extending a hand and smiling. "I'm Manny, an old friend of Veronica's. Nice to meet you."
"Uh huh," Lola said, sitting down beside Vee. What's going on here? Why does Manny look so much like… wait, does Manny not know who I am?"
"This is my girlfriend," Vee said, Manny's eyes slightly narrowing, "Lola. But, of course—"
"Hi," Lola said, interrupting Vee and crossing her arms, scowling. He's acting like nothing happened. Did he even care about what happened to us?
Manny, having dismissed Lola's presence as irrelevant, turned back to Vee, sitting down and leaning forward. "How are you?" he asked, a familiar, if inverted smile looking back at them.
"Good!" Vee said, looking as if she was considering what to say next — the impulse took over almost immediately. "What happened to your face?" she asked abruptly.
Manny just laughed, leaning back. "It's a long story," he said, "as most things are. But to summarize, this was always my true face — how you remember me was simply a mask, from the…"
Manny looked at Lola hesitantly, exchanging a look with Vee.
Wow, Lola thought, rolling her eyes. He has no fucking clue who I am. And he's acting like nothing happened. Why… why isn't Vee saying anything? Isn't she upset too?
"It's okay," Vee said, giggling while giving Lolita a mischievous look. "She knows all about the circus."
She's noticed it too, then, Lola noted, still annoyed. But of course, she couldn't resist the joke.
"Ah," Manny said, looking at her with distrust. "Then, yes. The face I wore at the Circus was false, a charade performed at the behest of Fuller; he had said that a deformity would allow the freaks to trust me more. After some time, I found myself staying in that form, for the ease of things. Of course, after I left the Circus, it wasn't necessary any longer."
'After I left the Circus', Lola mocked mentally. Wow. Is he really just not going to apologize for abandoning us?
"Oh, okay," Vee said, smiling, seemingly brushing over Manny's word choice. "I'm just glad you reached out!"
"I am too," he said.
Lola stared into her beer glass, watching the bubbles drifting to the surface — a pitcher sat on the table, between them, some snacks too. Vee, meanwhile, stood at the end of their lane, 'practicing'.
That just left her, and Manny. Sitting in silence, slowly sipping on their beers.
"So, Lola, how… How did you two meet?" Manny asked, extending an olive branch of meaningless small talk.
Even now, Lola thought, rolling her eyes. He doesn't know who I am.
"We met at the Circus," Lola said harshly. "A long time ago."
"Oh, were you an audien—"
She couldn't take it anymore — Vee, thankfully, was out of earshot, her attention focused on the best ways to avoid the gutter, even with the guardrails up.
"Manny, I know who you are. I worked at the Circus. I was there." She crossed her arms, glaring at him, looking down over her glasses.
"You'll have to forgive an old man, Lola, but I'm afraid I don't think we met." He sounded genuine, but it rang hollow.
"Really?" Lola said, tilting her head in disbelief. "You have no idea who I am."
"I apologize," he said. "But of course, it's been so long, that I can't remember every—"
"Lolly," Lola said firmly, cutting him off. "You don't remember 'Li'l Lollipop'?"
A ball crashed into the wall, a loud smash echoing throughout the bowling alley — neither noticed, deadlocked in a staring match. Lola scowled, pulling her legs in and closing herself off — meanwhile, Manny just kept opening and closing his mouth, saying nothing.
"Lolly," he finally managed, "I didn't—"
"Save it." Lola glared, her glass slamming down onto the table in an overt show of annoyance. "I'm not Lolly, I used to be her. You know, you must remember — before the fire that burned down the circus and ruined our lives? Do you remember that, Manny? I know you probably don't, you know, given how quickly you abandoned us."
"Lolly, I didn't mean—" Manny started, trying to smooth things over.
"My name," she said, spitting venom, "is not Lolly. It's Lolita now, or Lola."
Manny nodded, unsure what to say — Lolita took the offensive, continuing.
"And, to be clear," Lola said, practically spitting. "I do not forgive you. I was there, the entire time. I watched Vee's entire world burn down around her, our lives imploding and falling apart; and you were nowhere. You ran away, leaving all of us behind. So, I grew up. I took care of Vee, figured out how to pick up the pieces."
Manny bowed his head, closing his eyes, appearing apologetic, at first glance. "Thank you for looking after her," he said, seemingly trying to placate Lola.
Yeah, right. Like that old trick would work.
"Well," Lola said harshly. "Somebody had to."
"I'm sorry," Manny said, "but the past is the past. Can't we—"
"We? There is no 'we', Manny," Lola said, snorting. "There used to be. You know, we used to be a family. And then, just like the absent father you were destined to be, you abandoned us the moment things got too tough."
The sound of balls striking pins were the only disruptions into the awkward silence that had fallen over the two — seemingly oblivious, Vee returned, collapsing onto the bench, draping herself over Lola. Lola smirked, kissing her to rub it in.
"What were you two talking about?" Veronica said, noticing the tension.
"The Circus," Lola said plainly, daring Manny to speak up.
He didn't bite.
"The Circus?" Vee said in excitement, as she began to ramble poetic about the past.
All the while, Lola stared at Manny, daggers in her eyes. Vee might have forgiven him, but… Lola hadn't forgotten.
"Oh my god," Vee said, struggling to talk through her infectious laughter. "Do you remember what he said?"
"Of course," Manny answered. "Get out of my bathroom! I told you, 'no tigers'!"
"God, that was great!" Vee said, wistfully.
"Don't you remember," Lola pointed out, "what Fuller did to that tiger?"
"Oh," Vee said, remembering the mess they had been cleaning up for months. "Right. I forgot about that."
"You know," Manny said, trying to steer the conversation. "For all of the flaws, I do miss it. The Circus."
"I know!" Vee said enthusiastically. "It was so fun, every day. I.. I would get to perform, I could make people laugh, feel better about their days. I was able to look after the people who mattered, the people I cared about."
"The smells, the sounds," Manny continued, reminiscing. "The cheers of the audience, the shared meals with our massive family, our friends, our brothers, sisters, comrades in pinstripes — I miss it too."
"Too bad it burned down," Lola snapped, refusing to get caught up in the illusion. "Sorry, but when I think about the circus, I remember how it ended. Do you, Manny?"
"Honey," Vee said, putting her hand on Lola's arm, which she brushed away.
"No, let him answer." Lola turned to Manny, confronting him. "Do you remember? The night the Circus burned down? The night your family was left behind, the one you are 'missing' so much? Or, did none of that matter to you?"
Manny was silent, for a second. Vee shot Lola a dirty look, which she returned. What, Lola thought, like I'm going to just let him off?
No, she wanted him to know just what he did.
"I'm sorry," Manny said, interrupting the tension. Lola was surprised.
"I am truly sorry, to both of you." He looked old, and tired. "I talked to a therapist, once, and she said that… she told me it was important to apologize. I know that it doesn't fix any hurt, and I know it doesn't change anything but… Lola, Veronica, I wanted to tell you that I am sorry. I am sorry that I left the Circus, and ran away. I have no excuse. I should have never given up on family."
"Thank you," Vee said warmly, touching Manny's arm, "I really appreciate that. I missed you, you big lug."
Manny smiled.
"I missed you too, Veronica. And you as well, Lola."
It doesn't change anything, Lola said to herself, despite her face relaxing slightly. But… it's a start. I guess.
"Are you doing okay?" Vee asked, looking at her girlfriend with concern. "You've seemed…"
"Tense?" Lola replied, snorting. Manny had left the two on their own, headed to the bar to get a new pitcher of beer — the moment he was gone, Vee's mask had dropped entirely.
What's bugging her? she thought, anxiously wringing her hands.
"I was going to say you were being an asshole," Vee teased. "But, sure, 'tense' works."
Lola blushed, looking down — Vee held her hand out, brushing Lola's cheek.
"I'm sorry, Vee," Lola said, refusing to make eye contact. "I'm just… he didn't even recognize me, you know? He tried to introduce himself to me."
"I know," Vee said, leaning in sympathetically. "I… sorry, I know I've just been in my own world but…"
"But you missed him?" Lola said, through gritted teeth.
"No," Vee said, recognizing Lola's behavior now. She's jealous again. It's so cute…
"It sure seems like yo—"
"I missed the Circus," Vee continued, cutting off Lola's rant before it could begin. "I just… remember how simple it was? You and me, living at the Circus, spending every day laughing with our huge family?"
"I know, Vee," Lola said, sadly. "But that was then, and this is now. I get it, trust me — it was nice not to have to, you know, worry about the world, and real life. I just… I don't know if I can do it anymore, you know?"
Veronica nodded slowly.
"I know," Vee said, her eyes closed in reminiscence. "I know we can't go back, not anymore."
"If we could," Lola said, leaning forward and grabbing Vee's hand, "you know that I would do anything to make your dreams come true, right? If you really wanted to, I would do everything I could to give you the Circus."
Vee opened her eyes, and was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer care and comfort Lola was showing, in public no less. She began to grin involuntarily, struggling to fight back the tears.
"Thanks, hun," Vee answered through shaky breathing. "But it's impossible. And, you know, I have my stream now, so… it's just a pipe dream anyways. It's time to move on, right?"
"Yeah," Lola said, calmly. "I think so."
What if I still can't move on? Vee worried, spiraling out as she rested back into the arms of her girlfriend. If she had only turned around — she might have seen the hesitance written on Lola's face.
Afternoon had turned to evening, and their time was wearing thin — a short time after their heart-to-heart, Manny had returned with the refilled pitcher. A pitcher which was quickly re-drained, now sitting emptily, surrounded by their scraps. The three had reached the perfect level of inebriation for an awkward social setting — where anything and everything is funny. After Manny's apology, the topic had changed, and there had been a few hours of casual conversation, alongside their social lubrication. For a short while, Lola had relaxed, giving Manny a chance; she owed Vee that much.
At least they had changed topics.
"What about you, Lola? What are you doing now?" Manny asked. He almost sounded genuine there,
"A boring office job. I do regression testing on a telehealth application, for a biotech start-up subsidiary, of a subsidiary, of a division of some pharmaceutical company. You know, just another cog in the machine."
"Ah," Manny said, "I'm afraid I have no idea what that means. But, do you like it?"
"No, who would?" Lola joked, as Vee and Manny laughed, their heads swimming collectively. "But, a job is a job, you know? Plus, it means that Vee has enough time to stream. What about you, Manny? How have you been staying busy?"
"Oh, not much," he replied. "I did odd jobs here and there, but after a while, I just lost the energy and enthusiasm. I'd saved my pay, back then, so I was able to go into a 'retirement', of sorts. I got into bowling, obviously," he expanded, gesturing at his clothes.
"I can't believe you're in a bowling league, Manny," Vee said, chuckling.
"Not just a league," he clarified. "A bowling team."
"That's not any better," Lola said, casually.
"Yes, well," Manny said, fidgeting with the velcro of his glove. "It was something to do."
The three all leaned back in their chairs, as if relaxing for the first time today.
"Can I ask a question, Vee?" Manny said, hand on his chin.
"Sure, shoot," Vee said, lazing back and leaning into Lola, who wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, possessively.
"I don't understand streaming," he said, sounding every bit his age. "I don't get it, at all. What are people doing? Why do they stream their lives? What do they get?"
Vee laughed, waving him off.
"Do you… do you remember how it felt? Standing, a crowd of people watching you, and only you?"
"Of course," he replied.
"It's the same thing, but almost… more intimate? You have this audience, talking with you. You get to learn about them, build relationships, have regulars. You get to perform, every day — you have fans, who are waiting to hear from you, logging on to watch like routine. You get to feel the rush, in the comfort of your own home. Why wouldn't you want that?"
Lola smiled. No matter how much Vee complained, whined about how annoying it was, spent nights crying, frustrated over how she felt like she was shoving herself into a box, changing things, just to get the engagement — despite all of that, Lola knew how much she truly loved it.
If only, Lola mused, if only she could have that, without having to kill her soul to stay 'trending'.
It was a double-ended blade, and Veronica refused to let go of the sharp handle.
"I'm confused," Manny said, frowning. "Why is a digital audience better than a live one?"
"It's not, duh," Veronica said, shaking her head, laughing. "But, Manny, where the hell am I supposed to perform for a live audience? In case you forgot, we don't have a circus anymore, and standing in the center of a ring of ashes doesn't really draw the same crowds."
"Are you sure about that?" Manny asked, as the gears seemed to turn in his inverted mind.
"Pretty sure," Lola added. "Last time I stood around, surrounded by ashes… there really wasn't a lot of laughter."
She chuckled, with a bit of edge, glaring at Manny.
Get the hint, Manny, Lola thought. Can't you see how much it hurts her?
"That was just the travelling show," Manny said, "didn't you know that?"
"Well, yeah, but—" Vee's breathing hitched for a second, almost undetectable, but not to Lola. "Manny, we were a travelling circus, remember?" she continued.
"We were," he nodded, "but that's not the only Circus."
"What are you talking about?" Lola said, leaning forward, realizing that she would need to be more overt. "Don't get her hopes up, Manny, just get to the point."
"The Circus on the Edge of Eternity," he said matter-of-factly.
"The what?" Lola asked, confused. Vee seemed to be concentrating, trying to remember this fragment of their past — but to no avail.
"Don't you remember?" Manny asked, looking between the two. "It may have been before your time, now that I think about it—"
"Well, what is it?" Vee asked, interrupting him in excitement.
"Before the travelling show," Manny started, spinning a yarn he had told many times, just not in recent history. "Fuller had another fairgrounds built. It was the original venue, a place, somewhere outside of time, on the edge of reality. It was to be a Circus that could last forever; an eternal venue, timeless."
"So, what happened?" Lola asked, her curiosity peaked.
"Herman grew tired of it—"
"Shocker," Lola snarked, rolling her eyes.
"Quite," Manny answered, noncommittally. "He had the travelling show built, believing that being on the road would allow him to… recruit more workers."
"Make more freaks, you mean?" Lola snorted.
"Yes, well," Manny said, looking conflicted. "There are many things, neither black nor white, when talking about Fuller — regardless, my point remains. There is a Circus, somewhere, frozen in time. Just… My apologies, these are simply the ramblings of a nostalgic old fool—"
"Anyways," Lola said, her lips pursed in concern. "Why don't we talk about something els—"
"Hold on," Vee said firmly, Lola and Manny freezing. In an instant, they were both thrown back into The Circus of the Disquieting, hanging off of their ringmaster's every syllable. "There's a Circus out there? Just sitting empty?"
What are you thinking? Lola wondered, eyes narrowing as she watched Vee's excitement come to a boil.
"I'm not sure, but…" Manny fidgeted with his nails, tapping his fingers on the table. "Yes, Vee, I think the Circus should still be out there — or at least, the facilities, in whatever condition they are in after this long."
"Is it?" Vee asked, dangerously. "I wonder…"
Vee turned, pleadingly staring with big eyes, piercing directly into Lola's heart.
"You don't mean…" Lola began, hesitation in her voice. Don't say what I think you're about to say…
"I mean," Vee said, a spark of inspiration in her eyes. "It's not like anybody is using it, you know?"
"No," Lola answered, crossing her arms. "Veronica, what are you talking about?"
Fuck, Lola yelled internally. She better not—
"I'm talking about restarting the Circus!" Vee said, jumping up in excitement. "Not like… you know, not just restarting things, but… we make our own Circus! A fresh start, you know? The show we've always wanted."
I can't let her get hurt, not again.
"No," Lola said dismissively, "we can't just uproot our lives to go join the Circus — that's like… half of why people use that saying. Because, Vee, it's insane."
Please, Lola pleaded, silently. Don't make me be the adult. Again.
"Yeah, well," Vee said, smirking, "so are we. Come on Manny, don't you think it's a good idea? We could have our own Circus, our way — we could be a family, just like before!"
"Oh no," Manny said wisely, "I'm staying out of this."
I miss our family, Lola admitted to herself, without thinking. I can't believe… I'm not considering this, am I?
Lola sighed, wishing that there was more beer.
"Honey," Lola said, "is this just you being impulsive, or… are you being serious right now?"
The question hung in the air, as the impromptu trio considered what that Circus could look like. Lola, for her part, had her doubts, but Vee was on the other end of the spectrum. She was nearly bouncing in excitement, as Lola watched the familiar look of Vee making a plan in her mind, thinking of a show, dreaming; for the first time, in a very long time, Lolita saw the woman she had fallen for. The leader, the ringmaster, the person who cared about everyone, only desiring an audience, and time with their family.
Fuck.
There was no way that she could say no.
"I…" Vee began weakly, trailing off. She swallowed, and met her girlfriend's gaze. "I just miss it."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but—" Lola sighed, before she began to giggle from the absurdity of things. She regained control of herself shortly, looking at her girlfriend with sincerity. "I meant what I said to you earlier, Vee."
"I know, I know, I have my stream to—"
"No," Lola said, shaking her head. "What I said about making your dreams come true. Dork."
"You mean?" Vee asked, hope creeping into her voice. "I know that you're done with the Circus, but, maybe we could just—"
"I said yes," Lola responded, laughing. "If there's a Circus out there, needing an audience as much as you do, then okay — whatever it takes, I'll be there for you."
"As will I, Veronica," Manny said, softly,. "Let me help you, let me try and make it up to you. I left you, and for that, I am truly sorry. Let me bring you to this circus, let me help you live your dreams, once again."
Vee had turned, staring at her with big eyes. "Can we really do this? Can we go tomorrow, to find it?"
"How about this," Lola started, laughing as she grabbed Vee's hand, lacing their fingers together. "The three of us will go some time next week, and try to find the Circus. No promises, but… if you can make a plan, and give new life into the Circus, Vee, I'll support you every step of the way. Plus, I can probably help out with the administrative side; you know, so that somebody does that this time."
Vee squealed, jumping into Lola's lap and smothering her with kisses. "Thank you, honey, I'll make it up to you later." Vee looked up at her, lustfully.
Lola smirked, turning to look at Manny, her face saying exactly how she felt. Sure, you can give her a Circus, Manny. But I'm still her girlfriend. Remember that.
Manny pretended not to notice.
Dropping down, Vee yawned, checking her phone. "Oh, shit, I didn't realize how late it was. I have to get home for my stream… I'm sorry, Manny, but we've got to run."
"Ah, alas," Manny replied, standing calmly. "Let me walk you out."
Vee began to walk to the doors, humming a familiar tune from the old calliope. 'Send in The Clowns', Lola thought. Seeing her chance, Lola stopped, turning to Manny and grabbing his bowling shirt in her fist.
"One last thing, Manny," Lola said, snarling. "If you hurt Vee again, I will fix your face until it's upside-down again. Am I clear?"
"As crystal," he replied, his face unreadable.
As Manny stood, feeling hollow once more, he watched Veronica and Lola exit, walking into the lamp-lit streets. There was a pain in his chest, and a rock in his gut — but, for the first time in years, he was happy.
I think, he mused. Although, isn't it strange that joy would be unfamiliar to a former carnie?
Vee clapped as the doors closed behind them, jumping into Lola's arms, the two embracing in a display that was distinctly inappropriate for public consumption. Manny watched for a second, before turning away, scowling, and sitting back down, surrounded by empty glasses. He was alone again, and stuck with his thoughts.
I don't know what to do, Manny worried, I… I haven't thought about the circus in years, and now… now I'm going to take Veronica, and start a new show.
And then it hit him.
How can I be truly sorry if I still don't know who I am? Manny frowned, a familiar inverted-smile for his face. But… maybe the Circus on the Edge of Eternity has my answers. Maybe… if I can figure out who I am meant to be, I can make it up to Veronica.
He nodded to himself. Yes, he would do it for her. He would do it, and then, his family would be whole again.