Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)

11

Phillip frowned. He slowly sat up, hand to his forehead, and stared through half-asleep eyes at the room in front of him.

It took a moment to realize that he was not, in fact, sleeping on his cot in his tiny apartment. In fact, the bed he was in was massive - probably a king-size.

Feeling much more awake now, his cheeks flamed red at the realization. Had he had another one night stand blackout?

The young man flung the covers away from his body and sighed in relief. Aside from his boots, which he saw were placed against the wall beside him, he was still fully clothed. His clothes were rumpled from having slept in them, but other than that not so much as a button was out of place.

Once the relief faded a little, the headache set in.

He groaned.

He may not have have slept with anyone last night, but he sure did have one hell of a hangover. And - where was he, anyway?

Deciding he wasn't going to get many answers lying around in bed, Phillip forced himself up on trembling legs. He squinted in the dim lighting and decided to forego his shoes. A bed meant he had to be in someone's house, right? He didn't want to be rude.

In his mind, his father whispered a sneer. He winced. Mumbling a curse under his breath, he ran a hand through his bedhead, trying to tame it as much as possible. Then he crossed the room and opened the door.

A long hallway stretched before him. Wherever he was, it sure as hell was nicer than his dumpy little apartment. The other rooms were silent so he made his way to a staircase, clutching the banister for dear life. He hardly trusted himself, in his hungover state, to make it down the stairs safely, but he managed.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, realization set in. He could hear voices. One of which was very familiar.

Barnum?

Phillip hesitated a moment (why? his mind whispered. It's only Barnum) before following the voices into what turned out to be the kitchen. The family of four was seated at the table and Caroline was the first to notice him. She lifted her head, eyes lighting up instantly.

"Phillip!" she squealed. Jumping up from the table, meal forgotten, she rushed forward to give the man a hug. Helen waved from the table, cheeks pink, mouth chewing hurriedly.

"I'm sorry," Phillip sputtered, hand automatically falling to ruffle the girl's hair. "I didn't know I was - I mean, I don't remember coming—"

"It's all right, Phillip," Charity smiled soft, but her eyes were wary. "Phineas helped you here last night."

"He did?" Hesitant blue eyes flicked over to Barnum, who was only just now even acknowledging the other man in the room.

"I didn't recall where you lived," Phineas explained, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. Phillip stared at the ringmaster as he lifted an eyebrow.

"Come sit, Phillip," Charity offered. There was an empty chair beside her, across from Helen. Barnum sat at the head. "Eat something. It may help with your hangover," she chuckled.

"Oh, no, really, I don't mean to intrude. I—"

"Actually," Barnum interrupted, rising from the table. His wife and girls looked at him with similar expressions of confusion. "There was something I'd like to discuss with you, Mr. Carlyle."

Phillip stared at him blankly.

"May I speak with you in the other room? Alone?"