Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Music was playing from the stove.

When it stopped, Janitor couldn't help but sigh a little, even if he was smiling. It was nice, wasn't it? And it sounds so good to the accompaniment of raindrops.

"Yeah. It was beautiful. I could listen to it for hours."

He can't play all night, you know? He needs to sleep sometimes. And work. Which, while on the subject, you should also consider. Working, I mean.

"Oh, c'mon. Why are you always ruining the mood? Can't we just pretend for a moment that..."

Noise on the stairs. Janitor raises and, quietly as possible, goes to the door. He opens them carefully and looks around. No one is there. He stealthy approaches the staircase. Ticketbooth Clerk gingerly climbs down. So he's not going to play any more tonight. Janitor, keeping a safe distance, follows him down. What are you doing?

"I'm just... thought... I may see him home."

All the way? If you don't go  with  him, that is spying, you know.

"Shhh."

He was upstairs for hours, why didn't you approach him before? You could just talk to him. Still can. It is really late, maybe he will want you to walk him home.

Janitor goes to the bottom of the stairs and watches through the crack of the door as other young man goes to the ticket booth, which is closed. Ticketbooth Clerk stands there, for some time, thinking what to do. Reluctantly he walks off.

Janitor watches him, slowly disappearing into the night. Rain outside pours heavier and heavier. And reaching the edge of the tower grounds, Ticketbooth Clerk suddenly stops. Hesitantly, he turns and starts to go back to the tower. Oh no! He'll see you! Janitor looks for a place to hide but there isn't any! Quick, go upstairs! And the Janitor runs, quickest and quietest he can, hiding again in his closet. His heart is pounding, he can't catch his breath. He tries to calm himself and be as quiet as possible. It's okay, he didn't go after you. You would hear his steps, wouldn't you?

"I don't know. Maybe. Yeah."

And would it be wrong if he did?

"I... wouldn't know what to say."

Well, maybe he wants to talk to you.

"Why would he?"

But suddenly, a knock. Janitor, sitting on the floor, with his back against the door, flinches and kicks a wooden case laying treacherously nearby.

"Hi. Sorry to disturb you again, but..."

It is too late to pretend he's not there. Taking a deep breath Janitor pulls himself together and rises to face the door. And opens it! Ticketbooth Clerk is on the other side. He's startled by the door which seemed to open on its own, but then he sees the Janitor and smiles. Janitor looks at him, terrified by the fact he doesn't know what to do or say but also, gets lost in this small, polite, relieved smile.

"Oh, hi. You  are  here. Great. I hope I'm not interrupting something?"

Ticketbooth Clerk carefully tries to look inside the dark janitor's closet, to see if someone is there. He heard you talking to me earlier. You can do this, there must be a simple explanation. Just don't close this door, he might be less understanding than...

"...Coco."

"Excuse me?"

"I was... I just... I... Um..."

Good Lord.

"'re you ok?"

"Yeah. Yes. I just... Hmmm."

But Janitor just stands there, looking into the darkness over Ticketbooth Clerk's shoulder, trying not to cry. He remembers how awkward he was around Coco and how much time they lost. Even tho he tries not to think about it, it paralyzes him. Bless the darkness, hiding his face. It's alright, you can do this. You two talked already and it went well, remember? Ask him something!

"Umm. Can I help you something? I mean..."

Good! He didn't notice.

"Uh, yes. I left my raincoat in the ticket booth and it's... well... raining. Maybe... do you have keys to it?"

"No."

That was a bit rough. You  can  open a ticket booth, don't you? Oh, you don't want him to know you're getting there through the vents... Maybe ask Mr Chouinard for keys. You are the janitor, you  should  have access to places. You know, to clean them. Nonetheless, you should offer him some help. How about an umbrella?

"I don't have any umbrellas."

"Oh. I'll just wait then."

They stare at each other nervously. Ticketbooth Clerk is soaked, he shivers a little. You should invite him in.

"Um. Yeah. Maybe you should wait in my closet. I... I have stove here, you can dry..."

"Oh. Thanks."

Janitor shows the other boy to sit on the cot and kneels down by the stove to add some wood to it.

"I... you can dry your clothes. I mean... Um. There is my spare sweater... you can take it. And there is a blanket on a cot. Hm."

"Thank you."

Ticketbooth Clerk takes off his wet jacket and wraps himself in a blanket. Fire plays brightly in the stove, but Janitor is stirring coals still. He has no idea what to say or do. Also, he's trying to hide his face. Oh, he's soo nervous now. He would love to help other young man and maybe spend some time with him but not now. At this moment he wants to be alone. 

But he is here  now . What's the matter? You did the right thing. And offering your sweater was nice.

"It turned out stupid."

"What?"

He can't hear me, please, remember about it? And it doesn't. Look, he doesn't shiver anymore. Janitor glances at the Ticketbooth Clerk, their eyes meet and the other young man smiles again. He sees you, you can't hold your breath when he's watching!

"I... maybe I should go. It is late, I should... work."

Really? Are you really going to do some work? Maybe he should come by more often.

"Oh. Yeah. Hmmm. Then..."

"You should stay until rain stops."

They said it simultaneously, then both murmured some agreement. Janitor takes a mop a goes out. If there is a storm you usually let the rain clean the tower.

"I know."

So, what are you going to do? Or you just trying to avoid staying alone with him.

"Ughh."

Why? You had an excellent chance to be hospitable.

"I wasn't prepared."

Why couldn't you just have a conversation with him? Like with Mr Chouinard? Ask some questions, get to know him?

Oh, are you going to ignore me now?

"I have work to do."

Of course you do.

"You always nag me to clean, so I'm cleaning."

Convenient. But of course, please, do. Just clean something under a roof so  you  don't get wet. If you don't want to go back to your warm closet, of course.

He is still so anxious. Maybe you should tell a story. Oh, come on. You know it will make you feel better. But he isn't listening to me. What's the matter? You did good, really, it went quite well.

"It doesn't matter."

Then why are you crying?

Oh. It is about Coco, isn't it? Oh, Julian, you did your best, you really did. It will be better this time. Janitor shivers a bit and decides to clean the staircase to warm himself up. He should start from the top and sweep the stairs, but when leaving his closet he grabbed a mop. He also forgot to take a bucket. He sighs and starts to brush steps with it. It is too damp to sweep but too dry to wash them, so he only smears the dirt on the metal. At least he has something to do.

It takes him a long time to reach the bottom and even longer to go up again, trying to redo the cleaning of the steps. Mop is dry now but also stiff from all of the dirt and dust. Somehow stairs look even worse than before. But he is so tired, he barely shuffles his feet. Oh, Julian, you shouldn't push yourself that much.

He enters his closet and goes straight to his cot.

"Oh!"

Ticketbooth Clerk is still there! He sleeps wrapped in Janitor's blanket, leaning against the wall, perched on a cot like a little owl. He must have nodded off waiting for the rain to stop. Janitor doesn't want to wake him up so he tries to be very quiet. Luckily, he does have a lot of practice in being noiseless. Stove is still warm, but he adds some wood, to make sure it will stay lit, to keep them both warm. Quiet as possible he moves some cases and takes place in the corner, next to the stove. It is not comfortable. He doesn't have anything to make bedding or to cover himself, he can only wrap himself in his oversized jacket. Floor is a bit hard, there is a draft from the door, but he doesn't care. He fells so warm inside, by the fire, in the Ticketbooth Clerk's presence. It's almost like a sleepover. Oh, just imagine, how nice it would be! You two, sitting together on a cot. Janitor could warm some coffee on the stove, so the smell of it would fill the room. When it would be ready he would give the other young man a cup and ask if it is okay. He would like it very much and hold a cup, to warm his hands and sip from it from time to time. They are wrapped in the sound of the rain and this warm, cozy light of the fire from the stove. They talk, about all sorts of things, and learn so much about each other. And Ticketbooth Clerk's voice is so lovely and soothing, with the sound of the rain it forms the most pleasant melody. And as you are chatting and laughing you notice how he looks at you, full of gratitude for how safe and cozy  you  make him feel.

And with that though, glancing furtively at the sleeping Ticketbooth Clerk, across from him, hugging the wall in the other corner, Janitor falls asleep.

He wakes up curled in a corner, alone, blanket over him.

"What...? What happened? Oh."

It was a really nice evening. But you've imagined most of it. Either way, it makes Janitor happy.

Chapter Text

The melodies that Ticketbooth Clerk plays this time are different. They are definitely something new, something he isn't used to playing, but it also sounds like he is genuinely delighted to try them. Janitor almost sees him, biting his lips as he was trying and failing with some parts, smiling and laughing a little when he gets them right. Maybe you could go there, enjoy it  together ? Spend some time with someone real. It will be good for you.

"I don't want to interrupt."

When the music stops Janitor raises and starts to move things around his closet. Are you... tiding up?

"I thought that... you know. Just in case he would come here."

I'm impressed. Maybe freshen yourself a bit when you're at it.

"Mhhh. Do you think I should?"

He looks in the reflections in the saws. Knocking on the door. Janitor stops and flinches a little.

"Uhmm, excuse me? Hi. Are you... I mean... It is Nunnally here."

Janitor holds his breath, his heart is pounding. Julian, it's ok. Just open the door, he came to you as you wanted. You should answer. Before it will get awkward.

"Sorry, I heard your voice but if it isn't a good time..."

Do something or he'll think you're avoiding him! Go! Open the door!

And Janitor does.

"Hi."

He smiles so wide it may make some uneasy. Luckily, other young man is looking down and rummaging in his bag.

"I... I came here, cos I wanted to thank you. Aaand, I know it is a bit silly, so I don't mind if you don't want it but I got some cake and I thought you might like it?"

Janitor looks amazed and, without the word, accepts a small package from Nunnally's hands. No one did that before.

"As a thank you for the other day and for opening Eiffeil's apartment. It means a lot to me, to be able to play. I love playing music."

"Yeah, me too."

"Really? Do you play on something?"

Janitor changes colour and looks away.

"Oh, no, I mean, I like..."

Go on.

"...you play. How you play."

"Oh. You've heard."

Ticketbooth Clerk also blushes a bit.

"Yeah. It was beautiful. You are very good at it."

"Awww, you think so?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

They're looking at each other and smiling, not really sure what to say next. Ohhh, they're so cute together. What? Janitor reddens even more. 

You should invite him. You know, for the cake.

"Oh, yeah. But I don't have any cutlery."

"What?"

"Oh. Sorry. The cake. You said something about a cake. We should try it. I don't have any cutlery. Here. Sit. I'll...  borrow  some from the commissary."

"We can go together if you want."

They sat at the table. Janitor finds some forks at the counter and they share a piece of a cake with cream and various berries. Ohh, this is so nice. Like a date. Oh no, he flinches at that thought. Whatever you do, don't run away. Like... that... time... Uhhhhh I'm not helping, do I? Janitor reddens and then goes very pale. 

"Are you ok? Oh my God, are you allergic to something?"

"Yes, I mean nooo. I'm fine. Fine. It's just... nice. This is nice. A nice cake. I like it very much."

"Really? I'm glad. Some people find it too sweet."

"I love sweet things."

Oh gosh. Are you... flirting?

"So... why did you come to work at the Eiffel Tower?"

"Oh. They were looking for clerks and I needed a job. And it is quite easy. You just need to be polite to people and be able to count good enough. And... it's nice to be a part of the Tower. To allow people to meet it. They are usually excited and happy and... I'm a gatekeeper of that. That sounded a bit silly."

"Noo. That s good. It is good that you like your job."

"Do you like your job?"

"Um... I... not really. I'm terrible at it."

Ticketbooth Clerk laughs. It isn't mocking laughter, it is understanding.

"Then why are doing this?"

Janitor shrugs.

"I don't know anything else. I was... I was always cleaning the house and when I ran away I didn't have any other skill."

"You ran away from home?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It must've been tough."

"Um."

And the Janitor tells him the story of how he ran away from home and meet his greatgrandfather, brushing off this episode by just saying:

"...and he kept me, for a little while, and he was  amazing . But my parents came and get me. And then... after some time... I ran away for good."

Other than that Janitor didn't share much about himself. But quite awkwardly yet efficiently asked Ticketbooth Clerk some questions, encouraging him to talk about himself. It was really nice to learn things that way – asking instead of eavesdropping and hoping to discover something. And Ticketbooth Clerk's voice was so lovely and soothing. Janitor was asking more and more questions in hope he'll never stop talking.

And they were laughing, sharing a piece of a cake and drinking iced coffee and talking for hours, about all kinds of things. It was so pleasant, like something from one of Janitor's fantasies. But it all happened. And it was even nicer because it was real.

Ticketbooth Clerk yawns. 

"I should head home. I'm starting early in the morning."

He checks his watch.

"Oh, which will be sooner than I thought."

"Um. Yeah. Work. I should be working too. Actually... I'll be working till morning. So you could stay in my closet. If you want. I'm not going to use it anyway. I mean..."

"I don't know... It would be convenient but I can't... shouldn't stay here every other night? I live in this rooming house. It's fine but Landlady is sometimes cross with people who keep coming late. Cos, you know, she needs to open for them or she's just staying late to see who's coming at what hours."

"Sounds bad."

Janitor knows how it is not to be able to leave your house. And it upsets him a little that he's causing Ticketbooth Clerk to be in trouble. 

"She's fine. Just a little bit too nosy. And I wouldn't want to cross her. I like it there."

He yawns again. 

"Ohhh it's so late. Okay. If you'll be okay with that, I'll be glad to stay."

Janitor brightens up.

"Absolutely!"

"Thank you. But... I don't want you to sleep on the floor again."

"I just... finished earlier, I didn't have much to do that day, rain did most of the work, you know."

He chuckles nervously as he says it. Slow down.

"But if you finish earlier, just wake me up, okay? And I'll just go."

"Yeah. Sure."

So the Janitor spends all night cleaning the tower. He couldn't go back to his closet until dawn, not if he didn't want to wake Ticketbooth Clerk. 

"I'm so tired. Maybe I'll just sleep in the commissary?"

What if someone sees you? What if  he  sees you? That is even worse, at least in your closet you have a cot and a stove and it is a bit chilly in the commissary. Besides, you are a janitor, you are  supposed to  clean at night, so you can just do your job. You know, try something new. 

So he is wandering around the tower, sweeping, polishing railings, to keep himself warm, busy and awake. You are getting really good at cleaning. 

"Yeah."

Well done! That's good, isn't it? That's your job, don't you want to be better at it?

"I would like to be better at something... you know. Better than this."

That is an undeniably useful job! 

"I know. But..."

No one will notice it. 

"Yeah."

And you think, that no one will notice you. Is it really that important? Can't you just be proud that you are doing your best?

"Mhhh."

Oh, you're afraid he will not notice you? He already did! And he likes you the way you are.

"Mhh."

That's wonderful! 

"What if he doesn't like me like I like him?"

Oh. You know, you got a friend. It's a good start. 

When there is nothing else to clean at the Tower, he just sits outside his closet, waiting for dawn, hugging his mop. He waits until it is ok to wake up Ticketbooth Clerk, to let him rest but also give him enough time to get ready before work. 

He's so cute when he sleeps, curled on a cot, with a blanket pulled over his head. Janitor stares at him, studying this nicely shaped face. He could stay like that for hours. But the clock is ticking, bells on the nearby towers are already ringing. You should wake him up. Or he'll be late. 

"Oh. Yes, I forgot. Um. I should wake him up."

Just call him. Or tap his shoulder. 

"Yeah. Yeah."

But the Janitor doesn't know what to do so he decides to put back his mop first. But as he puts it back, it leans over and... oh no! It tumbles into the shelf pushing some precariously placed cans and other supplies, which, with awful clutter, fall on the floor and cases laying on it. Both young men jump at the sound. Ticketbooth Clerk, a bit scared, isn't sure where he is and what is happening. And, honestly, the Janitor murmuring lots of apologies isn't helping. Calm down. You are confusing him. Let him rally.

"I'm sorry. I woke you up."

Oh, he managed to conclude a sentence. Thank God.

Ticketbooth Clerk blinks and finally grasp a situation. He looks at his watch.

"Oh. That is a perfect time, actually. And mhhh... good morning."

"Hi. Sorry."

"That's ok. Thank you for having me. I'll just clean myself a bit and go to the ticket booth."

"Mhm."

"Thank you. And... see you around?"

"Yeah."

"Then... uh. Bye."

And he disappears on the other side of the door, his silhouette in the raising sun still in Janitor's eyes. 

Janitor falls back into his cot and slips into the warmth, that Ticketbooth Clerk left behind. He forgets how tired he was. All he can think about is how cute Ticketbooth Clerk's hair looked, ruffed by sleeping with his head under a blanket. And how nice and warm his bed feels, almost like he's being hugged by it.

Chapter Text

There was no music that night. Janitor is laying in his cot, staring anxiously at the darkness. It is really late. He won't come. He said he can't be here every night, remember? He needs to sleep sometimes. In  his bed . 

"I know."

And maybe he has some life outside the Tower. Maybe you should also go out more. But the Janitor, quite depressed, turns in his cot. 

It is Wind's Daughter and Tower is really busy. Mr Chouinard asks Janitor to do some extra work, even during the day. Janitor isn't happy about it but he wants to help. He keeps to the shadows and tries not to draw any attention to himself, weaving between tourists. But he discovers that there is no need to do so – for most people, a raggedy person with a mop is invisible. That doesn't make him happy either.

Mr Chouinard asked him to empty trash bins, which started to spill. Some important people are coming to the Tower today and everything must be perfect. 

He makes his way down with a heavy garbage bag, which gets bigger and bigger with every bin he passes. He is almost done when he hears someone calling him. It goes from the ticket booth's door! Man who stands there waves him in.

Janitor comes over, only to find it is not  his  ticket booth clerk.

"Hey, are you a new janitor?"

"Um... yeah?"

"Good. Good. For a moment I thought you're some homeless dude stealing our trash."

He laughs. Apparently, he thought it was hilarious. He is also trying to pat Janitor on the shoulder but he manages to shift enough to be out of reach. 

"That's good. Good that Mr Chouinard  finally  hired someone. You know, for months he's been claiming that the janitor he hired was invisible."

"Oh. Really?"

Janitor barely listens to the man. He's so tense and ready to run it almost hurts, but with all his might he's trying to stay and peek inside the booth. Is Nunnally there? The janitor hadn't seen him in a couple days and he's really worried. But the other man is blocking the door and he cannot see inside.

"Anyway... Could you take that?"

Man hands him another bin.

"And when you'll be cleaning the ticket booth, be more attentive when cleaning  under  the desks. I think there are cobwebs there already."

Too disappointed and humiliated to say anything, Janitor takes trash with him and takes it to the main garbage container.

When he's done, he wipes hands on his jacket and heads back to the ticket booth, to try to check on Nunnally again. He doesn't even need to talk to him, just see, to make sure he's okay. Suddenly he stops. He's closer to the line and he recognises a laugh. There is no other possibility – that's Leticia! He ducks down and lurks from the shadow, making the passing gentleman really confused as he's trying to understand what danger make this young man hide so suddenly. They are all here, led by Mr Chouinard. They're here! Maybe you should go and say hello?

"Um... Noo. This isn't a good time. I..."

Are you sure? They're heading in this direction!

They stopped. Mr Chouinard shows them something, everybody looks up at construction towering above them. There is a group of old ladies passing nearby. Janitor takes a chance and, hiding behind them, runs toward the staircase. There are some tourists on the stairs and he needs to dodge them to get higher. He wants to hide but where? There are so many people on the decks! He's trying to get near the railing but everywhere he looks there are loads of tourists. 

"Rghhhh."

He goes to the closet. You'll be trapped there! And you can't close it, there is no lock.

"I know."

He gets in and looks nervously around. 

"Okay."

He grabs a rag and some tools (he's so helpless with them he isn't even sure what it is and what it does) and strides out. Shaken, but pretending to be confident, he goes straight to the edge. Was that Mr Chouinard's voice? Not waiting to find out, he climbs on the railing. Someone squeals, others are murmuring disapproval.

"It's fine" he says in a small voice. He swallows and tries a bit louder. "I work here. I need to... fix... a thing."

He waves a tool at not very convinced tourists and deftly climbs up the girder. It wasn't stealthily. They will talk about it.

"No one will get here. I'm safe."

He is safe. No one pursues him. I mean, no one can, even if they would like to.

He stays there until nightfall. Maybe you should go down now. It's getting cold. And you should open Eiffel's apartment, it's almost time. 

"What if he doesn't come?"

He will certainly not if you won't open it.

He climbs down and goes to the vent. In the apartment, he touches the piano and sighs. You could stay here for a bit. Wait for him. It is really nice here. 

"Noo, it wouldn't be right."

Without much hope, he goes to his cot. You should fuel the stove. You'll get cold. 

"What do you think, what others are doing for the holiday?"

In this little attempt to cheer himself up, he falls asleep, dreaming about his favourite holiday traditions and the people he shared them with.

The next day, cautiously, not to be seen by anyone, he approaches the ticket booth. He peeks in, to see if Nunnally is there.

And he is. Sitting there, smiling politely to the countless customers. He looks tired, don't you think?

"Yeah."

Maybe you should go there and say hi. Ask if he's okay. 

"Um... I don't want to bother him at work."

He waits until the ticket booth is closed and lurks from the shadows, hiding from everyone. At last, he emerges, hoping that Nunnally will notice him waiting.

"Oh. Hi."

Ticketbooth Clerk isn't as happy about this meeting as Janitor is. Janitor sinks a bit. Nunnally is quite sad and is avoiding the other boy's glare.

"Just wanted to ask if you're okay. I haven't seen or heard you in a few days and... I was worried."

Ticketbooth Clerk smiles faintly.

"Oh. We got so much work. Tower is really busy. Holiday, you know?"

There is definitely something off. He seems clearly shaken and distressed. It brakes Janitor's heart to see him that way.

"Why are you... um... sad?"

Ticketbooth Clerk nervously runs his fingers through the hair.

"I'm not... It's just... work. There was this lady, she waited quite a long time. And I made a mistake at the cash register... It's just... Lots of people yelled at me today..."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Janitor would love to comfort him somehow but he isn't actually sure how to do that. Would hug be too much? Or maybe he should just pat him on the shoulder? Is he allowed to touch him at all? Wouldn't it be too cold if he doesn't? You're overthinking it. What do you do, when you're stressed or sad? Apart from hiding in your closet, curled on your cot?

"Mhm. Yeah. I think I know a thing. It'll make you feel better."

"I can't go drinking, I'll need to work tomorrow."

Janitor is confused.

"Um... no. There is this place... a hideout. It always calms me down and helps to clear my head. We can... go there. For a moment. Just um... Follow me?"

He makes a few steps but Ticketbooth Clerk isn't convinced. 

"I just... want to go to bed. Even tho I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep..."

He said the last part really quietly but Janitor hears it and is even more worried. He gathers all his courage and takes other young man by a hand.

"Just... trust me on this?"

They take the elevator, cos even tho Janitor prefers stairs on every occasion, Ticketbooth Clerk looks like he's not going to make it today. 

He leads them to the railings. Ticketbooth Clerk is surprised when Janitor climbs on to them and extends his hand to invite him. The only concern Janitor has is if other young man will follow him or just call him crazy and run away.

"Are you sure it is safe?"

"I never fell."

Reluctant, Ticketbooth Clerk comes over. He takes a deep breath, very unsure, but he looks only at the Janitor, who clearly expects him to join. Janitor looks pretty sure of what he's doing. He  never  saw him so certain and relaxed on the ground. And that confidence convinces Ticketbooth Clerk and he takes Janitor's hand.

They climb the girders, not too high, cos Ticketbooth Clerk isn't very good at it. They sit and Janitor shows him how to wrap legs around the metal to secure himself. Sun is setting and the spectacle begins – the city slowly changes hues, starts to glow with thousands of lights, hum with countless new voices. 

"I sit here for hours. Everything down there is just so far away. It's like you're floating over the city. It really calms you down. It's quiet and peaceful, there is no one here. I mean... You are here now. Do you like it?"

"It is... definitely something. It's kinda funny, I've never seen you that calm and relaxed."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Which is funny, cos any moment we can fall to our deaths."

He chuckles nervously and is far opposite of calm. Janitor notices how desperately Ticketbooth Clerk clinches his fingers on metal. I don't think it would be his favourite life experience. He might have fear of heights.

"Oh no."

You didn't thought about that. 

"Are you... afraid of heights?"

"Sometimes... a little... probably yes."

Oh-oh.

"You want to go down?"

"Love to. But I'm not sure I can."

Oh no! It is dark and metal is slippery, he'll fall! That was a terrible idea! Why didn't you just watch the sundown from the observation deck?

"A bit too late for that now. Um... Okay. Ugh... We'll just slowly go down, it is not that far. Um, I'll be there, all the time. I'll catch you."

"That may not be physically possible."

"You can do this. You get up here, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I was looking up, haven't seen how far away ground was. It's fine, maybe I'll just wait till morning."

He'll freeze if he stays here. You need to convince him somehow...

"There was this blind girl, who flew a song, thinking it was a kite."

That's right! Hypnotize him!

"She flew it, every year through the windy season and all villagers would gather to listen to a song, filling a sky. And people really liked her and the way she experienced things. They never told her that her kite was a song because they saw how happy it made her and it made them happy. And Darkness loved to be part of that, so every day it would come earlier and earlier. And It get used to the girl's company and they became friends."

"Darkness really liked the girl. You see, she was blind so darkness was all she knew and she wasn't afraid of It. They were familiar with each other and she carried It with her everywhere she went. She didn't mind Darkness, going along with her, in corner of her eyes. And they played together and were telling stories and running around the village. And Darkness saw all that was around them, and even tho It understood very little of it, in the evenings, when they were alone It always recounted for the girl everything that was around them that day. And as long as Darkness was silent during the day, no one noticed It. It prefered it that way because, usually, people were afraid of It. And It was too shy to engage them on their own."

"And when the girl died Darkness missed her a lot. And It started to look after other children, to befriend them. But they were so afraid of It. So Darkness started to do something for them – It started to hide other scary things, so they weren't frightening them. But they eventually saw those things and thought that Darkness was deceiving them. So Darkness tried something else – It started to hide children  from  the scary things. And they started to trust It. And It also found me. And I didn't trust It at first, I was also afraid of It. But I discovered that things which scared us at first might be exactly what we needed. And when I was no longer scared of It, Darkness helped me and hide me from many of my terrors. And I'm a friend of the Darkness now, and It won't hurt me or my friends. It always watches over me, especially on the girders. So we are safe up here. Like right now, it would be all around us, like a safety net. And it whispers and promises to catch you, so you don't fall, Nunnally. Can you hear It?"

Janitor holds his breath.

"Yes."

"You know you are safe on the girders?"

"Yes."

It worked! He is hypnotized! And he listened to your suggestions!

"Okay. Now. We are safe here but it is time for us to go down. We will  carefully  climb down and you will  safely  go to the railing and I'll be there all the way. Okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. Here we go."

And they start to climb down. Janitor a little bit ahead, securing and instructing Ticketbooth Clerk gently where to put feet or hand. Girders are already slippery and covered in early hoarfrost. 

Thank God, Janitor reached the railing! He jumps down and instantly spins towards the Ticketbooth Clerk to help him down. Then he collapses on the floor, tense and shaken, just realizing how dangerous it was. And how he hurts and endangers everyone dear to him.

"God, I almost... killed... him! What... what I was thinking? Oh my God."

You scared yourself sorely, but everything is fine. Calm down, calm down. Nothing happened. You wanted to help. It is not your fault that this is the only safe place you know.

Ticketbooth Clerk just stands there, not sure what just happened, still hearing reassuring voices from the Darkness. You should wake him up.

"Y...yeah. Maybe I just... yeah... Three... Two... One... And you're awake! Oh God, are you okay?"

"What? What just happened? Are we... How?"

"Nunnally, I'm so sorry. I should have... I didn't thought... I forgot other people..."

Ticketbooth Clerk realizes what happened and sinks down, taking deep calming breaths as he's trying not to crumble. They stay like that for a really long time. Nunnally is first to collect himself. He's not sure if he recalls the event correctly because what he remembers is quite bizarre, and decides to put it aside and to think about now. He focuses on the bright side as he can think of any.

"It's okay. I'm fine. You get me down. And we are not squashed on the pavement. I... I don't know how you did that but I wasn't afraid. Thank you."

He stands up and extends his hand to help the Janitor up, but he stays on the floor. Why are you doing this?

"I think I need to lay down for a bit."

You'll get cold. 

"Are you alright? You'd seemed fine up there. Did  you  get scared of heights?"

"I... just... so sorry..."

"I think you should get up from the floor, it might be dirty."

If he was supposed to clean it, it most probably is.

"Aren't you... mad at me? I put you in danger."

"Yeah, I mean, you did, a bit? I  never  did anything  that  crazy. But I'm also kind of an adult, I should have known better not to climb the Tower  knowing  that I might not be able to get down."

"I really wanted to help, I didn't mean to upset you more."

"Huh. I even forgot that I was upset before."

Almost dying is quite effective on that.

"But let's stay on the observation deck next time, okay?"

And he goes off leaving the Janitor. He's still lying on the floor, looking into friendly darkness and thinking only about what he just heard. 'Next time...'.

Chapter Text

There was Coco's funeral today. Most of his family and friends were already dead, so not many people attended, mostly neighbours and various associates. They couldn't close the Tower so only few employees could attend. Mr Chouinard gave quite a nice speech, despite the fact he get lost in it at some point and needed to pause at least twice, to stop himself from crying. 

And there was music, played by various musicians whose lives Coco crossed during his life. Some of it was poignant and mourning and some surprisingly lively and cheerful. It felt like something Coco would love to play himself.

Janitor was especially uneasy. He decided to stick at the back and hide behind the tree. He felt guilty, tho he wasn't sure if it was because of Coco's death, the way he was treating him or the fact he couldn't even attend his funeral properly. But there were so many people, strange people he doesn't know. And, even if it isn't plausible, he has the feeling they're all staring at him, judging him. But he didn't run away, even tho it took all his strength and courage.

It is over. Mr Chouinard found him and gave a heavy pat on the shoulder, with some encouraging, sentimental words. He offered to give him a ride to the wake.

"Um... thank you but... I thought I'll just stay a bit... here? If it is okay."

Janitor sits by a grave, not really sure what to do or say. He would like to talk to him but isn't sure if there is a point. He told him the most important things, he did what he could. But was it enough? Julian, he might not be able to hear you now, but if it will make you feel better – talk. 

"I... maybe I'll just sit here for a while."

He isn't really sure how he got back to the Tower, but there he is, curled on his cot, crying. He can't stop. Guilt and embarrassment, remorse and sorrow won't leave him. Julian, please. It wasn't your fault. It just... happened that way. 

Knock on the door. He freezes. He doesn't want to see anyone, do anything right now. 

"Um... Julian? Are you there?"

Silence. Janitor isn't sure what to do. He could use Nunnally's company but he really doesn't want him to see him this way.

"I saw you coming back to the Tower and was looking for you."

On the other side Ticketbooth Clerk exhales and tries the knob. Surprised, he opens the door and sees the Janitor, who is hoping that if he curls even more, the Ticketbooth Clerk won't notice him. Nunnally sits on the edge of the cot. 

They both stay silent. Janitor is failing to suppress his sobs. Nonetheless, he tries not to move, still hoping it will make him unnoticeable. Ticketbooth Clerk is sitting, looking into the darkness, taking in slow, deep breaths, like he's trying to calm himself down or prepare to face a difficult task. 

"I... um... Coco..." he exhales deeply, not entirely sure if he  can  do this. "Coco told me that you have no one else to talk to. He was really worried about you. And I thought... that now... I'm here. If you'd need someone to talk to... I surely do."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Janitor sniffs and sits up, pulling his knees up to his chin. Ticketbooth Clerk's eyes are a bit red. Certainly, he was crying today.

"Sorry... I just... He was..."

Nunally reaches and hugs the Janitor to calm him down. Janitor freezes. And Ticketbooth Clerk hugs him tighter and whispers words, right words, kind and comforting. It is so nice and warm. Janitor feels he is melting into this embrace and all his sadness and worries seem to melt with it too.

***

Knock on the door.

"Julian? Julian are you zere?"

It is Mr Chouinard. Janitor wakes up, wrapped in pleasant warmth.

"Julian? Are you alright?" 

Someone purrs. That wasn't a Janitor. He looks through his shoulder to find Ticketbooth Clerk's face, just breath away from his. They must have fallen asleep, exhausted from all the crying; spooning, to fit on a narrow cot. He feels a little sting of embarrassment, but it's get buried under all the joy and warmth, so close to him. He can't remember if he ever felt so warm and cozy, like if soft light of thousand candles filled him inside. He wants to stay that way forever but...

"Can I come in?"

Mr Chouinard comes in. Janitor instantly frees himself from Nunnally's hand wrapped around him and gets to the door to slam them in Mr Chouinards surprised face. It is a bit late, don't you think?

Nunnally murmurs behind him: "What's going on?" 

Janitor looks at him, wishing he could just go back to this warm cuddle and pretend nothing outside the cot exist.

"Julian? I know you are zere. I just saw you. Both of you. Open the door, please?"

Janitor reddens and opens the door, only to pass Mr Chouinard and run out as fast as he can. He's your boss. He'll find you sooner or later. 

At the same time, Mr Chouinard stands startled in front of the janitor's closet.

"Where did he..."

"Good morning Mr Chouinard."

"Hmm. Yes. Good morning. Is everything alright?"

"Oh. Yes? Thank you."

"If you are in any trouble you can come up to me."

"I'm fine Mr Chouinard."

"Truly. I need my employees to be secured, to keep up good work. I can't let them be homeless."

"Homeless? I... have a place to stay, Mr Chouinard."

"Oh. I saw you a few timez after closing and I zought... Doesn't matter. So you weren't 'ere cos you don't have a place to stay?"

"No. I... Julian was... upset... after yesterday and I..."

"I see. Is he okay?"

"Yes, I think he'll be okay."

"Good. Good. I was worried. Coco was important to all of us."

"Yes. Yes, he... was. I wish... I had a chance to say goodbye. I just... He was my friend too..."

A sob shakes him. He covers his face, trying to control himself and not cry in front of management member. Mr Chouinard puts a hand on his shoulder. He was expecting to comfort a young man he'll find in the janitor's closet, but not this one. 

"It's okay to be sad. He was a great man. He left in peace. Happy even."

Ticketbooth Clerk clings to that thought as he starts to breathe slowly to recollect himself.

"Thank you. For telling me that. I... I think I should go now."

"Oh, yes, yes. Take it easy, b... young man, it'll get better."

"Yeah. Um... maybe I go look for Julian."

"Tell him I need to see him."

"Right."

"I'm glad he got a friend. You  are  friends, right?"

"I hope so."

Ticketbooth Clerk wents off. Tower is still closed, so he roams levels, completely alone, taking deep breaths. Just minutes ago he was in a calm, happy place, safe, where no one cared about his flaws and everything was alright. Now he is back in reality, especially cold and unwelcoming after awakening so close to someone who is not indifferent to him. At least there were someone else's problems to distract him from his own. 

But why did Janitor run away? Was he... embarrassed of them? They should talk about it sooner or later. It is not a good time but... they should come clean. He starts to look more attentive and, not seeing him anywhere on the Tower, Ticketbooth Clerk goes to the girders.

"Julian? Are you up there? Please, answer if you're there. If I'll go up I'm pretty sure I'll fall this time."

Answer him. You just left him to explain  you  to Mr Chouinard. You owe him at least this much.

"Julian?"

Janitor doesn't know what to say, so he starts to climb down, loudly, so Ticketbooth Clerk knows he is there. But hesitates before getting down to the observation deck. He feels safer here, close enough to the point which people might reach, where he could feel their presence but they're not able to see him. 

They stay like that, one floor apart, looking at Paris, waking to life in the morning sun. In a way, Janitor hopes that Ticketbooth Clerk left, so when he speaks it is without expecting an answer. 

"I'm sorry I get you into this."

"Into what?"

"This... everything. And then... um... left you. Is Mr Chouinard mad?"

"He was just worried."

"'You sure?"

"Yes. He wanted to talk to you. Mhhhh. I should go."

He sounds sad, clearly distressed and somehow disappointed for some reason. Janitor hesitates but gets down to see Ticketbooth Clerk. His face is slightly red and his eyes glazed. Janitor takes the other young man's hand and stops him.

"Wh... You've been crying?"

"Why did you run away?"

Janitor is stunned by this question and feels blood rushing to his face.

"I..."

He can't say a word. Explaining this escape would require telling about his feelings and to expose himself. Suddenly fear takes over him, when all the hatred people gave him over the years comes back. Only in his stories, he could say, loudly and with confidence, “my boyfriend”. Because people in his stories understood and weren't angry at him for being that way. 

He doesn't want Nunnally to hate him for it too. He doesn't want to hypnotize him and disappear either. 

So he lets go of Ticketbooths Clerk's hand and runs away.

Chapter Text

He was avoiding Mr Chouinard and Ticketbooth Clerk for the next few days, being especially careful, like in his first days on the Tower. He saw them coming over a few times, looking for him. They were calling him, checking all hiding spots they knew, visiting his closet at odd hours, hoping to find him there. So he found new hideouts and started to sleep hidden in the ducts, cos it was too cold to stay high on the girders. He could just leave the Tower, but for some reason couldn't bring himself to.

He's lurking around his closet, waiting to see if someone will come. All his things are there and his clothes started to get filthy and uncomfortable, he needs to change. If he gets there now they might find him there. But if he waits a bit and gets there right after they leave, he will have some time. Mr Chouinard came and knocked a few times, waiting for answer. When he didn't get any he waited some more. Then, hesitantly he got in, looked around and left, shaking his head. You should show yourself.

"I don't want to talk to them."

Just let them know that you're here.

"I screwed up so much this time."

And you should do something about it. Hiding won't help.

"I know."

You're going to lose your friends again.

"I know! I just... I don't know what to say to them, I don't know how to fix this, how I'm going to fix any of this?"

Julian, they're just worried. Remember how anxious you were when Coco disappeared? Or when you haven't seen Nunnally for a few days? Start small. Let them know you are fine.

"They'll be mad at me."

Or relieved to see you. You weren't mad when you found them.

"Ghhhh."

You should show yourself. Or do some work, they'll notice.

"I'll think about it."

Cautiously he approaches his closet. It is empty. Someone tidied it up a bit and straighten the bedding on a cot. They really care about you. 

That makes Janitor guts tighten with guilt. He tries to shake it by ignoring me and changing his clothes, as fast and quiet as he's able. When he's done he tries to put everything back, so the closet would look like he wasn't here. Weren't you supposed to give them some sign of life?

"Not like that."

As he leaves he notices a note, left by the door. He must have walked passed it when he came. It is addressed to him but he hesitates. Go on. At least you'll  know  what they think.

He reaches and reads it.

' Julian, I'm not mad at you. Please, come out and talk about it. N'

See? They want you to go back. You were doing so well before, you can be around people again. Don't you miss them?

"I'm not ready."

But he tries to show them he's there, without revealing himself. He starts by opening Eiffeil's apartment and hiding where he could see it. Ticketbooth Clerk came, looking very tired and resigned. He found himself surprised when he tried the door and it opened. He looked relieved, almost smiled. He went in, looking for the Janitor and played a few notes, hoping to encourage the other young man to go out. Then he left, leaving lights on, to help him look for the Janitor, who already escaped to the girders.

Somehow it didn't make Ticketbooth Clerk less worried. And Mr Chouinard was still looking for him. You know, he couldn't tell Mr Chouinard about the apartment. It is a secret, after all.

"Oh."

Even worse, the Janitor overheard ticket booth clerks complaining about mess around the Tower and Mr Chouinard, trying to justify it without explaining disappearance of the imaginary janitor. He has done so much for you, you shouldn't give him more trouble.

So Janitor started cleaning the Tower so they won't be giving Mr Chouinard hard time, but secretly, when no one would spot him. It make Mr Chouinard and Ticketbooth Clerk calmer but they didn't give up their search.

Knowing Janitor is opening an apartment, Nunnally started to wait for him. On the first day he stayed late, his back to the door. And he almost caught the Janitor - opening it, he almost woke Nunnally up but managed to hide, just before the other boy could grip what happened. Next time Ticketbooth Clerk rushed to the apartment right after work, only to find it already opened – Janitor did it earlier, when the last tourists were leaving, so he could start cleaning right away. They started this game and it was clear that the longer it lasts, the more both of them are losing. You can't hide forever. It is cold out there, he'll get sick.

"I need to open it. For him."

But you don't need to hide!

"It is too late. I don't know how to stop it."

Just show yourself.

"I don't want to."

And not being able to catch him when opening, Nunnally started to leave notes for him.

' Thanks for opening for me. Please, come out. N'

' I'm not mad. Please, show yourself.'

' I miss you spending time with you'

Until one morning...

He took the note with him. He was hiding on the girders all day, with pockets full of Nunnally's notes, looking at them, reading them over and over. Especially the last one.

' I can't do this anymore. I'll be here tonight. We should talk. Please, be there. N'

He shivers. It is very cold and he didn't eat since yesterday. You need to take care of yourself.

"I need to solve this."

It is not a puzzle. You just need to talk to him.

"I can't."

It might be your last chance. Remember how it worked last time?  This time  you can prevent it. Try. If it fails you can run away again.

Janitor sighs and stays at the girders until the clock bell rings Tower closing hour. He rushes down, stealthily, to open the apartment early. But he doesn't have the courage to stay in. He stays in the shadows, looking at Paris getting dark, until Nunnally quietly approaches the dark apartment. As he gets in, Janitor stealthy creps to the door, not to be seen. He waits, still not brave enough to get in. 

Ticketbooth Clerk is pacing around, clearly upset. After some time he sits at the piano and plays a few notes, like if he's trying to let Janitor know he's there. There is no clear melody in it but longing for real music is radiating from the young man. Despite that, he stops and waits. When he judges enough time passed he just starts to talk.

"I hope you  are  here. Even if not... I did what I could and... I need to say this, even if you won't hear it. I just... I really like you but... you don't make it easy, you know? Honestly, I want to spend time with you but... You have your... thing... about people and I get it, I'm shy too, and I want to help you, but... I did what I could not to scare you, and gave you time and show that... so you won't be... hmmm. And I thought... And I'm not sure if I can handle all of... this... right now. I don't want to give up on you but I'm not sure if I have the strength to carry on like this. I just need you to be there  for me  sometimes too."

"I'm sorry."

Janitor stands in the stain of light in the door. Ticketbooth Clerk jumps from his chair to greet him but when Janitor flinches he also hesitates and sits back down, looking at the carpet.

"Hi. Glad you made it."

"Um."

"How long you've been there?"

"A bit."

They stay in silence, not sure what to do next. Ticketbooth Clerk raises his gaze and starts to look at the Janitor expectantly. He's giving you space to explain yourself. 

"Sorry. I'm sorry for... all of this. That was childish. I shouldn't run away like that."

"Yeah. And hide. We were worried."

"Sorry. I'll... make it up to you."

"Okay."

"I... umm... owe you an explanation."

You do. 

"I run away... because... I... um..."

You can do this. Breathe.

"I... have... feelings... for you. I'm sorry."

"Oh."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't want to put you in this position. I just... And you are so... Um... And if you... um... want, I'll just stay away and won't bother you anymore I swear, just... If we could stay... if we are friends... Sorry, I'll go, just please... don't hate me."

Janitor looks up to see Ticketbooth Clerk's reaction. But the other boy is already near him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. And timidly whispers, right into his ear.

"I like you  that way  too."

Chapter Text

"I like you  that way  too. I would've told you that before but you... khm... I didn't have a chance."

They stay in a tight embrace, relieved and joyful, too shy to move, in case it would startle the other one.

Suddenly, Janitor's stomach starts to growl, which makes Ticketbooth Clerk laugh, hysterically. Janitor turns red and steps back from him.

"No, no, don't go" Nunnally wipes his eyes. "Sorry. We should grab some supper or something."

"I'd... love that."

"But don't think I'm gonna let you off that lightly. I know how... hard rejection can be and how scary it is to go forward like that but... I'm a bit hurt that you thought I'll be mean about it. I want you to know, you can trust me."

Janitor nods, losing himself briefly in Ticketbooth Clerk's gentle gaze and kind smile, which he hasn't seen in a while.

"I need you to promise me something."

"Umm... okay?"

"Whatever is happening, you'll be honest with me."

You can do that. Honestly. Why are you hesitating? 

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"Yeah. I'll do my best."

Now Ticketbooth Clerk is pausing to think before he decides:

"Good enough. Now, I'm too tired to... I forgot the word... argue but like not in an angry way... hmmm. We could talk about it over some food. I skipped dinner, I'm starving."

Janitor smiles faintly. He doesn't even remember when was the last time he ate.

They head downstairs, smiling as their fingers intertwine in a handhold. Ticketbooth Clerk stops before they leave into the night.

"Uhhh is it so late already? It won't be easy to find something. Don't you know any places around here?"

"I usually eat at the commissary."

"Really? I thought they only have drinks and pastries there."

"Um... They do."

"And you only eat pastries? That's unhealthy."

"Not only... I've been..."

You know place that will be open.

"But  they  might be there."

"What?"

"Sorry."

"Who'll be there?"

"People..."

"Sorry to break it to you, but it is Paris. There will be people everywhere. And if they're not somewhere, it probably isn't worth going to. We can try to grab some takeout if you don't want to be among people."

"No, it is not that. It... um..."

Nunnally patiently waits for the rest of this sentence, then realises something.

"Any particular people?"

"Mmmm."

"Are you hiding from someone?"

"Ummm..."

Janitor hesitates, scrambling his brain in search of a smart answer that will not give away the entire embarrassing truth. You're on the thin ice there. You  just  promised to be honest, remember? Fortunately, he gives up.

"Yes."

That was very brave. Ohh, I'm so proud of you! 

Nunnally also seems to be content with this new honesty between them. But he also sees how upset this topic makes the Janitor, so, God bless him, decides not to push more.

They walk aimlessly for an hour, passing over closed restaurants, opened clubs and bars, not able to bring themselves to enter loud, laughing crowds. As they both gave up on real meal, they managed to grab some roasted chestnuts from a loud street vendor, who thought that Friday night might bring some late snacks amateurs. They share a bag, passing it from time to time to warm up their hands. They peel hot chestnuts cautiously and munch sweet insides as they go.

"I think... I know this bakery. You would like it. I pass it every morning on my way to work. They got a few seats by the window and they serve the best tarts. And they have not only pastries, ohhh, those crepes and omelettes, with anything you want. But it won't be open till morning."

"I can... walk you home. And we can meet in the morning. For breakfast."

" 'You sure?"

"Yeah. It is very late and I kept you stay up for all those nights..."

"It was cold."

"I didn't want you to... I'm so sorry for this week."

Janitor is scared and concerned, but Nunnally laughs.

"Just... don't disappear again, okay?"

"Um."

Yes, please, don't. Would you think about it? You've been doing so well! Making friends with Coco and Mr Chouinard. And with Nunnally. And leaving the Tower. You even started to do better at cleaning. You should trust your friends more, they can't help you if you're not letting them. I can't be the only one to support you, I don't exist.

"Y're not helping. At least not right now."

Oh, God, don't answer at loud. Maybe he didn't heard.

"Julian? Do you know... that sometimes... you're murmuring things under your breath?"

Oh no, he did.

"Um... yes?"

"Would you tell me about it?"

"I have... Can I do that other time?"

"Can I ask why?"

"I... don't want you to think I'm a weirdo."

"But... you are."

"Oh."

"No, no, no. In a good way."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're... different. I like that. And... you should  allow  yourself to be that way. It's a gift."

"They... I've been always told otherwise."

"I'm sorry it happened to you."

"Um."

They walk the rest of the way in slightly awkward silence.

"Soo. It is me. I mean... my place. So, uhhh, see you at... seven, maybe?"

"Okay"

"Bye then."

"Bye."

They're attempting awkward goodbye, a mix of handshake, hug and kiss on a cheek, managing to collectively fail half of it. Janitor watches him go as Nunnally walks up to the door, waving and smiling at him.

With his heart lighter Janitor walks off, letting gentle stars and warm street lights guide him into the sleeping Paris. It went well, isn't it?

"Yeah."

See? He wasn't mad at you! He even likes you! A lot. Janitor blushes, a wide smile on his face. It feels so good when people like you!

"I feel like I can do anything!"

Even apologize to Mr Chouinard?

"Oh."

He sinks a bit but takes a deep breath and strolls towards the silhouette of the Tower. Cheer up. Fixing one thing made you so happy! Imagine how good it will be to fix all of them.

"Yeah."

He finds Mr Chouinard in the ticket booth. Janitor knocks softly and stands at the door, crossing his feet and nervously rubbing his hands.

"Mr Chouinard?"

"Mon Dieu! It's you!"

"I wanted to... um... sorry."

Mr Chouinard comes up to him and, to Janitor's surprise, hugs him. 

"Oh."

But as soon as he lets go, Mr Chouinard's face turns stern and he begins to shout:

"I was looking for you! ALL WEEK I WAS LOOKING FOR YOU! And you just disappeared! Nowhere to be found! I called ALL 'ospitals! Do you know how hard it was to do that  again ?! And they all thought I'm crazy, looking for a man, knowing only his first name and telling them he might not have any documents on him!"

"I'm sorry."

"And then the Tower started to get cleaned! ON ITS OWN. Or by ghosts! It was you?"

"Yes, Mr Chouinard."

"You made me look crazy again! Haven't I done enough for you, Julian?"

"Yes, Mr Chouinard."

"Why would you do that to me, Julian?"

"I'm so, so sorry."

"You should be! Don't you  ever  do that again! Or I'll fire you, for real zis time!"

"Yes, Mr Chouinard. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Good. Now, there is no need for crying. Are you okay now?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you do that?"

"I... hnnnnn... just thought you'd be mad. At me."

"You disappeared! Of course I was angry! I was worried, I didn't have a janitor and you weren't there!"

"I mean... for... uhhh... Nunnally. And me. Before."

"He's an employee, he can use tower property. In a reasonable amount, of course."

What?

"What?"

"I don't care who uses janitor's closet as long as you're not letting in ze Tower people from ze outside. You two want to stay overnight, fine, youth must have its course, I get it. Just don't let it interfere with work. And you're not drinking during your working hours, aren't you?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Good. Good. Now, before you go and clean ze Tower since you're still ze janitor here..."

"I will. Right away, Mr Chouinard."

"Good. I wanted to talk to you. We're looking for a new night watchman."

"Oh."

"And I need you, do you listen Julian?"

"Yes."

"I need you. To. Behave. You understand, Julian?"

"I... think so?"

"Mon Dieu. I need you NOT to do, what you did zis week. I need you to  meet  a new night watchman, to  let them know  where you are and not to... ghost them. Would you do zat for me, Julian?"

"I'll... um... I'll try, Mr Chouinard."

"Thank you, Julian, thank you. Now. You have a lot of cleaning to catch up. Of you go."

By the time he's done its past dawn. Janitor finishes nervously and storms to his closet to clean himself up a bit and at least change before running into waking streets. He isn't sure if he remembers a way to Nunnally's place. Streets look different than they did at night and he was quite distracted in a way there. And getting back was easy, as he navigated towards clearly visible Eiffel Tower. And he almost runs there, as he repetitively got lost after taking a wrong turn couple of times. By the time he gets there, it's almost eight.

Ticketbooth Clerk sits on the stairs, a bit anxious, but lights up as soon as Janitor runs into him, apologizing inconsistently.

"Julian, calm down, it's fine. It's fine we have lots of time. I'm glad you made it."

As Janitor catches his breath Nunnally looks at him.

"Are you okay? Good, lets go then. Oh, wait. You have something on your face."

And he reaches and brushes something from Janitor's cheek. They both turn red and Ticketbooth Clerk takes his hand back. 

"There. You can... Yeah. Must have been some soot from the stove."

"Mhm. Did I?"

"No, there is still a bit... Maybe..."

And Ticketbooth Clerk, with a little tentativeness, holds out his hand again and wipes the rest of the smudge from his jaw. 

"There."

"Thanks."

Ticketbooth Clerk hesitates, takes a deep breath and leans into him. Surprised Janitor joins in this gentle kiss, little panicked but also relieved, that he at least brushed his teeth before leaving. It's soft and tender, and lasts only a few seconds, sweet seconds in which time seems to stop.

"Good morning, Julian."

"Yeah... good... to you too."

Smiling and glancing at each other happily they head down the street. The bakery is small, quiet and atmospheric, with black and white tiled floor and a tall counter made of dark wood. They sit in the corner, enjoying each other's company and dishes, looking through the window as people are passing on their way to work and school. Janitor can't decide, so they order enough omelettes for four people. He eats most of them, encouraged by other young man, who's urging him that he needs to take better care of himself. 

As they stroll slowly to the Tower, their conversation goes from favourite food to their favourite things and Nunnally starts to speak enthusiastically about music.

"Music is one of the few things that had the power to make everything right."

"I remember that."

"Oh. Did I tell you about it?"

You were eavesdropping.

"Um... no. I... heard it somewhere."

Ticketbooth Clerk smiles understandingly and stretches his arms above his head.

"Ohhh, I didn't play in so long. I think I need it. I could... play for you. If you want."

They both blush a bit.

"Yeah. Yes. I would love to."

"So... tonight?"

Chapter Text

Janitor sleeps for the rest of the day. His closet is a bit cold – no one tended the stove so it was cooling for days. And even when fire plays in it vividly, it heats up slowly and lights little room more than heats it. As Janitor falls into his cot he finds it surprisingly soft and cosy after all those nights in vents and dark hiding places. But he barely has time to perceive that – almost immediately he slips into pleasant dreams of singing saws, floating pianos and songs, gleaming friendly with all colours, shining like stars. 

On the closing hour Janitor follows the last tourists down, at a safe distance, obviously. He waits in the Tower shadow as clerks are leaving. One of them notices him through the door.

“Ugh, can someone tell this guy that Tower is closed?”

“No, wait, that's Julian. He's a janitor here.”

“Really? Is he...” other clerk lowers his voice, but Janitor is too highly skilled in eavesdropping to miss that. “Is he waiting for us to leave the booth or something?”

“Um, no. He waits for me.” Nunnally explains. “I hope.”

“What for?”

“We have... an appointment. I should go. See you.”

They're clearly baffled and not sure what to make of it. Nunnally just smiles at them and walks to a hidden figure of the Janitor.

“Hi. Here. I wanted you to, you know, have some actual food.”

Nunnally brings some thick aromatic carrot soup with croutons. He kept it in a thermos so it is still warm when they share it, making a little picnic under the stars at the top observation deck. It tastes like a memory of the last summer days.

“I'm glad that you are here. Tower is beautiful at this time but also a bit scary to be all alone here. I always felt this otherworldly atmosphere when I was coming to play after hours. Oh, that reminds me, they are looking for a new watchman.”

“Um. Mr Chouinard told me.”

“You won't need to be here all alone every night.”

“Yeah. It would be nice.”

Janitor agrees, even tho he doesn't want a new watchman to keep him company. He would prefer to share the Tower at night with someone familiar and friendly, like Nunnally.

“Can I... How you took me off the Tower?”

“What?”

“You remember, that time, on the girders. How did you get me down?”

Janitor hesitates. Nunnally sees this and can't hide turning a little sad and disappointed.

“I remember that I was scared, but then you said that I don't need to because darkness won't let me fall but... That doesn't make any sense.”

“So... um...”

Whatever you do, don't hypnotise him!

“I know. It's... that thing... did I tell you about my greatgrandfather?”

“One that took you in when you run away?”

“Yeah. He was a stage hypnotist, an amazing one. He could do unbelievable things! He could like... convince hundreds of people to see or feel something that wasn't there. And I... I can too. I mean... At least sometimes someone... I can hypnotise someone.”

Ticketbooth Clerk looks at him, for a moment expecting to hear that it was a joke. When he realises it isn't, his gaze fixes on the darkness and he draws a slow and deep breath, as Janitor saw him do before when he was stressed.

“I... I know how it looks but I'm not using it  against  anyone. I just... I can't do much and sometimes you need any advantage you can get.”

As Nunnally is trying to process that, Janitor shares some of his greatgrandfather story, and then how he was using hypnosis – against bullies and to help Coco.

“And it worked.”

“So you're telling a story, people are forgetting where they are and you could suggest them to do things?”

“Um... mostly just run away when they are engrossed in it. I actually were able to...  ask  only you and Coco for something.”

As far as you remember. 

“I see. And I think I understand. But... it is still wrong that you haven't told me...”

“I'm sorry, I... panicked, didn't knew what to do. And it just popped into my head! I would never do that to hurt you.”

“Just... don't do that again, okay?”

He isn't scared anymore and puts his hand on Janitor's shoulder to let him know that. 

“Yes. Sorry. I... It's the only real skill I have. I wish... I could do something that would make people happy. Like you. With your music.”

“Ohhh, it is not the same. I can't alter someone's mind. I'm not that good.

“But you  are  good. Why aren't you playing in some orchestra or a band?"

He sighs.

“I love music but it's... And I love playing it. But as a job it's too competitive, you know? And I'm not good with that. But I'm fine like it is. As long as I can play I don't care if someone is listening. I mean... If there is, fine, I'll do my best, but it is perfectly fine if I'm the only audience my music gets. Or you are. It is enough for me."

They go up and reach the apartment. Janitor doesn't notice, he is too relieved that his ability to hypnotise someone didn't ruin another evening with Ticketbooth Clerk. Nunnally looks at him expectantly. He wants you to open it.

“Oh. Alright. Would you... yeah. I'll be right back.”

He rushes to the commissary and goes through the vents. He almost manages to land on his feet this time. He fails to brush all dust from his jacket and after a moment opens the door with a smile and a broad gesture.

“Come on in.”

“How did you...? How you did do it?”

“Um... I get... vents.”

That was so quiet  I  barely heard you. It's okay, tell him.

“Ughm... I get in through the heating ducts. From a commissary?”

“Oh my God! Really? Every time? I... I thought you have keys to everything, if I knew...”

“No, no, it's fine.”

Nunnally looks at the drop from the vent and doubts that. 

“This is dangerous! What if you fall and break something? What if you get stuck in there?”

“Oh. I never thought about that.”

Ticketbooth Clerk is covering his mouth with a fist, suddenly shocked and pained by the thought that he might have been the cause of someone's injury. But he doesn't want to be ungrateful so gives Janitor a concerned look and a brief kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. But please, don't do that again. I don't want you to die on a whim...”

“But you love playing music! And I love...”

“...all alone and trapped there. Just please...”

Janitor comes up to comfort him.

“I won't, I won't. I'll be more careful, I promise. And I can ask Mr Chouinard for a key, it might need cleaning or something. Or maybe he'll be okay with us coming here, he said it's okay.”

“Did he?”

“Sort of. I wasn't exactly sure what he was referring to, but he said that you can use Tower stuff but not too much?”

That is surprisingly close to what Mr Chouinard said but you might have missed the point.

Ticketbooth Clerk gives him a puzzled look, but accepts this answer and gets into the apartment. He sits by the piano. Janitor looks around at all the exquisite furniture. Even if he wasn't covered in the ducts' dust he wouldn't be able to bring himself to seat on them. It would feel wrong and definitely out of place. After a moment he settles himself on the floor, leaning back against the piano's side. Ticketbooth Clerk gives him a curious look and a little laugh. 

“Why don't you sit over there?”

“I'd like to be close to the music.”

And to the Ticketbooth Clerk. You're like a shadow, always keeping to the walls or sitting on the floor, always near him. Janitor blushes. 

Other young man runs his fingers over the keys and starts to play. Janitor recognises it as the first melody he heard Ticketbooth Clerk play. Nunnally is diffident at first, then he gets carried away by music. He looks more confident and competent. Janitor closes his eyes, focusing on the solo pianist, backed by an enormous orchestra in his head. For a moment they're both so lost in the melody, that when it stops they're both stay, waiting for what will happen next.

“The first time I heard you playing it I thought I'm imagining it.”

“What?”

“I heard it from a stove. It was... a very special moment. Like... magic...”

“Oh.”

They both blush and look at each other, sitting in silence. Didn't you came here for music?

“Oh, yes. W... would you play some more?”

He does. From time to time he glances at the Janitor, who, with his head rested at the piano side can't take his eyes off the pianist. 

“That one is new.”

Nunnally smiles.

“Yeah, I haven't played it in a while. Have you heard me all the times I was playing here?”

“Um... maybe? I think so. I can hear it in my closet.”

“Oh. It must have kept you up. Sorry.”

“I love it.”

“It must be nice to live so close to your work.”

“Yeah.”

“But it is also nice to go back home, you know? Stroll through the city, see all these lights and people... And music! There is so much music, all over you. Even when you don't expect it. Once I... I heard this melody.”

He plays a few notes. Janitor knows them! This is his song! The one he sang on the boat. How does he know it? 

“I heard it one night when I was going home. The Seine brought it to me.”

He giggles and his laugh is so delightful. 

“I really liked it, but it was distorted by echo and I caught only part of it. I was trying to find what it might be, but no one seems to know it. And... I haven't heard this river singer again. Or maybe it was something else and I only mistook it for a song.”

Janitor reddens. He heard you. And he liked it! This is your chance, you should sing for him! Tell him that you know this song. Or just hum. This is the thing only you can do for him. 

And the Janitor hums part of the melody! Nunnally, eyes open wide, listens, smiling with encouragement, trying his best not to interrupt. When he hears melody repeats he joins in, quietly, to sort out sounds and notes in his head. And after a bit, he starts to play it, a song that Janitor sang that night on the Seine. And the Janitor, lost in the melody, begins to sing.

Chapter Text

Janitor is stunned as Nunnally keeps showering him with questions.

“That was... I didn't know you can sing! How do you know this song? Is it yours?”

“Um... Just... from my head? From one of the stories. I think? I don't know.”

He was surprised and glad to find that they could make music together. They stay late, looking for songs they both knew, Nunnally encouraging Janitor to join him in music. 

After that, eager to sing with him again, but not wanting to worry Nunnally anymore, Janitor requested a key from Mr Chouinard, offering to clean apartment when needed. He didn't wanted to lie so decided it would be polite to ask for permission to use it. 

“Umm... Mr Chouinard? I wanted to ask... if... would it be okay if we use a piano there? Sometimes?”

“Use?”

“To play. Music.”

“Julian, it is a very precious, historically important instrument.”

“We won't break it, Mr Chouinard, I swear, I won't even touch it. Only Nunnally would play. He knows how and he's very gentle. With it. He's a ticket booth clerk, he's responsible.”

“Uhhh, where is he?”

Mr Chouinard agreed, only after Nunnally swore that he'll take responsibility regarding use of the piano. This gave them access to the apartment as frequently as they wanted but also put on the Janitor some new duties. Mr Chouinard judged he could entrust him with keys to  all  rooms in the Tower and obliged him to clean them on a complicated schedule.

Having keys and permission to access ticket booth brought another development – Janitor could make nice little gestures for Nunnally too. Every time he was tidying up in the ticket booth he would clean Nunnally's work station with additional care, every night making sure that it was ready for him when he will appear on the shift. All pencils were sharpened, papers ready to fill, all supplies restored, and occasionally there was a small gift waiting for him – a note, funny leaf, origami animal figurine made from a shiny candy wrapper. At first, some clerks were making fun of it, but seeing how Nunnally always was brightening up when finding them, they also started to notice sweetness and thoughtfulness in those little shiny “pieces of trash”. Some clerks even started to envy him a little this friendly ghost. 

***

“What would you say about going on a date?”

They were enjoying another late night supper at the observation deck, with their feet dangling over the edge through the railings.

“Oh. Aren't we...”

“Yes. But like a proper one, in new places and everything? There is this Wind's Daughter festival and I thought... I mean... so we could... go out together? Cos, you know, your shift kind off starts when mine ends or other way around if I'm at the morning one so... so if... khmm... but we can go in the afternoon and you could be back before work.”

“Oh. Right. Yes. I can just go whenever, as long as I clean everything before morning.”

I don't think so. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah”

You should ask Mr Chouinard. He might look for you when you won't be here. You are on the last strike, aren't you? He likes you, but he has his bosses. He  will  fire you if you're going to be so reckless. 

“Shhh. It will be fine. I can handle it.”

Or shout. He will definitely yell at you if he finds out you've been slacking again.

***

The day before their date Janitor cleaned his suit and hang it over the stove, in futile attempt to straighten it. That night he was cleaning diligently, working as fast as he was able, trying to make some extra work, expecting it will leave him fewer duties for tomorrow. By the time he's finished, sun is already up and the first wave of tourists climbs the Tower. Janitor is exhausted but content and hides in his closet to catch a few hours of sleep. But he is too excited to do so – he is turning in his cot, daydreaming about a day ahead. It is almost noon when he finally slips into actual dreams, filled with carousels, laughter and gentle, floating lights.

Janitor woke up nervous that he overslept – it was already past 3 pm. He spends a long time making himself presentable. It is hard to evaluate a result in dim light and reflections of the saws, but he settles with what he can get. Your shoes doesn't particularly match  the idea  of a suit.

“That's the only pair I have.”

Maybe leave the horrible tie? It would be less formal. Might actually look spiffy with sneakers. You know, modern. Hip and dashing.

“You think so?”

Mmmaybe? Let hope so.

Janitor strides down and paces by the booth, waiting for his date. As he waits, Nunnally spots him, smiles and gestures to give him a moment. Other clerks start to talk loudly, laughing, some whistle. Nunnally says goodbye to them with a shy, polite smile but it is clear he does not enjoy their jokes.

Nunnally also lets out a sound of appreciation as he sees him up close. Janitor blushes.

“You always look so nice and I thought...”

“Oh. Thank you. I wear a suit because I need to. To work, you know. I thought we can sidetrack a bit to my place, so I can change into something more comfortable before we go. But that works too.”

“I can change. And you can borrow something of mine. Or from the box.”

Ticketbooth Clerk looks surprised as Janitor points at the Tower's clothing donation bin.

“Did you... Ymmmm... No, just, hm. We can go like that. Elegant. Yeah. Like we're on serious business.”

Or some serious fun. What? It wasn't the best pun but I'm too distracted with what  they  were laughing about to come up with a better one.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Um... I... I don't think I want to know.”

“Julian. I don't mind the half conversation thing, but would love to be included? What is it?”

“The clerks. In the ticket booth. They seemed... Were they laughing at you?”

“Oh. You know...”

“Is it because of me?”

“What? No! I mean... Hhhh... So they think... my girlfriend... I broke up, actually no, she broke up with me, some time ago, and they think... that you're a rebound. But you're not! I swear! I'm really, genuinely  interested  in you. And I'm really glad...”

But Janitor isn't listening. He heard “girlfriend” and “rebound” and he sinks, worried and uncertain. Nunnally's hand on his cheek brings him back to attention.

“Hey. You spaced out. Don't worry about it. They're just idiots who like to taunt anyone they have occasion to. Julian. I don't care what others think about us.”

“Um.”

“W-would you look at me? You have no idea how grateful I'm for you. There is no one else I would rather be with right now. Can I?”

And he leans over and kisses him, to the accompaniment of more whistles from the ticket booth. When they finally part, he's beaming.

“Shall we?”

They're going out. Ticketbooth Clerk leads them, chatting about festival attractions and this place he often visits. Janitor notices that they're heading in  that direction  and grows nervous. He would prefer to avoid finding himself anywhere near that area. At least not yet. 

Wouldn't they all be around the stage at this time? As long as you don't get in there, you won't meet them.

“Um...”

“Sooo, okay? We'll go there after?”

“Yeah.”

However, you could both go there. Oh, just imagine, warm glow of the lights. You two on the stage together. He would play, you would sing. And everyone would just love it. Even Mr Cameron would be impressed by how good you sound together. And you get up to the front, his hand in yours and...

“What's on your mind?”

“What?”

“You've been doing this... thing. With your hands?”

“Was I? Oh.”

Janitor finds his hands in the air, where they were just seconds ago, when he was imagining his glorious performance. He puts them down immediately. People are staring at them, not sure if he is gesticulating wildly or just failing to do sign language interpretation. 

“Sorry for interrupting. I gesticulate to my thoughts too sometimes.”

And, so he isn't embarrassed alone, Nunnally takes his hand and starts to swing them, laughing. Grateful Janitor joins him. They giggle together, two grown man in suits, acting like schoolchildren.

“Ohh, I'm so excited! We had some festivals in our town but only small ones. I wasn't riding a carousel since I was a kid!”

They reach the street, busy with other couples, families and groups of friends. It is separated into three alleys, with various stalls on both sides of each passage. Little booths are lighted with strings of warm Christmas lights and full of colourful holiday goods - food, ornaments, gifts, toys and trinkets. It leads to a plaza with a little funfair and illuminated ferris wheel towering above it. They head in that direction, to try some rides first.

As they march through the market Janitor sees someone, a tall broad-shouldered man resembling Jaques. He immediately ducks down behind the stall. His heart is pounding as a big man passes him. He's incapable to look up, to see his face, as if keeping his eyes on the ground would make him invisible. In the meantime Nunnally, who was still talking to him, turns to look at the Janitor, finds that he's suddenly alone and spins around to see where his date went. He finds him, crouched by one the booths, cautiously observing a distant figure. 

Janitor jumps as he feels a hand on his shoulder and finds concerned Nunnally looking at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Um. Sorry.”

“If you... if this isn't a good day for you, we can come back another time.”

“No, no. I just... get distracted. By people.”

“People in general or  certain  people?”

“Y-yeah. I... thought I saw someone I know... knew. We can... We should go now.”

“If you think they can be here we can go elsewhere. I want you to feel safe.”

“I... It's fine. I can always hide.”

“Heh, yeah, you can. C'mon, I know what will cheer you up.”

They head towards carnival music and colourful rides. Nunnally's eyes are gleaming as he sees a big carousel, highlighted with lights and joyful music. Riding hand-carved, colourfully painted horses, Janitor almost falls as he tries to catch a brass ring.

After trying countless rides, they go on a ferris wheel. As the sun is slowly setting, wheel attracts lots of people but they manage to find a gondola, with just a little old lady, settling herself on the other bench. They climb in, excited, as neither of them ever rode on a ferris wheel before. Maybe Janitor did, he can't remember. They sit close and look out the little window, enjoying what seems to be a perfect moment. But as soon as little gondola moves, Nunnally squeezes Janitor's hand and, starting to get nervous, lets out a hysterical laugh.

“You okay?”

“I... Is it supposed to sway so much?”

“Oh. It will stop in a second.”

“Great. It wasn't that bad.”

“Um... it just stops to let in people into next car. It needs to go full circle.”

“Right. Sure. That's fine. I'm f-fine. It will end eventually isn't it?”

Janitor puts his arm around him. 

“If you close your eyes it's just like being on a swing.”

He does. Janitor holds him closer as the wheel goes up and stops again.

“Oh, thank God. We can...”

Nunnally stands up to leave but the wheel isn't even a halfway through. He falls back and Janitor catches him around waist. Then he puts one arm around him and points the other to something in the city.

“There! Look, look!”

“Wh-Don't... are-are you trying to hypnotise me?”

“What? No! I wouldn't! Just wanted to show you, there, look, the Tower. We can't see it  from  it. Oh, I can't wait to view it from the top.”

“Y-yeah.”

God, he's scared. And it isn't even that high yet.

“Sorry. Though it'll help to divert your attention with something. Like...”

“Sure. Thanks. It  is  nice here. But I thought it will be more steady. It just goes so slooow.”

“Um... how about...”

And he puts another arm around him. Their eyes meet as Janitor leans closer to whisper into other boys lips “...a distraction”. Their kiss is a bit sloppy at first, as they are getting used to each other. But soon Janitor puts his fingers through Nunnully's hair to gently angle his face, to lead him and also make sure he won't see the city, dizzyingly spinning beneath them. Ticketbooth Clerk, his hand around other boy's waist, pulls him closer, reminding himself to breath. As gondola stops again so are they. 

“Though that will take your mind off it.”

“Yeah. That's... that's better. Wow. What a view.”

“Beautifull, isn't it?”

They both jump, startled by the third voice and look up at the smiling little old lady, pointing at the lights bellow. They both turn crimson red.

“Don't mind me, boys. I'm here to enjoy the view.  Paris  looks quite splendid from that angle.”

It does. And sun sinks below the Eiffel Tower putting on a subtle spectacle of fading colours. 

As the ride continues, Janitor starts to point at more places he likes to look at from up high. He does that, distracting Nunnally with silly stories until wheel approaches the bottom.

“Oh, you could use some of that before you leave, young man.”

Little old lady rummages through her purse to produce a comb, which she offers to Nunnally, although looking pointedly at Janitor's always dishevelled head.

They give her polite thanks and, trying not to laugh at the situation, tidy themselves a little. As the ride ends they help the old lady out and she comments on it:

“Thank you, thank you. Look at you, boys, so elegant, so well mannered.”

They wave to her awkwardly as she disappears in a crowd.

“That was...”

“It was fun.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Wasn't expecting to react like that.”

“That's okay.”

“But lets... let keep to the other things. On the ground.”

“Um. Oh my God, can you smell it?”

“ What?  What?”

“Corn! With butter! Ohhh, I was dreaming about it! Could we...”

“Hh. C'mon, let have some. I think we're done with rides anyway.”

They find a little free table and observe passing crowds, enjoying raclette and sipping mulled wine from tin cups. This, and Nunnally's face when he recalls his hometown festival, makes Janitor pleasantly warm inside. 

“I hope that this isn't happening only in my head.”

Nunnally chuckles and takes his hand.

“If so, we have to do that again sometime.”

They go arm in arm, strolling through the crowd, nibbling on some baked apples, treating themselves to matching pairs of thick woollen socks, to warm them when staying in the janitor's closet. Later, as Ticketbooth Clerk is chatting with the vendor and picks perfect jar of fruit jam for his Landlady, Janitor wanders off a bit to a nearby stall as something catches his attention. It is a small, little scratched thing, which, for some reason, makes his heart beat a bit faster. Vendor kindly ensures him that shiny item is working and places it in Janitor's shyly outstretched hand. Young man buys a little trinket and joins Nunnally, who finally managed to choose a jar of quince-orange marmalade, judged to be a proper apology for his recent late returns. 

Since they still have some time, they go back to enjoy some carnival games. Finally, they stop at one stand, occupied by a bulk guy failing to prove himself to a bored and disconcerted young woman. 

“Step aside,  I'll  win you a prize, babe.”

He takes his shot and misses terribly, swearing every time he can't strike a pyramid of bottles. After last failed attempt, he turns to the girl, notices waiting couple and spites at them: 

“What are you looking at?”

A young woman rolls her eyes, apologizes to them and leaves harshly, chased by the guy, who did not realise yet that his date is over.

But Janitor does not pay any attention to that. He stares at the game prizes and mighty stuffed polar bear between them. Nunnally catches this and takes him by a hand.

“You like it?”

Janitor just nods, without taking his eyes off kindly smiling muzzle. Other boy leans over to him and whispers:

“Let's win you a prize,  babe. “

They both chuckle and pay some tickets to take their shots. They are terrible at it, second and third attempt also. And, as they're taking the last shot, fooling around as they gave up at winning, they collide and fell over, to the loud crash on the other side of the counter. They help each other to their feet, laughing and trying to brush dirt covering their suits and jackets. They are greeted by a shocked vendor, uncertain how  all  of the bottles fell down, especially ones glued to the table. Seeing their grins, he just sighs and indicates with a gesture that they can choose a prize if they just leave.

“Um. You won it. You should take him.”

“Nooo, we can't have animals in the house. Keep it. I'll visit  him  at your place.”

Nunnally picks a white plushie as the other young man looks at it, speechless, his eyes gleaming. Janitor holds his breath as he takes polar bear and looks into tiny shiny black eyes with absolute joy. Only after a moment he snaps himself out of delight and looks at Nunnally as he says:

“Gosh. You are so beautiful when you smile.”

Janitor blushes. 

“Oh my God, I said that out loud, didn't I?” He laughs. “I'm turning into you.”

“You... really?”

“I can't help it, you have a smile like a movie star when you're happy. The cutes smile I ever saw. Yeah, that one.”

Chapter Text

Late in the evening, Janitor walks Nunnally home and takes a nice walk to the Tower, with a belly full of goodies and a polar bear draped on his shoulders like a scarf. He's dreamily looking at a beautiful world around him, filtered by warm lantern light diffused by thickening mist. He reaches Tower's grounds, thinking about this lovely evening and Nunnally – happy, cute, wonderful. 

Suddenly he's blinded by a beam of light. 

"Hey, you! Stop right there!"

Janitor freezes. Light shifts, revealing a crude-looking man holding a flashlight. 

“You can't be here. Tower is closed.”

“I know. I need to get in, I'm a janitor here.”

“Yeah, right. Coming to work dressed like this?”

“Oh. I was... on a date. But I'm back now.”

“Nice try, dandy. Just go home, you're drunk.”

“But... I live here.”

Man smirks. Oh-oh.

“Yeah, yeah. Scatter. Before I'll kick you out of here.”

Janitor sighs.

“Did you know that whales got the biggest ears but the most acute hearing...”

“Man, I don't care what are trying to pull here, if you don't leave right now, I'm calling the police.”

Don't get arrested!  They  definitely won't believe you. 

Janitor's heart sinks. He sits down on the ground. All warmth, excitement and adrenaline this evening gave him evaporates instantly. Suddenly, being awake for almost forty hours hits him and he's too tired to think or do anything else. He would really like to go to bed now. Hypnotizing this man was his last chance, but apparently he doesn't listen, thinking that Janitor is drunk and babbling nonsense. 

“Is... is Mr Chouinard here?”

“No.”

“I'll wait for him”

“No, you won't.”

To emphasize that he means it, the new night watchman approaches threateningly, weighting a flashlight in his hand. Janitor flinches, terrified, expecting a blow, a familiar mist is overcoming his senses, as rushing blood starts pulsing in his ears.

“No, please, don't.”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Janitor scrambles to his feet, murmuring some pleads and stumbles into the night, feeling other man's watchful eyesight on his back. He wants to run but is too tired to do so. To get this night off he was doing some extra work during the day and slept only an hour or two, too excited to fall asleep. And now sleep is the only thing he can think about.

It's not raining but he feels drenched. Dense mist, which was giving the city charming quality, was settling on his jacket and making steady progress through layers of fabric until it reached a skin. He shivers. There is an archway nearby, where he can sit on the stairs and get at least partial cover from the elements.

Maybe you could go back to the Ticketbooth Clerk's place?

“He'll be asleep by now. And I don't think  they'll  let me in.”

You could try to sneak in. But he shivers, his teeth chattering so much that there is no chance of being stealthy.

“Y-yeah. Mmmaybe. J-just... in a minute. I'll just... t-take a little nap and try lat-t-ter.”

To get an illusion of warmth he puts up his collar. As it didn't help too much Janitor trembles, hugs a polar bear tighter and drifts off. 

He's awakened by a broom, hitting him. An old lady who holds it swears at him, cursing drunks, constantly falling asleep at her doorstep instead of their own beds.

As he reaches the Tower, the new night watchman stops him again. Mr Chouinard isn't there but one of the clerks, who came earlier, recognises the Janitor and tells suspicious man to let him in. 

“I don't care who he is, he's drunk. That leads to accidents and I won't take responsibility for it. He can't be here.”

“He  lives  here. Tell you what, mate, I'll walk him to the janitor's closet, to make sure he doesn't jump off the Tower, aye?”

Janitor does not need to be walked but accepts this. He's too cold and tired to argue. As they go up in the elevator, clerk stares at him with a poorly hidden smirk.

“I see that you had a spree with our Nunny yesterday, aye?”

Janitor gives him a tired look but also a little nod, hoping that would be a sufficient answer. As he enters his closet, curious clerk is trying to peek in, but Janitor just murmurs some “thank you” and shuts the door. Fire is out and a tiny room is only a little warmer than the outside.

***

Polite knock. It's the Ticketbooth Clerk. 

“Oh my God, it's cold here. You forgot to stoke the stove? Here, I brought you some vegetable fritters.”

Janitor murmurs, half awaken. He sits on his cot, still in a suit, blanket over him. Ticketbooth Clerk doesn't pay this much attention as he chatters and adds some wood to feed fading fire.

“Um, and... Julian? What did you told them?”

“'at?”

“Ticket booth clerks. They were making comments, all day, asking what we  did  that I kept you up till morning? Did something happened after? Are you okay?”

“Mmm. Just... Um.”

Nunnally turns from the stove.

“Julian, you worry me. What's going on? Are you hangover after one cup of wine?”

And a night on the street.

“New night watchman didn't let me in.”

“What? Why?”

“I think... he never saw me before. And thought I was drunk.”

“Were you? We haven't drunk  that  much.”

“No. I just... was cold and tired. I... slept on someone's doorstep.”

He sniffs.

“Aww, poor thing. Come here.”

Ticketbooth Clerk sits on the cot to hug the Janitor, letting other boy rest his head on his shoulder. As he does, Nunnally presses his cheek to Janitor's forehead to check for fever, then puts a little kiss there. 

“You'll be fine.”

“Mhhm. Don't go.”

“I won't.”

And he falls back asleep, wrapped in Nunnally's arms, resting head at his chest, dozes off into the melody of the other young man's breath and heartbeat. 

In his dream he's hugged by a smiling polar bear, soft and warm, humming soothing songs. And as he cuddles up in its fur, it starts to smell with a pleasant, tasty flavor.

“Julian. Wake up. You should get ready for work.”

“Mhhhhhh.”

“C'mon sleepy head. You should eat something before you go.”

“Mmmm.”

“I stoked the stove and put fritters on it, they'll be warmed soon. You should get some pots, you could cook here.”

“Um.”

Janitor sits up, still sleepy and confused. He feels something pressed to his forehead and looks up into Nunnally's face.

“Hello. Get ready. I have to go home today.”

“Um.”

As soon as Ticketbooth Clerk leaves, the Janitor falls back on his cot.

“I heard that.”

Ticketbooth Clerk pokes his head through a door and stays there, smiling patiently, until Janitor drags himself out of bed and starts to dress. He's almost as efficient in looking after you as I'm.

As soon as he's ready, Janitor sneaks downstairs, hoping to find Mr Chouinard. He's there, already talking with the new night watchman. Janitor stops and takes a few steps back. What are you doing?

“I... I'll come back to talk to Mr Chouinard when he'll be alone.”

But it is too late. They already saw him and Mr Chouinard waves at him to come in. Janitor takes a deep breath and approaches them reluctantly, avoiding their stares.

“Oh, zere you are. I was looking all over for you!”

“Sorry, Mr Chouinard.”

“Doesn't matter. 'ere, sit down. Mr Ainsley, this is Julian, our janitor. You'll be working together.”

Janitor raises his gaze and nods hurriedly, then looks back at his hands, squeezing his fingers.

“We've already met. As he was trying to break into the Tower.”

“What?”

“...didn't...”

“He was drunk.”

Janitor was barely able to say anything before, now can't make any sound. He gives Mr Chouinard a pleading look, expecting any help. And disappointment at his face makes Janitor protest, in a very small voice, barely audible.

“Was just tired.”

Mr Chouinard tries to hear them both and get to the truth. But even for him it is hard not to take nightwatchman's thorough arguments over Janitor's pathetic one-word explanations. Young man is terrified, fidgeting and trembling, looking at his shoes and talking in a small voice. Whenever the new night watchman speaks he can't help but get tenser, only after a second reminding himself no one attacks him. 

“How could I know that he wasn't lying? People are trying the stupidest excuses to get to places they're not allowed in. I thought he was another drunk idiot!”

“Wasn't.”

“The fuck could I know? He was dressed in a dirty suit, draped in some ridiculous toy, rotting of booze and tottering!

Oh, no, no, no. Honestly. That is an unfair exaggeration. Tell them or I will.

“One glass... Mr Chouinard, I swear.”

“Mr Ainsley. Julian might not be the most eloquent, but he's a valued employee and friend. I trust him. And I encourage you to do the same.”

“Right. But if I catch him again...”

“Julian  promised me  to behave properly and I expect you both to do so. Could we try to be professional? Now, Mr Ainsley, if you can excuse us. Julian, I need to talk to you.”

“I'll go on my patrol.”

They wait for new night watchman to leave. Only then Mr Chouinard stands up and starts pacing around the ticket booth.

“Mon Dieu. Like children!”

“Sorry, Mr Chouinard.”

“Not  entirely  your fault. We could prevent that. Where have you been yesterday, I was looking for you all evening?”

“I... came back late. Won't happen again, promise, I... um.”

“Is everything alright? You look sick.”

“Just... um. I'm fine now.”

“Mhm. You and Mr Ainsley don't seem to get on well. That is not good.”

“Sorry.”

“He treats his duties very seriously. But he's not a bad person.”

“...um.”

“But, Julian, if he'll give you any more trouble, come to me, alright? I need you both right now.”

“Yes, Mr Chouinard.”

“Good. We need a professional guard 'ere now, people from the show wanted assurance that if they leave equipment here, it will be safe.”

“The show?”

“Oh, yes, some theatre troop wants to do some performance in the Tower. But that will be in a couple of weeks, no need to worry. But you might want to put some extra work then and there, to prepare the venue. There will be lots of people in the Tower, some celebrity guests and all that. Can I count on you?”

“Y-yes, Mr Chouinard.”

“Good. Good. Now, go, the staircase is an absolute mess.”

Janitor keeps in the shadows, doing his job, avoiding the new night watchman. He's easy to avoid – heavy footsteps and beam of light always announce his arrival. Janitor is quite content with this feature – if he doesn't get distracted maybe he can manage to always work in an empty part of the Tower and he won't need to face that scary man ever again.

Discovering that calms Janitor down a bit and fills him with some courage. When alone he is filled with energy - he slept all day and ate loads of warm fritters. He finishes earlier and, not being tired yet, starts to tidy up his closet. Maybe you even do some laundry.

“Yeah, why not.”

As he collects his things, doors swing open. He's caught in a flashlight light and his heart stops.

“Oh. So you  are  here.”

“I...”

“I was looking all over for you. Where have you been?”

“H-here?”

New night watchman enters, blocking the exit. He looks around, pointing his flashlight at various corners of the closet, even tho it is lit by fire from the stove and a pale glow of a dusty lightbulb. At last, he points his light at the Janitor's feet and stares at the young man, who didn't move since the door opened.

“You really live here?”

“Um... Y-yes.”

Calm down. I'm sure Mr Chouinard should still be downstairs. He'll hear and help you if the night watchman will do anything.

“Must be awful. Mmmm. Fine. Get any rag? I spilt some coffee.”

“Y...yeah. I'll... go there... to it...”

He stutters it but doesn't move. It's okay. Just rise your eyes, so you can see him. That's right. He is not doing anything, see? And he's not hostile, maybe a little impatient. Put your things down, in the middle of the room is fine, it's your room after all, you'll pick them up later. And now go. Take the mop, that's right, and the bucket. Great. See? He moves from the way. And Janitor passes him, very bravely, holding his breath and trying not to leave a horrible man behind his back.

“Wh...w-where?”

New night watchman leads them down to the commissary. He points at the stain and broken ceramic, then watches carefully as the Janitor cleans it and, when finished, just stands there, not sure what to do next.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no. I'll go.”

As the young man leaves, the new night watchman sighs loudly.

“Hey!”

Janitor stops and turns, slowly, looking at his feet.

“Listen, man. Sorry. For not letting you in the other night. That's the job, you know?”

“Um.”

“You should have employee ID on you or something.”

“I'll... um.”

“Jeez, what is wrong with you? Are you stoned or something?”

Janitor looks at him, absolutely terrified. He's too far to reach you, calm down. Nothing happened. Remember what you promised Mr Chouinard!

“I'm... fine. '… go.”

And as politely as he can, he turns and steps out, forcing himself not to flee as fast as he can. When he's sure he's out of the new night watchman's sight, he runs back to his closet and shuts the door. Breath. It's fine. He didn't went after you. You are behind a closed door. And you should get a lock. Or block them somehow when you're in.

“Yeah. Yeah. That's...”

And he moves some crates and weights them with cans and other stuff. That won't help, but don't tell him. Julian, you should calm down. Distract yourself with something. Maybe a story.

“Maybe... maybe later.” There is no one there, but he whispers, not to be heard. “When he leaves. I can... I can wait on the girders. I'll be safe there.”

And cold. How about finishing that laundry? The employees' restroom got a lock. And having fresh socks would be nice.

“Mmh.”

He sneaks out, pressing a bag full of clothes against his chest. It's been a long time since he was hiding in the shadows on the Tower to avoid his terrors. He lets the breath out only after locking the door behind him. He does his laundry slooowly, not making any sound. Janitor doesn't own much, so even washing everything twice and carefully wringing out each item still gives him plenty of time until morning. As he no longer have anything to do to distract himself, a little bathroom suddenly makes him claustrophobic. He sits under the door, taking as less space as possible to mitigate this feeling. Breath. You can leave, at any moment if you need to. New night watchman is not that bad. He didn't hit you. Wasn't even yelling at you this time. And I'm sure he didn't see you come here. It's fine. 

“I... know. I'm safe here. No one will get in.”

Despite that, he's terrified. He's too agitated now, too tense with anticipation, expecting to hear those horrible footsteps at any moment. He shields his head with trembling arms, covering his ears to drown out a rising rumbling, which is mostly an echo of his speeding heartbeat. Bearing fingers in his hair, he finds a tangle in them and focuses all his attention on it. It doesn't help. He would very much prefer that it was Nunnally's hand stroking his head, calming him down. Right now he wishes, more than anything in the world, not to be alone.

Chapter Text

In the morning he creeps into his closet. For a moment he is distracted by things to be done – stove to tend, laundry to hang, mess to tidy up. Then he just stands there, anxious, clinging fists on his jacket. Tower started to feel like home. He was safe here and there were friendly people who cared about him, people dear to him. And then he found himself back  home , where heavy footsteps were announcing fear and pain.

Julian?

“What?”

Aren't you tired? You should sleep. No one will hurt you. New night watchman might be a bully but he's gone now. 

“Um.”

He tries to sleep, hugging stuffed polar bear for protection. But he jumps at every louder noise made by the tourists. Neverending rumble on steps and decks surrounds him with hostility. After a few hours of turning in his cot, he gives up on sleeping and decides to go down. He sneaks quietly, even tho there is no need to hide now. Nunnally isn't there yet. Janitor waits, nervously.

When Ticketbooth Clerk finally arrives, Janitor hesitates. Should he bother him? He's not even sure how to describe the problem. But before Janitor makes up his mind, Ticketbooth Clerk notices him and approaches.

“Hi! I wasn't expecting... Are you alright? You look like you need a hug.”

Janitor just nods.

“Would you tell me what happened?”

Ticketbooth Clerk's voice is so soft as he embraces him. 

“N-new night watchman.”

“What? What did he do?”

He didn't do anything. He just wasn't nice. 

“I... umm. Just get scared. It's... Thanks. It's fine now.”

“You sure?”

“Um.”

“I'll see you tonight, okay? We can play.”

Nunnally hesitates but leaves to work. Janitor stays to observe him, as he offers tickets and politely smiles to the strangers. Janitor wants to be near him. But people are giving him looks so he ducks into the shadows of the ticket booth. He can't see clerks from here. Then, making sure no one is looking, he climbs on the roof and lies down on it, to at least hear him. He promised Nunnally he won't climb into heating ducts again, so he just curls near the vent. There is so much noise all around him, but the Ticketbooth Clerk's voice stands out, so lovely and calming. Maybe Janitor hears it only in his head, but it comforts him and he slowly drifts out. 

After what feels like a blink of an eye someone calls from the ground:

“Um... Hello? Is someone there?”

Then some quieter voices:

“I told you they were lying. Why would someone be o n the top  of the booth?”

“What if it is a body? Should we call the police? Or a manager?”

“Julian?” calls the most familiar voice. “Is it you?”

He sighs and sits at the edge, his face red and hot with embarrassment. He feels like a school kid, caught on a prank. Lots of people are watching now. Nunnally just asks softly:

“Maybe you want to go inside?”

Janitor would love to. But it would be silly to just sit in the ticket booth, starring at Nunnally's back, avoiding other clerks' surreptitious stares. He tries to lower his gaze but beneath him is a group of concerned clerks.

“I'll... was cleaning it. Um... just go. Sorry.”

Janitor jumps down and slowly goes to the Tower, hearing behind him rushed conversation between clerks. Hand on his shoulder stops him. He flinches but it's only Nunnally, very worried.

“What's wrong?”

“Sorry. Should get some sleep.”

But Ticketbooth Clerk embraces him tightly and starts to pet his head. 

“I won't let you go until you tell me.”

It takes all Janitor's strength  not  to let out a sob. 

They stay this way for a long time. It is all he needed. But people are staring at them even more now, so he stutters:

“You... you know how... sometimes... you have a... a nightmare? And... and it stays? Even during the day? I just...  sigh ”

“You need some rest. Go to bed. I'll be here if you need me. Just shout and I'll be there in a heartbeat, okay?”

“Um. Thanks. You're the...”

Sweetest? Kindest? Caring. No one cared about you like that before. 

“I love you.”

Ticketbooth Clerk answers with his sweetest look and gentlest kiss.

“I love you too. You'll be fine. Mhm?”

Janitor nods and leaves, throwing glances over his shoulder, as Ticketbooth Clerk waits, with the warmest expression on his face. 

Janitor reaches the Tower and lots of people are looking at him, as he hurriedly climbs the stairs. They are all talking and laughing, and even tho he  knows  they couldn't have seen them, he can't help to feel they're laughing at him. As he can't take it anymore, he just runs up the stairs, out of breath, to run away, to hide on the girders. Up high he feels safer. He doesn't even notice as the sky gradually goes orange, then grey, then black. 

“Julian!”

Nunnally's voice snaps him out of pointless thoughts. It must be very late. The other young man is looking for him. Then, another voice calls out:

“Hey! Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Oh! Hi. Good evening. I'm... I'm Nunnally. I'm a ticket booth clerk here.”

“Ticket booth is closed. Did you forget something or what?”

“Um... I... I have permission to use the piano after hours. To... practise.”

“Piano?”

“Yeah. The one in the Eiffel's apartment?”

“Then why are you here?”

“I was looking for Julian. The janitor. He...”

“What for?”

“...has keys. He has keys. He helps me.”

“Have you checked the janitor's closet? Bugger lives there.”

“Um... Khmm... He wasn't there. He's probably cleaning upper deck. I'm sure I can find him. Have lots of experience in it.”

“Right. So... You know him? Is he... you know. Weak on the head or something?”

“What? No! He's just... quiet. And sensitive.” Janitor can hear a smile in his voice and that makes him warmer. “He just needs some time to get used to new people. Coco... we were very  attached  to the previous night watchman. It's a great loss and a big change.”

“Mhhh. I see. Right. Let me know when you'll be leaving. And if you'll be ever staying late, I need to know that. I can't constantly chase people who are permitted to be here. Someone might sneak up here when I'm running after you, lot.”

“Oh, of course, sorry. Won't happen again.”

Loud footsteps and a beam from the flashlight move away and the night watchman disappears downstairs. 

“Julian? Are you there? He left.”

“Um.”

As he climbs down, Nunnally exclaims in a quiet voice.

“Oh, thank God you're there. I ran out of places to look.”

“Sorry. I just...”

“Yeah. I see what you meant. He isn't the most pleasant person.”

“Um.”

“But I still don't get it. What happened?”

“N-nothing. He... um...”

“He's rough and a bit rude but not threatening. Has he done something to you? Cos you seem... It really hits you hard.”

“Did... Have I told you about my stepfather?”

It takes him a long time, full of heavy pauses and calming breaths to tell Nunnally about his parents' house and the reasons he run away from it. He tells it in a way he always recalls his childhood – with a slight enthusiasm and smile but also fear and pain, creeping from every incident. Ticketbooth Clerk is a patient listener. And now, more than ever, when Nunnally adds reactions to it, Janitor notices how heavy his story is. 

“And... and I know that watchman doesn't mean it but... he is so much like him. It's just... I'm scared. And it is so hard to stop.” As he says it he instinctively raises his arms to protect his head. Only after a moment, he realise what he's doing and tries to pretend it is a shoulder relaxing stretch. “But...  sigh . It's okay. I just need to stay away from him. Thank you. For being here. You should go home. I didn't meant to keep you that long.”

“You sure? I can stay. If he triggers you that much...”

“I feel much better now. Thank you.” He smiles. “I'll be more worried about getting you in trouble with your Landlady again. You already came back late yesterday. Don't worry. I think I'll be fine now. I'll be cleaning in a commissary tonight. I can easily hide there if anyone will come.”

Suddenly, a thud from downstairs startles them both.

“See? I would be worried about you running into night watchman again, you would be worried about me getting through dark streets, on my own, all alone.” As he sees Janitor's terrified he starts to ensure him “Oh God, no, no, no, don't worry. Sorry, that went awful. You were walking me home a few times, you saw. It is perfectly safe. But I can stay, problem solved. At least for tonight.”

“But... hmmm.” Janitor really wants to protest, but  even more  he wants to have the Ticketbooth Clerk near him. He gives up. “Okay. But you need to be rested for tomorrow. There are so many people on weekends. I'll be fine.”

They reach the closet. As Ticketbooth Clerk prepares himself for sleep, Janitor reluctantly picks some tools, fighting urge to just jump under the blankets and stay inside. You need to work. They are expecting a health inspection at the commissary, everything must be perfectly clean. You promised to help, remember? They are counting on you. It'll be fine. You'll sort it out quickly and he still will be here when you come back.

Janitor sighs. He knows I'm right. He slowly goes out but turns at the door to see Nunnally smiling at him, putting a polar bear on a cot beside himself.

“I'll be here if you need me. Just wake me up, okay?”

“Um. Thanks.“

They kiss goodnight, which gives Janitor some more courage. He leaves and looks around, trying to locate the new night watchman. Noticing a flashlight pointing from other observation deck, he sneaks in opposite direction, keeping in the shadows. It is harder than usual as he is jumpy and weighted by lots of cleaning supplies. Getting to the commissary while avoiding the new night watchman, pressing against the wall at every sound, takes him half an hour. 

No one is here. He closes the door soundlessly, puts tools down and starts to clean the dim kitchen. After a few hours, as he did everything in his power to tidy up at the back, he moves into the hall. Janitor even starts to enjoy peace and quiet, ducked down, scrubbing some chewing gum from under the tables, remembering one of his greatgrandfather's stories. He doesn't notice the new night watchman entering the commissary until some light blinds him. 

“Hey man. Was lookin for you.”

Oh no! It is too late to hide now! Janitor freezes and fixes his gaze on the new night watchman's hands, ready to flee at the sudden movement of that flashlight. 

“We didn't started the best way, but I guess if we are going to work together we should get along.”

He seems to expect some answer so Janitor nods hesitantly, clutching fingers on the scraper handle and a rag.

“I... heard what you told that clerk. Rough stuff.”

Janitor doesn't react, waiting for 'but' following that statement and usual scolding. He heard, so many times, that whatever  problem  he can have, it is not an excuse for anything that he  must do  now. But the new night watchman is silent. And his look is more concerned than impatient. I think he gives you time to reply.

“Oh. Um. Y-yeah?”

That's a start. And long silence that follows feels a little less uncomfortable. The new night watchman realises that it is all he will get.

“Anyway... Yhm. Carry on.”

And as he is at the door he adds: “And sorry for scaring you, man. I'll try not to.”

Chapter Text

Janitor and the new night watchman were slowly getting used to each other. They reached a silent agreement  not to  get into each other's way. New night watchman would patrol the Tower on fixed hours and routes, to make himself easy to avoid and give the Janitor enough time to work undisturbed. Janitor was grateful for that. From time to time he would show himself to say a hurried “hi” or inform the new night watchman that tonight he will be cleaning certain places so the other man won't be alarmed by movement or noise there. And, hopefully, he'll avoid those places and don't startle the Janitor. 

Nunnally started to stay on the Tower every other or third night and that helped too. Ticketbooth Clerk was finding enough of plausible excuses but Janitor suspected that he did it to make  him  feel safer. Tonight again, they were playing late and Nunnally decided that it was  too windy  to go home.

“I'm staying here so often that maybe we should start splitting rent” he giggles.

Oh, I'd love to see that. What's the half of 'was I supposed to pay any rent?' But Janitor's gaze goes soft as he pictures them living together, sharing a small but cozy apartment. Sunny, always warm and smelling of coffee every morning. With a piano, of course, and a bit old, but comfy couch, and a cat, and a dog and... He realizes what he's doing, goes a little red on a face and tries to change the subject.

“W-would you pass me a can of polish? I should go... clean... a thing.”

Nunnally helps him look for it and something catches his eye. He picks it up and examines a little thing.

“Didn't knew you have a fancy lighter.”

“A what?”

Janitor sees what the other boy is holding and gets red.

“Oh. You weren't supposed... So there is... I was waiting for...  sigh  We have this Wind's Daughter tradition. To share something you love with someone you... and... wanted to give it to you.”

“Oh my God, really? If I knew... I'm so sorry, I ruined your surprise.”

“That's okay.”

“I don't have anything for you.”

“I don't need anything. You do so much for me already.”

Ticketbooth Clerk answers with his most sincere, eye-sparkling smile.

“I'll act surprised. I'll promise”

“And... if you give me a sec...”

He takes a little thing, rummages through some boxes and crates, and comes back with a little package, wrapped in red paper.

“So... um... here. For you.”

Nunnally gives him a little kiss and unties a neat bow made of packing twine. Back on his hand lies a small heavy tin box, that Janitor bought at the festival. It is a size and shape of a lighter but with a short chain on the top and a tiny winder at the back. Front is a bit scratched but is still depicting in a Japanese style a little bird hidden in tall grasses. How did you knew what it was? Janitor shrugs. 

“My grandfather had one. I think. Or one of his friends? I don't know. It didn't come back yet. They had a funny name for it. It looks like a keychain but it is supposed to be worn at belt, to outweigh or-or secure things, like that little bundles, cos it's Japanese, they didn't had pockets, but it is... this one is a music box. You can have some music on you, wherever you go. I know, it is not the same as playing it but I just thought... you might like it.”

“I love it. Thank you.”

They wind it and a sweet, automaton melody fills the room.

But later, cleaning railings, Janitor seems worried. What's the problem? It wasn't the perfect moment you hoped for but he liked it. 

“It was stupid. It doesn't meant anything, it was just  a thing . Nothing, you know, special.”

He liked it. Never saw anything like it. He doesn't seem to care for big gestures. And aren't intentions more important than an actual item you're giving?

“Hmmm. I should have thought of something better. Something more personal.” 

You still can. There are no laws forbidding giving people more than one holiday gift. 

“But Wind's Daughter will be over soon. And I have no idea... hmmm.”

Does it need to be now? Gifts without occasion are so much sweeter. They show that you think about someone all the time. 

But it still bothers him when he goes back to the closet and falls asleep next to Nunnally, who's hugging a polar bear, piece of packing twine around his wrist. And the next day, as they go out for breakfast, and later, when sharing late lunch, consisting of Janitor's attempt to make pancakes over the stove, in a small cooking pot. Even a few days later, when he's waiting for the Ticketbooth Clerk as they made an appointment to play that evening, he's still trying to come up with some new, sensible, gift idea. As he's waiting in the shadows he overhears Nunnally, reporting his presence to the new night watchman.

“You're staying here quite often.”

“Oh? Is that a problem?”

“Nah. Was just wondering... You're spending all this time with this janitor guy?”

“Yes?”

“So... is it... What's in it for you? Is it some charity project or what?”

“I... What?”

“I mean, you are here few times a week. Why bother? It's a holiday. You could use the evening to hang out with some friends. Or some nice young lady.”

“But... I want to spend time with  him . He's my boyfriend.”

“Oh. I mean... Oh. But... How to put this. Hmmm.  Why ? He is... He can't even make a sentence.”

“You don't need excuses to love someone. This isn't...  sigh . I should go. Goodnight, Mr Ainsley.”

Nunnally leaves baffled new night watchman, notices Janitor hiding in the shadows and comes right to him.

“You were listening, weren't you?”

“Um... sorry.”

“ Sigh . I'm... kind of glad you did heard that? Cos... you also seem not to believe me when I say that I'm happy we are together? And I would very much like not to need to explain it again to anyone.”

“Sorry. It's just... you are so.... and do so much for me. I don't have anything to offer.”

“Are you kidding? You basically risked your life so I could play. And... why do you think I came to you with this ridiculous cake?”

“Um...”

“I was... I was surprised after that first night when I saw your reflection in that window... And after... when you invited me to play that night. But I really wanted to get to know you better. Because I'm pretty sure that under all of this... behind those walls you use to shield yourself is so much more worth waiting for. I can't wait for the next moment you let me into some secret of yours.”

As Janitor does not respond, intimidated by all those kind words, he continues: 

“And... you like me the way I'm. Without conditions or requirements. You're not pretending to be anyone else. I don't need to either. I can be soft, and silly and scared...”

“You're not silly!”

“Yeah. See? That's exactly... With you, for you, I'm never... I'm enough. And the way you look at me... every time...” he smiles. “Thank you.”

That finally calms Janitor down and later that night he even hums to himself in the darkness as he's mopping the floors.

“Hey! Janitor man! Is that you?”

It's the new night watchman, approaching from the staircase. Janitor jumps a little, then remembers it is fine and braces himself for a meeting with him.

“Y-yes? Hi.”

“You were making that sound?”

“Um... Yeah?”

“Good. You should do that more often. I would know where you are.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“And you're not half bad at this. Didn't know you can hold a tune. That's not bad, not bad.

“Th-thanks?”

“Anyway... Yeah. Carry on.”

“...You too?”

He waits a bit for the night watchman to leave and then exhales. And after making sure no one is around he quietly continues with his song. And that gives him an idea.

That night Nunnally stayed. Janitor works diligently, still humming. He finishes earlier but does not go to sleep. You did everything! And have so much time left. I'm impressed. You can go to your closet, to bed.

“I need to do something first.”

What?

“It is a surprise.”

Care to share maybe? I won't tell anyone.

“Mmm, no. You'll find out in time.”

Hope so. A couple of hours later, when night reaches the point when it is closer to dawn, Janitor enters his closet. Oh, that is so exciting!

“Nunnally? Nunnally? Wake up.”

“Mghm?”

“Good morning. C'mon, we need to go.”

“What? What happened?”

“I need to show you something. Oh, and take this” Janitor hands him the thicker of his sweaters and wraps a big scarf around him. Then he rolls a blanket and puts it under his arm when leading them downstairs. Nunnally is still half asleep when they go down and leave Tower grounds.

“Julian, where are we going? It is so late. Or early?”

Yes, where are you going? Tell me, or him, it's been hours! Is it still Wind's Daughter gift thing or have you suddenly decided to... I'm not even sure what it is. But, carry on. They reach the Seine. Janitor guides them under a bridge and gives the Boat a little pat before untieing it. 

“Um... Here. Hop on.”

“What? No. We can't take it. It belongs to someone.”

“It's mine.”

“You have a boat?”

“Yes? I mean... Yes, yes I do. Or at least... I think so? I feel... I remember it? I don't know how but I'm sure it is mine.”

“Julian...”

“And even if... we'll bring it back here. Everyone is asleep now so no one else would need it. And no one will bother us on the river now.”

Nunnally bites his lip and looks at him with concern. But he is also intrigued.

“Okay.”

Janitor helps him in. Are you sure it is a good idea? It is dark. And cold.

“I thought about it. It'll be fine. Take a blanket. It might be chilly there.”

“What? What about you?”

“Oh, I'll be rowing. It will keep me warm.”

They get into the boat and row out. For a long time, they sit in silence. Janitor smiles as he rows and glances from time to time at the Ticketbooth Clerk, whos staring at city lights, reflecting on gentle waves.

“This is nice. Do you... come here often?”

“Sometimes. I love row boating. And... It's so quiet. Nothing disturbs you here. Huh...”

Why are you so nervous?

“Okay. I have a surprise for you. Oh, and some sandwiches, but that's for later.”

“Surprise? Something more surprising than rowboating in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah. I think so. Okay. Hmmm. I... I... I can't thank you enough. For helping, and being you, everything. And... I made... I have a song. For you.”

His heart is pounding so hard now that it might be audible in an early morning silence.

“Really? Can I hear it?”

Janitor nods and takes a deep breath. Nunnally looks at him with a wide, encouraging smile.

Janitor closes his eyes.

With all the world inside

To All Who Say Goodnight

Outside it's outerspace

The whole world fills with space!...

His voice is carried out on the calm waters and into the sleeping city. But he doesn't care. He wants to sing about how he felt and how important the other young man is in this new life of his. And how much he wishes he never leaves.

Bless the dark and handhold...

Till we all grow old!

They both shiver as a long note reverberates on the waters and came back with a softly hazed echo. Neither of them notices some windows lighting up, as they are passing sleeping buildings. But he continues, most likely waking half of Paris in the process. Forgive him Parisians, this is important for them.

Slowly kiss and handhold...

Till we all grow old!

The last note escapes his mouth and all goes silent. When he opens his eyes Nunnally has the widest smile he has ever seen and tears in his eyes.

“Thank you” whispers. He tries to shift a little closer and a small boat sways a little. “I would... oh... How do you move on this? Just... come here.”

They stay on the Seine till dawn. Lying down in the little boat, letting the current carry them back, sharing a blanket and each other's warmth. Around them, birds are starting their morning chatter. 

“Can you hear them? They sing every day, but during the day all the noises and traffic and people just drown them out. But they gave concerts nonetheless, every day. And now they are singing just for us. All of the city is singing.”

As the sky softly changes into pink and orange and greyish blue and Paris resounds with life, they steer the little boat back and join early morning workers and late-night drinkers wandering the streets. Lead by the smell of fresh-baked bread, they enter a small cafe, to enjoy chocolate croissants, straight from the oven. Sweet, hot coffee, warms their hands. Coffee tasting kiss over a table wakes them up a little, their noses touching reddened cheeks, still cold. 

As they stroll through the city, not sure yet where to go yet, there is a well dressed, completely drunk man, carefully moving his feet on the sidewalk. He stops suddenly, steadying himself as the world spins around him. And he fixes his gaze at two cheerful young men, passing him, too engrossed in conversation to notice a dishevelled famous radio host.

“Julian?” He murmurs under his breath, then shakes his head. He must have been mistaken. Boy might resemble that man like a twin brother, but there was something off in the way he moved, talked, so relaxed, witty, standing tall as if he was running a place. His long lost colleague never looked so relaxed and comfortable. It must have been just alcohol, dulling his senses. Or maybe John Cameron just never saw  his Julian  so calm and, in fact, that happy.

Chapter Text

“Julian! Hello?”

Some clutter from above answers him.

“Oh, good. I was looking for you. Would you get down? It is weird to talk to the void.”

Janitor climbs from the girders, which he was cleaning from the snow and smog dust. 

“How... how are you climbing with a mop and full bucket?”

“Ymmm... I just... do?”

He gives Janitor a hand to help him get from the railing and, more importantly, offers his cutest smile and this irresistible look. But as soon he starts talking he grows more and more nervous.

“Hi. Okay, hear me out. So, there is this Wind's Daughter thing, you know, to invite your family and friends to share a meal? And we're doing that in a rooming house I live. Our Landlady insisted, she's really into family atmosphere and stuff. And I thought... Would you... have time tomorrow evening? I mean... to go as my guest?”

“Um... Yes.”

“Cos, you know, I would love you to come with me but I don't want you to be uncomfortable and there will be some people there, we can go earlier so we, I mean, I know them, so you can meet them one at the time... And, so I'm gonna prepare you, cos it will be like a family gathering but with one curious old lady and lots of people who are perfectly fine with just passing each other in a building so they don't want to be too personal but also they don't want to displease her, cos that's a really bad idea, and she is kinda sweet in a way...”

You should stop him. He might not have heard you the first time. 

“Nunnally. I would love to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, that's great! Oh, and she might ask questions, lots of them. But there will be nice food. And... ah, I'm so glad. But you might need to take a day off, the last time it ended at like 2 a.m. And...”

Eventually, they leave in the late morning, as the Ticketbooth Clerk offered they'll help with preparations (mostly to get the favour of the Landlady but also to give the Janitor enough time to get used to the new place). People around them are rushing, lifted by a holidays atmosphere. As they go, Nunnally is constantly playing with twine on his wrist, straightening his clothes, trying to tame some of Janitor's wild curls. Janitor doesn't mind his gentle touch, but seeing him so agitated makes him upset. After the ninth time he asks:

“Are you okay?”

“Sorry, I feel like I'm introducing you to my parents.”

“Oh God.”

“Don't worry! I mean... Landlady might write to them? She's a family friend, my mum's best friend's husband's cousin. Like, in our town that makes her practically my aunt.”

Nunnally explains, that he is from a small town in the south, where everyone knows everyone. He left for Paris to make a career and stayed in this 'family friend' owned rooming house. And that it felt like he left to live on his own but ended up in a trial version of it. 

“But don't worry. You don't need to try to impress anyone.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean...”

“I know, I know. It'll be fine. If things will start to go wrong, we can always say that I didn't get a night off and you need to walk me back.”

“That... But you did?”

“Yeah. Yes. Mr Chouinard was even happy? I think. He looked... He got that face? Like... when he asks me for something and I do it right?”

What Janitor is trying to say is, that Mr Chouinard was relieved and even maybe a little proud of himself, that his patient guidance made Janitor brave enough to socialise and go out more.

“Okay. If anything... They are all well mannered and reserved, even if they'll have some issues they won't show. They'll gossip about it later and Landlady will write to my mother and she'll be so disappointed that  I  didn't wrote to her about you, God I should write to her, I didn't send any letters in so long, I'm breaking her heart, she'll never let me go home again.”

Janitor puts an arm around him. He manages to smile even tho his own heart is pounding now. 

“Nunnally, you might... I think you're spiralling? Calm down. It is just a party. I've been at parties before, it'll be fine.”

Most of the times you were hiding behind a couch. I'm afraid it might not work now.

“And I'll do my best, promise. And we don't need to tell anyone.”

“Okay” he reaches to fix a stray lock of hair, putting it behind Janitor's ear, again, more to comfort himself than to do any difference in the other boy's incorrigible appearance. “I need to write to them, first thing in the morning. So she hears from me first.”

“You could... call her.”

“She'll guilt me into coming back home for a visit. I love them. And I miss my little brother, but... Have you been to family gatherings? Cos I'm so sick of this 'how about a girlfriend?', 'oh, we thought it was a temporary job', 'weren't you studying something?'. Hmmm. Maybe if Maëlle was there...  sigh  I can't deal with this right now.”

“It... it's nice that they care.”

“Yeah. How about y...” He hesitates as this change of subject might upset Janitor and decides not to. “Yeah. It's nice. And mum's glad that I live in a big city. And dad tells everyone that I'm continuing family tradition in trade. And, you know, work for a respectable institution. But... they're not saying that, but I feel that they think I let them down.”

“Nunnally...”

“Just... See, my older brother works in that bank. He's something like a manager's assistant or something but he'll be boss there in no time. My sister married one of dad's employees and they're taking care of the family's shop. My other sister runaway to travel the world with this strange couple, so that was a little scandalous, but she writes pieces about it for some newspaper so that's sort of a career, with fame even. Mum collects every mention of her and loves to be asked about Maëlle, even tho she pretends otherwise. And I... I'm just happy to sell tickets to people. A machine could do that.”

“Don't you think... they'll be happy with whatever makes  you  happy? Cos, you know, you... you're like... already perfect. Like that. In every way...”

Ticketbooth Clerk answers him with a shy, grateful smile and a little kiss. After turning the next corner they reach a rooming house. 

“Okay. Let's do that”

Inside they leave their coats and enter the big room on the ground floor. Nunnally explains that it's a dining room and also a lounge. Now it is filled with a long table and lots of unmatching chairs. They are so early, only two other people are there. Nunnally introduces Janitor to Landlady and her daughter, who was also invited. Old lady is looking at him closely as Janitor is trying to coherently answer her questions and don't run away from that stern stare. Finally, she nods her head, content.

“Good, good. You boys look presentable. But that is not an outfit suitable for the kitchen.”

They both look down, Nunnally as if he didn't noticed before that they're both in their best Sunday clothing.

“Oh. We'll be fine, really. How can we help?”

They carefully hang their jackets on chairs, roll up their sleeves and put on aprons Landlady handed them. 

“I think she likes you” Nunnally whispers. Apparently, it calmed him down and he is starting to enjoy them working together, passing some of that playful energy into Janitor. They are preparing the dining room first, bringing more chairs and setting the table. And only when Landlady approves the effect, they enter busy kitchen. Nunnally is assigned to roll out some dough and Janitor to:

“Keep an eye on  the thing  for me, would you, love?” 

Not sure if he's up to the task he takes a wooden spoon and tends to whatever brown pieces are frying in the huge pan and slowly cooking liquid in enamelled pot.

As everyone apart from the Janitor know each other quite well, they start to chat casually. It is nice to listen to the buzz of that comfortable conversation and he's grateful they're not trying to engage him in it too much and do not require from him more than one-word answers.

Old woman is overly chattery, cautiously suspicious over their every move until she judges them capable enough. Janitor smiles politely but in her presence, he is nervous and sheepish, anxious that he will screw up, ruin everything, get kicked out and get Nunnally in trouble. Fortunately, Landlady sees through this and, because she already does not believe in men's ability to do housework, she treats them like little boys – giving them simple tasks, clear instructions, checking on their progress, correcting them, and – what Janitor finds as a pleasant surprise - praising for doing their tasks right. Janitor does them, anxious at first, then joyful that he  can  do anything right. And there it is, the last tray of small clafoutis gets out of the oven, colourful cherries and fruits standing out in a perfectly browned batter. He didn't ruin anything! He made them and they are beautiful! And smell sooo good. Oh, I'm so proud of you! And Janitor is also content with that strange, rare feeling of accomplishment.

When Landlady leaves to look for something in the pantry her daughter shifts conversation to Nunnally and what he was up to recently.

“I'm glad you found some time to help out today. Mum really likes to boss people around and my brothers couldn't be here this year. Thanks.”

“Oh. Don't mention it. We're happy to do so.” He puts another portion of dough and starts to roll it “It's like being back home for holidays.”

Janitor can't remember ever taking part in preparing something like that.

“Yeah” he sighs. To me. Again forgetting that no one can hear me. Please, focus, you were doing so well.

“Oh. Have you had these meetings at your home? Were you also helping in preparations?”

“I... Um...”

He panics but Ticketbooth Clerk joins in smoothly:

“You've told me you were always cleaning around the house?”

“Y-yeah. And helping my mum. Often. In the kitchen. Ummm... And, and... and we had a party... parties. Too. I... I wasn't allowed but... at my greatgrandfather's... he would let me. Sometimes. Um...”

Girl nods kindly. Ticketbooth Clerk smiles and comes over to pick up something. And murmurs as he passes him: 

“You're doing great.” And he can't stop himself and marks Janitor's face with the flour. They start throwing at themselves little bits. Dorothée joins in, pretending she's doing it only accidentally.

“Ugh, boys, would you lend me a hand? Boys?”

They all giggle, trying to brush themselves before Landlady will spot it, as she enters the kitchen and shakes her head.

“I can't trust you out of my sight, do I?”

Hours pass as they prepare more dishes. Janitor relaxes slowly, keeping his head down less and less, as Nunnally checks on him often, giving him an encouraging smile or hand squeeze, especially when he introduces him to new people as they are gathering. In late afternoon ladies leaves to ready themselves, leaving young men to clean the kitchen.

As they join in the dining room, slowly filling up with people, Nunnally does not introduce them as a couple but implies it in his behaviour, facial expressions and gestures. No one asks and he clearly is not going to explain himself despite curious glances of few people.

Residents and their guests are a little stiff at first, as they weren't expecting to have a family gathering with strangers and people they know only by sight. Room buzzes with quiet conversations until the tower bell rings and everyone sits down at the table, to count their blessings before Landlady proudly brings the first dish. After slowly chewing one and second appetizers they nibble nervously on some socca and nuts, exchanging pleasantries but not talking too much. Record playing in the background mercifully fills any silence, no one knows who and when put it on. But soon, between red borscht on mushroom broth and roasted goose in orange sauce, wine and family atmosphere created by Landlady overcomes them all, as they share laughs and stories. 

It reminds Janitor of parties at his greatgrandfather's house.

As Nunnally leaves for a moment, Dorothée sits down next to him and stares.

“Um... Can... I help you? Somehow?”

“I can't shake off this feeling that I know you.”

“Oh?”

“But I don't know how. I saw you before. Often. Were you working or living around Boulevard Saint Germain?”

He doesn't remember. You might have. But that's unlikely.

“N-no?”

“I'm pretty sure...” she snaps her fingers. “A poster! For a show! What was it called? Ughhh, I don't remember, something with a circus, maybe? And there was a guy on it, a small figure, but my friend, from work, saw one of their previous shows and got such a crush on him. We had to go that way,  every day . Until we bought tickets for the next show. But we didn't get a chance to go, they cancelled it, like right before.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. A poster guy got eaten by a bear or something, my friend was devastated. And you look like him, in a way. Isn't that crazy?”

Before Janitor gets any answer, Ticketbooth Clerk sits between them.

“I'm back. What were you talking about?”

And as the two of them talk about the performance Dorothée saw recently, Janitor wonders. Was he the poster guy? Did he really was part of some show? But how? And he wasn't 'eaten by a bear', by now he's almost sure he  is  alive. And was a polar bear from his memories real or imagined, like a part of a story? He does not want to think about it, so when Landlady asks: “Would you check on the oven, dear? Those little... whatever Dorothée calls them, should be ready in a minute. Just be that kind and bring them, love.” He takes the opportunity and goes, to distract himself. Throughout the evening Janitor and Ticketbooth Clerk were asked to help with serving and cleaning, and they were participating proudly, as it made them co-hosts of this pleasant gathering. Not to mention, gladly accepting that excuse to escape some awkward conversations. As Janitor waits in the kitchen until unidentified snacks will reheat, Nunnally joins him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. It's great. Really. Thanks. For inviting me and all. This is nice.”

Janitor folds baking paper between fingers until it forms a little, slightly crooked giraffe. Ticketbooth Clerk observes his work and after exchanging looks, he takes it and fixes it into outer breast pocket of his jacket with a grin.

“I'm glad. How about...” Nunnally leans closer and wraps hands around Janitor's waist. “Let's stay here for a sec.”

“Whoa. Guys!” 

They abruptly stop kissing, jumping far from each other as if it could hide them now.

“Are you... a thing?”

“Dotty...”

“Oooh, I knew it! You make such a nice couple. Nunny, I didn't see you so confident in years! You let him shine, Julian.”

“Um...”

“Keep it down, please...”

“I mean, ohhh, I'm so happy for you! And mum would be also. She was nudging me for  three weeks  to introduce you to girls from my work. Good none of them could come tonight, that would be awkward. Why didn't you tell anything? Is this something new? Is this like your first date? Oooh! Tell me everything!”

“s igh. C ould you...”

“God, if mum saw that, she would be on the phone right away, complaining to auntie why she didn't told her, before giving you any chance to explain why were you all over your  coworker  in her kitchen.”

Janitor shifts, hoping that being closer would comfort the other boy now. It might have, as after a deep breath he answers:

“This is exactly why we...  I ... didn't told you. I'm happy and don't want it to be ruined. They are... overwhelming sometimes and I don't want you all to scare Julian away with... with... that much  enthusiasm .”

“Oh. I see. Hmm. Then maybe be more discreet, guys? Or, honestly Nunny. Just introduce your boyfriend properly. Who cares what old ladies gossip about. Give them something to talk about, they live for that! C'mon!”

“I'll think about it.”

“Think fast! I bet Julian had no problem telling his folks about you. Be brave, Nunny!” She pauses as both of them go pale. “God, I said something awful, didn't I?”

“Julian...”

“I... um...”

And now Ticketbooth Clerk's gentle hand stops him from running away. It is fine.

“It's fine. I'm... um... not... um.... lost contact. With them. Long ago.”

“Oh. I'm sorry. Really. Didn't mean to upset you. But you know what, Julian? You're in luck. Nunny got a pretty big family and I'm sure he'll be happy to share.”

At some point, after all desserts and some more drinks, someone begins to sing along with the record and encourages everyone to join in. The Janitor does, quietly at first, then in full voice. No one seems to care or mind. Some elderly gentleman shyly brings an accordion from his room and, after silent approval from Landlady, starts to play. Someone proposes to move a table against the wall and a few people start to dance. Some in pairs they come in, others scrapping courage to ask someone else's female guests or just not caring, mostly due to a state of intoxication, and happily hopping around with other tipsy men.

Young men exchange looks and join in. Nunnally is trying to lead at first but soon it becomes apparent that neither of them has the slightest idea what dance it is. And Janitor doesn't care, engaging them in another clumsy twirl, laughing at how bad they are at this, just enjoying movement and being so close. 

“I'm so glad you invited me here. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

They stay late at night, laughing, singing and enjoying food and company.

And Janitor looks at his boyfriend, who's laughing so hard that his eyes teared up, which makes them incredibly sparkly. Nunnally being at his side gives Janitor the warmest feeling. A feeling that he didn't had since childhood, a feeling which he forgot. Feeling of having a place to belong.

Chapter Text

Late at night, after most people left and the rest is  very  drunk, someone spills a half of forgotten bowl of soup on the Ticketbooth Clerk. Both boys rush to clean it up somehow, drunken man trying to help, causing mostly more chaos.

“It's okay, I'll manage.”

“It will be ruined.”

“I'll go upstairs to wash it. I wanted to call it a night anyway.”

They say their goodbyes to everyone and leave the common room. The corridor is dim lighted and pleasantly quiet. 

“I should go back to the Tower.”

“What? What if... if you stay here tonight?”

Janitor wasn't expecting that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. They won't notice. And even if Landlady will see you, I think she likes you. And if she'll kick me out I hope you'll let me stay at your place until I find something.”

“Nunnally, I think you're drunk.”

“Noo. Maybe a little bit. Just enough not to care.” He laughs and comes closer. “I just don't want you to go alone. Or sleep on the street again. And house regulations only forbids bringing  women  to stay overnight. Landlady is very strict on  indecency  but she should not suspect...” 

“Oh.”

He realises what he implied and goes beet-red. 

“Oh my God, I didn't meant... I mean if you want... I would like to... and don't want to push you to anything...”

It takes him a few deep breaths to find a way to say something sensible. He manages to let out:

“It's late. I'll be worried if you go. Would you stay?”

Janitor, who was avoiding his look out of embarrassment, nods gently. Nunnally, still red on the face leads them to his room. It is small, with a single window, looking out onto the street, distant silhouette of the Tower lights up above the roofs. It is clean and cozy space, kept in a very orderly way.  

“Make yourself comfortable. I should clean myself up. 'Be right back.”

Janitor sits down on the bed, bouncing a little. After some time he starts to look around, reading book spines, examining little nicknacks on shelves and small, unframed photographs on the desk. There are also worn pieces of paper tape on the edge of the desk top. Janitor recognizes them as the piano keyboard layout. He strokes them gently, imagining the sound they would make and Ticketbooth Clerk, practising on this mute piano, longing for real melody.

Everything is a little old and worn out but in a well-kept and organized way. He enjoys how peaceful it feels and how much care radiates from all of it, how safe it all is.

Ticketbooth Clerk returns, drying his hair with a towel. He has the most pleasant smell of hot water and soap. 

“Sorry it took so long, it was so sticky I needed to take a shower. If you want, bathroom is at the end of the corridor. I left plenty of hot water.”

He smiles and hands the Janitor a fresh towel and a bit worn but clean pyjamas.

The idea of a hot shower is so tempting that Janitor considers it against Landlady's rage. Nunnally smells so nice and pleasant heat radiates from him. He gaves up and sneaks out of the room, as quiet and cautious as possible, even tho everyone is either drunk, fast asleep or both. And then he takes a hot shower. It is marvellous. After months of cleaning himself in the employees' bathroom sink, it's a rare luxury. He didn't even realise how much he missed it. Julian. You could live like that. You  should  live like that. Maybe it is time to leave the Tower and get back to the real world?

When he gets back, Nunnally is standing uncertain with a pillow under his arm and a blanket in his hands. He smiles, seeing Janitor in a sligthly too short pyjamas. 

“I can... stay on the floor, I don't want you to think...”

“I mean... we shared a bed before...”

A lot. 

“...A cot. So if you're okay with that...”

They lay down, close, cos even tho the bed is wider than a cot, there is not enough space for them to be far apart. For some time they are laying in silence, awkwardly tense and shy. Janitor is overwhelmed by how nice the other boy smells, so warm, so close to him. Then Nunnally turns to lay on a side, supporting his head on the elbow, gazing at the Janitor.

“I want to hear one of your stories.”

“Um. O-okay”

Oh, it is so good to be back!  In the grand ballroom at the top of the Eiffel Tower, behind the red velvet curtains, preparations for the new show are underway. It is a week before the most important night of the year, a Wind's Daughter show. And we find the Janitor hiding in the shadows, listening, as Leticia marches her crew.

Nunnally interrupts: 

“Who's Leticia?”

“Um... she's a chief stagehand.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I remember now.”

Yes, so,  Leticia marches her crew.

“ Okay, listen up. It is ze most important show of ze year. Everything needs to be perfect, you know? I need you to be on your best  and  we need to keep an eye on ze Janitor. It would be best if we found him and put somewhere for the show.”

“ Leticia, we can't lock him up.”

“ No, no, no, I'm not asking you to. Just make sure you know where he is, as long as it is far away from the Clock. Behind closed doors would be best but I don't care, we can't let zis show to be ruined, compris?”

“Isn't she too mean?”

“What? No. She needs to keep everything in order. It's not easy to make the show happen.”

“She sounds tough.”

“Oh, she is. But she's cool. And so strong. Like, you would not believe. But she would never hurt anyone. Not on purpose.”

“I don't want her to catch janitor in your story.”

“She won't. Because he is hiding. And...”

And he is a master hider. For the rest of the week, he keeps in the shadows, like a ninja, to see preparations for the show. Most of all, he wants to see a big clock they are preparing every year. It is always beautiful and gives a strange feeling about it, some magic which will end that year and let the next one to be born.

But he can't find it. He is sure that they must build it somewhere, they couldn't just break that tradition. Cautiously, not to be detected and thrown out, he goes through every room and corridor backstage. But it is nowhere to be found! But he's sure he saw paint buckets and other supplies required to prepare it. And he overheard stagehands complaining about making it. But the Clock is nowhere to be seen. How peculiar. Maybe it is... invisible?

With that thought, Janitor is trembling with excitement and waits for the actual show. He carefully surveys the theatre to find a new hiding spot from which he could watch the show and no one will even think to look there. He knows which lights aren't tended during the show and he can easily hide behind them, being warm and seeing everything.

And we find him now, right before the show, hiding close to the staircase at the backstage, waiting for an opportunity to climb onto the lighting catwalk. As he waits, he feeds some mice sitting on his lap. Suddenly, one of them steals the biggest piece of pastry and runs away. And starts to jump down from the stairs! Janitor whispers after them:

“ Wait! You won't be able to climb back!”

He carefully places the rest of the mice on the floor and quietly, unnoticed by anyone, runs down into the traps room. It is very quiet and lit only by technical lights.

“ Edric? Edric? Please, come back! We need to go, we'll miss the show. Edric?”

He sees a brief gleam of light fur and runs after it. And there it is again! He leaps and... oh, he got them!

“ There you are! C'mon, we need to go.”

Janitor sits down, carefully putting the adventurous mouse into his pocket. Only now he sees where he is – directly below the stage, in front of this year's Clock!

“Why would they put a clock in a place like this?”

“I think they didn't wanted it to get ruined. And you know, to let it make a big entrance.”

“I mean, if they just left it on a stage, behind the curtain, or hang it over the stage, they could monitor it all the time.”

“Oh, there was someone to keep an eye on it. But he was asleep.”

Hmmm, yes.  Stagehand Jacques was there, asleep in the chair.

“Which one was Jacques again?”

“The big one. With an aunt. And karate stunts. He always teases Leticia.”

“Right. Did you have a crush on him?”

“What? No!”

“Did he had a crush on you?”

“I don't know.”

Why is he constantly interrupting? Oh, is he... Is he trying not to get hypnotised by your story? Maybe not. That would be ridiculous. And if that wasn't distracting enough, Ticketbooth Clerk unconsciously starts to play with Janitor's damp curls. Hmm. Where were we? Yes.  Jacques, asleep, in the chair. 

  He was supposed to keep an eye on the Clock. They hid it under a stage to make a big entrance, and, most importantly, to hide it from the Janitor. And they almost managed to do that. Leticia didn't wanted him to break it, so the entire crew was working double to keep the Janitor away, hiding their work from the moment they brought parts and supplies for it. They thought they kept him away enough so he didn't knew where it was. But Janitor is here now and wants to see the Clock up close. He sneaks closer, climbs into the platform and is staring with amazement.

As Janitor exclaims a little “Wow. Look at this. It's beautiful”, Jacques wakes up, suddenly, the chair behind him falls with a clatter. They both freeze, hoping no one heard on the stage – the show has already begun. Jacques gets on the platform to chase away the Janitor and check on the clock.

“ Kid! You're not supposed to be here.”

“ I'm sorry! I just wanted...”

“ Get the fuck out of here before...”

Platform starts to move! They're trapped!

“Wait, trapped? Why didn't they just jump from it?”

“Um. There were railings. Cos later Mr Cameron was supposed to get on the platform and it would go up. They wanted him to be safe.”

And there is nowhere to hide! Janitor manages to grab a weight sack. It doesn't stop them from ascending. He opens it and spills its contents on them, but mostly on himself. It is full of fine sand, which makes them a little dusty and quite itchy.

“ The hell are you doing?”

“ I thought... I thought it would be more like flour. And paint us in one colour?”

Nunnally starts to laugh.

“I'm sorry, please, continue.”

Ugh. Where were we? Oh, yes.

“ I thought... I thought it would be more like flour. And paint us in one colour? So we could pretend to be part of the clock.”

Ticketbooth Clerk's laughter interrupts, again.

“Sorry, sorry, I just... You know how adorable you look when you're confused? I just pictured you, standing there, with that empty bag... And the face of the other guy...”

He laughs some more, trying to narrate this image. He fails, as much as the Janitor fails  not to  enjoy this laughter, as it sounds so honest and delightful. Not to mention, it makes Nunnally's cheeks blush and eyes shine.

“...absolutely ridiculous... I mean, you wouldn't be able to lift it, not to mention open it in time, but nevermind, tell me what happened next!”

“ ...So we could pretend to be part of the clock.”

“ What?”

 “ You know, like these little figurines on the old clocks. If we stand very still maybe no one will notice.”

“ I'm a stagehand! You're a janitor! And we are just dirty now! It will be obvious we're not part of it.”

But Janitor already places himself on the side of the clock. And after a brief moment of panic, places his hands on a side of a dial, as if he was holding it. Jacques swears and takes a similar pose. At least he looks impressive.

As the clock goes up, revealed on to the stage, Mr Cameron announces it with verve and flourish, only one false note in his voice as he spots the clock's additions. 

“ And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, have you ever wondered how the shadows might sound? Feast your eyes and ears and welcome to the stage remarkable artist, light and shadows player!”

Jacques groans and hisses through gritted teeth:

“ I'll kill you, as soon as I get out of here.”

“ I'm sorry, I had no idea...”

“ Shhhh.”

As the acts continue and their arms grew more and more tired they hear a familiar voice and the Janitor jumps a little. It is Leticia!

“ Boyz, don't move. I'm behind the backdrop. Listen carefully, I shall say zis only once. Ze next act, zere will be dancers. I've told zem, zey'll open ze railings, come up to you two and take you from 'ere. You need to leave with zem,  with grace , compris? Look like you're part of ze show. Don't screw this up and maybe I won't kill you both.”

“ Okay kid, we need to synchronise it somehow. You know any dance?”

“ Not really.”

“ Ughh. Have you seen any dance”

“ Yhhhh...”

“ Or those wind-up toys, with like stiff movements?”

“ Aha.”

“ Fine. Try to do that. Go when I do and then leave with the dancer.”

As the dancer goes, the Janitor is entranced by their subtle movements, engrossed with the story they're telling. After some time two dancers separate from the rest and with grace dance nearer to the Clock. As they open the railings on both sides Janitor relaxes a little. Now he focuses on Jacques, waiting for a sign. But he doesn't move! As dancers come close to them he hears:

“ What's going on? Go.”

“ I can't! My hand stuck!”

Oh no! Trying to prevent Janitor from ruining the clock, stagehands were preparing it in secret, working on it to the last moment and some paint and glue must have been still fresh when Jacques put his hands on it! It must have dried in the lights and...

“That's not how glue works.”

Ughhh.

“Oh. But the stage lights are quite warm? And... and, and you know, lots of them were pointed on a clock, it was important. And... there are these superfast drying glues, you know?”

Yes.  Glue and paint dried when Jacques was on stage, trapping his hands, so he couldn't move, not if didn't wanted to risk tearing up part of the Clock.

“ Just go. And tell Leticia. We'll stay here till the end and solve it after the show.”

So dancers exchanged looks, make some moves indicating admiring a clock, gave them one last chance nod and close the railings behind them.

The show goes on, with them two more sore, itchy and sweaty with every minute. Mr Cameron goes on stage and starts a long, heartfelt monologue about the meaning of the Wind's Daugther, putting strangely appropriate emphasis on the importance of maintenance of relationships and forgiveness. He announces Orchestral and Saws and comes over to the platform.

“ What the hell?”

“ Sorry, Mr Cameron. I was trying to get rid of the Janitor and then my hands stuck.”

“ Ughhhhh. I need to go up with it. Will it hold all three of us?”

“ It should, Mr Cameron. Maybe just stand closer to the Janitor, so it won't tip to one side. I'm heavier than both of you.”

Mr Cameron reluctantly moves closer to the Janitor's side and gives him a hateful look as he switches the microphone back on. As soon as lights focus on him his face is gleeful and while the Clock ascends, he wishes listeners wonderful holidays, shared with friends and family, full of joy and love. As they disappear behind the curtain platform shifts a little, when Mr Cameron strides toward Julian with silent rage. Janitor, even tho he was hoping that Mr Cameron would apply his own words about forgiveness, is ready to flee. He jumps on a catwalk. Two men, now both screaming, run after him! And there are more people downstairs, looking at them, waiting. There is nowhere to go! 

But, Edric, the adventurous mouse, jumps out of Janitor's pocket and runs along the wall. And disappears! There must be a vent or technical corridor nearby. And before anyone can catch him, Janitor disappears into it too.

“Is that why you're hiding from them?”

“What? No. It wasn't... No. It is just a story.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry. I liked it. Good that it got funny parts.”

“Um.”

“I was so sure that one of you will sneeze, because of that dust, and reveal you to the audience.”

“Oh.”

“You can add that next time.”

He isn't a patient listener, isn't he? Oh, you think he was just  attentive . Interested in the  details . Engaged  in the story . Riiight. 

“You talk differently when you're telling a story.”

“Really?”

“Your voice is softer. And all words come up like... smoother. Like you don't even need to pause for a breath. You're like a perfectly played instrument when you tell a story.”

He moves a little closer and rests his head on Janitor's chest.

“Would you... khmmm... Tell me another one.”

Janitor feels a warm breath on his neck. And he wants to share that breath.

Janitor sleeps curled on bed, hugging a pillow, with fist clenched at the sheet as if he is trying to anchor himself to it. Nunnally looks at him and gently pushes some curls from his face.

“Look at you. How could anyone hurt you?”

Janitor wakes up and the first thing he sees is the Ticketbooth Clerk's face, so close he can count all freckles on it. And he's looking at him, watching him sleep.

“Good morning, cutie.”

“Hmmmornin'.”

“If you wait a bit I'll sneak out some breakfast. We can eat here.”

Oh God. Is he really proposing you a breakfast in bed? He's spoiling you terribly. 

“Uhmmm. Don't want to trouble you. I should go.”

“Or stay? Just a little longer. I have a day off, don't think you're in a hurry either. We could stay in bed  all day . Or at least past noon. You know, like on winter holidays? Oh, I love those lazy mornings. You don't need to dress or do anything. You can just stay, under the covers and read all day or whatever. With as much tea as you want. Yes. That's the plan for today. Will you join me in doing nothing all day?”

Oh yes, you are quite proficient in that. But this time it should be nice and warm and joyful. Janitor nods shyly and sitting under a blanket, watches as Nunnally pulls a sweater over his pyjamas. He is incredibly cute, still charmingly clumsy after waking up, with his hair ruffled, the most messily dressed Janitor ever saw him.

And they stay in this warm, bright room, enjoying lazy morning, sipping hot chocolate and looking at the snow, falling on the calm street. And Janitor thinks that this is how happiness looks like. Why would anyone need more?

Chapter Text

They shared another evening. As Nunnally leaves, he remembers something.

“There is a circus nearby, they are pretty famous. Dorothée saw them and she was delighted. I though... We could go see them? You know, before they leave.”

Janitor gets pale. He is sure Nunnally means  that  circus and it would be a disaster. He saw posters and was thinking of going in  that direction  many times, but never brought himself to. He isn't ready to meet them yet, especially not in front of the Ticketbooth Clerk.

“Nno. Maybe not.”

“Oh. I thought you like circuses. I mean... your story...”

“Um... Yes. But...”

Maybe you should tell him. You can go together. Think about it. Won't you feel braver if he would hold your hand?

“I need to do it alone.”

“Oh. Alright?”

“No, I mean... I need to think about it. It's... complicated.”

“Right. Sure. Hmmm. Well...” he sighs. “You know you can trust me? When you're telling me why things upset you, we can avoid doing them.”

Ticketbooth Clerk smiles so understandingly, almost apologetically.

“I'm sorry, I didn't meant to... It's just... I... Um...”

“It's fine. Just think about it, okay? If you'll want to tell me, I'll be glad to know. And if you change your mind, they're leaving this week. And the last show will be probably packed so... but, you know. No pressure.”

Janitor just nods. They kiss goodbye, reassuringly, both worried, but pretending not to be. 

He escapes to the girders. You heard him. They're leaving soon. That might be your last chance. Who knows when they'll be back. Don't you want to sort out all of this?

“I... don't know. I'm not ready! What I'm going to tell them? I just... I don't want them... to hate me.”

You won't know until you face them. Don't you miss them?

“I do. A lot. Just...”

As long as you don't, you can still pretend that they  are  with you. And everything is okay. 

“Mhhm.”

But it is  only  in your stories. Don't you think it would be nicer to meet  real  them? Make things right with them in the  real world ? Think about it. How delightful it is to spend time with a real person instead of an imaginary. And how well it goes! 

“What if... I'll ruin everything. Again.”

What if you make everything right and get them back? They are your friends. Like Mr Chouinard and Nunnally.  They  forgave and helped you. You can get it all back.

“Or lose everything I have now.”

Oh.

“Yeah. If they... If it goes bad I lose them. For real.”

But what if everything goes well? 

“If I'll leave the Tower with them... then Nunnally...” 

He looks down, watching as his beloved leaves Tower grounds.

“They won't stay. Not for long. And he's happy here. He won't leave. How I'm going to choose?”

What if there is no choice to make?

“What?”

Maybe they'll be happy to see you but won't... need you back. Or if they will want to... Maybe Ticketbooth Clerk won't mind selling tickets for  them . Or playing with you on the show. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

“Y-yeah.”

Let's try it then! If you'll fail, nothing will change. That's a good thing too.

“What if we learn something that will make Nunnally hate me?”

Would you ever do something like that?

“I hope not. But I don't know, I don't know... Why I can't remember? How I can get it back?”

Maybe by meeting with them.

“Ughmmm...”

Julian?

“What?”

You won't know until you go there. Look at you. You can't pretend anymore that it isn't troubling you. Aren't you tired of not knowing? Maybe it is time. 

“I'm not ready.”

You can fear all you want. But that won't change anything. You are making the same mistakes, over and over again. Just because you're  assuming  that people close to you will hurt you. And you are wrong. Every time you're running away you need to start over. And then you run away  again  and lose it all,  again . Break that circle. You never made things right with your greatgrandfather. You waited so long that you almost missed your chance to say goodbye to Coco. But you did. You were able to make it right in the end! You made a mistake but Nunnally and Mr Chouinard forgave you and took you back. You were brave and didn't lose anyone. You miss them so much. Face them. Give yourself a chance to make things right.

“That... that was different.”

Not really. Think about it. Don't you love them more than you fear their reaction? And, do you remember your story about darkness? That scary things might be just what we need? You showed yourself to Coco and got a friend. You told Nunnally about your feelings and he loves you the way you are. Maybe world isn't as scary as you imagined it?

“ Sigh . Why did I let you be the smart one?”

Remember, I'm you. You imagined me. And the audience.

“Oh. I forgot.”

That's okay, they didn't forgot about you. 

“Hmmm.”

You were so focused on the real people that you forgot. That's fitting, actually. We are here to help you, when you need us. We'll be always waiting for you. We  are  inside you. You don't need anybody else to give you courage. And whatever is holding you back, it is also an imaginary thing, inside you. And you can forget about it too.

So he tries to forget about his fears and doubts. And even tho he doesn't manage to convince himself entirely, he decides to go to the circus. 

Before evening he changes into some clothes  borrowed  from Tower's donations, so he doesn't resemble himself. His disguise includes even a different hat - a woolen flat cap, to hide his face if necessary. What if this is the look you  were  wearing when you left?

“You think so? It doesn't seem to suit me.”

Yes, it does not. Nevertheless, he strides down and waits by the ticket booth.

“Sorry sir, we're closed.”

“Hi.”

“Oooh, look at you! All dressed up, I didn't recognise you! What happened to your hat? I liked it.”

“Um... Just thought... that for the occasion... I mean... Let's go to that circus.”

“Really? I wasn't prepared. You didn't wanted to...”

“I thought about it and... It's just... But I think... Ummm... See, they are those people.”

“What peo...? Ohhh. The one you're hiding from? Wow, that's... Wait, were you in a circus?”

He said it all so quickly, Janitor needed a moment to process that.

“Um... In a way...”

“So that story...”

“Maybe? But I messed up. Badly. And... I can't go back. But they are... were... my family. And I would really like to see them. Even from afar. I miss them.”

He looks up but Nunnally is still in joyful amazement – not what Janitor expected.

“You were  part of the circus ? A real circus?”

“Um.”

“No, no, no, no, I'm not laughing at you –“

He does. 

“It's just... That's incredible. You need to tell me  all  about this. But not now. Now, yes, lets go and see your family!”

Janitor is glad that Nunnally is okay with it. But he is also a bit concerned that it seems like an exciting adventure for Ticketbooth Clerk, while he is going to encounter the most difficult challenge he can remember. He smiles none less, forcing himself to take each step, leading him closer to face his fear. Julian. You can only win. You have a life here. You can also get them back. It's fine.

Despite this, Janitor hides when Nunnally buys tickets – he's desperately trying to avoid any staff. He stays by Nunnally's side and does what he can, not to be seen. In the tent he takes a lead, heading up, to the spot which he knows that it is almost invisible from the stage, but good enough to see the performance.

Show begins. All acts are splendid. It warms Janitor's heart to see them all, doing so great.

Spectators are entranced and react enthusiastically, always in a way they should - with all laughter, 'awws' and 'ohhhs' in the right places. Nunnally is laughing, his eyes full of sparkles. Janitor enjoys it with him, from time to time casually scratching his face, to stop a tear from rolling down his cheek. 

And music, so simple yet so enchanting, familiar, swirling all around him, fills him with joy and a memory – a vague impression of everything being colourful, cheerful, thrilling. He tries to follow this feeling but it fades away as soon as the calliope hits the last note. 

Vainly he tries to bring it back, only partially focusing on the next acts. Until, at one point, Mr Cameron gets in the middle of the stage and asks for volunteers. Spotlights start to dance around the audience to select some excited participants. At this point Janitor ducks down, under the bench. Nunnally notices that after a while, when there is a little pause in the performance as volunteers are getting instructions. He leans over to ask quietly:

“Are you alright?

“Um. Just felt like... not being in the open.”

“Oh.” He's instantly worried and moves on the bench to be closer to him. “We can go out if you need some air.”

“It... It's okay. Let's don't draw attention to ourselves. It's fine.”

Nunnally doesn't seem to be convinced by Janitor's smile, as his hands, clenched on the brim of his jacket are clearly indicating great distress. Nunnally moves even closer, like if he was the one in a need of comfort now. Janitor leans against his leg and repeats:

“I'm fine here. Enjoy the show, this part is good. Really, don't worry.”

After Mr Cameron leaves the stage to deafening applause, Janitor cautiously scrambles back to the bench. Nunnally is smiling at him, but still clearly concerned. Janitor takes his hand reassuringly but it doesn't help.

They enjoy the rest of the show and as they are leaving, Janitor makes sure they go with a big group, to be hidden between people.

“Wow. That was amazing.”

“Um.”

“Don't you... You know, want to say hello or something?”

“N-no. Not yet. I... I wouldn't know what to say. But thank you. That was... I was happy to see them. They're doing fine. I'm glad.”

But as they're heading back, Janitor keeps looking over his shoulder.

“You want to go back?”

“N-no. No. Let's go.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“We can come tomorrow. After the show. If you change your mind.”

They do. They sit on the bench, across the street. Janitor fidgeting, Ticketbooth Clerk with an arm around him, to calm him down, at least a little bit. After an hour or two he offers:

“I'll... I'll bring us some coffee, would like some?”

“Yeah. No. Let... Let's go. It's cold. ”

“You still didn't meet them. Or did you decided not to?”

“No... I'm just... have no idea what to say.”

Nunnally puts his arms on the other boy's shoulders, gently, as if he was made out of glass. They're face to face now.

“If...  when  you disappeared on me... I didn't cared what you would say. Just wanted to see you again. And know you're fine.” He smiles. “And in the end, 'sorry' was more than enough. So, what about starting with 'hi' and then you'll see how it will go?”

Janitor smiles faintly.

“But this is different. After what I did... I can't.”

“What... Would you tell me what you did?”

“That's... that's the thing, I don't know, I don't remember. But I feel so guilty about it! And... and... and it must have been  horrible , otherwise, why would... Nunnally. I think I hypnotised myself not to remember.”

“What?”

“There is this thing, with a shoebox and, um... I think I did it. To run away and start a new life.”

“I... What? Sorry, you need to slow down. I have no idea what are talking about.”

“And what if they... if they also forgot and don't want me to remind them of whatever it was?  They  don't need to see me,  I  need to see them, to remember why... What if they're fine without me?”

“You won't know if you won't go.”

“But what if... if I'll trust myself. The past me? And just take this chance and start a new life. With you.”

“I would like that. But... you don't need to choose between me and your family, you know that?”

“Um.”

“And I'm afraid that if you won't face them it will be tormenting you even more. And I don't want that for you. Come here. I know it is a lot and you're scared. But they are only people. They can't harm you, they'll go to prison. And if they'll be mean I'll make sure you'll forget about it soon. Okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Like, really, what's the worst that can happen?”

And he embraces him tighter as the mere thought of all possibilities shakes the Janitor. He is trying to say something, to explain, excuse himself but there is not enough space for words between distressed gasps.

“Okay, okay, it's fine, It'll be fine. If... this is too much for tonight we can go. How about we'll take a walk, go eat something. You can prepare yourself when you calm down and if you'll like we can come back tomorrow. Okay?”

“But... that's the last show. They...”

“They'll need to disassemble it, right? I doubt it can be done in one night. If you're not up to it now, we can just try tomorrow.”

“Y-yeah. Let's go.”

They came back the next evening, Ticketbooth Clerk reassuring him all the way, as it is something that should be done, rather than something Janitor is eager to do.

But the place is empty. They did cleaned it up in one night. 

He lost his chance. 

Chapter Text

The Tower was Janitor's home now. There was no other place to come back to. Sometimes he dreamed about the ballroom at the top of the Eiffel Tower and everything was alright there and no one was mad at him, no more than usual. And he discovered, he didn't minded being that way. At least until they'll come back someday. Maybe. Hopefully.

So Janitor hums as he mops the floors, hiding his face in a thick, soft scarf, a gift from Landlady, who seemed to like him and turn a blind eye on his visits to Ticketbooth Clerk's room, even the overnight ones. It is a chilly but bright winter night and he actually enjoys being there, doing some work while looking at sleeping Paris. Suddenly, silence is broken by strangely familiar voices, distorted by a distance of a few floors:

“Guys? Have you heard that?”

“What?”

“That song.”

“What? What song?”

“I heard that too.”

“Right?”

“And it's familiar somehow, but I can't recall...”

“You fall for those clerks' bullshit. Wailing voices in the night, my ass. There are no ghosts on that tower, singing or otherwise.”

“But I heard...”

“Maybe someone has a radio here?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you agreeing? You said you heard that too!”

“I heard a song, didn't said it was a ghost!”

Janitor hides and listens. Voices move away slowly towards enormous crates, left at the bottom of the Tower. How strange. What is going on down there? Maybe you should ask Mr Chouinard about it.

“Yeah.”

But Mr Chouinard is nowhere to be found. And there are more and more people,  doing something  under the Tower. In the middle of the night! He needs to know. And, as the last resort, he carefully approaches the new night watchman.

“Um... Hi.”

“Oh! Jeez, you scared me, man. Why are you always sneaking around? Can't you just, you know, approach from the front? Or stomp loudly sometimes? Freaking mopping ninja.”

“S-sorry.”

“ Sigh.  It's fine. Wanna some coffee?”

Janitor accepts a small cup from thermos and begins to sip from it cautiously, slow enough to enjoy a bitter drink but also not lingering, not to waste any time.

“Um... Wh... Do you know what those crates are for? Should it... Um...”

The new night watchman patiently waits for a few seconds, to make sure that's how Janitor is going to leave that sentence. It seems like it. Interestingly, the night watchman seems to be  pleased  to be asked that question.

“Some crazy artists. They are going to make some big New Year's show here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I'll just need to make sure no one steals any of that garbage brought in. And check the ID of every bugger who'll try to sneak in or peak on it. But you man, I don't know what they were thinking. They don't want to close the tower for tourists so they'll be working all nights. That won't leave  you  time to mop or whatever.”

“Oh. Um...”

“At least we might watch it. On rehearsals and all. They say it is  'the biggest event of the year' , PR scams. But they'll broadcast it on the radio, so maybe those artists are real deal.”

Janitor nods, finishes his coffee and retreats to the lower deck, to carefully observe in morning mist workmen bringing more of the crates.

He doesn't recognize anyone but those are mostly delivery people. One apparently is talking to someone from the crew but they are too far to see or overhear. Do you think they might be from the circus? 

“Yeah.”

There is more artist around the world, you know? Why would  they  do New Year's show?

“I think... I don't know. But remember, Leticia, she was here! And, and, and why would Mr Chouinard give her and her people a tour? He only does that for very important people, like his bosses! They might be contractors, you know?”

That's great! You can finally go to them. They literally came to you.

“Yeah. Maybe... I'll wait. A bit.”

Nooo. You were ready, remember?

“I wasn't. It was just... last chance.”

And you got a second one! Don't wait until  that one  would expire too.

“Hmmm. But they will be here 'till New Year. For the show.”

Yes! They will be here all the time. This is your chance!

“I can watch for a bit. And, you know, make sure it is okay to come back. I... I don't want to ruin their show. Maybe... Maybe I'll show myself later. After. When they'll be disassembling it.”

You can't avoid them all that time!

“I can. And I will. And... and I can ask for their schedule. Yeah. To know in what parts they'll be working every night? You know, not to get in their way. With cleaning.”

You mean, to avoid them and hide yourself better?

“It will work.”

But at what cost. Julian?

“Hmm?”

Don't you think it is time? To let them know you are here? It would be easier, more convenient for everyone. 

“Let's... let's wait till we'll be sure it is them. And then worry about what to do next.”

He finds Mr Chouinard in the ticket booth, flipping through lots of papers and making lots of noises of distress.

“Mr Chouinard?”

“What?!”

Janitor flinches and takes a step back.

“Oh, it is you. Forgive me, didn't meant to yell  at you . Zis show will be death of me. Ugh. Why does it need to be so complicated?”

Indeed, Mr Chouinard seems to get a year older with each day of preparations and looks as if he is already regretting this cooperation sorely.

“Um...”

“Can I help you, Julian? I don't have much time now.”

“Um... Yes. I thought... I don't want to get in a way of... of the crew. And... cause problems? You know? And I thought... Is there any schedule? Of their work? So I can... not get in the way?”

“Zat's... Yes. Zat is actually a very sensible idea. You come up with it yourself?”

“Y-yes?”

“Ah, good, good. Yes. Yes. We don't need more drama 'ere right now. Yes.” He rummages through some papers until he finds one with a colourful scheme. “They'll be putting up a magazine at ze grounds tonight so go as planned. And... let's see... that staircase... and the room over 'ere. Yes.” He hands him a list. “Those parts will be occupied tomorrow so you need to clean zem tonight. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good. I'll make you a list for every day. And, before you go, make sure to clean the bathrooms and way to them before morning, right?”

Hmmm. So you did find a way to avoid them. Well, let's see how it goes.

For a few days, it seems to go splendid. Even tho the Tower is busy now all day and all night Janitor manages to be alone most of the time, unless he chooses not to. And right now, he cleans the upper deck, all alone, humming again. Until the Ticketbooth Clerk emerges from the staircase.

“Hi. You're so easy to find now. Just follow the sound.”

“Oh.”

“That's actually nice. I don't need to chase around the tower now” he says, wrapping arms around him. “And, they, I mean, clerks and stuff, started to gossip that ghost of the tower came back.”

“But... I'm not... I'm real.”

“Of course you are. Some even saw you. They think it is a  different  ghost now. Clerks are joking with the show crew that they heard disembodied singing or saw disappearing figures. It was you, right?”

“I... don't know.”

“But  you  never meet any ghosts here?”

“No?”

“If I didn't knew you I would ask if you're scaring them on purpose.”

“I would never...”

“I know! I know. You would never do such a mean thing.” He stands on his toes to put a kiss on Janitor's forehead. “So, are we going? Or do you need to finish here?”

“Noo, was just cleaning here to have a head start for tomorrow.”

Ohhh, look at you! How ambitious, to go ahead of schedule! You're actually doing your job! And not only a bare minimum, actually planning ahead. That's fantastic! 

Janitor blushes.

“Okay. That's great. Let's go then.”

They head to the cinema, for a screening of one of the Janitor's favourite movies, even tho Nunnally is sure, that he knows every frame of it. But it is still so delightful to watch him, eyes gleaming, draw in surprised gasps, reliving it as if he is watching it for the first time, at the same time mouthing soundlessly every line. 

After, they are strolling lazily through the city, Janitor singing a duet from the movie, inviting Nunnally to choose a part and join in. 

“C'mon. Sing with me! It is not hard.” And he starts to vocalize a high note, trying not to laugh as he reaches registers so high only whales can hear him now.

“No, no, no. You're doing an excellent job on your own.”

In fact, Ticketbooth Clerk wouldn't mind to sing together, even on the street, when lots of heads are turning toward them. But he enjoys the other boy singing both parts too much, especially when Janitor tries to change his voice between them. Nonetheless, he hums instruments parts and snaps his fingers to add some rhythm. As they're goofing around none of them notices the first raindrops until the sky starts pouring heavily. 

As Janitor need to do some work before morning, they head back to the Tower, running through the rain from the archway to archway, chuckling at each other and stealing kisses, already soaked. 

They reach the Tower, nod to the new night watchman who answers them with a wave, as then they run up to the janitor's closet, hand in hand. Upstairs they change into dry clothes, eyeing each other shyly. Nunnally looks peculiarly in Janitor's oversized sweater and spare pants, so tattered, he was only wearing them when the other pair was drying.

“Now I even look like you. Noo, stay” he asks, as the Janitor starts to look through cleaning supplies. “Aren't you usually letting Tower to be cleaned by the rain?”

“Yeah, but I must clean some under-roof parts before crew will be here.”

“Eiffel's apartment?”

Janitor laughs and nods. They head upstairs, taking a broom and some rugs, the Ticketbooth Clerk helping him.

Nunnally sits by the piano while Janitor dusts furniture, humming to the cheerful melodies.

When he's done cleaning, or let's be honest, pretending to clean, he sits down behind the piano “to rest for a moment”. In all fairness, he does that to look at Nunnally's sweet smile and to sing for him.

Suddenly the door swings open and the silhouette of a woman appears in them.

“Julian? Oh. Sorry.”

They both go silent. Janitor, who was sitting on the floor, behind the piano, tenses as he recognises that voice. He presses himself against the wall, hoping Leticia hadn't noticed him.

“I thought... Never mind.”

“Um... Can I help you?”

“No, no. Thought that I heard a familiar voice. Sorry to bother you.”

She glances over at the boy and cleaning supplies around him and leaves. 

“That was weird. What's wrong?”

Only after a minute or two Janitor dares to speak, very quietly.

“That... that was Leticia. What is she doing here?”

“Leticia?  That  Leticia?”

Janitor nods.

“But how?”

“I don't know.”

He does. They  are  here.

Chapter Text

In his dreams they are disappointed now. And he can't shrug this feeling even when he's awake. They don't say anything. How could they? In his dreams he's invisible to them too. But he can tell, all of them think he  could  do better.

And it's getting harder and harder to hide on the Tower. Right now, we are finding the Janitor as he's following the new night watchman and Jacques! They are looking  for  the Janitor, as the crew has to sweep floors in one of the rooms before putting equipment there. Why are you doing this?

“Shhh.”

Do you want to talk to them?

“No.”

Then why don't you just go?

“I'm making a reconnaissance.”

Fancy phrasing of eavesdropping. And, even tho Janitor could just go and hide, since apparently talking to them isn't an option, he sneaks behind them to overhear their conversation.

“Guy is weird. But fine.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. Some heavy beating messed up with his head or something. He's scared of people now. And, apparently, to avoid them, decided to hide in the most crowded place in the country.”

“Huh.”

“But he's okay when you get used to that. Completely harmless. You just need to walk a lot if he doesn't want to be found.”

“Yeah. We were working with a kid like that. Totally invisible until he screw up something again. Then you could just follow the disaster.”

“Why are people so incompetent?”

“I know, right?”

“Sometimes he hums when he's working so you could just follow that.”

“That's... useful.”

“But not right now, apparently. Tell you what, we can split up to cover more ground. I'll send him there when I'll find him. Might be running around with that clerk.”

“You guys are not overworking yourself here.”

“Mr Chouinard goes easy on that guy for some reason. He should have fire him already, like twenty times now.”

Janitor sighs, quietly. He would very much like to help them, but it  still  doesn't seem like the right time to him. Maybe you should go now. Before it'll make you more upset.

“Jeez, we'll never finish if we'll spend all night looking for a broom. Don't you guys have a supplies closet or something?”

“Yeah, but he lives there.”

“What?”

“Yeah. We can check there but getting through his things if he's not there... Like, I don't know what is a tower's stuff and what's his so... that would be inappropriate, I think.”

“What if I will just grab a broom and let him know if we see him?”

“s igh  Yeah.”

Janitor is torn now. He doesn't want them to invade his closet but even more, he doesn't want to show himself like that, just casually bringing cleaning supplies. So he doubles his efforts to hide from the crew, even tho he's very tempted to follow them. Maybe...

“No.”

But...

“Not yet.”

So Janitor continues his silly and futile attempt not to be discovered and stubbornly refuses to do what should be done.

“Now you're just mean.”

And you're insufferably indecisive.

“Gosh, what happened to you? Shouldn't you be, you know, supportive? And helpful?”

Should you consider that  I  might miss them too?

“Oh.”

And be tired of all that waiting? I miss narrating exciting events. Uncovering mysteries. Yearnings of the heart. Unexpected developments. You know. Hidding already lost its thrill.

“Oh, I'm sorry it is too boring for you.”

Thank you. You could do better in the last few days. Anyway, would you skip already to the part when you do what is necessary? At this point, you're just tormenting yourself. Why won't you choose one of them to go to? Talk it through with them, one at a time.

“Hmmm.”

And after a long silence he says:

“Okay.”

Really?

“Yeah. You're right. Maybe it's... yeah. Let's... Let's find Leticia. She'll be... Yeah.”

Cautiously he goes down, hoping he'll find Leticia - preferably alone, in a place from where he could easily escape if necessary. It is almost morning and he grows more or more nervous, having a heart in the throat. Calm down. You said you were ready, right?

“N-no. I'll... I'll try but...”

Leticia is kind.

“Y-yeah. And-and-and might snap me in half if she would like to.”

Oh. How about Jacques then? He was always nice to you. And you already know where he is.

“Yeah... But... but if Leticia will say it is okay, everyone will listen to her? So that's... you know...”

“Oh, zere you are!”

He jumps and yelps, scaring also Mr Chouinard. It takes them a moment to calm down and stop screaming at each other.

“Huuu. Are we good now? Good, good. Come now, Julian, I need you in the ticket booth.”

“Oh. Should I bring something...?”

Mr Chouinard considers it for a moment.

“Noo. You'll disappear again if I lose sight of you, won't you?”

“No, Mr Chouinard.”

“No. Okay. Let's go, it'll take a minute. And I can go home...”

They go down, Mr Chouinard murmuring sighs and complaints about show organization and recklessness of his employees. Morning is very pleasant, sky is clear, warm light emanates from the ticket booth as some figures move inside it. In this light, Mr Chouinard looks even more tired. You shouldn't give him more to worry.

“Yeah.”

“What was that?”

“No, no, sorry, just...” Janitor stops, suddenly, and ducks down behind Mr Chouinard. “Oh God, oh God, oh God, no, no, no...” and he runs away.

Janitor runs back to the Tower, up the stairs, passing surprised Nunnally, which makes him hesitate and finally, few floors up, stop. He takes a few deep breaths. Deep breaths. Good. And takes a step back. 

Takes a step back. 

Please?

“I'm trying, I just...”

Aaand... He just stands there. Don't you want to...

“I do! I really, really want to go there. Just... can't.”

And not knowing what to do, Janitor sits on the steps, listening, as someone's climbing after him. Is that the Ticketbooth Clerk? What is he doing here so early? Oh no. Oh, no, no, no. He was here all night, waiting for you. Remember? You were supposed to clean the staircase and go back. But you started to chase after the new night watchman and Jacques and you forgot. 

“Hmmm...”

But Janitor can't focus on that now. What were  they  doing in the ticket booth?

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, what I'm gonna do?”

Just go there. You saw, they were waiting. Universe is helping you out and staging everything. Even  It  got impatient. You were so close. 

“But not... Mr Cameron. He'll kill me if he sees me.”

You know he wouldn't. Not really. It's not that easy to strangle someone. 

Ticketbooth Clerk comes over and sits beside him. And seeing how stressed the other boy is, he puts arms around him. They stay silent, only quiet appeals of Mr Chouinard calling after the Janitor somewhere below.

“Sorry.”

“What? What for?”

“I... left you. In the closet. Sorry.”

“Oh, honey, don't be. I didn't even noticed. I mean... I missed you. But you have lots of work right now so that's understandable. Did... What happened?”

Janitor does not answer. As he reaches to take Ticketbooth Clerk's hand he brushes over his own neck and shivers. Intertwining fingers so he won't let go, protecting head and neck. But he can't even tell if Mr Cameron's threats were real or just part of his story. All he knows is that he can't face him. 

“It's Mr Cameron? He'll kill me.”

“What? But he's...”

“They are here.”

“Really? Weren't they at the circus?”

“They're making a new show. Here. At the Tower.”

“Oh. Ohhh! I meet Jacques then! I think.”

“Jacques?”

“Yes. They were looking for brooms in your closet. We talked a little and he was quite okay.”

“Oh.”

“It's kinda weird to meet someone who you know as a character from a story.”

“Um. Mr Chouinard wants me to meet them. Now.”

“But... That's... that's great, isn't it? That they are here. You were upset that we missed them at the circus.”

“They can't see me, he can't see me...” He doesn't know why but it seems very important. “Oh God, what I'm gonna do? They can't see me... I can't... I'm not... not yet...”

“Julian. Calm down. Take a deep breath. And another. And breath. Okay. Better? Why you can't meet them?”

“They'll... they'll be... angry. At me.”

“But aren't they... at least in your stories... you seemed to get along. Why would they be angry at you?”

“Cos I was hiding... so long.”

“If you were hiding, they don't know that you are here and don't know how long you've been hiding.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. And if this is what I think it is, they want to meet all employees of the tower. About some papers. And Jacques seemed chill. You'll be fine. You wanted to meet them, didn't you?” 

“Yeah. But... And Mr Chouinard would fire me if I won't go. But if I'll do, Mr Cameron will.”

“He can't fire you. You don't work for him.”

“Oh. You sure?”

“I'm pretty sure.”

“Even if he asks Mr Chouinard to do that?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“I'm sure. You can ask him. So... You still don't remember what you did?”

“N-no.”

“But you're very sorry for it?”

“Um.”

“What if we just ask them? I mean... I can.”

“Would you?”

“What?”

“Go there, instead of me?”

“What?”

“Um... Sorry.”

“You can't do something like that.”

“Sorry.”

Suddenly, half floor above them, the door opens.

“Julian? Are you zere? What was zat? I don't 'ave time to chase you around ze tower! What was zat?!”

“Sorry, Mr Chouinard.”

“Good evening, Mr Chouinard.”

“Good. Yes. Can we just cut that nonsense and go?”

“I'm... You won't fire me, Mr Chouinard?”

“What? Why would I fire you? What have you done, Julian?”

“If Mr Cameron...” he can't finish that sentence, starting to breathe erratically. Ticketbooth Clerk soothingly puts hand on his back.

“Breath. It's okay. Mr Chouinard? I think Julian is too... starstruck to go there. We'll... talk about it and be there in a minute. Would that be okay?”

“Ughhh. Fine. I'll wait downstairs. I need to go home, not chase...” His voice fades out as he goes to the elevator.

“s igh  Give me your jacket.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“And a hat, let's do that properly. I'll try to find out what they think, okay?”

Janitor nods, still in eye contact and repeats:

“Thank you. You're so good.”

“Don't mention it.”

“Sorry for making you do that.”

“I don't want you to be killed by this Mr Cameron. Don't worry. It will be fine. Maybe even fun. To be honest, I'm thrilled to meet them now. You'll be here?”

“I'll... no. I'll go.”

“Would you go somewhere when I can find you?”

Janitor nods and stands up. 

“And would you... Think what to do next, okay?”

Chapter Text

They all look up at Nunnally when he enters the booth in his disguise. 

“Hi. I'm the janitor. You wanted to see me?”

“But...”

“It's fine Mr Chouinard. I'll explain later. Sorry I kept you all waiting.”

“Oh. I saw you, ze other day, oui? He was playing and singing, beatyful, you should 'ear 'im, John. Maybe we should put 'im in the show.”

“I don't...”

“I don't think it would be a good idea. Remember how it ended the last time?”

“How? If I may ask.”

“Badly” John Cameron gives Leticia a dead look.

“Oh.”

“You exaggerate, John. Anyway... We wouldn't insist on meeting you, we all 'ave a lot of work now, but... We wanted to talk to you. See, there was zis elderly gentleman. Mr Lowery, I zink?”

“Leticia. They don't need a crazy story.”

“I want to explain. He came to us some time ago. It was very strange. He knew a lot about us, it was terrifying, really. So, he told us he knows zat all from a man named Julian. And zat zis man, he works at the Tower, as the janitor. We thought zat he meet our friend and we wanted to see 'im. But if  you  are the janitor, then, you know, he must have been mistaken.”

“I told you! It was a waste of time. Never mind. Here. Disclosure agreement. Read it, sign it, give it to miss Saltier. And keep away from the show, you'll never pay out if you break that contract.”

“John! Don't worry. It's a standard contract, really. Every other employee already signed it. Just try not to interfere, please. You know, don't spy on the show or try to steal anything.” And she laughs.

They hand the Ticketbooth Clerk a piece of paper and leave. As soon as door closes Mr Chouinard starts to wave his hands and mutter unidentified words in a low voice. 

“What? Why?”

“Sorry, Mr Chouinard. Julian... It was too much for him. But he'll do his job, I'm sure he's doing it even now. And... sorry, I need to go.”

Ticketbooth Clerk runs out, nervous, still uncertain if this is a good idea. But they're just standing there, near the tower's entrance, talking. So he takes a few deep breaths, lets go of a piece of twine around his wrist and approaches them, hoping it will be okay in the end.

“Miss Saltier? Can I speak with you?”

“Would it take long?”

“John!”

“What? I have things to do.”

“Oh I know what  zings  you mean and I'm going to cut your supply.”

“Ugh. You...”

“John, it's seven in the morning! Zat's starting to go unhealthy. You'll... where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here. You'll find me in... you'll find me, Leticia.”

And John Cameron leaves, changing direction three times before disappearing from their sight.

“Forgive 'im, he's very stressed. So, how can I help you?”

“Um. Yes. It's about Julian.”

“Yyy?”

“Oh. The real one, I mean the one you knew, I think. I'm Nunnally, by the way. Hi.”

“What?”

“Julian. He asked me to... He's here.”

“Mon Dieu! Where?”

“Here, he works for the Tower. Wait, please... I think he needs a little more time. And he would like to meet with you all but he is too scared. I don't know how he was before but it seems... I think Julian is not well. He's very lost. And whatever  I  can do... It might not be enough to help him.”

She reassuringly puts a hand on his shoulder.

“And... and he might need some of  you  to fill gaps and help him. To confront his past, you know? And let him know it is okay. If I may... what happened between you?”

“He didn't told you?”

“For some reason, he doesn't remember. Whatever it was... it had a huge impact on him. And I think that he was  imagining  you all for so long he's not sure what really happened and what was only a dream. And have no idea why but is scared out of his mind how you'll react.”

“Huhhh. Poor thing. It seems like him. He... Can we sit somewhere? It is freezing 'ere.”

In the ticket booth she continues:

“Julian, he was working with us for some time. More an apprentice than an employee, really. You know, cleaning, helping out, all that. He was  terrible  at it. But, you know” she laughs and the Ticketbooth Clerk smiles shyly “very enthusiastic. We kept, him mostly out of pity if I'm being honest. It's a long story but he became one of our performers. A stage hypnotist. And quickly, was a rising star. Although, if you'd ask Mr Cameron he would say 'a shooting star', like, disappearing before granting any wishes. Hmmm. And then, he became overconfident.”

“Julian? Really?”

She laughs.

“Yeah, I know. But he can be pretty reckless sometimes, you know.”

And Nunnally remembers that time on the girders, which are almost second home to the Janitor, to the point he forgot that regular people might hurt themselves there. And how he never wears any safety gear climbing there. Or climbing into the vents. Or... 

“Yeah.” he nods thoughtfully.

“And 'e... he was trying to prove 'imself. I know, he was doing it for ze love of ze show. Was trying to keep the audience's attention cos we were, like, slowly losing it. And 'e made a very dangerous stunt, you know endangering ozers and injuring 'imself. And zen... he disappeared from the 'ospital! Zey said he discharged 'imself and walked off, but he didn't returned to work or to his place, or didn't contacted anyone. Just puff! Disappeared.”

“After zat, we were in big trouble, you know. Accidents on stage are not good for business. And... and our new star performer mysteriously disappeared, so that's bad. We needed to cancel some shows, find someone to fill in... But zat was a blessing in ze end. Cos we managed to use press interest, to tell about ze changes and the new quality and give chance to new artists... We entered a new era before we fall out of style. And you know, before becoming some kind of relict. He actually saved ze show zat way, you know.”

They exchange smiles and nods.

“And, after zat, we were looking for 'im. But at some point, we couldn't anymore. And zen, when we were back in Paris, this elderly gentleman came to us... It didn't seemed likely zat Julian would become a janitor at ze Eiffel Tower, but you know. We came to look for 'im, and for a field visit before the show, of course, but he wasn't 'ere. Or at least we thought so. He's good at hiding, you know.”

“Yeah. Thank you. For telling me that. I think... If... I think he respects  you , very much miss Saltier...

“Awww.”

“...so if you would... could talk to him? Or choose someone who was his friend before and ask them...”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much. If..”

“No problem.” 

“...if you give me some time I'll try to convince him but in a meantime... if you could give him some space? I think it scares him away.”

“Right.”

To his surprise, Leticia hugs him.

“Merci. I'm glad he have someone like you.”

“Oh.” Nunnally blushes and smiles. “And, sorry, I need to ask. You won't hurt him?”

“What?”

“He... So he didn't wanted to come here tonight cos he was scared that Mr Cameron would kill him. Or get him fired.”

Leticia laughs.

“Oh. No, no, no. John might be mad, but I don't zink so. Even if, I'll manage John, don't you worry.”

In the meantime, Janitor runs out and hides on the girders, hoping he didn't get Nunnally in trouble. He's very nervous, even more so, when he hears some voices below – it is too early for tourists to be here. And someone is approaching, climbing the girders! There is no place to hide! On the girders he is hidden from everyone below but up here he is completely exposed! Who might that be? He leans, to gaze whom it may be and startles Margot. She gasps and falls back, she's falling! Luckily she was climbing with a safety rope. He manages to grab it, it slips a bit at his fingerless gloves, but Janitor holds it tighter, even tho it burns his fingers. And he manages to slow her descent enough that she gets a grip on the girder below!

Some voices shout from the deck.

“Whoa! Are you okay?”

“Yeah! I'm alright. There is...”

She catches Janitor's eye, as he's mouthing 'Please, don't' with a terrified, pleading look. She decides to give him a chance.

“… a wee frost here. Just slipped. 'll be more careful.”

“Need any help?”

“Nah, I'll manage.”

She climbs back to the Janitor and looks at him as if she's trying to assess if he's real. Then gives him a big hug, which in a way feels like she's still checking if what she sees is a physical form.

“How? What... ? Umhhh.”

“H-hi.”

“How...? What brings you up here?”

“I... I live here. And work.”

“What do you mean 'here'? Here here? On that spot?”

He laughs a little.

“Noo. On the Tower. I'm the janitor here.”

“So... all people who saw... or heard... You were here the entire time?”

“Just... few months”

Margot punches him in the arm, then apologizes for it and laughs.

“We thought it was a ghost! Why didn't you show yourself?”

“I... I wasn't ready.”

“For what? We were looking for you, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! We missed you.”

“But... Mr Cameron...”

“Oh. Yeah. He might... yeah.”

“He'll kill me.”

“Nooo. I mean... Well, he might want to, out of a habit mostly. But you know, he was very worried.”

“Really?”

“'think so. Well, you know him, he doesn't show, but he gives the vibe. Trust me, Leticia wouldn't let him. Just make sure she's around.”

“Thanks.”

“But yeah, I get why you're hidin'. Wouldn't know what to say either.”

“Margot? You okay?”

“Yeah!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Ughhh... Aaa... fella. Maintenance guy. From the tower.“

“What?”

“Yeah. They wanted to help. Make sure we won't break anything.”

“Why they didn't told us? Margot! You sure it isn't... you know?”

“Know what?”

“You know.”

“Jacques...!”

“A ghost.”

She laughs and gives Janitor a look. He gets a hint and calls out, trying to change his voice:

“Ummm. No. Hi. I... work here. And help. I'll help.”

She nods and passes him some rope.

“Would you help with that?”

They work together on a cold morning. Janitor very much appreciates the comfortable silence between them. He doesn't dare to ask about anything and she doesn't seem to acknowledge how much time passed since they were working together and acts like it was only yesterday.

“Would you pass me...”

“This one?”

“Yeah. And the next one. Thanks. Do you know any knots, y'know, how to tie them?”

“Um...”

“Alright. Just put ropes on positions, I'll tie them.”

By the time they're done sun is high and Tower is busy with tourists. Before she climbs down she grins and gives him another hug.

“Good to see you.”

“Um. You too. Could you... Can you not tell the others? I don't want to... rush into it.”

“Sure. My mouth is shut. Prepare somethin' good” she winks. 

Janitor stays and thinks about it, overlooking the city. From below he hears crew conversation:

“All done. We can go now.”

“Is he... should we wait for the tower guy?”

“Nah. He got some things to work on.”

***

Only after he's sure that all crew left the Tower, Janitor goes down, startling some tourists, as he jumps between them. Not paying them any attention, he runs down, hoping the Ticketbooth Clerk is still there. He is. As soon as he notices the Janitor, he excuses himself and dashes to meet him.

“You okay? I have so much...” in the rush he takes Janitor's hand, which makes the other boy hiss. “...to tell... What? Is...”

“No... Nothing. Just grazed my hand a bit. It's okay. It happens all the time.”

“What? Let me see. You need to clean that!”

“It's just...”

“It isn't bleeding anymore but you get your hands dirty all the time. You'll get an infection. C'mon, we have a first aid kit in the booth. How does it happen?”

Janitor quietly, carefully recalls his meeting with Margot while the Ticketbooth Clerk tends to his hand. Other clerks are looking with curiosity and are trying to overhear them. Nunnally pours some hydrogen peroxide, which stings, and then proceeds with covering Janitor's fingers with band-aids, one by one.

“And after that... talking to her... I think... I think that I'm ready.”

Chapter Text

“I think that I'm ready.”

And, which surprises the Janitor, the Ticketbooth Clerk is more enthusiastic about it than expected. He lights up, with a relieved smile and incredibly sparkly eyes. For the Janitor, it's the sweetest praise. 

“Really?”

“Um.”

Nunnally hugs him briefly.

“I'm so glad! Oh, and you can have your hat back.” He produces it from the inner pocket of his jacket and gently fixes it on the other boy's head. “There. You are yourself again. Khmmm... So... I... I was talking with miss Saltier.”

“Oh.”

“She was very nice.”

“Um.”

“They... So she said, they missed you. Still do. And you're welcome there. If you want to.”

Now Janitor is the one that embraces the other boy tightly.

“I... It... Ah... Thank you so much. I shouldn't have...”

“Don't mention it. It turned out not to be that scary? But... sigh You know, I love being your knight in shining armor, I really do. And it's thrilling to be able to help you. But... it is also terrifying? That whenever there is a problem your first reaction is to escape. And... and leave everyone... me... behind.”

“Nunnally...”

“I know it's a reflex, that... that you were on your own for a long time, it's natural. But... You're not alone anymore. Would... Could you try to remember that?”

“Um. Sorry, I'll... Um...”

“That's okay.”

“Ekhm. Nunny? We're kind of under a siege here? Mind snuggling your boyfriend later?”

“sigh Give me a sec! You'll be okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And will get yourself ready for a meeting?”

“Mhm.”

“And we'll decide what to do in the evening, okay?”

“We? But you were... supposed to go home tonight. ?”

“And miss all this? No way!”

“Nunny, Christ, get back here.”

“Coming! I think... You can stay here. If you want.”

“Thank you.” he looks up from Nunnally's kind smile at other clerks and suddenly feels the need not to be among people. “But um... don't even remember when I slept. I should...”

“Right.”

“Y-you should go back to work. Before they'll get mad at you. Sorry for interrupting” he says louder, even tho it is clear that all clerks were listening anyway. They weren't even hiding it, chuckling and making mocking remarks under their breaths.

“Right.” Ticketbooth Clerk puts a little kiss on Janitor's band-aids covered hand before returning to his post. “Oh, would you put back a kit, it...”

“I will.”

“Oh, and your jacket, it's on the rack.”

“Thanks.”

“And eat something. Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?”

They exchange smiles and Janitor leaves, putting his jacket over two sweaters he's wearing already. He heads back towards the janitor's closet, trying to script a conversation with Leticia, repeating it in his head over and over. Legs lead him, as he doesn't notice neither tourists nor surroundings. Until, after turning a corner and bumping into yet another person, he hears:

“Hey! Watch where you're... Julian?”

Janitor looks up and finds Jacques, towering above him! Everything goes quiet, both in Janitor's head and on the deck, where chatter seems to suddenly die for a moment. And before anyone draws a breath to say anything more he... Oh, no. Of course. Janitor runs away.

“Wait!”

He feels a brush of Jacques' fingers on his jacket, as the stagehand attempts to grab him but manages to slip out and dive between people. 

^Jq “Guys? Have you seen...” 

^Ll “Was that...” 

^P “What?” 

^F “Yeah, I think I saw him too.”

^P “What? What did you see? Margot, what are laughing about?”

^Jq “Guys, we need to go after him!”

^Ll “Jaques! Jaques, stop! You're...” but Jaques' already recedes hurriedly. “...going to chase some scared kid around the tower. sigh”

^M “Should we help him?”

^Ll “Margot!”

^P “Jacques or a kid?”

^F “Yeah.”

^M “C'mon, I wanna see what happens.”

^F “Yeah.”

More crew members join the chase, pushing their way between baffled tourists.

^Ll “No! Stop! sigh Fine. 'You going?”

^P “Nah. Let's enjoy the view. What are they run after anyway?”

In a meantime, aware only about part of this conversation, Janitor runs, frantically, dodging tourists who started to pay attention to the cartoon-like chase. Why are you running?

“I... Um... don't... cos they're chasing me!”

He looks back, seeing Jacques almost right behind him, Margot and Francois not far after. He reaches a staircase, full of people. Smart, but very rudely, Janitor cuts into line, right before a group of old ladies, who are arguing at the front. He's skipping two steps at a time and manages to put some distance between them. And after dodging some couple, Janitor reaches the highest point. There is nowhere else to go!

“Th-there is...”

Out of breath, shutting the last glance at the staircase's door, he runs up to the railings. Someone screams. Someone else grabs him by a jacket, thinking that they're saving some fool from jumping off the Tower. But Janitor manages to free himself out of it, it is too big after all, and disappears on the girders, before the crew reaches a deck. Why did you do that?

“Hey! Whoah! Where did he go?”

“Where?”

“Don't look at me, 'm not climbing after him.”

“No, no, no, it's okay, sir. It's not a thief, we thought...”

“Jacques, stop! You can't...”

Commotion downstairs swallows stagehands debate with disorientated tourists. But Janitor doesn't hear it anyway. He can't catch his breath, climbing higher and higher, until something makes him stop. He remembers. And it hurts. Does seeing them all caused this new memory? Or was it a chase and a pain, as cold air is bursting through his lungs, bringing back uncomfortably familiar feelings? But he remembers it all now. And despite icy breaths filling him and little spats of snow surrounding him with every blow of the wind, Janitor feels warm. 

Now he knows there is a chance he might be forgiven and finally sees what for. And he is less embarrassed by what he did and more of how stupid it was to run away. How silly thing to do it was, disappear instead of letting them help him.

Sun is almost setting when he decides to go down. It is not easy now, as metal is covered with little patches of frost and snow. And his limbs grew cold and numb. But slowly, carefully, Janitor manages to reach a deck. Oh, thank God. Now only jump and you can get warm in your closet.

“Y-yeah.”

Ready? And Janitor jumps safely on the deck. And... Oh, no! His fingers, covered in bandaids and numb from cold, are letting go of the girder too soon! Luckily, his feet almost touch the ground, but only for a second as his upper body balances on the railing, momentum pushing him back into the darkness, into a fall!

In the last second, he balances back, landing on the deck, with an enormous clatter, startling some people. One of them approaches him. And suddenly, grabs the front of his sweater, pulling him away from the girders!

“Whoah! Kid! The hell you've been doing there?!”

“Au... Um... I...”

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah. I'm fine.” He looks up. “Oh. H-hi.”

And towering figure pulls him into a tight embrace.

“The fuck you've been doing kid?”

And even if Jacques would not squeeze all air out of him, he wouldn't have an answer.

***

They head down, Jacques chaperoning the Janitor. 

“Where... We're going that way, kid.”

“Oh. I should...”

“No. Not letting you out of sight. I'm not going to let you disappear again.”

“Um... could we just... I-I need to go to...”

“No way! You need...”

“...the ticket booth. Just for a sec. My... I need to see if Nunnally is... Just a sec, I'll be right back, I swear!”

He manages to escape from under Jacques' arm and, making soothing gestures, slowly approaches the booth. Someone is there and, to Janitor's relief, it's Nunnally. 

“Hi! You...”

Ticketbooth Clerk looks up from the papers and sighs. The Janitor wasn't expecting such cold greeting and sinks a bit, wide smile drooping a little. 

“Here” Nunnally points at his jacket. “Someone brought it to the ticket booth.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“I heard... You scared loads of people.”

“I... um...”

“Including me.”

“Sorry. For that. And-and making you... are you sad?”

“sigh No. I don't know. More like... disappointed? I mean... we talked about it in the morning. And you... avoided them again. I thought... You didn't have to lie to me.”

“I didn't! I really thought... But then I saw Jacques and-and the crew and they... sigh I was... going to... I swear. But I was ready... getting ready to talk with Leticia? And this... didn't expect them... there and got startled and... But it's okay now, that was a good thing! I remember now!”

“Remember? What?... Oh. The...”

“Yes. And I meet Jacques so...”

“Hi.”

They both jump a little as they both forgot of stagehand presence. They look at Jacques who stares at them, suddenly realising that he shouldn't be part of that conversation.

“I guess... I'll wait outside? Okay.”

“Um... So as you can see... I don't have anything to run from anymore. And you don't have to... I-I'll save myself this time?”

“Julian...”

“I just wanted... to tell you. I-I was such an idiot. And... we can... I'll go. There. Meet them. Now. And um...” he anxiously reaches for the comfort of the other boy's hand. “Thank you. I-um so glad. For you. That you are here. Hm. N-now I know that you are one of the best of what happened to me this year and um... um-I'm not sure if I deserved that. But if-if you'll let me... still love you, I'll do better.”

Janitor holds his breath when the Ticketbooth Clerk looks at him, for the longest time. Finally, the other boy stands up, climbs on his toes and puts a gentle kiss on Janitor's forehead.

“Of course. You're trying, I know. So. Shall we?”

Jacques is waiting for them, smoking outside the booth.

“Finally! Are we going?”

“Um.”

“Good. Leticia will kill me if we'll be even more late.”

He leads them towards the stage at the base of the Tower. It is after opening hours, but as they're going, Tower seems to be even busier than during the day. 

“W-why is there so many people?”

“For the New Year's Show, you know?”

“Show... Today?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“It's a New Years Eve.”

“When did you though...”

“Is it?”

“...it would be, kid? Really? You don't know what day it is?”

“Not really.” he looks up at Nunnally, who answers with a placable smile. “Um... Could we... I don't want to interrupt...”

“C'mon, we don't have too much time.”

Indeed, people all around them are excited for New Year's show - waiting to take their places, trying to get inside despite not having an invitation or even just to get close enough to catch glimpses of the show from afar.

Hesitant, Janitor goes, grasping Nunnally's hand, murmuring under his breath:

“Ughhh. Why tonight? It was all going so well.”

It still goes. What's the matter?

“They're making a show. And if I'll go I'll ruin it.”

You can't know that.

“I'll ruin it! I always do.”

Are you planning to ruin the show?

“No. I never... No.”

Do you want to ruin it?

“No! But I always... whatever I do it...”

“Julian? You're talking to yourself again.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“That's alright.” Ticketbooth Clerk says and adds a reassuring hand squeeze. “Is it helping?”

And Janitor thinks about it. And then thinks so more. For so long, it's almost offensive. 

“sigh A little.”

Thank you. Right, where were we? Ah, yes. They go to look for show people and just reached the backstage. No one pays them any attention when Jacques sneaks them into one of the rooms in which the crew keeps their stuff. 

“Stay here I'll...”

The door swings open, hitting the wall!

“Jacques! For the love of... Where 'ave you've been? We're starting in an 'our!”

“Yeah, yeah...”

“Don't 'yeah, yeah' me! I still can...”

“Guess whom I found!”

And he pushes forward the Janitor, who smiles faintly. 

“Um... Leticia...”

She throws herself at him, lifting him in bones crushing hug.

“Julian! Mon Dieu! Où diable étais-tu?!”

“I... um...”

She shouts some more things, but he does not understand them, maybe because of the increasing lack of oxygen. There is a lot of people backstage, rushing around in commotion but when Leticia shouts to them everyone stops and everything goes quiet. She puts Janitor down and he takes a deep breath, ready to run again - everyone is looking at him now. But Ticketbooth Clerk's look gives him enough courage to say:

“Um... H-hi... everyone. Um... I'm sorry. I should have... ummm... you know. sigh Sorry about that.”

In the commotion everyone goes closer, trying to greet him, hug or at least give him a pat. They are all so loud, showering him with questions, so close, obscuring the light, crowding him but in a surprisingly friendly way, which makes Janitor feels safe and warm. 

“Okay, okay, enough everyone! You'll suffocate him! Now, get back to work!”

“But Leticia...”

“Oh, come on...”

“What?”

“Hey, you've got...”

“No, no, no, we have a show to do, we start in 55 minutes! We'll do the show, we'll go to the party, we'll keep Julian 'ere all night. Alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“You're right.”

“Good! Now, everyone, places! And you” she turns to the Janitor “you'll wait around here? And join us after the show?”

“Okay.”

“I'm counting on that.”

“I know. Um-I-I'll be there. Here.”

“Bien. It's so good to see you again.”

“Y-you too. Have a nice show.”

She smiles and leaves them to shout at someone who, despite her clear instruction, brought some props to the wrong side of the stage. Ticketbooth Clerk comes closer and takes his hand.

“See? It wasn't that bad.”

“Um.”

“Are you okay?”

“Um. Fine. I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Um. What? I really... I'm just a bit overwhelmed at the moment.”

“That's alright.” Nunnally hugs him. He has no idea what worries Janitor now but is trying to take his mind off it. “You even get invited to a party!”

“Yeah. ”

“Can I... go to?”

“You... Of course! I mean... I'm not going without you.”

“Thank you. I... You know, I had plans for tonight? To make you a surprise.”

“Awww.” 

“Guess it's on you this time.” 

Ticketbooth Clerk laughs and they duck down to avoid being hit by some giant set piece, transported by rushing stagehands.

“Uh. Let-let's stand here. Not to get into someone's way.”

“Right. Oh! I've never been to a post-show party! How do they look? Should we dress up or...?”

“Um... So... I would usually sneak in to take some food and... you know... sneak out. To not attract any attention to myself?”

“That would be hard this time.”

“Um. It will be... weird.”

“It won't! Maybe a little. You didn't like those parties?”

“Noo. I mean. They were nice. I just... couldn't really be there? I think. So I would usually hide. In case anyone would want to talk to me or-or kick me out.”

“They never invited you before?”

“I... I'm not sure? They were telling the crew it is okay to be there but I... wasn't really a crew? Not like... officially?”

“How are you 'officially' becoming a part of the crew?”

“I don't know? I was just... working only for the theatre. And they were-were working there but like... from outside the theatre, not for them just... renting a space or... like... like...”

“I know what you mean.”

“Um... So... but I would hang out with... around them. And they didn't like that... me.. very well.”

“They seem to like you now. They were very happy to see you.”

“Yeah.” He smiles shyly. But also, for the first time in a long, long time, his shoulders seem to relax and back to be a little less stooped with worry. Until someone bumps into them again.

“Uh, guys. Would you... I don't know, don't get in the way?”

“Um. Sorry. C'mon. Let's find some place to watch the show. And don't disturb anyone. I... wouldn't want to ruin it.”

“Why don't you go to the lighting booth? They should have some free space there. And you'll see everything.”

“Oh. M-maybe... yeah. Thank you.”

“Good. Take that” he hands them a big box of cables, parts and other components “and tell Richard I send you. Of you go! They need it asap!”

“Okay.”

“Right. We're helping! This is exciting! I've never been backstage during a show.”

“Um. It could be very busy. And lively. I think... okay, this way.”

Janitor leads them between people, growing more and more nervous. It's alright. They asked you to help.

“I'll mess up.”

You're helping. See? You're already at the booth and nothing happened.”

“We'll see about it. H-hi” he adds louder. “Pierre asked to bring you... this.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“Could we... um... stay here?”

“We won't bother you, sir.”

“Hmmm” he looks closely at them. “Do I know you?”

“Oh. Um... I... I'm...”

“We work here. For the Tower.”

“Ughhh. Right.” he points at an empty corner and starts to rummage through the box. “Just don't touch anything.”

“Of course!”

“Thank you.”

They perch on some boxes in the corner, smiling with anticipation, from their nest greeting people rarely coming in and out of the booth. Lights operator chats with them, glad to have company, not recognizing Janitor or just not caring.

“Okay, boys, have you seen any of it before?”

“No?”

“I don't think so.”

“Then you're in for a treat. Let the show begin!”

He flips the switch and colourful lights start dancing on the stage, to the accompaniment of some sweet, ever-rising tune. Magic begins. They both watch, like enchanted children. 

When the music stops a single beam of light shines on the central figure on the stage. 

“Broadcasting from the Eiffel Tower, the Orbiting Human Circus of the Air!”

[aplause]

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome on this special night, the last night of the year...” John Cameron continues as Janitor cowers, even tho it is not possible for anyone from the stage to see him here. The other boy rests his head on his shoulder and whispers:

“This will be nice.”

“Um.”

“But we can go somewhere else if you want to.”

“N-no that's fine.”

An hour passes by, then another, filled with incredible acts, skilled musicians and wonders no one saw before. Everything goes perfect until...

“Ugh. Something is wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“With the chandelier. For the next act.”

“A what?”

“The construction for a final act. A giant thing-clock, with lightbulbs. There should be a control light visible. It's not responding. Ughhh.”

“Could we... help? Somehow?”

“Yes. Go and tell Leticia... You know Leticia?”

“Yes.”

“And Margot?”

“Mhm.”

“Sorry.”

“She's the only one with papers to work at heights. Go and find either of them...”

“Right.”

“...and tell them. You too” he points at the Janitor. “Someone needs to check if it plugged in correctly.”

“Oh.”

Nunnally squeezes his hand.

“I'll take right and you left side?”

"Stage."

“O-okay.”

“Go, guys! We have eight minutes to go! Someone needs to climb there and fix it. Pronto!”

They run out, Ticketbooth Clerk excitedly but Janitor franticly. You got this! Just find her and pass a message. 

“Oh God... I need... I won't find her in time! It will be all my fault.”

He reaches backstage, out of breath and bumps into Francois.

“Wha! Julian? What are you doing here?

“Margot! Chandelier... We need...”

“What? Calm down!”

“Fix... cables.”

He looks up, at the girders and construction hidden there. Neither Leticia nor Margot are here and he can clearly see a catwalk, leading straight to the construction. He makes a decision.

Before anyone grasps the situation, the Janitor is already balancing above the stage, reaching the centre. He sees Margot on the other end and they exchange signs. She checks on her side but the Janitor already sees where the fault is - one of the lines lifting the chandelier was tangled around the cables and loosened the extension cord connection. He lies down on the catwalk, almost able to reach but... oh, it's too far!

“I... can... only a little bit further...”

He tightens his grip on the metal and leans down even further. Be careful! It's dangerous! You'll... oh no! He reaches too far, loses grip and falls! Oh God!

“Aghhhh!”

Luckily, enormous construction brakes his fall! And orchestra's crescendo swallows his scream. Which continues, as he frantically tries to hold on, while the clock swings dangerously. Are you alright?

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I think so. Huh. Let's... let's fix that.”

He plugs it in and all lights go on at once. 

“Ohhhh! It's beautiful!”

It is. Now. How are you planning to go down? Or up?

“Um... I...”

But before he manages to think of something, everything goes dark. And constructions jerks and starts descent, far too quick! Janitor screams again, until everything stops, again, hanging right above the stage lights, ready to descend into view, a few meters above... is this John Cameron? 

“Oh God. O-okay. I-I'll take a...” he grabs one of the loose lines to secure himself. “And-and... ughhh... I don't know what to do!”

Stay put! Or hide.

“I-I... can't hide! Everyone will be looking at it!”

Not at the back. 

“Oh. Right. Right...”

He carefully tries to navigate in the darkness. But after a moment everything lights up again! And the chandelier clock slowly starts to move.

“No...”

Calm down. Go to the back. That's right. They'll take you down. Eventually. 

“Maybe... If I'll jump from there... no one will notice?”

No, don't! But he already tilts to see if he can somehow escape safely. And moves too fast, too far! All construction swings dangerously! At the last moment, Janitor manages to steady himself by grabbing a line. Thank God! But it is too loose on that side and... it gives in! 

“Ughhh! Nooo!”

He grabs it tighter! And he swings on it! Quite impressive, to be honest. And the audience sees that and exclaims loud “Ohhh!” until, almost reaching the edge of the stage, he tries to jump down and falls, with the loud 'thump', interrupting John Cameron's introduction:

“... the New Years... Aghhh!”

“Au.”

“Wha... Julian?

“Mr Cameron... I can explain...”

“Good God.”

“Sorry... I...”

“Come here, you little bastard.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really...”

But Mr Cameron's tight embrace shocks him into silence. 

“Where the hell have you been? Oh shoot, we're still on the air. Ladies and Gentlemen, yes. The New Years' Clock! Ready for the countdown everyone was waiting for. Yes. But, most importantly, our long lost member, Julian the Janitor, just fell into the stage! He came back! Listeners, hopefully, you too will have your own New Year's miracle. But before that...” he looks at the backstage, where almost entire crew is gathered. Leticia grins and gives them a thumbs up. “Play some music or something” he commands and switches off the microphone. “It is good to have you back. We... I mean... they... missed you.”

“S-sorry.”

And as the hands of the clock measure the last minute of that year, Janitor looks up, at all of the circus crew, audience, and Nunnally, his lovely ticket booth clerk - his family complete, all happy to see him. And he really hopes that it is all real.

And it is. And hope he'll believe me when I'm saying that it is.

There was no ballroom at the Eiffel Tower. Now it is. And if he only wants to, he will sing on its stage.