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A Special Guest

Summary:

The Ticket Taker was hard to impress, politeness was definitely key, as well as honesty, he was never one for the fake types—he favored polite curiousity.

He was supposed to give a pink ticket to that barista, sure, but…

He liked them just enough to give them a blue one instead.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The Circus in town had quickly become a taboo thing, with its macabre style and likely connection to local disappearances, the locals had quickly adopted a distasteful attitude towards the insistent advertising as well as the circus itself.

However, rumors never seemed to stop the curious. If anything, they only seemed to encourage them.

The same went for [Reader}. They worked at the coffee shop nearby, and had a tendency to observe people to pass the time. Although, considering Carol was out today, their time for observation was cut short. They were constantly in and out, serving up orders and smiles to every customer—even the rude or uncanny ones.

Unfortunately for them, the last customer had to be the disturbing kind. He was a man who looked too put together, well dressed, with an uncanny smile on his face that would give most people the chills. [Reader] found themselves relatively unfazed, if a little unsettled. The man hadn’t stopped talking since they handed him his coffee, his voice smooth and soft.

“Well, I promise you, this circus is different, more interesting. The shows are unique and spectacular, certainly not something you should miss-“

They’d tuned him out somewhat at this point. He talked a lot, and they found it slightly annoying considering they had work to finish—as well as the fact that he sounded more like an advertiser for the circus than anything. There was a hint of curiosity in their expression, though, and suddenly their attention snapped back to him when the man snapped his fingers.

It echoed a little too loud across the empty cafe, almost like a stone tossed in still water. [Reader]’s head jolted to the sound.

“Are you even listening?”

“Yes.”

It was a lie. They both knew it, and there was a slight hint of irritation in the man’s gaze now, but he continued anyway.

“Well, it’s a curious show. You should go. I actually have a ticket I won’t be able to use myself, you should have it.”

He was about to pull a ticket from his pocket when they shook their head politely.

“I don’t really have the time right now…I work a lot, as much as I like the macabre style. I actually read a lot of Edgar Allen Poe…it sort of reminds me of that.”

They gave him a small smile, a hint sheepish, considering they tuned him out a few minutes before and now accidentally went off topic—as well as the fact that they had to decline. The man looked at their expression for a moment, amused by a unique answer that had such honesty, as well as a lack of disgust he’d seen from many passersby. Now that he’d taken the time to look them over, he caught sight of the bags under their eyes, and how they carried themselves with some exhaustion.

He chuckled, the hint of pink visible in his pocket being stuffed down as he pulled out something dark blue instead, a ticket.

“I insist. Even if you don’t go, it’d be nice to see you have an opportunity. You seem like the type to truly enjoy it.”

His smile got a hint warmer, and under his insistence [Reader] found it hard to decline. Their curiosity had been itching at their subconscious anyway, and the idea of escaping their small and lonely apartment seemed enticing. They hesitated for a moment, then their hand slowly reached out to take the ticket from him, and he watched as they placed it in their pocket with care.

“Thank you.”

They mumbled the response, a more genuine expression lightening their tired face, with a brighter and genuinely cheery smile. He could see a hint of excitement in their eyes, as well as gratitude. He thought that sort of thing was unique, considering what he’d grown accustomed to seeing over the past few days.

“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy yourself, my dear.”

They nodded, taking his payment and watching him leave. Afterward their boss came over and asked if they could help him out with some of the cleaning, to which they nodded and went to pick up the flyers scattering the tables and counters.

The smell of coffee lingered, which made the job a little more pleasant. As they went to grab the flyers, they couldn’t help but look them over with more interest considering the opportunity they’d been given. It seemed like something straight out of a book, which is what gave them the final push to attend that night.

They finished cleaning for the moment, though. Dusting off tables, sweeping the floors, and putting care into their cleaning job. The place looked close to spotless when they went to leave, and their boss was thankful for that—it made his closing job significantly easier.

They could’ve gone home to change, but stared at the circus outside instead. It was within walking distance, and it was already a little late—they knew if they went home and sat down they wouldn’t want to get back up.

So they went over, a bit quickly, the kitten heels of their shoes clicking softly against the ground as they got to the entrance. When they saw the lights, colors, and heard the music, they couldn’t help but pause for a moment to stare in awe. [Reader] had forgotten this feeling for a while now, this feeling of wonder that they often felt when getting enveloped in a book, which had been replaced by sleeping most of their evenings away after finishing work for the art school they’d been attending for a year now, in the hopes of doing what they really wanted to do—to finally stop wasting away in the small jobs they’d been taking since they graduated high school.

Their stupor was eventually broken by the sound of the arriving crowd, chattering excitedly as they rushed in about the evening’s upcoming performances. They walked up pulling out their ticket to show the man at the front.

“Good evening my dear! Let me see..”

He paused, his gaze lingering on the blue ticket for a little too long to be normal, and [Reader] had started to realize they were the only one with a blue ticket, most being bright pink. They were a little concerned that they’d been scammed into an embarrassing encounter. They moved to pull it back and leave, their expression falling a little.

“Sorry-“

The Ticket Taker pulled it back with a chuckle, shaking his head at the slightly deflated person before him.

“Oh don’t worry, this is simply a unique ticket! It gives you access to a blue tent in the back a little early—it’s not supposed to open until tomorrow night.”

They paused, blinking, and their expression shifted to quite the bright smile.

“Really?”

The ticket taker huffed in amusement, waving them in with what seemed like a smile beneath his mask. The laugh seemed oddly familiar to [Reader], but they couldn’t figure out why.

“Yes! But, you don’t have access to the pink or black one. Do have fun. The blue one is hidden behind the bright green one in that direction.”

He pointed to the bright green, impossible-to-miss tent, which almost made them laugh. Then they gave him a quiet “thanks.”, before walking in with some pep in their step that gave them more life.

They started with the obvious shows, the red tent, the green tent, which both had dazzlingly disturbing performances with screams that felt just a bit too real. They shook off their unease for the moment, instead choosing to enjoy the shows and the occasional flash of a smile they’d receive from a performer for the sake of showmanship.

Eventually, the regular shows were over. They thought about leaving, but then remembered the Ticket Taker’s words from before. They walked behind the green tent where they’d first seen a show that evening, tilting their head curiously when they stumbled upon the blue one.

A sign nearby exposed what the tent was.

“The House of Mirrors.”

They hesitated for a moment, questioning whether they really felt like going dizzy, but felt they should uphold the hospitality of receiving the ticket—that, and they almost didn’t want the night to end. They slipped inside, looking as various mirrors lined the walls, each shining with a different color.

They went through each one, none of them being incredibly distinct—the yellow and green with uninterested, passive even, the purple one had some curiosity to it, and the cyan-red one was simply cold—built for analysis. Each involved an illusion with the in it, and they honestly felt both impressed and deeply unsettled by the illusions crafted so skillfully.

They were going to turn around, but paused to approach the dark blue mirror, and it was then that the Ticket Taker’s head popped from it with a grin.

They jumped, no sound, but their breath caught as they jumped back, stumbling to prevent a fall. Then they exhaled.

“I see you took up my offer. This is my performance, I’d advise not looking at all the mirrors…but it seems you already looked at most of them if you made it this far.”

He chuckled, and watched as [Reader] smiled a little, looking uncertain, but amused.

“The shows were fun. You’re good at illusions…or I think they’re illusions.”

They didn’t sound too sure of themselves, but were momentarily distracted by catching a peek of his black hair. For a moment, something clicked in their head—they realized who this was.

They looked awfully curious, as well as a little annoyed—just a little.

“You’re the guy from the coffee shop earlier. That gave me the ticket.”

He seemed taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter. In a swift movement he was behind them, a hand lightly pressed on their shoulder. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but firm. He hadn’t gotten too close either, there was a respectable distance between them.

“Clever, very clever. I liked your attitude, I figured I’d give you a gift. You seemed quite happy with it.”

They hesitated, words tying up their tongue as they thought of a retort, but could come up with none. They could see him standing behind them in the reflection of the mirror, right around their height. Their eyes flicked away briefly as they folded their arms, taking in the distant scent of cinnamon, likely from food somewhere in the circus.

It was a little dark, but the mirror felt similar to that of a spotlight, making the two of them center stage. They didn’t quite feel afraid.

“I…I haven’t been to a show in a while, or really gone out. You’re right, I did have fun, though some of the performances were a little uncanny-“

They laughed, turning to face him with a smile, their expression a hint hesitant, but eventually she reached up to snatch his hat with a small snort.

“Thanks for the ticket. My name’s [Reader]. What’s yours?”

He sighed, the smallest hint of annoyance hidden in his expression, but it was overshadowed by amusement and slight warmth he felt towards this barista. He knew they were special, and he was certainly glad he took a chance.

“Just call me Ticket Taker, sweetheart.”

He reached over to pinch their cheek and swipe his hat back, a little patronizing, but also somewhat endearing. [Reader] scoffed jokingly, but nodded. They held out a hand after he put his hat back on. He stared for a moment, but took it kindly. He never pulled off the mask, but they remembered his face.

“You can come back tomorrow as well, you know. Remember to keep the ticket on you…it should prevent unwanted attention.”

That last part felt awfully ominous, and yet they still nodded, glancing around. Their eye caught the distant pink mirror, but Ticket Taker shifted himself to block it from their view.

It was a smidge selfish, but he didn’t want them too deeply tangled in this place. He liked them enough to want to keep them out of it, they were quite bright beneath their tiredness, after all.

He leaned forward a little, his face inches from theirs. His breath smelled faintly of mint, his eyes looking right at them. His voice was a soft whisper.

“Do I expect to see you tomorrow, dearest?”

They didn’t expect the closeness, seeming a tad surprised, but eventually gave a smile, and nodded with a little enthusiasm that seemed to light up their face.

He liked that. How bright their face was, it reminded him of a star.

With a soft, satisfied laugh, he retrieved something from his pocket. In his glove hand was a dark blue spade pin, and he shifted to pin it to their collar.

“Good. Then you can be my polite little guest.”

As he pulled back, he mumbled something they could barely hear, their eyes shifting to the pin now glistening on their slightly wrinkled collar that he had attempted to smooth out.

“This way the others will know.”

He stepped back and gave an elegant bow, which caught their attention again as they thought of what he’d just said.

“Well, my dear, thank you for entertaining me. Have a lovely evening.”

And with that he disappeared.

They blinked a few times, thinking they were going insane. But they’d know there was something off about this place, just hadn’t acknowledged it yet. They sighed and walked out of the tent and the overall back of the circus, catching the flash of intrigued purple eyes for a brief moment as the moved to blend with the leaving crowd.

As they walked home, instead of thinking about work or school, they couldn’t help but think of the lights—the smell of fall, the colors, the macabre wonder that seemed to melt their exhaustion and replaced it with wonder that almost gave them stars in their eyes. It felt so nice to be excited, to look forward to the following evening.

And when they looked at his pin, they couldn’t help but be curious about his words.

But instead they’d have to wait and see what tomorrow would bring.

Notes:

HI MORE FREAK CIRCUS CONTENT YAYYY!!!! I actually got some of the idea for this from a comic because I saw a popular idea was that the ticket taker was the customer at the cafe…which I loved.

So here’s that. I’m considering just doing a fic for each of the five and making it a set, we’ll see.

THANK YOU READERS!!! LOVE YOU!!!