FIC: Behold! Us Wayward Monsters - Act II (Part One)
Title: Behold! Us Wayward Monsters - Act II (Part One)
Masterlist: I ( One, Two) | II ( One, Two) | III ( One, Two) | IV ( One, Two)
ACT II
Eventually, two months after they arrived at the Cirque, the troupe got the green light on their evolving projects. This with some enthusiasm from Louis, translated into a head nod from Guy Laliberté.
This also resulted in Karl throwing knives at Zach’s head, but Zach wasn’t about to complain.
“Eeek!” Zach shrieked and made a face, pretending to be terrified of the next incoming blade. Instead Zach caught it between his palms, inches from his chest, comically crossing his eyes at the red hilt.
The audience would never know it was dull as a fork, but it made Chris gasp from the bleachers, anyway.
Karl followed up with shrugging his shoulders at Bruce-apparently they had thrown their last knife, and what a shame. Until Zach, thinking he was clever, started throwing their own knives back at them.
Natalia raised an eyebrow as the throwing turned into juggling, with Joey handing Zach whatever items he found lying around-knives, shoes, apples, a random stuffed chicken-until the plethora of strange items was being juggled between them, with Karl and Bruce being exaggeratedly disturbed by it all. Eventually it ended with the chicken bonking Bruce in the head, the apple being eaten by a very hungry John, and the knives stabbing Joey’s empty shoes into the ground.
Which made Karl and Bruce angry, apparently. Zach and barefoot Joey ran away to the amusement of the bleachers.
Some people were easy to please, but Zach grinned up at an applauding Chris. “I think Joey was going to go up there and steal your guys’ shoes next.”
“Wouldn’t dare,” Natalia said, regretfully, as Zach was trying to ignore her existence.
But Joey leapt into the seats and sat down next to her, poking the petite woman in the arm. “Your heels might have been a challenge.”
Why was a contortionist wearing heels, anyway? “I wouldn’t have minded throwing those.”
The French Bitch gave Zach a dirty look. “I bet.”
“Hey, why don’t we all break for lunch?” Joey said, checking the imaginary watch on his arm. “We’ll reconvene at two.”
More than hour, but whatever.
“Sounds great,” Karl said as he patted Bruce on the shoulder. “We’ve been working hard all week, anyway.”
Bruce nodded in agreement. “Don’t think we worked this hard on our last show.”
“You weren’t in the last show,” Karl pointed out, tapping the tip of Bruce’s nose. “You were helping with the recruitment of these folks.”
Bruce held out his hands in defeat, but Zach was too busy watching Joey as he snuck the French Bitch from the room. Not even a goodbye? See ya later?
“You want to take lunch outside?”
Zach jerked his head back reluctantly. Chris was walking down the stairs of the metal bleacher seats, still in his training gear. That morning he had aggravated his ‘bum ankle’, and after some icing and watching a quick show, Chris would supposedly be ready to go again.
But lunch sounded fine. “I thought you’d want to jump back into things.”
Chris gave Zach a knowing look. “I think you might want the company.”
Whatever that meant. But Zach wasn’t about to complain. They had been taking lunch together over the last few weeks, anyhow. Today would be no different.
It was a strange friendship to slip into. Zach had never intended such a thing-Chris had a hot bod and an intriguing aura of mystery-but he was meant to be pestered and nothing more. Instead he told Zach to wait outside at some picnic tables, and Zach knew Chris would bring him something reminiscent of what he’d been eating. Chris was stupidly observant, after all.
“I’ve been waiting for a nice day,” Chris said as he passed Zach a bowl of mac and cheese-hell yes. “I’ve never been to Canada, have no clue of Montréal. Kind of a shame that we’re stuck inside all the time.”
They really weren’t stuck, per se. It was more that if Zach wanted to save his ass in the Cirque, he’d better be working and not playing.
“Maybe they’ll let us out one of these weekends,” Chris said between bites of his club sandwich.
“Why not this weekend?” It wasn’t a law. And anyway, if it was, Zach would claim that he couldn’t read fine print. Grandpa glasses, or some shit.
And maybe he did really need those glasses, for he could’ve sworn that Chris smiled very briefly, like a secret.
“The weather is supposed to be nice tomorrow. We could grab lunch in town, for a change.”
It was said so nonchalantly that Zach was almost fooled. “You want to go out to lunch with me?”
Chris took a larger bite of his sandwich, then took his time to chew. “Yeah. I mean, John is hanging out with Bruce and Eric, and Anton is going out with Zoe and Karl.”
Oh, so this was a planned mass exodus. “All right, I’m game. I’ll ask Joey if he wants to join us.”
Chris picked up a sliver of tomato with his fingers. It was sort of sloppy, something Chris wouldn’t have done in his company two months ago. But now Chris was open like a book, and he could read the hesitant look behind the action.
“You don’t want Joey along? What’s wrong with Joey?”
Chris shrugged, still biding his time. “Um, well. I thought you had noticed his new… lady friend.”
Well, fuck, if that didn’t bring everything into sharper focus. If Joey had a playdate, that meant the only two without plans tomorrow would be him and Chris-and well, maybe Chris had plans with Bruce first, or John first, and then they fell through. Zach was the last available option, next to some nameless schmuck.
It stung a bit, Zach would have to admit. “You don’t have to go with me. I mean, I’m sure Zoe wouldn’t mind you tagging along-“
Chris’ unexpected burst of laughter would be almost cute if it weren’t mocking. Tomato juice ran down his chin as Chris tried not to choke. “You’re kidding, right?”
Zach shook his head, his eyes squinted in confusion. Chris was bad at jokes, certainly, but at least Zach could usually determine an attempt at humor.
Chris shook his head as he rolled up the foil of his sandwich. “Zach, Zach, Zach. Zachary Quinto.”
“Only my mother, and people I’ve had sex with, say my name that many times in a row.”
Chris glanced up at him, sending him a look. “Just have lunch with me, okay? I haven’t tried anywhere in this town, and we’re only here for a short while.”
Zach rested his head on his hand, elbow on the picnic table as he glanced away from Chris. What the fuck was Joey doing tomorrow? They really hadn’t hung out since they reached the Cirque, and there was likely a row of shots in their name at some local bar.
“Hello, Earth to Zach.”
Zach shifted his head slightly, watching as Chris took his abandoned mac and cheese to the garbage can. Maybe Chris was like his mother. Which would be odd, but Zach hadn’t had a mother in a long while.
“What, Mom?”
Chris wrinkled his nose in disdain. “God, don’t ever say that again.”
Zach shrugged, still watching as Chris only stood before the table, obviously his signal that they should head back inside. But honestly, Zach just wanted to watch the cars in the parking lot for a while. Or maybe spend the extra hour of lunch stalking wherever Joey took the French Bitch.
She didn’t even have boobs. Men normally only dated women like that for boobs, right? She was petite and built like a pole; which aided the contortionist thing fine, but she probably looked like a prepubescent boy underneath it all.
Joey had only ever dated blondes with bubbly laughs and a nice rack. What was he doing?
“Are you going to sit there and mope all day?”
“Not all day.”
“Just for two hours or so.”
Zach looked back at Chris in annoyance. Especially since Chris was sitting back down at the table, hands in the pocket of his blue hoodie.
“Natalia is rather nice, you know.”
“I wouldn’t know.” And he didn’t want to be converted. “She gives me the evil eye.”
“It doesn’t help that you give her a death glare.”
Zach scowled and got up from the table. “Why don’t you hang out with them tomorrow, since you like her so much.”
“Are you 12?” Chris stood up and followed Zach inside. “Seriously, I asked you because I want to hang out with you. I like Natalia, but I have a feeling she would appreciate the alone time.”
“God, for what?” Zach shivered as the answer immediately appeared in his brain-naked limbs entangled on a bed sheet. “Eww.”
But all Zach heard was a sigh behind him. It made Zach turn his head and catch Chris staring at his feet as they shuffled the hallway, blindly following Zach back to the gymnasiums.
It was too much trust, really. Zach stopped short and Chris staggered to avoid a collision.
“I just don’t get it, that’s all.” Why should Zach explain himself? But he was doing it, anyway. “I mean, he’s dated lots of women before. She’s just not his type, and frankly he’s never been that moony before, and-“
Chris was giving him another skeptical look.
“What? What am I saying wrong, here?”
But Chris only gave him a soft smile of forgiveness. For what, Zach didn’t know.
“Meet me at 10, in the front?” Chris asked as he ducked his head in caution. “We can explore on our own, or we can play it by ear-whatever you want.”
Oh, that stuff. Zach brushed a hand in the air. “Yeah, sure. Grab a coffee first, whatever.”
And there was still a smile of forgiveness. Chris even closed his eyes as he shook his head, patting Zach on the shoulder as walked back to the gym.
“See you tomorrow.” And without further discussion, Chris threw the hoodie up over his head, leaving Zach alone to his own devices.
)O(
Which, frankly, could’ve turned out worse. Joey was sooner than expected, overly-cheerful but ready to work. It had happened just at the point of Zach considering a fake text message of emergency, wondering if his brother would rush to respond over Zach spraining an ankle.
That wasn’t weird, was it? Zach gave half his mind to the act as he studied Joey’s face. He was older than Zach by a few years-late 30s now, with their old lives starting to catch up with him-but he was handsome. Mohawk and punk appearances aside, he didn’t have too many wrinkles; his face not showing much strain despite their hard lives. Joey was lithe and trim and fairly healthy, although he woke up sometimes with a few aches and pains.
Did Natalia know about the aches and pains? Or that Joey took tea in the evenings with honey and soymilk, a book stretched out before him, currently reading something about Native American poetry. That he liked his pillows medium-firm, his underwear in colors other than white, his socks crew-cut. Joey would freak out if he couldn’t roll them into matching pairs.
“You okay, man?” Joey said between takes, a hand on the back of Zach’s neck to pull him into confidence. “You’re distracted.”
“No, no I’m not.” And while Zach meant it to answer the second question, maybe it was really for the first. After 17 years of taking care of Joey, maybe he wasn’t okay at all.
But Joey nodded. “We’re all tired. Thank God for the weekend, right?”
The weekend. With the French Bitch. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Let’s catch dinner.” He patted Zach on the back, then held open the hallway door. “Get some food in you.”
Zach was going to eat an entire pie. An entire chocolate-and-emo filled pie of green, green bitterness.
)O(
It lingered. Chris was already out front talking to Zoe and Karl in the morning, catching them before they went their own way. As Karl leaned on a railing, Zoe entangled their hands together, her fingertips caressing his palm.
Zach rolled his eyes-was everyone fucking in this shindig? Except him, of course. And maybe Eric-who didn’t seem to be hanging around anyone, actually. Which offered some tantalizing possibilities.
“See you guys later,” Chris said with a wave. Karl waved back, with sunglasses in one hand and Zoe’s fingers in the other.
It was stupidly cute, and Zach wanted to puke.
“You need coffee,” Chris said as he stood up from the rail. “Me too.”
“The sun can go fuck itself.” Zach put on his sunglasses-why was there sun in Canada? It was up north, the shiny bald spot of the Americas. “But yes, coffee.”
“Karl and Zoe are going to some museums.”
“Sure.” Zach didn’t know a thing about Montréal. “Honestly, I’m up for anything. I have no idea what’s even here.”
Chris shrugged. “We can walk around, see what we come across?”
Zach grimaced in acceptance. Not in a bad way, but in a way that they were doing too much talking in the morning. As they got their coffees from the cafeteria before leaving-Chris took his black, what a champ-they were silent and speaking only when necessary. Zach didn’t have the brain function to worry about how to salvage things.
“So… tell me something I don’t know.”
They hadn’t walked far. There was a park that was kitty corner to the IKEA house, and they both instinctively sat on the swings. Chris actually swung his as Zach kept his legs straight, bracing against the ground to stay still.
Zach licked his lips. “Do you know all the presidents?”
Chris huffed a laugh. “What, do you?”
Zach looked up at the sky, trying to remember the rote memorization from fifth grade. “Washington and Adams, Jefferson and Madison. Monroe, Adams, Jackson-“
“Oh my God.”
“I can even do them backwards-shit, maybe not anymore. There’s been a few new ones since then.”
“Professor Quinto is teaching me things.”
“Um, Bush and Clinton-no wait, Obama and Bush and Clinton, Bush, Reagan, Carter-“
“How the hell did you forget Obama?”
“It’s a fucking rhythm, okay.” Zach took a sip of his coffee. “Anyway, we’re discussing American history in a foreign country.”
“So tell me something that’s not American history.” Chris leaned his cheek against the chain-link of his swing. “I know a lot of American history, anyway.”
“As you should, Mister Team USA.”
The moment it left his mouth Zach grimaced, but Chris waved it off.
“My dad’s a history teacher at my old high school.”
“Did he make you do nerdy things?” Zach liked the insinuation of that question. “Do I have to pull out the Paul Revere doll, so you can tell me where he made you learn?”
Chris only rolled his eyes, thankfully. “I just know stupid and random shit about the Civil War, that’s all.”
“Name one.” Zach took an absent sip of his coffee, observing this comfortable and silly version of Chris. They had been friends for a about a month, known each other twice as long, but Chris had never been this willingly chatty.
This probably meant Operation: Bother Nerdy Boy had been a success, but Chris was still fun to hang out with.
“Um… Lincoln’s favorite tune was Dixie?”
“How do you know that?”
“How does anyone know anything?”
“Cop out.”
Chris stood up as he finished his coffee, walking it over to a trash can. “Okay, I know it because I went back in a time machine, and heard Lincoln whistling it under his breath. Especially while he was coping with smallpox during the Gettysburg address.”
“Is that painful?” Zach had just reached the trash can, draining his cup. “Like chicken pox?”
“Probably. Except with, you know, death.”
Zach grimaced again-he was doing a lot of that, this morning. As he caught up to Chris and they began to walk in-step, Zach wanted to turn to less-weird subjects.
“So why are you at the Cirque?” That seemed innocent enough.
Chris laughed at the question. “Dude, that is a long, long story.”
Zach gestured to the open fields and parking garages surrounding them. Civilization appeared up ahead, but it would be a while before they got somewhere interesting.
Chris took the hint and sighed. “My mom thought it would be good for me. I was going to retire. I’m over 30, don’t have a hope nor a prayer for the Olympics, am tired of the Championship circuit-“ Chris ducked his head sheepishly, it was starting to become a trend. “I was thinking of being a coach.”
“But Mother knows best,” Zach said in sing-song, and Chris smiled at him.
“I guess. She’s been paying for it for most of my life, so.”
Chris gestured with his hands, which Zach took as a good sign. Unlike all the building signs that seemed to be in French-Zach didn’t know a lick of it.
“What is it about gymnastics? You know, why are you dedicating your life to it.”
Chris looked at him curiously, but Zach was being earnest. Zach was always earnest with people who had passion, no matter what kind. There were few people in the world with narrow enough vision and dedication to pursue something for so long, much less life-long. Zach had his own answers, but Chris didn’t have the same life he did.
Chris looked up at the sky in thought. “It’s… very precise. Athletic. You’re taking your body and stretching its limits, and commanding it to do what you want-well, most of the time.”
“Control and domination.”
“I look at people who are famous in the sport and they’re like gods. You try to do what they do, try to go where they went-and when you try, no matter what, and you constantly fail, it’s…” Chris waved his hands wordlessly. “Inspiring. And sometimes, when you achieve what they do, it’s like… you’ve reached the pinnacle of your human body.”
It was almost disappointing. Zach had expected some lines about the human experience, sure. But this answer seemed egotistical.
“Are you trying to be Hercules?” Zach asked with a raised brow.
Chris laughed, ducking his head again. Was the boy never embarrassed or properly humble? It didn’t fit into normal, logical pieces.
“Supposedly if you work hard enough, you can be.”
Zach pursed his lips-what an insinuation. He doubted that Chris hadn’t worked hard enough.
“No room for talent or limitations of the body, then?"
Chris tilted his head, touché. “Sure. But then you never get to be Hercules.”
“You know he like, killed his wife and stuff?” Zach shook his head. “Had an asshole of a father, too. Dude with a massive god complex.”
“But he finished-and succeeded-the twelve trials of Hercules. Complete with killing hydras and capturing a three-headed dog.” Chris ticked a finger at him. “That’s pretty impressive, be honest.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Chris grinned in disbelief. “’Yeah, sure’? Really? Come on.”
Zach shrugged. “I mean that’s impressive. But can you imagine that dude at a bar? Conversation would consist of, ‘Hi, I’m a circus clown.’ ‘Oh really? I made a hydra choke on its own dick.’ ‘Oh, that’s cool, man.’”
Chris covered his face with his hands, and Zach barreled on.
“What do you think his opinion on politics is? Or fluffy bunnies? Photography? Clowns?”
“Are you saying he wouldn’t have an opinion?”
“No, not at all. I’m just saying that I care more about fluffy bunnies than about a three-headed dog.”
Chris made a confused face. “The world revolves around more than your interests, though.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“He might care about the three-headed dog.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t give a shit.”
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets, as if to stuff his annoyance. “Pray tell, what is your opinion on fluffy bunnies?”
“Too much work. Had one as a kid, and it developed dreadlocks and looked like a reggae singer.” Zach stopped in front of a building and read the sign. “Oh look, it’s a shitty train museum. Sounds interesting. Care to go in?”
Zach opened the glass door and gestured pointedly, and Chris gave him a droll look.
“Sure. Why not.” As he passed Zach, he muttered, “Too bad there aren’t any reggae bunnies in here.”
Zach aimed for a boot in the ass, but Chris was too quick and already joined the line for admission.
)O(
It turned out they weren’t the only ones at the train museum. As Zach followed Chris beyond admissions, they spotted Anton watching a motorized display come to life.
“Everyone’s here,” Anton confirmed. His eyes darted from the toy-caboose to Zach, and then back again. “Joe and Natalia are around the corner.”
Oh, joy.
“How about Karl and Zoe-hey, Zach?”
But Zach went to the first corner Anton had pointed to, although there were several in that direction. He kept close to the walls, hoping to get a sneak peek of Joey in action. Maybe Zach would come across something good.
“What are you, James Bond?” Chris asked too loudly.
Zach put a finger to his lips as he peeked around a lit train display. But instead of seeing the occupants, he actually heard them first.
“I’m not trying to tie you down anywhere. Just, you know, if you don’t want kids and I don’t want kids-“
“I know the logical reasons, trust me.”
“Then what the hell is it?” Karl said a bit too loudly, and Zach winced. “The Cirque has amazing career opportunities after you’ve retired-“
“You’re just not listening to me.”
“What, what the hell-that’s what I’m doing now! How can you say-“
Zach turned abruptly in the opposite direction and grabbed Chris’ sleeve. “Yeah, no.”
“Maybe we should see if she’s okay-“
“Zoe’s wearing heels in a public place.” Zach hid behind a large column, finally spying a familiar mohawk. “I’d worry more about Karl.”
Chris frowned as he stood next to Zach. “I thought Zoe wanted to stay with Karl at the Cirque.”
“Huh?” Zach watched as Joey did a fake-yawn and then chickened-out of touching Natalia’s back. “Why the hell would she do that?”
“Because they’ve been together five years and were thinking of getting an apartment-“ Chris looked over Zach’s shoulder, then huffed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Chris marched out from behind the column, and Zach was too late to catch and drag him back.
“Hey, Joe,” Chris said loudly, then gave Zach a dirty look.
When Joey’s eyes flickered between the two of them, Zach hoped he had straightened in time to appear nonchalant. Probably not, but then sometimes Joey was a bit dense.
“Joey,” Zach said with too much feigned fondness. He threw his arm around Joey’s shoulder, then glanced at the display that had captured the entirety of his brother’s attention. “I didn’t know you liked trains.” Zach read the inscription. “Especially ones that killed like, 20 people.”
“Um,” Joey said as his eyes quickly scanned the inscription. “I like wheels?”
Zach nodded slowly. “Yeah, they’re quite useful. Dawning of civilization, and all that.”
“Well, trains were responsible for building trade and commerce across the Americas,” Chris said defensively, for whatever reason, as he went to stand next to the French Bitch. Traitor.
Zach gave his cheesiest smile. “Oh, I’m sure, Mr. Knowledge.”
“That was on the sign when we came in,” said French Bitch in a chopped, thick accent. She could kill kittens with her voice, Zach was sure.
“Yes-big plaque, right out front. Couldn’t miss it unless you were hiding from it,” Chris said while smiling at Natalia, and she actually pleasantly smiled back at him. Imagine that.
Zach was about to say what the fuck? when Joey chimed in.
“Zach doesn’t really like to read things. More like a glance and he’s through-more of a ‘take it or leave it’ sort of person.”
Zach flexed his hands near his brother’s neck. He was getting the impression he was getting ganged up.
“Yeah, so I’m going to take my leave over here-“ And as Zach stepped over to another boring display about stupid trains, an arm snaked through his elbow and refused to let go.
It was even worse than Zach imagined: Her claws gripped him like a falcon, or like some killer owl about to rip the flesh off of a mouse.
“Hello, Zach.”
When Zach peered down at Natalia-and it was a long look, since he struggled unsuccessfully to get his damn arm back-she was actually smiling at him. All less-than-five-feet of her practically beamed with triumph, and it gave Zach the impression she was trying to disarm him with blinding kindness.
“It is about time we had a chat.”
Zach tried his cheesiest smile back. “Oh, I agree. I was just thinking I should have invited you to tea. My manners.”
“Joe has told me so much about you.”
Zach gave a wincing smile as she moved him to another exhibit-apparently French Bitch was intent on controlling the show, and as far away from Joey as possible.
“I hope just the good things.”
“You know, it is so peculiar-“ and her ‘u’s’ sounded like she was puking, and Zach tried not to laugh “-Joe says you are so sociable, and yet I never see you around.”
Zach gave an exaggerated shrug. “Well, I’m just so busy talking to the people I like, that I barely have time left for the people I don’t.” He patted her arm with his free hand. “You know how it is.”
“It is difficult to find that time-but then, we all must make do.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Especially if it is for my boyfriend’s sake.”
“Well, don’t strain yourself, honey-it’s not like you’re in promise ring territory, yet.”
She gave him a wicked smile. “Yet.”
It was a good thing she let go of his arm, because he was about to do a number of things he’d surely get arrested for. But Joey and Chris had found them again, and Zach was rubbing his arm.
“It was nice seeing you guys!” Chris said quickly, taking Zach’s shoulders and turning him around. “Catch you later.”
“Who says I want to go yet-“
Chris pushed his back until they were outside on the sidewalk, with Zach’s long legs barely beneath him. He finally caught a glimpse of Chris’ face, and then he shouted, “What? What did I do now?”
“Thankfully nothing.” Chris looked around at the busy street. “Keep your voice down.”
“God,” Zach said in exasperation, then looked down at his arm. “Do you see these half-moon marks? She fucking mauled me.”
“I know, Natalia is terrifying-all 4’11 and 90 pounds of her.”
“What have I told you about women in heels?” Chris apparently had no idea, but then Chris had never been smacked by one-not that Zach was going to divulge that life lesson any time soon.
“You’re impossible.” Chris huffed as he said it, and yet there was an undercurrent of fondness. “She was just trying to make friends with you.”
Zach outright laughed at that one-was still laughing as Chris made them stop at a quaint restaurant.
“I think you need an omelet.”
“Are you paying for my omelet?” Although Zach hadn’t had eggs in a while, so maybe it was a good plan after all.
“If you’re nice.” Chris held open the door and gestured with a hand, and Zach made a face at him.
“This is the lousiest date I’ve ever been on,” Zach grumbled as he passed through. “I’m glad I brought my wallet.”
Chris quirked a smile, and Zach wondered when he had become unintentionally amusing.
)O(
An omelet and toast and pancakes later, Zach was regretting all of it. Chris probably ate 300,000 calories a day, judging by his muscles, but Zach was going to balloon into the Goodyear blimp at this rate.
“God, I’ll need to walk to the States to get this off.” Zach patted his stomach, then reached into his pocket for his smokes. He showed them to Chris. “You mind?”
Chris motioned to the wall. “They might.”
Zach still didn’t read a lick of French, but the big red circle around the cigarette was clear. “Fuck my life.”
“It’s bad for you, anyway.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Chris rolled his eyes as Zach tucked the smokes back into his pocket. He debated between moving to smoke outside and sitting right where he was, but Chris made up his mind for him.
“Since you asked me-why are you at the Cirque?”
Zach settled into his seat and looked around at the empty restaurant. The breakfast shift had apparently cleared out, but the early-lunch crowd had not staggered in yet. Lousy tipping.
“Joey loves the Cirque, you know. He’s been wanting to go to a show for ages, but we mostly watch it on TV.” Zach shrugged as he leaned forward, taking his glass of water between both hands. “I heard about auditions from some guy at Ren Fest, so I decided to enter us.”
“You mean the Renaissance Faire?”
Zach made a face at that. “An unfortunately large portion of my illustrious resume.” Juggling, acting, harassing-sometimes combined as the best pickle seller in the whole Southwest.
Chris smiled at that. “Did you actually wear that fancy stuff? A codpiece?”
“Anyway-” Zach had actually worn pauper clothes, but whatever. “Joey and I applied, drove to Las Vegas, and here we are.”
“Joey really wanted to do it, then?”
“You have no idea how excited he was.” Zach smiled, in spite of himself, at the memory. “We had kind of hit a rut. Joey was feeling restless, I was feeling restless. Seemed like something different to do. Reliable and permanent, too.”
Chris was watching him carefully, and Zach had no idea why.
“So you didn’t care about Cirque du Soleil?”
Zach shrugged. That seemed rather irrelevant. “It’s a job. And anyway, Joey really wanted to go. I didn’t mind Canada the last time we were here, so… why not?”
Chris took a sip of his water, as if trying to think of something to say. Zach spared him
.
“Not that I never liked the shows. I just didn’t think they explained the meaning of life, or anything.”
“At least they allow you to be a clown, unlike other things?”
Zach nodded. That was obvious.
“So, um-why a clown, exactly?” Chris looked nervous as he said it, playing with the handle of his coffee mug. It was sort of cute, really.
“Why not?”
“Why not just be an actor?”
“Why don’t you just become a basketball player?”
Chris looked confused, and Zach wasn’t sure how else to explain it.
“I am an actor. I just have a focus.”
Chris tucked his arms into his chest and leaned on the table. “I don’t know shit about acting. Is there a special school?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t go to one.” Zach didn’t like this confessional part of the conversation, but it’s not like he kept many secrets, anyway. “I kind of bloomed late in high school. When everyone else was taking their SATs, I was juggling knives at talent shows.”
“How the hell did you start juggling knives?” Chris narrowed his eyes. “Where was your mother?”
Zach chuckled. “Watching me juggle knives at talent shows?”
“Oh God.”
“I learned from the best, don’t worry-she didn’t.” Zach smiled. “I was really into the drama club, right? No surprise. But that shit doesn’t last in the summer, so I had to find other ways to be on stage.”
“Community theater?”
Zach scoffed. “What? And play Tommy Djilas in The Music Man? Hell no.”
“Which led to the downward spiral of juggling knives.”
“Actually, being at the Pittsburgh Ren Fest was the downward spiral, but sure.”
Chris laughed. “You owe them a lot.”
“I just… I felt different than everyone else. I didn’t want to do actual theater, you know? Real theater has too many rules. Now, improv…” Zach trailed off, trying to think of how to explain it. “The only rule is to be honest and trust your partner. Ren Fest taught me a lot of that.”
“Makes sense why you travel with Joe, then.”
“Well-I could be honest with anybody.”
“Obviously.”
Zach waved a hand in the air, as if batting away the irritation. This was going to branch out into areas he didn’t want to talk about.
“So did Joe work with you at Ren Fest?”
Zach grimaced. Maybe he wasn’t as honest as he thought. Perhaps it was all about making other people think you were honest that sold a show.
“Sorry, did I ask something wrong-?”
Zach wiped his mouth and sat up straight, throwing his napkin on a plate. “No. I just need a smoke-it’s getting to me.”
Chris took the hint and pulled out his wallet, and Zach put out a hand.
“Dude, I was joking earlier-“
But Chris had already pulled out a few bills and was standing up. “I wasn’t.”
“Thanks,” Zach said hesitantly, feeling uncomfortably like he’d been rescued, or helped, or hugged unannounced. Annoying, really.
Chris gave a shy smile, then started walking out of the restaurant. As they passed their waiter, Chris gave him the money and the bill. “Merci.”
Since the waiter looked pleased-“Merci beaucoup”-Zach took that to mean they could finally escape, and did so promptly at a side door.
He needed air. He needed to walk away from the district, too.
Zach felt a bit overdramatic about it all. The more he remained silent, the more Chris probably thought that Zach was hiding something. And he was-but Chris didn’t have to know that.
If the Cirque was at twelve o’clock on the metaphorical city map, they were now walking towards three at an idle pace.
Once they were away from businesses, Zach took out his pack and eagerly lit up. He caught the expression on Chris’ face, a hint of worry on his features.
“It’s nothing bad.” Zach took a long drag, then angled the plumes away from Chris’ face. “Don’t worry about it.”
“So you and Joe haven’t always traveled together?”
“No, no, we always have.”
Chris looked confused.
“Joey is older than me. So it’s just-by the time I got out of high school, he had a few years of being solo.”
“Wait, he’s older?”
Zach shrugged. “I’m 35, he’s 38.” He looked over Chris’ features, seizing the moment. “How old are you?’
“Thirty-one.”
Zach nodded, flicking the ashes. He should probably be more polite, but they were walking on a side street with some mechanic garages, grass nowhere in sight.
They were silent for a while, and the cigarette had calmed Zach down, somewhat. They reached a row a residential housing-lines of townhomes all stuck together, looking virtually the same except for color.
“How did you guys start touring together?”
“Well, I wanted to leave home.”
“Joe didn’t?”
Zach shrugged. “Well…” He wanted to light up another cigarette, but he would think of something. “Joey needed a change of pace. So when I got an offer to leave on a traveling show, it seemed natural to ask him along.”
It had been a bit more complicated than that. At that point in Joey’s life, the world had worn him down to the nub-Pittsburgh had worn them both down. Too many people knew them, and Zach had wanted to escape into anonymity, despite leaving Ma behind. It had been a fresh start, embarking them both on their current life.
“How long have you guys been traveling together, then?”
Zach squinted at the sky. “Um… 18 years?” He shook his head. “No, 17. Joey was a senior at that point.” Zach leaned over to Chris to clarify. “At college. He was a photography major-shocking, I know.”
“And he didn’t stay? Why not?”
Zach tilted his head back and forth in indecision. “It’s a long story.”
Chris gestured to their surroundings-fucking smart-ass copy-cat-and Zach shook his head.
“You’ve already used your card for that today.” Zach sighed. “At any rate, not really my story to tell. But basically, Joey was bored. Wanted to do something different with his life. So I took him along.” Joey had actually swallowed a bottle of pills before Zach had made him puke his guts out, but it all amounted to the same.
Chris eyed him suspiciously, but let it pass. “What was the tour?”
“Well, the guy I learned knife skills from actually went to Ren Faires across the country. He had this act-“ Zach stared at the sky again, “fuck if I remember the name. But I was a stage hand and back-up actor.” Zach smiled at the memory. It had been an interesting summer. He had received his first blow job from a gate greeter in North Carolina. “Joey mostly painted sets. But in the end, we both wound up being in the act. Once I started having the knives thrown at me, it only took time to convince Joey he could it as well.”
“Throw the knives?”
“Nah. Joey would pop out of a barrel and look frightened out of his wits, and Steve would throw a knife as his head went down.”
“Missing, I take it.” Chris huffed a laugh. “Can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t want to do that.”
“Hey, they’re not really sharp.”
“Still pointy, though.”
“It’s all illusion.” Zach felt his fingers twitch for another cigarette, but somehow they had weaved through the neighborhood and back to a strip mall. How quaint-what asshole had told him that Montréal looked like an old European city? Liar.
They waited at a crosswalk for cars to pass. It took a while, maybe too long, for Chris eventually said, “That was really nice of you.”
“Hmm?” Zach read some shop signs-English! Maybe he could pull off this trip, after all.
“Taking Joe with you. I mean, I like my sister Katie, but I couldn’t imagine seeing her every day for 17 years.” Chris made a face. “I already shared that many with her at home.”
Zach quirked a lip, not sure how to take that. “We became really close after our dad died, so we stuck together after that.”
“Yeah… I can imagine.”
Zach side-eyed Chris, knowing that bringing up dead parents in any conversation was usually a killer. People didn’t want to think about death to begin with, not to mention hear evidence that all parents weren’t immortal.
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets, and Zach wanted to close the conversation once and for all.
“Joey is… the best person I know.” Zach smiled. “He deserves all the happiness in the world. Considering that I was his fucked-up younger brother for many years, saving him from college was the least I could do.”
Chris looked at him sharply, and Zach tried to shrug it off. “Stir-crazy, you know? Instead of taking pictures of, gee, actual flowers, they had him using a white box.” Zach shook his head. “Fuck that shit, that’s all I got to say.”
Zach stopped in front of a small indie boutique, noticing little felt creatures and dolls in the window. “Shit, Ma would love a llama.” Him and Joey hadn’t sent her anything in ages-and who knew when Zach would head into town again?
Chris was still silent as Zach pointed out the yellow pin, complete with a dude in a sombrero riding the back.
Chris squinted his eyes. “Do people actually ride llamas?”
“Sure, why not? They have legs.” As Zach looked for the door, Chris was shaking his head.
“Yeah, but I have legs.”
As Zach pulled on the shop handle, he looked back with a lascivious grin. “Are you saying I can’t ride you?”
Predictably, Chris flushed red-success.
“I’m going to go get my mama a llama. Be right back.”
It allowed Zach a few moments of needed respite. But he still grinned and waved his llama at an embarrassed Chris through the store window, because he couldn’t fucking help himself.
)O(
They actually went to a movie in the afternoon-a superhero flick they could both agree on-then wound up walking back to the IKEA house in the evening. It was almost a disappointment, except Zach’s shoes were starting to kill him.
“Cafeteria?” Chris asked as they showed their badges to the security guard, and Zach nodded. “Good, I’m starving.”
“You mean eating a whole barrel of popcorn was a snack?”
Chris squinted his eyes. “You had at least half.”
Zach pouted. “I’m never burning those calories off.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure the voyagers had paunches.” Chris held up his hands in self-defense. “Kidding, kidding!”
“You still don’t have a sense of humor,” Zach muttered, following Chris into the cafeteria.
It seemed most of their group had the same idea. Karl and Bruce were chatting with John in a huddle, while Zoe and Eric chatted with Joey and Natalia at the other end of the table.
Such friendly circumstances.
“Hey, where are you going?”
Zach scratched his head, trying to seem like he hadn’t been about to dart from the cafeteria. Chris was holding out an empty tray for him, and Zach took it.
“Nothing,” Zach said. Either Chris was the most unobservant human being in existence, or Chris liked the drama. “Thought I forgot something upstairs, I don’t know.”
Chris gave him an odd look, but immediately dismissed it as he piled on veggies over rice-brown rice.
Zach looked down at his mac and cheese and Jell-O and started questioning his life choices.
“Hey,” Zoe said warmly as they approached. “How did your date go?”
Zach noticed that she was looking at Chris, so Zach took that as his opportunity to sneak away. He gave a little wave to them all, then beat a quick retreat to the man-huddle 20 feet away.
John held out a hand for a fist bump. “Dude, you survived.”
“Leave it to the Cirque to land us in the boring part of Montréal.” Zach dropped his tray and it cracked a bit too loudly. He smiled at Karl and Bruce, but kept talking to John. “What did you guys do?”
Karl looked down at the table, and Zach hoped to God that somebody else would answer that question.
“I terrorized some pigeons in the park.” John looked too proud of himself. “Got them back for the first day I came here.”
Zach narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? What, did they kill your wife and eat her?”
“So when I came in the first time to headquarters, there was a roving band of them in the parking lot.” John leaned back, gesturing with his hands. “I leave my car, thinking, ‘I’ll slam the door and scare them off.’ No. Them bitches flew at me. I practically got chased from my shitty car to the shitty building, throwing open the goddamn doors.” John threw out his hands. “Sanctuary, sanctuary!”
Zach chuckled at that, while Bruce buried his head in his hands.
“And you know, I’d forgive them if that was the first time.”
“This sounds like a Hitchcock movie,” Karl quipped, finally laughing.
“Every-single-time that I leave that stupid building and go to the east-side parking lot, I’m mobbed by terrorist pigeons.”
“It’s true, they’re a hazard,” Bruce said as he wiped his eyes.
Zach grinned. “Okay, so how did you teach them a lesson?” He hoped none of it meant mortal peril, because Joey was sensitive to that sort of thing.
“So the Cirque has these blow horns in their storage room-“
Zach put his head in his hands. “I see where this is going.”
“They have this really interesting setting called ‘On’. Also known as ‘The Death Knell of Pigeons’.”
Karl barked a laugh, and Bruce piped up with, “Shit, I have to get one of those for my car!”
Zach shook his head in amusement. “Vengeance is yours.”
“Hell yeah. I chased those motherfuckers onto another street.” John gave them all a solemn look. “Cirque du Soleil is safe from marauders once again.”
Karl went in for a high-five. “Good man, good man.”
Zach was still chuckling about it when he turned his head, for no real reason-but it made him notice the other end of their table. Zoe was laughing loudly, maybe more so than Karl, and Zach suddenly had a feeling of awkwardness.
Joey was apparently telling a story, and next to him sat Chris, who caught Zach’s eye. There was a slight smile of acknowledgement before Chris went back to listening to Joey, although he didn’t seem to be as amused as the rest of the group.
Zach frowned at his mac and cheese. What was this, 900 calories?
“So what did you do today?”
Zach stuck the fork in his mouth as he glanced at John. Good thing, too-John was looking a tad too smug.
“Walked around. Saw a movie.” Zach shrugged. “Like I said, not much.” He almost threw in the train museum, but then Karl had just gained his smile back. Considering that it was also the scene of Zach’s traumatic mauling incident, he was okay with forgetting that place entirely.
“Yeah, same,” Karl said, then turned to Bruce. “We saw The Avengers. It was nice to just watch shit blow up.”
“Exactly,” Zach said while pointing his fork. “Also? Chris Evans’ backside-just saying.”
“It’s unfair how attractive he is.” John shook his head. “I should’ve just laid down in the parking lot and let the pigeons eat me.”
As Karl and Bruce laughed, Zach patted John’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re still the prettiest in my book.”
“You mean it?” John leaned his head against Zach’s arm, pretending to sob. “Thank god for these anti-aging genes!”
Zach made a pity face for Karl and Bruce’s amusement, but it only took a turn of the head for Zach to notice the whole table was watching him. Eric, Zoe, and Joey were laughing-and then, of course, there was Chris.
Chris who chuckled softly with a small smile, then shook his head as he stood up with his tray.
“Don’t ever leave me, Zach,” John bemoaned, then shoved Zach’s shoulder away with a laugh. “Man, my only hope is that someday Ryan Gosling grows hideous with wrinkles.”
Joey leaned back from the table. “Aww, we’d still love you, John! Looks aren’t everything.”
“Funny, that’s what Ma told you,” Zach said easily. Yet despite the laughter around him, he wasn’t paying attention to any one of them.
Chris had walked out of the cafeteria without a word. Maybe he was tired, for all Zach knew.
“It’s a good thing Ma had two sons,” Zach started as he twisted back to face them. “You know, if you don’t get it right the first time…”
Joey threw a wad of napkins at him, but it finally made both groups slide together, brokering a tentative peace.
)O(
It was starting to become old. Day after day, after four months of training and rehearsing the same things, they were all still separate. With the soft opening of the show almost two months away, it made Zach skeptical. They didn’t even know the name of their production, much less how their acts would actually piece together. Why the fuck was Louis hired as a choreographer? Zach would’ve been good enough to boss people around.
But the moment Zach thought it was the moment that Louis snuck in: Louis had been watching them. And in less than a day, Louis revealed how he was going to smack their routines together.
Suddenly it became obvious on why they were left alone for so long-Louis had combined acts for them to learn. The rest of their time would be spent smoothing segues, not on inventing anything new.
“Five hour group practice, every day,” Louis shouted at them from the bleachers, “until the last week. Then it will be all you breathe, think, and dream about.”
It was everything Zach wanted, and at the same time the information slammed into his brain like bricks.
“Treat Eclipse like your baby, and it won’t act up on you.” Louis leaned back in his seat and watched them on the performance floor of the gym. He smiled, and Zach recognized it for the impending shitstorm that it was. “Start from the top.”
Everyone in the troupe met eyes as Zach wanted to tell them to hoof it. They had spent the last three hours being grilled on new routines, and those damn dance moves wouldn’t be acted by themselves.
All the performers ran to the back of the gym-the new backstage-leaving John on the main floor. John, whose day had been the roughest of them all, trying to read and learn new sheet music while Louis’ shouted instructions.
“Behold!” John shouted at the bleachers, shuffling papers in his hands. “Us wayward monsters!” He twisted to the side, giving a sly glance. “We know not what becomes of us, only what begins.”
It was an interesting start, Zach would admit, although a bit more English than he expected. But Joey reminded him that some Cirque shows started with a quote on screen; so maybe in live performances the actors had to read them out loud.
But suddenly a rush of loud music filled the gym. As John ran back to join the troupe, Zach knew they were all supposed to race forward-all but the voyagers, who would be gliding on stage with their canoe at any moment.
The rest of the troupe ran forward in a flash mob, acting like wild animals of the night. Chris had claws bared, Eric his teeth, while Zoe and Karl growled and stomped their feet. John stood at the back and surveyed them all with immense pride
As the wild creatures cleared out and the music stopped, Zach felt his pulse race. This was the moment, this spotlight on them alone-the part of performing that became addicting over time, to the point where Zach was sure he’d never get enough.
He met Joey’s eyes with an assured smile. When Joey grinned back, they raced out in their pretend canoe, paddling the imaginary river.
Masterlist | Act II (Part Two)
Masterlist: I ( One, Two) | II ( One, Two) | III ( One, Two) | IV ( One, Two)
ACT II
Eventually, two months after they arrived at the Cirque, the troupe got the green light on their evolving projects. This with some enthusiasm from Louis, translated into a head nod from Guy Laliberté.
This also resulted in Karl throwing knives at Zach’s head, but Zach wasn’t about to complain.
“Eeek!” Zach shrieked and made a face, pretending to be terrified of the next incoming blade. Instead Zach caught it between his palms, inches from his chest, comically crossing his eyes at the red hilt.
The audience would never know it was dull as a fork, but it made Chris gasp from the bleachers, anyway.
Karl followed up with shrugging his shoulders at Bruce-apparently they had thrown their last knife, and what a shame. Until Zach, thinking he was clever, started throwing their own knives back at them.
Natalia raised an eyebrow as the throwing turned into juggling, with Joey handing Zach whatever items he found lying around-knives, shoes, apples, a random stuffed chicken-until the plethora of strange items was being juggled between them, with Karl and Bruce being exaggeratedly disturbed by it all. Eventually it ended with the chicken bonking Bruce in the head, the apple being eaten by a very hungry John, and the knives stabbing Joey’s empty shoes into the ground.
Which made Karl and Bruce angry, apparently. Zach and barefoot Joey ran away to the amusement of the bleachers.
Some people were easy to please, but Zach grinned up at an applauding Chris. “I think Joey was going to go up there and steal your guys’ shoes next.”
“Wouldn’t dare,” Natalia said, regretfully, as Zach was trying to ignore her existence.
But Joey leapt into the seats and sat down next to her, poking the petite woman in the arm. “Your heels might have been a challenge.”
Why was a contortionist wearing heels, anyway? “I wouldn’t have minded throwing those.”
The French Bitch gave Zach a dirty look. “I bet.”
“Hey, why don’t we all break for lunch?” Joey said, checking the imaginary watch on his arm. “We’ll reconvene at two.”
More than hour, but whatever.
“Sounds great,” Karl said as he patted Bruce on the shoulder. “We’ve been working hard all week, anyway.”
Bruce nodded in agreement. “Don’t think we worked this hard on our last show.”
“You weren’t in the last show,” Karl pointed out, tapping the tip of Bruce’s nose. “You were helping with the recruitment of these folks.”
Bruce held out his hands in defeat, but Zach was too busy watching Joey as he snuck the French Bitch from the room. Not even a goodbye? See ya later?
“You want to take lunch outside?”
Zach jerked his head back reluctantly. Chris was walking down the stairs of the metal bleacher seats, still in his training gear. That morning he had aggravated his ‘bum ankle’, and after some icing and watching a quick show, Chris would supposedly be ready to go again.
But lunch sounded fine. “I thought you’d want to jump back into things.”
Chris gave Zach a knowing look. “I think you might want the company.”
Whatever that meant. But Zach wasn’t about to complain. They had been taking lunch together over the last few weeks, anyhow. Today would be no different.
It was a strange friendship to slip into. Zach had never intended such a thing-Chris had a hot bod and an intriguing aura of mystery-but he was meant to be pestered and nothing more. Instead he told Zach to wait outside at some picnic tables, and Zach knew Chris would bring him something reminiscent of what he’d been eating. Chris was stupidly observant, after all.
“I’ve been waiting for a nice day,” Chris said as he passed Zach a bowl of mac and cheese-hell yes. “I’ve never been to Canada, have no clue of Montréal. Kind of a shame that we’re stuck inside all the time.”
They really weren’t stuck, per se. It was more that if Zach wanted to save his ass in the Cirque, he’d better be working and not playing.
“Maybe they’ll let us out one of these weekends,” Chris said between bites of his club sandwich.
“Why not this weekend?” It wasn’t a law. And anyway, if it was, Zach would claim that he couldn’t read fine print. Grandpa glasses, or some shit.
And maybe he did really need those glasses, for he could’ve sworn that Chris smiled very briefly, like a secret.
“The weather is supposed to be nice tomorrow. We could grab lunch in town, for a change.”
It was said so nonchalantly that Zach was almost fooled. “You want to go out to lunch with me?”
Chris took a larger bite of his sandwich, then took his time to chew. “Yeah. I mean, John is hanging out with Bruce and Eric, and Anton is going out with Zoe and Karl.”
Oh, so this was a planned mass exodus. “All right, I’m game. I’ll ask Joey if he wants to join us.”
Chris picked up a sliver of tomato with his fingers. It was sort of sloppy, something Chris wouldn’t have done in his company two months ago. But now Chris was open like a book, and he could read the hesitant look behind the action.
“You don’t want Joey along? What’s wrong with Joey?”
Chris shrugged, still biding his time. “Um, well. I thought you had noticed his new… lady friend.”
Well, fuck, if that didn’t bring everything into sharper focus. If Joey had a playdate, that meant the only two without plans tomorrow would be him and Chris-and well, maybe Chris had plans with Bruce first, or John first, and then they fell through. Zach was the last available option, next to some nameless schmuck.
It stung a bit, Zach would have to admit. “You don’t have to go with me. I mean, I’m sure Zoe wouldn’t mind you tagging along-“
Chris’ unexpected burst of laughter would be almost cute if it weren’t mocking. Tomato juice ran down his chin as Chris tried not to choke. “You’re kidding, right?”
Zach shook his head, his eyes squinted in confusion. Chris was bad at jokes, certainly, but at least Zach could usually determine an attempt at humor.
Chris shook his head as he rolled up the foil of his sandwich. “Zach, Zach, Zach. Zachary Quinto.”
“Only my mother, and people I’ve had sex with, say my name that many times in a row.”
Chris glanced up at him, sending him a look. “Just have lunch with me, okay? I haven’t tried anywhere in this town, and we’re only here for a short while.”
Zach rested his head on his hand, elbow on the picnic table as he glanced away from Chris. What the fuck was Joey doing tomorrow? They really hadn’t hung out since they reached the Cirque, and there was likely a row of shots in their name at some local bar.
“Hello, Earth to Zach.”
Zach shifted his head slightly, watching as Chris took his abandoned mac and cheese to the garbage can. Maybe Chris was like his mother. Which would be odd, but Zach hadn’t had a mother in a long while.
“What, Mom?”
Chris wrinkled his nose in disdain. “God, don’t ever say that again.”
Zach shrugged, still watching as Chris only stood before the table, obviously his signal that they should head back inside. But honestly, Zach just wanted to watch the cars in the parking lot for a while. Or maybe spend the extra hour of lunch stalking wherever Joey took the French Bitch.
She didn’t even have boobs. Men normally only dated women like that for boobs, right? She was petite and built like a pole; which aided the contortionist thing fine, but she probably looked like a prepubescent boy underneath it all.
Joey had only ever dated blondes with bubbly laughs and a nice rack. What was he doing?
“Are you going to sit there and mope all day?”
“Not all day.”
“Just for two hours or so.”
Zach looked back at Chris in annoyance. Especially since Chris was sitting back down at the table, hands in the pocket of his blue hoodie.
“Natalia is rather nice, you know.”
“I wouldn’t know.” And he didn’t want to be converted. “She gives me the evil eye.”
“It doesn’t help that you give her a death glare.”
Zach scowled and got up from the table. “Why don’t you hang out with them tomorrow, since you like her so much.”
“Are you 12?” Chris stood up and followed Zach inside. “Seriously, I asked you because I want to hang out with you. I like Natalia, but I have a feeling she would appreciate the alone time.”
“God, for what?” Zach shivered as the answer immediately appeared in his brain-naked limbs entangled on a bed sheet. “Eww.”
But all Zach heard was a sigh behind him. It made Zach turn his head and catch Chris staring at his feet as they shuffled the hallway, blindly following Zach back to the gymnasiums.
It was too much trust, really. Zach stopped short and Chris staggered to avoid a collision.
“I just don’t get it, that’s all.” Why should Zach explain himself? But he was doing it, anyway. “I mean, he’s dated lots of women before. She’s just not his type, and frankly he’s never been that moony before, and-“
Chris was giving him another skeptical look.
“What? What am I saying wrong, here?”
But Chris only gave him a soft smile of forgiveness. For what, Zach didn’t know.
“Meet me at 10, in the front?” Chris asked as he ducked his head in caution. “We can explore on our own, or we can play it by ear-whatever you want.”
Oh, that stuff. Zach brushed a hand in the air. “Yeah, sure. Grab a coffee first, whatever.”
And there was still a smile of forgiveness. Chris even closed his eyes as he shook his head, patting Zach on the shoulder as walked back to the gym.
“See you tomorrow.” And without further discussion, Chris threw the hoodie up over his head, leaving Zach alone to his own devices.
)O(
Which, frankly, could’ve turned out worse. Joey was sooner than expected, overly-cheerful but ready to work. It had happened just at the point of Zach considering a fake text message of emergency, wondering if his brother would rush to respond over Zach spraining an ankle.
That wasn’t weird, was it? Zach gave half his mind to the act as he studied Joey’s face. He was older than Zach by a few years-late 30s now, with their old lives starting to catch up with him-but he was handsome. Mohawk and punk appearances aside, he didn’t have too many wrinkles; his face not showing much strain despite their hard lives. Joey was lithe and trim and fairly healthy, although he woke up sometimes with a few aches and pains.
Did Natalia know about the aches and pains? Or that Joey took tea in the evenings with honey and soymilk, a book stretched out before him, currently reading something about Native American poetry. That he liked his pillows medium-firm, his underwear in colors other than white, his socks crew-cut. Joey would freak out if he couldn’t roll them into matching pairs.
“You okay, man?” Joey said between takes, a hand on the back of Zach’s neck to pull him into confidence. “You’re distracted.”
“No, no I’m not.” And while Zach meant it to answer the second question, maybe it was really for the first. After 17 years of taking care of Joey, maybe he wasn’t okay at all.
But Joey nodded. “We’re all tired. Thank God for the weekend, right?”
The weekend. With the French Bitch. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Let’s catch dinner.” He patted Zach on the back, then held open the hallway door. “Get some food in you.”
Zach was going to eat an entire pie. An entire chocolate-and-emo filled pie of green, green bitterness.
)O(
It lingered. Chris was already out front talking to Zoe and Karl in the morning, catching them before they went their own way. As Karl leaned on a railing, Zoe entangled their hands together, her fingertips caressing his palm.
Zach rolled his eyes-was everyone fucking in this shindig? Except him, of course. And maybe Eric-who didn’t seem to be hanging around anyone, actually. Which offered some tantalizing possibilities.
“See you guys later,” Chris said with a wave. Karl waved back, with sunglasses in one hand and Zoe’s fingers in the other.
It was stupidly cute, and Zach wanted to puke.
“You need coffee,” Chris said as he stood up from the rail. “Me too.”
“The sun can go fuck itself.” Zach put on his sunglasses-why was there sun in Canada? It was up north, the shiny bald spot of the Americas. “But yes, coffee.”
“Karl and Zoe are going to some museums.”
“Sure.” Zach didn’t know a thing about Montréal. “Honestly, I’m up for anything. I have no idea what’s even here.”
Chris shrugged. “We can walk around, see what we come across?”
Zach grimaced in acceptance. Not in a bad way, but in a way that they were doing too much talking in the morning. As they got their coffees from the cafeteria before leaving-Chris took his black, what a champ-they were silent and speaking only when necessary. Zach didn’t have the brain function to worry about how to salvage things.
“So… tell me something I don’t know.”
They hadn’t walked far. There was a park that was kitty corner to the IKEA house, and they both instinctively sat on the swings. Chris actually swung his as Zach kept his legs straight, bracing against the ground to stay still.
Zach licked his lips. “Do you know all the presidents?”
Chris huffed a laugh. “What, do you?”
Zach looked up at the sky, trying to remember the rote memorization from fifth grade. “Washington and Adams, Jefferson and Madison. Monroe, Adams, Jackson-“
“Oh my God.”
“I can even do them backwards-shit, maybe not anymore. There’s been a few new ones since then.”
“Professor Quinto is teaching me things.”
“Um, Bush and Clinton-no wait, Obama and Bush and Clinton, Bush, Reagan, Carter-“
“How the hell did you forget Obama?”
“It’s a fucking rhythm, okay.” Zach took a sip of his coffee. “Anyway, we’re discussing American history in a foreign country.”
“So tell me something that’s not American history.” Chris leaned his cheek against the chain-link of his swing. “I know a lot of American history, anyway.”
“As you should, Mister Team USA.”
The moment it left his mouth Zach grimaced, but Chris waved it off.
“My dad’s a history teacher at my old high school.”
“Did he make you do nerdy things?” Zach liked the insinuation of that question. “Do I have to pull out the Paul Revere doll, so you can tell me where he made you learn?”
Chris only rolled his eyes, thankfully. “I just know stupid and random shit about the Civil War, that’s all.”
“Name one.” Zach took an absent sip of his coffee, observing this comfortable and silly version of Chris. They had been friends for a about a month, known each other twice as long, but Chris had never been this willingly chatty.
This probably meant Operation: Bother Nerdy Boy had been a success, but Chris was still fun to hang out with.
“Um… Lincoln’s favorite tune was Dixie?”
“How do you know that?”
“How does anyone know anything?”
“Cop out.”
Chris stood up as he finished his coffee, walking it over to a trash can. “Okay, I know it because I went back in a time machine, and heard Lincoln whistling it under his breath. Especially while he was coping with smallpox during the Gettysburg address.”
“Is that painful?” Zach had just reached the trash can, draining his cup. “Like chicken pox?”
“Probably. Except with, you know, death.”
Zach grimaced again-he was doing a lot of that, this morning. As he caught up to Chris and they began to walk in-step, Zach wanted to turn to less-weird subjects.
“So why are you at the Cirque?” That seemed innocent enough.
Chris laughed at the question. “Dude, that is a long, long story.”
Zach gestured to the open fields and parking garages surrounding them. Civilization appeared up ahead, but it would be a while before they got somewhere interesting.
Chris took the hint and sighed. “My mom thought it would be good for me. I was going to retire. I’m over 30, don’t have a hope nor a prayer for the Olympics, am tired of the Championship circuit-“ Chris ducked his head sheepishly, it was starting to become a trend. “I was thinking of being a coach.”
“But Mother knows best,” Zach said in sing-song, and Chris smiled at him.
“I guess. She’s been paying for it for most of my life, so.”
Chris gestured with his hands, which Zach took as a good sign. Unlike all the building signs that seemed to be in French-Zach didn’t know a lick of it.
“What is it about gymnastics? You know, why are you dedicating your life to it.”
Chris looked at him curiously, but Zach was being earnest. Zach was always earnest with people who had passion, no matter what kind. There were few people in the world with narrow enough vision and dedication to pursue something for so long, much less life-long. Zach had his own answers, but Chris didn’t have the same life he did.
Chris looked up at the sky in thought. “It’s… very precise. Athletic. You’re taking your body and stretching its limits, and commanding it to do what you want-well, most of the time.”
“Control and domination.”
“I look at people who are famous in the sport and they’re like gods. You try to do what they do, try to go where they went-and when you try, no matter what, and you constantly fail, it’s…” Chris waved his hands wordlessly. “Inspiring. And sometimes, when you achieve what they do, it’s like… you’ve reached the pinnacle of your human body.”
It was almost disappointing. Zach had expected some lines about the human experience, sure. But this answer seemed egotistical.
“Are you trying to be Hercules?” Zach asked with a raised brow.
Chris laughed, ducking his head again. Was the boy never embarrassed or properly humble? It didn’t fit into normal, logical pieces.
“Supposedly if you work hard enough, you can be.”
Zach pursed his lips-what an insinuation. He doubted that Chris hadn’t worked hard enough.
“No room for talent or limitations of the body, then?"
Chris tilted his head, touché. “Sure. But then you never get to be Hercules.”
“You know he like, killed his wife and stuff?” Zach shook his head. “Had an asshole of a father, too. Dude with a massive god complex.”
“But he finished-and succeeded-the twelve trials of Hercules. Complete with killing hydras and capturing a three-headed dog.” Chris ticked a finger at him. “That’s pretty impressive, be honest.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Chris grinned in disbelief. “’Yeah, sure’? Really? Come on.”
Zach shrugged. “I mean that’s impressive. But can you imagine that dude at a bar? Conversation would consist of, ‘Hi, I’m a circus clown.’ ‘Oh really? I made a hydra choke on its own dick.’ ‘Oh, that’s cool, man.’”
Chris covered his face with his hands, and Zach barreled on.
“What do you think his opinion on politics is? Or fluffy bunnies? Photography? Clowns?”
“Are you saying he wouldn’t have an opinion?”
“No, not at all. I’m just saying that I care more about fluffy bunnies than about a three-headed dog.”
Chris made a confused face. “The world revolves around more than your interests, though.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“He might care about the three-headed dog.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t give a shit.”
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets, as if to stuff his annoyance. “Pray tell, what is your opinion on fluffy bunnies?”
“Too much work. Had one as a kid, and it developed dreadlocks and looked like a reggae singer.” Zach stopped in front of a building and read the sign. “Oh look, it’s a shitty train museum. Sounds interesting. Care to go in?”
Zach opened the glass door and gestured pointedly, and Chris gave him a droll look.
“Sure. Why not.” As he passed Zach, he muttered, “Too bad there aren’t any reggae bunnies in here.”
Zach aimed for a boot in the ass, but Chris was too quick and already joined the line for admission.
)O(
It turned out they weren’t the only ones at the train museum. As Zach followed Chris beyond admissions, they spotted Anton watching a motorized display come to life.
“Everyone’s here,” Anton confirmed. His eyes darted from the toy-caboose to Zach, and then back again. “Joe and Natalia are around the corner.”
Oh, joy.
“How about Karl and Zoe-hey, Zach?”
But Zach went to the first corner Anton had pointed to, although there were several in that direction. He kept close to the walls, hoping to get a sneak peek of Joey in action. Maybe Zach would come across something good.
“What are you, James Bond?” Chris asked too loudly.
Zach put a finger to his lips as he peeked around a lit train display. But instead of seeing the occupants, he actually heard them first.
“I’m not trying to tie you down anywhere. Just, you know, if you don’t want kids and I don’t want kids-“
“I know the logical reasons, trust me.”
“Then what the hell is it?” Karl said a bit too loudly, and Zach winced. “The Cirque has amazing career opportunities after you’ve retired-“
“You’re just not listening to me.”
“What, what the hell-that’s what I’m doing now! How can you say-“
Zach turned abruptly in the opposite direction and grabbed Chris’ sleeve. “Yeah, no.”
“Maybe we should see if she’s okay-“
“Zoe’s wearing heels in a public place.” Zach hid behind a large column, finally spying a familiar mohawk. “I’d worry more about Karl.”
Chris frowned as he stood next to Zach. “I thought Zoe wanted to stay with Karl at the Cirque.”
“Huh?” Zach watched as Joey did a fake-yawn and then chickened-out of touching Natalia’s back. “Why the hell would she do that?”
“Because they’ve been together five years and were thinking of getting an apartment-“ Chris looked over Zach’s shoulder, then huffed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Chris marched out from behind the column, and Zach was too late to catch and drag him back.
“Hey, Joe,” Chris said loudly, then gave Zach a dirty look.
When Joey’s eyes flickered between the two of them, Zach hoped he had straightened in time to appear nonchalant. Probably not, but then sometimes Joey was a bit dense.
“Joey,” Zach said with too much feigned fondness. He threw his arm around Joey’s shoulder, then glanced at the display that had captured the entirety of his brother’s attention. “I didn’t know you liked trains.” Zach read the inscription. “Especially ones that killed like, 20 people.”
“Um,” Joey said as his eyes quickly scanned the inscription. “I like wheels?”
Zach nodded slowly. “Yeah, they’re quite useful. Dawning of civilization, and all that.”
“Well, trains were responsible for building trade and commerce across the Americas,” Chris said defensively, for whatever reason, as he went to stand next to the French Bitch. Traitor.
Zach gave his cheesiest smile. “Oh, I’m sure, Mr. Knowledge.”
“That was on the sign when we came in,” said French Bitch in a chopped, thick accent. She could kill kittens with her voice, Zach was sure.
“Yes-big plaque, right out front. Couldn’t miss it unless you were hiding from it,” Chris said while smiling at Natalia, and she actually pleasantly smiled back at him. Imagine that.
Zach was about to say what the fuck? when Joey chimed in.
“Zach doesn’t really like to read things. More like a glance and he’s through-more of a ‘take it or leave it’ sort of person.”
Zach flexed his hands near his brother’s neck. He was getting the impression he was getting ganged up.
“Yeah, so I’m going to take my leave over here-“ And as Zach stepped over to another boring display about stupid trains, an arm snaked through his elbow and refused to let go.
It was even worse than Zach imagined: Her claws gripped him like a falcon, or like some killer owl about to rip the flesh off of a mouse.
“Hello, Zach.”
When Zach peered down at Natalia-and it was a long look, since he struggled unsuccessfully to get his damn arm back-she was actually smiling at him. All less-than-five-feet of her practically beamed with triumph, and it gave Zach the impression she was trying to disarm him with blinding kindness.
“It is about time we had a chat.”
Zach tried his cheesiest smile back. “Oh, I agree. I was just thinking I should have invited you to tea. My manners.”
“Joe has told me so much about you.”
Zach gave a wincing smile as she moved him to another exhibit-apparently French Bitch was intent on controlling the show, and as far away from Joey as possible.
“I hope just the good things.”
“You know, it is so peculiar-“ and her ‘u’s’ sounded like she was puking, and Zach tried not to laugh “-Joe says you are so sociable, and yet I never see you around.”
Zach gave an exaggerated shrug. “Well, I’m just so busy talking to the people I like, that I barely have time left for the people I don’t.” He patted her arm with his free hand. “You know how it is.”
“It is difficult to find that time-but then, we all must make do.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Especially if it is for my boyfriend’s sake.”
“Well, don’t strain yourself, honey-it’s not like you’re in promise ring territory, yet.”
She gave him a wicked smile. “Yet.”
It was a good thing she let go of his arm, because he was about to do a number of things he’d surely get arrested for. But Joey and Chris had found them again, and Zach was rubbing his arm.
“It was nice seeing you guys!” Chris said quickly, taking Zach’s shoulders and turning him around. “Catch you later.”
“Who says I want to go yet-“
Chris pushed his back until they were outside on the sidewalk, with Zach’s long legs barely beneath him. He finally caught a glimpse of Chris’ face, and then he shouted, “What? What did I do now?”
“Thankfully nothing.” Chris looked around at the busy street. “Keep your voice down.”
“God,” Zach said in exasperation, then looked down at his arm. “Do you see these half-moon marks? She fucking mauled me.”
“I know, Natalia is terrifying-all 4’11 and 90 pounds of her.”
“What have I told you about women in heels?” Chris apparently had no idea, but then Chris had never been smacked by one-not that Zach was going to divulge that life lesson any time soon.
“You’re impossible.” Chris huffed as he said it, and yet there was an undercurrent of fondness. “She was just trying to make friends with you.”
Zach outright laughed at that one-was still laughing as Chris made them stop at a quaint restaurant.
“I think you need an omelet.”
“Are you paying for my omelet?” Although Zach hadn’t had eggs in a while, so maybe it was a good plan after all.
“If you’re nice.” Chris held open the door and gestured with a hand, and Zach made a face at him.
“This is the lousiest date I’ve ever been on,” Zach grumbled as he passed through. “I’m glad I brought my wallet.”
Chris quirked a smile, and Zach wondered when he had become unintentionally amusing.
)O(
An omelet and toast and pancakes later, Zach was regretting all of it. Chris probably ate 300,000 calories a day, judging by his muscles, but Zach was going to balloon into the Goodyear blimp at this rate.
“God, I’ll need to walk to the States to get this off.” Zach patted his stomach, then reached into his pocket for his smokes. He showed them to Chris. “You mind?”
Chris motioned to the wall. “They might.”
Zach still didn’t read a lick of French, but the big red circle around the cigarette was clear. “Fuck my life.”
“It’s bad for you, anyway.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Chris rolled his eyes as Zach tucked the smokes back into his pocket. He debated between moving to smoke outside and sitting right where he was, but Chris made up his mind for him.
“Since you asked me-why are you at the Cirque?”
Zach settled into his seat and looked around at the empty restaurant. The breakfast shift had apparently cleared out, but the early-lunch crowd had not staggered in yet. Lousy tipping.
“Joey loves the Cirque, you know. He’s been wanting to go to a show for ages, but we mostly watch it on TV.” Zach shrugged as he leaned forward, taking his glass of water between both hands. “I heard about auditions from some guy at Ren Fest, so I decided to enter us.”
“You mean the Renaissance Faire?”
Zach made a face at that. “An unfortunately large portion of my illustrious resume.” Juggling, acting, harassing-sometimes combined as the best pickle seller in the whole Southwest.
Chris smiled at that. “Did you actually wear that fancy stuff? A codpiece?”
“Anyway-” Zach had actually worn pauper clothes, but whatever. “Joey and I applied, drove to Las Vegas, and here we are.”
“Joey really wanted to do it, then?”
“You have no idea how excited he was.” Zach smiled, in spite of himself, at the memory. “We had kind of hit a rut. Joey was feeling restless, I was feeling restless. Seemed like something different to do. Reliable and permanent, too.”
Chris was watching him carefully, and Zach had no idea why.
“So you didn’t care about Cirque du Soleil?”
Zach shrugged. That seemed rather irrelevant. “It’s a job. And anyway, Joey really wanted to go. I didn’t mind Canada the last time we were here, so… why not?”
Chris took a sip of his water, as if trying to think of something to say. Zach spared him
.
“Not that I never liked the shows. I just didn’t think they explained the meaning of life, or anything.”
“At least they allow you to be a clown, unlike other things?”
Zach nodded. That was obvious.
“So, um-why a clown, exactly?” Chris looked nervous as he said it, playing with the handle of his coffee mug. It was sort of cute, really.
“Why not?”
“Why not just be an actor?”
“Why don’t you just become a basketball player?”
Chris looked confused, and Zach wasn’t sure how else to explain it.
“I am an actor. I just have a focus.”
Chris tucked his arms into his chest and leaned on the table. “I don’t know shit about acting. Is there a special school?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t go to one.” Zach didn’t like this confessional part of the conversation, but it’s not like he kept many secrets, anyway. “I kind of bloomed late in high school. When everyone else was taking their SATs, I was juggling knives at talent shows.”
“How the hell did you start juggling knives?” Chris narrowed his eyes. “Where was your mother?”
Zach chuckled. “Watching me juggle knives at talent shows?”
“Oh God.”
“I learned from the best, don’t worry-she didn’t.” Zach smiled. “I was really into the drama club, right? No surprise. But that shit doesn’t last in the summer, so I had to find other ways to be on stage.”
“Community theater?”
Zach scoffed. “What? And play Tommy Djilas in The Music Man? Hell no.”
“Which led to the downward spiral of juggling knives.”
“Actually, being at the Pittsburgh Ren Fest was the downward spiral, but sure.”
Chris laughed. “You owe them a lot.”
“I just… I felt different than everyone else. I didn’t want to do actual theater, you know? Real theater has too many rules. Now, improv…” Zach trailed off, trying to think of how to explain it. “The only rule is to be honest and trust your partner. Ren Fest taught me a lot of that.”
“Makes sense why you travel with Joe, then.”
“Well-I could be honest with anybody.”
“Obviously.”
Zach waved a hand in the air, as if batting away the irritation. This was going to branch out into areas he didn’t want to talk about.
“So did Joe work with you at Ren Fest?”
Zach grimaced. Maybe he wasn’t as honest as he thought. Perhaps it was all about making other people think you were honest that sold a show.
“Sorry, did I ask something wrong-?”
Zach wiped his mouth and sat up straight, throwing his napkin on a plate. “No. I just need a smoke-it’s getting to me.”
Chris took the hint and pulled out his wallet, and Zach put out a hand.
“Dude, I was joking earlier-“
But Chris had already pulled out a few bills and was standing up. “I wasn’t.”
“Thanks,” Zach said hesitantly, feeling uncomfortably like he’d been rescued, or helped, or hugged unannounced. Annoying, really.
Chris gave a shy smile, then started walking out of the restaurant. As they passed their waiter, Chris gave him the money and the bill. “Merci.”
Since the waiter looked pleased-“Merci beaucoup”-Zach took that to mean they could finally escape, and did so promptly at a side door.
He needed air. He needed to walk away from the district, too.
Zach felt a bit overdramatic about it all. The more he remained silent, the more Chris probably thought that Zach was hiding something. And he was-but Chris didn’t have to know that.
If the Cirque was at twelve o’clock on the metaphorical city map, they were now walking towards three at an idle pace.
Once they were away from businesses, Zach took out his pack and eagerly lit up. He caught the expression on Chris’ face, a hint of worry on his features.
“It’s nothing bad.” Zach took a long drag, then angled the plumes away from Chris’ face. “Don’t worry about it.”
“So you and Joe haven’t always traveled together?”
“No, no, we always have.”
Chris looked confused.
“Joey is older than me. So it’s just-by the time I got out of high school, he had a few years of being solo.”
“Wait, he’s older?”
Zach shrugged. “I’m 35, he’s 38.” He looked over Chris’ features, seizing the moment. “How old are you?’
“Thirty-one.”
Zach nodded, flicking the ashes. He should probably be more polite, but they were walking on a side street with some mechanic garages, grass nowhere in sight.
They were silent for a while, and the cigarette had calmed Zach down, somewhat. They reached a row a residential housing-lines of townhomes all stuck together, looking virtually the same except for color.
“How did you guys start touring together?”
“Well, I wanted to leave home.”
“Joe didn’t?”
Zach shrugged. “Well…” He wanted to light up another cigarette, but he would think of something. “Joey needed a change of pace. So when I got an offer to leave on a traveling show, it seemed natural to ask him along.”
It had been a bit more complicated than that. At that point in Joey’s life, the world had worn him down to the nub-Pittsburgh had worn them both down. Too many people knew them, and Zach had wanted to escape into anonymity, despite leaving Ma behind. It had been a fresh start, embarking them both on their current life.
“How long have you guys been traveling together, then?”
Zach squinted at the sky. “Um… 18 years?” He shook his head. “No, 17. Joey was a senior at that point.” Zach leaned over to Chris to clarify. “At college. He was a photography major-shocking, I know.”
“And he didn’t stay? Why not?”
Zach tilted his head back and forth in indecision. “It’s a long story.”
Chris gestured to their surroundings-fucking smart-ass copy-cat-and Zach shook his head.
“You’ve already used your card for that today.” Zach sighed. “At any rate, not really my story to tell. But basically, Joey was bored. Wanted to do something different with his life. So I took him along.” Joey had actually swallowed a bottle of pills before Zach had made him puke his guts out, but it all amounted to the same.
Chris eyed him suspiciously, but let it pass. “What was the tour?”
“Well, the guy I learned knife skills from actually went to Ren Faires across the country. He had this act-“ Zach stared at the sky again, “fuck if I remember the name. But I was a stage hand and back-up actor.” Zach smiled at the memory. It had been an interesting summer. He had received his first blow job from a gate greeter in North Carolina. “Joey mostly painted sets. But in the end, we both wound up being in the act. Once I started having the knives thrown at me, it only took time to convince Joey he could it as well.”
“Throw the knives?”
“Nah. Joey would pop out of a barrel and look frightened out of his wits, and Steve would throw a knife as his head went down.”
“Missing, I take it.” Chris huffed a laugh. “Can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t want to do that.”
“Hey, they’re not really sharp.”
“Still pointy, though.”
“It’s all illusion.” Zach felt his fingers twitch for another cigarette, but somehow they had weaved through the neighborhood and back to a strip mall. How quaint-what asshole had told him that Montréal looked like an old European city? Liar.
They waited at a crosswalk for cars to pass. It took a while, maybe too long, for Chris eventually said, “That was really nice of you.”
“Hmm?” Zach read some shop signs-English! Maybe he could pull off this trip, after all.
“Taking Joe with you. I mean, I like my sister Katie, but I couldn’t imagine seeing her every day for 17 years.” Chris made a face. “I already shared that many with her at home.”
Zach quirked a lip, not sure how to take that. “We became really close after our dad died, so we stuck together after that.”
“Yeah… I can imagine.”
Zach side-eyed Chris, knowing that bringing up dead parents in any conversation was usually a killer. People didn’t want to think about death to begin with, not to mention hear evidence that all parents weren’t immortal.
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets, and Zach wanted to close the conversation once and for all.
“Joey is… the best person I know.” Zach smiled. “He deserves all the happiness in the world. Considering that I was his fucked-up younger brother for many years, saving him from college was the least I could do.”
Chris looked at him sharply, and Zach tried to shrug it off. “Stir-crazy, you know? Instead of taking pictures of, gee, actual flowers, they had him using a white box.” Zach shook his head. “Fuck that shit, that’s all I got to say.”
Zach stopped in front of a small indie boutique, noticing little felt creatures and dolls in the window. “Shit, Ma would love a llama.” Him and Joey hadn’t sent her anything in ages-and who knew when Zach would head into town again?
Chris was still silent as Zach pointed out the yellow pin, complete with a dude in a sombrero riding the back.
Chris squinted his eyes. “Do people actually ride llamas?”
“Sure, why not? They have legs.” As Zach looked for the door, Chris was shaking his head.
“Yeah, but I have legs.”
As Zach pulled on the shop handle, he looked back with a lascivious grin. “Are you saying I can’t ride you?”
Predictably, Chris flushed red-success.
“I’m going to go get my mama a llama. Be right back.”
It allowed Zach a few moments of needed respite. But he still grinned and waved his llama at an embarrassed Chris through the store window, because he couldn’t fucking help himself.
)O(
They actually went to a movie in the afternoon-a superhero flick they could both agree on-then wound up walking back to the IKEA house in the evening. It was almost a disappointment, except Zach’s shoes were starting to kill him.
“Cafeteria?” Chris asked as they showed their badges to the security guard, and Zach nodded. “Good, I’m starving.”
“You mean eating a whole barrel of popcorn was a snack?”
Chris squinted his eyes. “You had at least half.”
Zach pouted. “I’m never burning those calories off.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure the voyagers had paunches.” Chris held up his hands in self-defense. “Kidding, kidding!”
“You still don’t have a sense of humor,” Zach muttered, following Chris into the cafeteria.
It seemed most of their group had the same idea. Karl and Bruce were chatting with John in a huddle, while Zoe and Eric chatted with Joey and Natalia at the other end of the table.
Such friendly circumstances.
“Hey, where are you going?”
Zach scratched his head, trying to seem like he hadn’t been about to dart from the cafeteria. Chris was holding out an empty tray for him, and Zach took it.
“Nothing,” Zach said. Either Chris was the most unobservant human being in existence, or Chris liked the drama. “Thought I forgot something upstairs, I don’t know.”
Chris gave him an odd look, but immediately dismissed it as he piled on veggies over rice-brown rice.
Zach looked down at his mac and cheese and Jell-O and started questioning his life choices.
“Hey,” Zoe said warmly as they approached. “How did your date go?”
Zach noticed that she was looking at Chris, so Zach took that as his opportunity to sneak away. He gave a little wave to them all, then beat a quick retreat to the man-huddle 20 feet away.
John held out a hand for a fist bump. “Dude, you survived.”
“Leave it to the Cirque to land us in the boring part of Montréal.” Zach dropped his tray and it cracked a bit too loudly. He smiled at Karl and Bruce, but kept talking to John. “What did you guys do?”
Karl looked down at the table, and Zach hoped to God that somebody else would answer that question.
“I terrorized some pigeons in the park.” John looked too proud of himself. “Got them back for the first day I came here.”
Zach narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? What, did they kill your wife and eat her?”
“So when I came in the first time to headquarters, there was a roving band of them in the parking lot.” John leaned back, gesturing with his hands. “I leave my car, thinking, ‘I’ll slam the door and scare them off.’ No. Them bitches flew at me. I practically got chased from my shitty car to the shitty building, throwing open the goddamn doors.” John threw out his hands. “Sanctuary, sanctuary!”
Zach chuckled at that, while Bruce buried his head in his hands.
“And you know, I’d forgive them if that was the first time.”
“This sounds like a Hitchcock movie,” Karl quipped, finally laughing.
“Every-single-time that I leave that stupid building and go to the east-side parking lot, I’m mobbed by terrorist pigeons.”
“It’s true, they’re a hazard,” Bruce said as he wiped his eyes.
Zach grinned. “Okay, so how did you teach them a lesson?” He hoped none of it meant mortal peril, because Joey was sensitive to that sort of thing.
“So the Cirque has these blow horns in their storage room-“
Zach put his head in his hands. “I see where this is going.”
“They have this really interesting setting called ‘On’. Also known as ‘The Death Knell of Pigeons’.”
Karl barked a laugh, and Bruce piped up with, “Shit, I have to get one of those for my car!”
Zach shook his head in amusement. “Vengeance is yours.”
“Hell yeah. I chased those motherfuckers onto another street.” John gave them all a solemn look. “Cirque du Soleil is safe from marauders once again.”
Karl went in for a high-five. “Good man, good man.”
Zach was still chuckling about it when he turned his head, for no real reason-but it made him notice the other end of their table. Zoe was laughing loudly, maybe more so than Karl, and Zach suddenly had a feeling of awkwardness.
Joey was apparently telling a story, and next to him sat Chris, who caught Zach’s eye. There was a slight smile of acknowledgement before Chris went back to listening to Joey, although he didn’t seem to be as amused as the rest of the group.
Zach frowned at his mac and cheese. What was this, 900 calories?
“So what did you do today?”
Zach stuck the fork in his mouth as he glanced at John. Good thing, too-John was looking a tad too smug.
“Walked around. Saw a movie.” Zach shrugged. “Like I said, not much.” He almost threw in the train museum, but then Karl had just gained his smile back. Considering that it was also the scene of Zach’s traumatic mauling incident, he was okay with forgetting that place entirely.
“Yeah, same,” Karl said, then turned to Bruce. “We saw The Avengers. It was nice to just watch shit blow up.”
“Exactly,” Zach said while pointing his fork. “Also? Chris Evans’ backside-just saying.”
“It’s unfair how attractive he is.” John shook his head. “I should’ve just laid down in the parking lot and let the pigeons eat me.”
As Karl and Bruce laughed, Zach patted John’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re still the prettiest in my book.”
“You mean it?” John leaned his head against Zach’s arm, pretending to sob. “Thank god for these anti-aging genes!”
Zach made a pity face for Karl and Bruce’s amusement, but it only took a turn of the head for Zach to notice the whole table was watching him. Eric, Zoe, and Joey were laughing-and then, of course, there was Chris.
Chris who chuckled softly with a small smile, then shook his head as he stood up with his tray.
“Don’t ever leave me, Zach,” John bemoaned, then shoved Zach’s shoulder away with a laugh. “Man, my only hope is that someday Ryan Gosling grows hideous with wrinkles.”
Joey leaned back from the table. “Aww, we’d still love you, John! Looks aren’t everything.”
“Funny, that’s what Ma told you,” Zach said easily. Yet despite the laughter around him, he wasn’t paying attention to any one of them.
Chris had walked out of the cafeteria without a word. Maybe he was tired, for all Zach knew.
“It’s a good thing Ma had two sons,” Zach started as he twisted back to face them. “You know, if you don’t get it right the first time…”
Joey threw a wad of napkins at him, but it finally made both groups slide together, brokering a tentative peace.
)O(
It was starting to become old. Day after day, after four months of training and rehearsing the same things, they were all still separate. With the soft opening of the show almost two months away, it made Zach skeptical. They didn’t even know the name of their production, much less how their acts would actually piece together. Why the fuck was Louis hired as a choreographer? Zach would’ve been good enough to boss people around.
But the moment Zach thought it was the moment that Louis snuck in: Louis had been watching them. And in less than a day, Louis revealed how he was going to smack their routines together.
Suddenly it became obvious on why they were left alone for so long-Louis had combined acts for them to learn. The rest of their time would be spent smoothing segues, not on inventing anything new.
“Five hour group practice, every day,” Louis shouted at them from the bleachers, “until the last week. Then it will be all you breathe, think, and dream about.”
It was everything Zach wanted, and at the same time the information slammed into his brain like bricks.
“Treat Eclipse like your baby, and it won’t act up on you.” Louis leaned back in his seat and watched them on the performance floor of the gym. He smiled, and Zach recognized it for the impending shitstorm that it was. “Start from the top.”
Everyone in the troupe met eyes as Zach wanted to tell them to hoof it. They had spent the last three hours being grilled on new routines, and those damn dance moves wouldn’t be acted by themselves.
All the performers ran to the back of the gym-the new backstage-leaving John on the main floor. John, whose day had been the roughest of them all, trying to read and learn new sheet music while Louis’ shouted instructions.
“Behold!” John shouted at the bleachers, shuffling papers in his hands. “Us wayward monsters!” He twisted to the side, giving a sly glance. “We know not what becomes of us, only what begins.”
It was an interesting start, Zach would admit, although a bit more English than he expected. But Joey reminded him that some Cirque shows started with a quote on screen; so maybe in live performances the actors had to read them out loud.
But suddenly a rush of loud music filled the gym. As John ran back to join the troupe, Zach knew they were all supposed to race forward-all but the voyagers, who would be gliding on stage with their canoe at any moment.
The rest of the troupe ran forward in a flash mob, acting like wild animals of the night. Chris had claws bared, Eric his teeth, while Zoe and Karl growled and stomped their feet. John stood at the back and surveyed them all with immense pride
As the wild creatures cleared out and the music stopped, Zach felt his pulse race. This was the moment, this spotlight on them alone-the part of performing that became addicting over time, to the point where Zach was sure he’d never get enough.
He met Joey’s eyes with an assured smile. When Joey grinned back, they raced out in their pretend canoe, paddling the imaginary river.
Masterlist | Act II (Part Two)