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The Moonbase was as it always was, and as it always should be.
The jorbos still scuttled the halls and made their homes within the carbonfibre walls. The ever present hum that seemed to permeate the entire base, the dull sound of magic and electricity working hand in hand to keep the base up and running, still filled the air.
Moon was still trapped, his only outlet being the little screen in which he could embody a more chaotic energy and feed the endless void that was Entropy’s expectations. Once again, he had no visitors. Uranus could no longer be tricked into making exceptions. Perhaps that was for the best.
It had been so long that the jorbos had stopped mimicking the sounds of little golden bells jingling and ringing joyfully in the air.
Occasionally, Moon would do a quick search of the circus online. Over the years, it had changed names several times. Rebrand after rebrand after rebrand. New performers, new animal routines, new gimmicks.
None of them ever had the flair that Jimmy had given them.
Every time something changed, Moon felt a small feeling of anger in his heart. The anger nestled close to the grief, and the grief held on to the longing. They were a trio of desperation and regret. Every time a new owner promised to deliver something spectacular, Moon could only scoff.
“They could never do what Jimmy did.”
And he was right. Each time, they failed. Each time, the ticket sales were abysmal. Each time, as Moon scoured social media and articles from the local area the circus was located, he saw more written words of a severe lack of success.
Of course no one could live up to what Jimmy could pull off. He was the heart and soul of the circus. He was the reason people would line up for miles. He had a passion for performance that Moon admired greatly.
None could compare in Moon’s eyes.
The day the circus finally disbanded, Moon cried. He locked himself in his sleeping quarters after hastily pushing any lingering jorbo out, and he wept. He curled into a ball on his bed, fingers digging into his arms, shoulders shaking with every sob that tore from his throat.
Because now, the circus was just as dead as Jimmy. The last lingering pieces of Jimmy’s influence were finally gone.
All Moon could think about was his regret. He regretted the risks he took to see Jimmy. He regretted the protocols bypassed and security systems breached just so that they would see each other. He regretted letting himself get that close.
Most of all, he regretted running away.
Moon almost hated himself for what he had done, and with hardly any explanation to the man he claimed to love so dearly. As years went on with their secret tirade of joy and romance, Moon began to see the signs.
Humans always age so quickly. Such vibrant lives, like fireworks, bursting with light and passion and colour, only to fizzle away into nothing but smoke and echoes moments later.
And so, Moon did the cowardly thing. He hid himself away, he fixed every broken system that allowed them to visit one another, and just like that, Jimmy was no longer a part of his life.
But he could not save himself from the grief. His heart was too full, bursting at the seams with memories and affection, to be safe from the pain.
There were news articles of Jimmy’s passing. Moon wished he had never come across them. He wished those articles had never spurred on his obsession with checking on the circus. Moon couldn’t even bear to read what the cause of death was. Now, he was far too afraid to find out.
He always wondered if Jimmy had died alone. He was the person Moon thought was least deserving of such a fate.
Moon wasn’t sure if he should be grateful at the distance between the actual moon and the earth. All he knew was that thousands upon thousands of miles were not far enough to stop the knife of emotional agony from wedging its way into his chest.
Moon didn’t livestream for weeks after that. He only went back to it when dear Entropy started rapping against the window, mockingly concerned for his state of wellbeing.
And when the camera was back on and the live chat started filling with messages, Moon simply pretended that he had been busy, and that nothing had happened at all.