Chapter Text
Salvatore walked through the concrete city, feeling the cold breeze blow in the narrowest pathways. Paper followed the lead of the breeze dancing amongst the ground or in the air, till one of them is caught by the bottom of a foot. Salvatore stared down at it with a frown, before he bent over to pick it off the ground.
There's so much paper flying around today... He thought, thoroughly examining the worn, beaten sheet. "The Freak Circus Of Horrors. Of course it's one of these flyers..." This would not be the first, nor the last promotional flyer he had picked up in that week.
There was a traveling circus in the city, and since they had arrived, the streets had been decorated with flyers promoting it. They had only been there for three days. To Salvatore, if three days was all it took to engulf his entire street, he hoped that the attraction wouldn't overwelcome its stay. At the very least, they could stop putting the flyers all around.
What is it like, anyways? Sal thought again with a sigh. He folded the paper neatly, placing it into one of the pockets of his bag. Maybe I'll check it out if I have the time. I wonder how much the entry fee is. He looked at his watch and decided to take a bit of detour to his work. He may arrive a bit early with his usual route, so he wanted to take a look at this circus that he kept seeing about. Turning down another street, it wasn't long for him to catch sight of the attraction on the other side.
It appeared to have the typical circus entry such as a ticket booth and small entry shops, not yet ready for opening. Behind them, giant colorful tents stood tall, being the most eye-catching of them all. Sal wanted to stare longer in wonder, but when his eyes traveled back to the entry way, he almost held back a scoff. There appeared to be people dressed in pink clown or jester-like suits, with hats jingling away as they passed around... Flyers.
Jeeze, do they need that many? He bit his tongue. Those tents are so big, it should be enough to get attention right? ... I mean, I guess they need to have something to do in the morning if they're closed right now.
Even as these jesters passed flyers to single, passing individuals; some were too careless to hold on to the paper, letting them go as the wind guided it. One had flown right past Sal's shoulder, making his eye twitch with irritation. He turned around, ready to chase after it, but the sound of yelling reeled his attention back.
"Hey! Get out of here, weirdo!" In the corner of his eyes, he sees the movement of a body swinging a punch at another, and the sound of a body hits the ground, leaving more paper to fly about. Sal's blood came to a boil as he made a full turn, taking in the scene.
Right there in the middle of the street, a man stands over another, who appears to be wearing a similar outfit to the jesters in pink, but he was in red. His hat was bigger, his outfit fancier, and his hair was an astonishing white, it could possibly be a wig. The red clown didn't meet the gaze of the man that stood over him. Instead, he kept his head low, his gaze distant. It was as if he entirely removed himself from the scene, mentally.
The aggressor moved closer, now almost directly standing on top of the clown. He screamed louder and pointed, "I'm talking to you, you freak! Get out of town!!" He raised his foot high, but right before he could kick, a strong pull came from the back of his shirt collar, almost choking him.
Sal had used his strength to pull the man back with full force. "What's your deal? This guy is just doing his job!" With his free hand, he shoved the man back, creating further distance between him and the red jester. He then firmly stood in the middle, as if to be another obstacle.
A few passerby stopped, whispering among themselves or recording the altercation with their phone camera. Thankfully, there were other few groups of people who gained confidence in speaking now that Sal had inserted himself.
"Yeah! There was no reason to hit him!"
"You're taking things too far!"
The attacker flinched, looking around with a furious glare. "Wake up you idiots! They're the ones kidnapping people!!"
"Kidnapping?" Sal's body grew tense at the claim, then looked over his shoulder to the clown.
The clown appeared to be looking at him, but when they made eye contact, he flinched and looked to the ground again.
I think there was news that someone had gone missing recently... But such an accusation like that is dangerous. There's little to no proof that points to circus. He returned his gaze to the attacker, and with a loud and firm voice, "They've only been around for a few days. Not even a week! Don't you think your claims are too soon?" He clenched his fist tightly, eyebrows nearly knitting together, "And hey! Even if it is true, how would you know this guy has anything to do with it?! You can't just go around hittin' people because you think they've done bad things!"
"You..!"
"If you keep insisting on hurting him, I'm calling the cops!" The red clown titled his head up slightly, listening carefully to the words of Sal as he stared at his back.
Another person spoke through the crowd, with a rather casual tone, "Stop with that paranoid nonsense. People go missing all the time."
The flame of frustration within Sal was now snuffed out instantly by confusion and concern. His voice grew a bit softer and lowered, "Well Let's not say that like it should be a normal, everyday thing..."
Despite the shift in mood, the man still saw that he was outnumbered and could only spit at the ground with anger, "To hell with all of you!"
Once he left, the crowd dispersed, whispering to themselves about the incident. Soon, it was just Sal and the red clown who remained in their spot. The clown looked at the ground, ready to pick himself up from it, but right before he could, he felt the presence of a hand near his head. He jerked his head back out of habit and instinct, glaring up at whoever was next to stand above him.
"Oh shit- Sorry, did I scare you?"
He froze, eyes wide.
Sal knelt down, meeting his shock with a gentle smile that only lasted for a split second. Slowly, Sal began to gather the flyers on the floor that had fallen out of the clown's hands. "Let me help you with that.." His voice was like a whisper, "Sorry that happened by the way. Some people can just be so stupid, y'know? Or just mean for the sake of being mean."
The silver haired man didn't know how to respond. He couldn't respond. All he did was stare as Sal picked the rest of the flyers up.
Then the unexpected happened. Sal's smaller hands found him, the warmth of it seeping through his gloves. There was no bit of hesitation in the way Sal gripped his hand as he helped him back up, and the clown could feel such warmth spread from his hands to his entire body. They both came to a full stand, and now the man was looking down at the red haired boy, who had to crane his neck to keep his gaze. The man then smiled, but Sal laughed inwardly.
WHOAHOHOHOO... He's tall..! With a cough, he managed, "Are you okay?"
He squeezed Sal's hand slightly, nodding with the bells of his hat jingling.
It didn't seem like he was going to let go, so Sal took his hand away, slowly, staring at the bruise on the man's face. "He hit you hard." He said, now rummaging through his bag. "I don't have anything but this bandaid. Here." He puts it in his hand, "You can have it for other things if you want."
The man's smile widened, and he tilted his head, bells speaking for him.
He's so quiet... "If your face stings and swells, just ice it. But then if your head starts to hurt, then that's when you go see the doctor, alright?" He nods again, and Sal smiles as he waved. "Good. Anyways, I have to go before I'm late. Don't get into any more trouble, okay?"
When he turned around and walked away, the clown stood still, watching his shrinking figure. His then stiff and tall posture slumped over slightly as a tremble overcame his body, trying to stifle in a laugh. "He's like... A bright little apple.." Giant gloved hands clench the small bandaid tightly now, with newfound passion and deadly desire.