Behind the curtains of fame

Late one

The circus tent buzzed with excitement as the show began, its opening marked by a dazzling display of fireworks that painted the sky in brilliant reds, blues, and greens. The air crackled with energy as acrobats, their bodies bending and twisting with an almost supernatural grace, soared through the air in a synchronized dance. Clad in vibrant costumes that shimmered with sequins and bright colors, they performed gravity-defying stunts, creating an atmosphere that felt almost otherworldly.

The performers were everywhere. Jugglers tossed flaming torches into the air, balancing them on their feet as they danced across the stage. A group of contortionists twisted and folded their bodies into shapes that seemed impossible, drawing gasps from the audience with every movement. And in the center, the ringmaster—tall, dark, and commanding—waved his hands with grand gestures, inviting the spectators to witness the magic unfolding before them.

It was a full-blown spectacle—color, movement, and sound all blending into a single, unforgettable moment. The atmosphere was electric, and for a moment, everything felt alive and surreal.

Meanwhile, some little figure came in late, the sixth kid that wanted to see the show, but once this little girl couldn't understand why everything is empty in the circus tent, she stumbled on Announcer, whom greeted her with a smile, when he saw her being lost in the dressing rooms.

Without missing a beat, he lead the little girl to the stage, where they could take a look at other kids watching all the colorful costumes and bright show.

"You're late, miss, but that doesn't mean you don’t belong here, so I should ask the same questions." As Announcer saud that, he gently led the small, fragile girl trought the dressing rooms, making sure she doesn't trip on some abandoned costume that lays on ground.

"What do you want to become, when you grow older?"

Once he asked the same question, the answer was something that wasn’t expected from a small child. "I want to grow up. That's all."

The simplicity of her response surprised him, leaving him momentarily speechless. She wasn’t like the other children who dreamed of becoming performers, or acrobats, or magicians. She didn’t long for fame or grandeur. She simply wanted to grow up. The innocence in her words left an impression on him, and, feeling a strange connection, he asked her name.

"What is your name, miss?"

She looked up at him, her lips curving into a small, delicate smile that melted his heart. "Audrey," she replied softly. "My name is Audrey."

Intrigued by her rare presence and wise beyond her years, the Announcer, still holding her hand, led her closer to the stage, where the performers dazzled the audience. They stood behind the thick velvet curtains that shielded the inner workings of the circus from the public eye, but from here, they could see the entire show unfold.

"Do you know what the funniest part of this show is?" The Announcer’s voice was soft as he leaned down to her level, his gaze still fixed on the stage where actors portrayed monstrous creatures with exaggerated features. Audrey’s eyes followed his, and she, too, watched the spectacle with a mix of fascination and curiosity.

"It's the fact," the Announcer continued, his voice heavy with a dark truth, "that the real monsters—the ones that truly exist in the world—try so hard to create something monstrous to justify their actions. They invent tales, stories, and legends to make themselves look better, to make others believe that their cruelty is justified."

Audrey’s wide, innocent eyes looked up at him, her small brow furrowed as she tried to grasp the depth of his words. The Announcer continued, his voice taking on a darker, more somber tone.

"They will find anything to justify their actions. And by anything I mean even piercing dead bodies with wooden stake, just because they may be a vampire, or burning women at stake, because how dare a woman be smart and normal human being? The stories about it go on and on, but I guess we don't have time for that. Right, little miss?"

"They will find anything to justify their actions. Anything. They’ll even pierce dead bodies with wooden stakes, claiming they may be vampires. Or burn women at the stake, just because they were too smart, too independent, too… human." His words were thick with a painful understanding. "And the stories of such horrors go on and on."

Audrey, still standing behind him, remained silent, her gaze focused on the performance before her. The actors—dressed in grotesque costumes—were contorting their bodies, making horrible faces, and pretending to be monstrous beings, chasing terrified humans across the stage. To the audience, it was a thrilling display of danger and fantasy, but to Audrey, it felt more like a strange and twisted play, one that spoke of something much darker than the circus had intended.

The Announcer’s gaze softened as he looked at her, a hint of sadness creeping into his expression. "But I suppose we don’t have time for that now, do we, little miss?"

Audrey didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she continued to watch the show, her small face thoughtful. She didn’t seem scared, nor did she seem fascinated by the grotesque characters on stage. There was something in her eyes—an understanding, perhaps, of a world that was far more complex than the colorful costumes and tricks before her. Something told the Announcer that Audrey was seeing more than just the performance. She was seeing the truth hidden behind the masks.

"You see the reality, because you don’t thrive to be known. You are present, so that makes you different." Announcer whispered more to himself as he watched Audrey’s expressions at the scene that only she was allowed to see.