The Cirque (4 page)

Read The Cirque Online

Authors: Ryann Kerekes

“You’ll need to be over here, away from the knives.” He gripped me by the waist and walked me backward toward the target. His touch was firm,
knowing,
and my body responded instantly to his confident hands. He stopped only when my back was pressed against the target on the far wall. I had vivid mental images of him pressing his body against mine, but he quickly dropped his hands and stepped away.

If only I could recover
as quickly. My pulse thundered in my ears and my knees felt shaky. I took a few deep breaths, trying to pull myself together while Gabriel selected a few knives.

Once he had the ones he wanted, he positioned himself directly across from me. He raised his arm overhead and hesitated for just a second, looking me up and down. Then he flung the knife straight at me. I felt the force behind his throw as the blade struck, burying itself deep within the cork.

I flinched just a bit. “S
heesh.
If that had hit me, I’d be a goner.” I laughed, trying to lighten the intensity between us.

Gabriel didn’t react. He got his next knife ready.

“So where are you from?” I asked.

He raised the knife overhead and threw it. It slammed into the target near my left thigh, again lodging itself firmly within the cork.

“If I don’t throw them hard, they wouldn’t stick, and they’ll bounce off and nick you.”

Ah.
“Got it. Well, then go for it. You don’t have to be gentle with me.” I smiled.

He raised an eyebrow, and threw another knife.

“So you’re not going to tell me where you’re from?”

He shifted his stance, looking restless. “Out west.”

“Is your family still there?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he threw the next knife with even more force than the last. It rocked the target behind me.

“Can we be done with the question and answer portion of this practice?”

Whatever
. I rolled my eyes. I did my best to act as unaffected by Gabriel. But damn, the boy was hot.
Obnoxiously hot
. I was doomed.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Since it was a full dress rehearsal, Tanner did my makeup and dressed me in my costume, which would coordinate with Gabriel’s. As I suspected, they played up my innocent appearance. Having golden blond hair and big blue eyes always made people think of an angel.

I wore a sparkling white dress that fell well above my knees. The spaghetti straps showed off my pale shoulders and Tanner had done soft makeup and styled my hair in flowing waves. Used to having my hair pulled up in a bun day after day, I hadn’t realized how long it had gotten. It hung halfway down my back. When he stepped back to inspect his work, he smiled. “You look like an ang –”

“An angel, I know.” I rolled my eyes.
Just the look I was going for.

The rehearsal audience was made up of friends, family, Del and Marta, and some media people who would write articles about the show and interview some of the main acts after the performance. It was also a chance for the performers to see all of the acts, and a section of seating was reserved just for us to watch when we weren’t performing.

As I sat there surrounded by the beautiful set, the talented performers and under the watchful eyes of those in charge, I regretted not making Gabriel take this more seriously and show me all that I needed to know. We’d only practiced together once. Was I really supposed to just stand there, in front of all these people, while he chucked knives at me? That was insane.

I got the significance of the costume and started to understand Del’s vision when I saw Gabriel’s outfit. He was dressed in all black and I wasn’t sure if he’d allowed Tanner to powder him but he looked even more pale than usual, making his tattoos seem more menacing. He slid into the seat next to me without a word.

I tucked my legs underneath me on the seat, and settled in to watch the show for the first time. The room was plunged into complete blackness and the sounds of crickets and beating wings began lightly in the background. Then the lights flicked on and shimmered in soft pinks and oranges as a troupe of belly dancers dressed as peacocks graced the stage and the music took on a low, seductive thrumming that matched their exotic hip movements.

The stage was a glossy black, but depending on the act, the lighting techs could turn it any color they wanted. Every act was unique, yet each performance flowed into the next. A cold rush of air blew past my face as the stage filled with a damp-smelling fog. The beat picked up and Sasha was lowered from above. Necks craned in her direction, as the audience anticipated the next act beginning above them. Blue lights streamed down as though the moon broke through nighttime clouds. Mist rolled onto the stage from behind her and drifted along the platform, rolling slowly toward the crowd.

Sasha was utterly mesmerizing and sexy as she twisted slowly around in the fabric until she was about thirty feet above the stage. She wore a nude-colored unitard and writhed around, tangling her body this way and that in the lines of fabric. She reminded me of a butterfly trying to break free of its cocoon.

W
hen she emerged from the folds of fabric, she wore a small smile that I’d never seen on her. It was her performance face. I recognized it well from my years spent in ballet. Mine was more like a mask, but for Sasha, I could tell it was something more – she truly loved what she did.

The deep beats of the music and Sasha’s sultry
moves kept the audience completely transfixed. When she finally swung around and let her feet touch the ground the small crowd went wild with applause. Her smile broke even bigger and she took a little bow then jogged backstage.

Next, a net was stretched across the stage, then lifted and tightened with pulleys. Dmitri and his crew took the stage and once the net was lifted up, helped each other climb on, stepping on each other’s knees until they could reach the edge of the net and pull themselves up. There were six guys and one girl in the troupe. I watched as each one climbed up a narrow rope ladder to platforms suspended from the ceiling.

When Dmitri went on, I sat up straight in my seat and leaned forward to watch. He demonstrated incredible strength and was clearly the best flyer in the group. He puffed his chest out and glided through the air like a true showman. He easily caught the slim flyer as she flipped through the air. I had seen them rehearse together many times during practice, but in full costume, under the big top, I wondered what it would be like for me to have his big hands grasping mine under the spotlights as we hung from the sky.

At the intermission, Gabriel and I headed backstage, since we were on next. We stood behind the curtain while butterflies danced around inside me. Gabriel glanced over at me, looking me up and down for what felt like an eternity. “You look different,” he said, finally.

I swallowed down my nerves, unsure if he meant it as a compliment. “It’s probably the makeup.”

He blinked, still looking at me with that intensity that burned straight through me. “You ready?”

“Not really. You?”

“I guess so,” he said.

I’d been hoping for more confidence from someone who could quite literally kill me with one false move. He picked up his knives. Any time he held them my heart picked up speed in my chest. I felt nauseous and reminded myself to take deep breaths.

“We’re on.” He pulled me by the hand out onto the stage. His hand was cool and completely enclosed mine. As we stepped out on stage, hand in hand, he leaned in closer and whispered to me. “Why do you look so nervous? You just have to stand there and look good. That shouldn’t be too difficult for you.”

“Just try not to miss,” I shot back.

He released my hand, stepping into the spotlight. I hurried behind him and spotted the wooden target for me to stand in front of. It was painted to go along with my angel theme and when I stood in position, had elaborate wings sprouting out behind me.

The fact that we were being scrutinized by Del and the others made me a little self-conscious, but once I saw Gabriel standing in front of me I forgot about all that. It seemed like he was farther away than usual and I worried if his aim would be as good from that distance. I pressed my palms against the board. The absence of sound in the room only intensified the pulse thundering in my head and made me dizzy. I swallowed and tasted salt in my mouth. Damn, I had bitten my tongue.

I was barely in position, but Gabriel didn’t appear worried over whether or not I was ready. He threw the knives so fast his movements were almost a blur. Each time a knife whizzed past my head and caught in the wood, I felt the board shake. The small crowd
ohhhed
and
ahhed
. I did very little and they clapped when it was over. Gabriel came over to retrieve me and we bowed together in the center of the ring.

Relieved to have lived through my first performance, and a little shaky, I sat down backstage, drawing my knees up to my chest. I was too self-conscious about my act and the non-existent skill it took, to join the actual performers out in the audience.

Dmitri walked over and sat next to me. “Hey, you’re shaking.” He placed his hand on my knee and squeezed. It felt nice to have someone notice how crazy this was for me.

“Yeah. Adrenaline.” I waved it off. I didn’t want him thinking I couldn’t handle the pressures of the show.

Dmitri frowned. “He gets a crazy look in his eyes when he’s throwing those knives at you. I don’t like it.”

I turned and looked at him, he wore a skintight full-piece unitard that accentuated every curve and muscle in his body. I looked away. “Well, thanks for your concern, but I don’t see how there’s much I can do about it. That’s where Del’s put me – for now.”

“You should come hang out with me after the show.”

“I should? What are you doing after?” I looked at him curiously to see if he was messing with me.

“Just come to trailer seven. We’ll hang out with my friends. Get you away from that creep.”

“Okay,” I said.

I sat behind the curtain and watched the rest of the show. When it was over, I spotted Del and went up to ask him about my act. “Del, I––”


There she is!
You were great tonight. I knew I had the right feeling about you.”

“Thanks, but um…I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I want to be able to do something other than stand there getting knives thrown at me.” Though I had no idea what I would do if he said I could.

“It makes his act more exciting. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, hoping he didn’t hit the beautiful little angel. Tanner did a great job with you.” He gestured to my dress but then seemed to sense my disappointment. “Besides, we’ve only just begun. We’ll talk about that later. Just stick with Gabriel for now.”

I nodded and headed back to my trailer to change.

Sasha wasn’t there, but I wondered if I’d see her later at trailer seven. She didn’t seem to be a big fan of Dmitri though, so I kind of doubted it. I took off the tiny white dress, and wondered if I should return it to the costume trailer or keep it for the next show. Since I was already here, I just hung it up so it didn’t get wrinkled. I changed into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t scrub the thick makeup off my face or even put my hair up, so that had to count for something.

I was looking forward to hanging out with Dmitri again. Since that first day of practice, he’d continued to be friendly and flirty, but I hadn’t talked to him much. The only time I saw him for any length of time was when he was high up on the trapeze.

Dmitri was usually hanging with a group of people around him, laughing and training. He seemed to have a fan club of girls – always one or two hanging on his arms, or sitting on his lap. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to them, he’d just laugh and kiss their cheeks, then send them away. It seemed there was a hierarchy of performers here, and the aerialists were at the top. Target girls were probably at the bottom. I tried not to let all that intimidate me as I walked to trailer seven.

I wasn’t sure if I should knock or just go in, but when I got closer, I heard loud music coming from inside and doubted anyone would hear me knock. I walked up the steps and hesitated before unlatching the door. The way I set my foot on the top stair immediately brought me back to dance class, when I’d learned how to hold my feet so they looked like I was gifted with grace. You had to keep working on that and I suddenly realized part of that grace was slipping away from me. I took a deep breath, and pushed away the pang of sadness at that thought, then opened the door.

There were far too many people inside the small trailer. The coffee table was littered with liquor bottles and people danced to an unedited rap song. I stood there, looking out of place, until an older girl I didn’t know, shouted something to Dmitri in what I assumed was Russian. He came up beside me, holding a bottle of vodka. He’d changed into jeans and a fitted shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. I could barely hear anything with the music blaring from the speakers. When the lyrics said something about ‘a rump like a Tonka truck,’ I looked down and fumbled with the hem of my shirt.

He smiled at my response. “We need to loosen you up.” He pulled me over to the counter in the tiny kitchenette. He set up two shot glasses, and filled them to the brim. I took the glass from him and eyed it. I wondered if it
was clean.

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