𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑⁰¹ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ✓

³⁹welcome to the circus

clementine

"This is batshit crazy, Clem," Mara hisses to me, her hand grasping my forearm harshly as we made our way through the crowd mostly made up of women no older than thirty.

I can't lie and say that my heart is totally calm right now, because amongst these bodies of strangers, the excitement clear in the air, and the people's skin seemingly glowing with anticipation - I'm sure nobody is calm.

I managed to get out of work early, so at around six, I was back home and getting ready to go back out while Mara freaked out over every tiny detail about where we were going.

But by the time six-thirty came, we had managed to get ourselves together and piled into a cab, my knee jittering up and down as we neared our destination by the second.

When we finally got in the theatre, it felt as though the normally wide spaces of the halls and rooms had suddenly shrunk.

With so much people around, everything feels smaller, closer, and almost claustrophobic.

There were girls squealing about finally being there after so long, some complaining about their crap camera quality, and others just having broken down on the carpeted floor as someone unsuccessfully consoled them back to sanity.

Saying this is a circus is an understatement.

As seven ticks nearer, I can't help but start to feel what those girls felt. My insides feel all jumbled up, my brain scattered all over the place, and my heart as though it's beating a thousand beats a minute.

As security escorts Mara and I through the crowd, I notice eyes following us, confusion and curiosity merged into one look from each pair of eyes set on us.

I know what they're thinking, who are these girls? What's so special about them that they get a backstage show?

Quite honestly, I'm thinking the same.

Undoubtedly, they'll talk, so I try my best to face away, shielding my face with Mara's profile as we walk past them and into a hallway where even more security wait.

"Mara, I'm scared," I whisper as we make our way further from the crowded hallway and into a darker one, multi-coloured wires running on the corner, sneaker tracks staining the floor.

Mara scoffs. "No shit. We're either going backstage or going to get assassinated," She remarks quietly, looking around cautiously at the four bulky guards surrounding us, straight-faced and focused on their job as us two, much smaller, girls walk in between them. "Enough security for both,"

I nudge her shoulder and hold back a laugh. "Assassinated? Please, like we matter enough," I roll my eyes and Mara fakes an offended gasp.

"I'll have you know, I'm very impo - " Mara starts but is cut off once one of the security guards puts a hand in front of us, palm wide open, pointed to my side.

"This way," He advises and we follow, walking to a brighter hallway with people walking around, talking through headphones, urgency apparent through their voices.

I reach down to the backstage pass hung around my neck, fiddling with the little card as we make our way nearer and nearer to what I can recognise as the side of the stage.

Wires accumulated beside large machines with buttons and dials on it, acoustic and electric guitars standing on their racks just beside them.

I step forward nearer the stage and take a peek at outside, eyes growing larger as I see the space in front of the stage being filled by people.