A mistreated Circus performer named (Y/N) runs away and stumbles upon an enchanted castle with talking teapots, candles, clocks and a beast. What happens when her cruel master finds her again? Does she stay with her new friends or does she go back t...
My name is (Y/N). I have no last name, no mother, father or a proper life. I'm a clown/circus performer in a travelling circus. I've been here for as long as I can remember and it's been torture. We are all treated terribly here. We're all beaten, starved and, sometimes, dehydrated and don't get me started on our clothes. Mine, for example, when I'm performing I wear ripped up trousers, black boots, a black and white striped skirt, a dark red ringmaster tailcoat with black and white frilly stripes and the same design on the ends of the sleeves. I also wear a small top hat and I wear dark purple and dark pink makeup with a dark pink and black smile.
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When I'm not performing, however, I wear a light grey baggy shirt with a grey waistcoat, grey trousers, a dark grey coat that hugs my bony figure and I wear a (F/C) bandana around my neck. Since I haven't cut my hair in years it is very long. When I perform, I have it down. When I'm not, I have it tied up three times in the same ponytail. (A/N: something like this)
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My master lives the life of luxury. While we do all the hard work, he just eats, drinks and is just plain lazy. I've had no proper education. I can't read, write, count or anything. All I know how to do is trapeze, magic, illusions, dance, sing and, occasionally, steal. Another thing I don't know is my age and birthday. Anyway, right now we were travelling to a field in Paris to set up our circus tent to perform for a few months.
'I've learned to slam on the break before I even turn the key before I make the mistake before I lead with the worst of me. Give them no reason to stare. No slipping up if you slip away. So I got nothing to share. No, I got nothing to say.'
