The Greatest Showman: March One-Shots

13. Page 42

i couldn't figure out what to write for this one for the life of me lmao but here ya go

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P.T. taps the end of the pen against his pursed lips, his eyebrows furrowed, as he tries to think of what to write next. He's 41 pages and three chapters into his memoir-slash-story-of-how-the-circus-came-to-be. And page 42, Chapter 4, begins talking about the tour—and, of course, Anne's accident.

He can't physically bring himself to write anything, can't figure out how to formulate the right thoughts. Cohesively, at least. His mind is spinning, and, when he closes his eyes to rub his tired eyelids, the image of Anne's crumpled figure on the dirt floor is imprinted on the inside.

He resorts to biting his knuckle instead, anxiously hitting his pen against page 41. His words scan over the last couple of sentences he's written, and part of him wonders if he can just reword them and skip the part about the Accident altogether.

If only.

He drops his pen on the desk, then covers his face with his hands—being sure to keep his eyes open. As much as he wants to, as much as he wishes he could, he knows he can't beat around the bush for this one. This is the first time the world will know the truth; if he refuses to discuss it any longer, people are going to start to think it never even happened in the first place.

And he'll be penned a "scoundrel" and a "fraud" all over again.

With a groan, P.T. pushes himself up out of his seat and goes out into the dining room, where Charity, Caroline, and Helen are on the floor playing Jacks. Currently, Caroline is winning, and P.T. smiles as he leans against the doorway, fondly watching them play.

Helen notices him first. "Hi, Daddy!" she calls, then goes back to paying attention to the game. When Caroline can't beat her record, they all start awwing and laughing.

"Aw, can I try?" P.T. asks, kneeling down between his daughters. He makes it to six before losing, and the reaction among the four is the same as when Caroline lost. P.T. laughs, pulling both of his daughters to his side and kissing the tops of their heads.

Charity smiles over at them. "You taking a break from writing?" she asks her husband.

P.T. just sighs. "Yeah, you could say that. I just..." He sighs again. "Can't really figure out what to write, you know?"

Charity nods, seemingly understanding what he's trying to say without him actually having to say it. She's always been like that. And that's why P.T. loves her so much. She knows his every thought, every word, every move, before he knows it himself.

"Girls, why don't you go on into the kitchen and get a snack? I'll meet you there in a minute," Charity says, and both girls reluctantly stand up and skip out. Their parents lovingly watch them as they go. But Charity's on him as soon as their voices fade.

"Alright, Phin. This is about Anne, isn't it?"

See?

He doesn't even have to respond, either. Because she just knows.

"Honey, it's tough. I know. It was hard on both me and you in those long, unsure hours at the hospital. As well as everybody else involved in the circus," she tells him. "And because you saw it happen and I didn't, I really don't know everything else you're feeling right now. But" —she moves closer to him, placing a hand on his bicep— "I do know that, despite not having her and W.D. and Phillip along with you on the tour, it was still an amazing turnout." P.T. smiles weakly.

"Everybody's hurting," she continues, "even people you don't know personally. It's gonna take awhile to fill the void, but you know how it starts?" P.T. meets her eyes. "By letting it out. Either by vocalizing it or by writing it down."

He doesn't say anything for a long while. He's fighting back the tears, picking at the skin around his nails until he pulls a little too hard and it begins to bleed. When this happens, he sighs, turning back to Charity.

"Page 42 is gonna be the death of me," he says, forcing a small laugh at the end. Trying to make light of this solemn situation.

Charity just smiles. "No, page 42 is gonna be the start of Mr. Phineas Taylor Barnum finally letting out that breath he's been holding in for three long years now."

And P.T. smiles. For real this time.