Split

Chapter 4 - Split

A large, beaten up wooden table surrounded by mismatched crockery and various sized chairs stands in the middle of the room. All of the circus performers eat, seated around it while babbling noisily about whatnot. The static of a small radio fills all the empty silence that stands through the chatter.

"Kimberly, get that little beast out of here!" shouts Alexandre, finally out of his tailored ringmaster's outfit and in a comfortable set of worn-out jeans and a monstrous brown t-shirt. 

Kimberly, who stays in her sparkling lion tamers outfit for hours after her performance, tiptoes over someone's foot and chases Timothy, who is a tiger, around the kitchen and pushes his small furry face up with her index fingers.

"Oh, Mr. Bisset, please don't call him a beast, you know how much it hurts his feelings when you do so." Kimberly wails, scratching Timothy behind the ears and pressing her nose to his.

Timothy yawns and pats Kimberly on the cheek with a paw.

A typical dinner in my life.

Alexandre sighs heavily and drops Timothy a strip of steak, tickling him under the chin.

Will and my brother, Ashton, scoot their chairs over to Alexandre and tap him repeatedly on the shoulder. It happens every single day, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and whenever else they can find a time to bug Mr. Bisset about the same thing.

"No," Alexandre says before Will and Ashton can even say anything.

"But--"

"I said no," he repeats. "Look, it's not like I'm making you two kiss girls. I just cannot combine both of your acts into one, it'll look like havoc and it'll be a load of a hectic mess, absolutely unorganized."

"But you let Jason do his act with Amber!" Will protests, pointing a finger at me.

If there is one thing I've learned about living in a circus, it is that no one ever grows up unless they want to.

I roll my eyes and resume my conversation with Robin.

Alexandre sets his cup down. "Jason and Amber both have corresponding acts, are not a couple and---"

"Well, you certainly aim to make them seem like a couple on stage," Ashton mutters sullenly, pulling out his phone and waving a shaky video of our performance in Mr. Bisset's face, which has an expression that looks to have Oh, for the love of the lord scrawled across its every clean-shaven surface.

"Right, but you know why I can't have you two represented as a cou--" He starts.

"Why, 'cuz we're gay?" Will spits sourly. 

And here we go.

Alexandre pushes his chair back and stands up. "Will you please let me finish my--" 

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me, Bisset, and sit your ass back down before it gets a hell of a whopping!" Ashton reprimands. 

Alexandre's eye twitches twice before he sinks back into his chair, head held helplessly in his hands as Ashton and Will chew him out for their rights as human beings and everything else in between. 

Around 3 minutes into it, he lifts his head to a knock at the door and jumps to his feet, hurrying over to the source of the noise. "Boys, quiet," he orders curtly. "And good Lord, Kimberly, please get Timothy out of the dining room!"

We do as we're told.

Mr. Bisset walks up to the door and opens it with a flourish, giving whoever's outside an obedient little "Hello, how may I help y--"