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“Shall we? Some guests are already here. More will be arriving shortly.” His mask is already in place. He’s helping me tie mine on.
“Evan.” My voice comes out strangled. Panicked.
“What’s wrong?” He pulls me toward one of the columns, out of the walkway.
“I–I can’t do this. I’m too nervous.” It started low in my stomach, rising and making it hard to catch my breath.
“Just breathe, Hellena. You’ll be fine.”
“This is too much.” Everything is narrowing. What was I thinking?
Evan pulls me in, resting his palms against my cheeks. “This is natural. Even I get nerves before a show.”
“I—”
“Shh. Focus on me. Listen to my voice.” Anyone else would think him unkind, cold. But I hear the subtle shift in his tone, commanding, with a hint of worry. “You know, I used to be just like you. Fury and anger were the only ways I knew how to express my passion on stage.”
My body unwinds a fraction at his words.
“Passion has always been a double-edged sword for me. It led me into gymnastics, then dance, aerial, daring stunts on the wire. That same passion easily morphed into rage when confronted or teased for being in a “girl’s sport”. Those boys got the beating of a lifetime. They gave me one in return.
“Later, that streak of recklessness led to motorcycles, insane dares. Drunken races. But before that, it got me sent away from home. To boarding school. It’s also what got me expelled.” At this, he actually laughs, soft and nostalgic. But sad.
My shoulders loosen, his hands sliding down, thumbs massaging my neck.
“The same wild aggression got me kicked out of the first troupe that I met on the road when I ran away from home. I was sick of the constraints of my mother’s rules and my stepmother’s scathing tongue.
“As ridiculous as it sounds, I truly ran away to join the circus.”
I feel my tummy quiver with a gentle chuckle and with the pins and needles from hearing more. This is the first time he’s ever told me anything about his life.
“Even then, the violent creature in me would not be subdued. I didn’t know how. Everything I tried, I was good at. But foolish. Angry. Careless. The same went for my lovers.
“My heart raged for love, male and female both, burning blistering and bright and smothering the affection just as quickly, forcing me to flee, to move on to the next explosion of emotion and intense spiritual investment. I shattered myself over and over.”
Evan’s eyes drift, far away, lost in the story. It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen him.
“I hit rock bottom. Lost everything. Just like one of our clients, desperate and terrified.”
“And the Sinful were there to offer you a way out.”
“It’s what they’ve always done. Desperate, out of control people want to be manipulated and coaxed with promises to relieve every one of their worries. It takes away their responsibility in their own misfortune.
“Take away their fears. Eliminate their lack of control, give them a sense of purpose without giving them the control, and you own them. I gave mine away all too easily, but it saved my life. Taught me to control myself. Forced me to.”
“That’s why you can’t let go,” I mutter, tracing my fingers around his eyebrows, exploring his face. “You can’t even see that what makes you so powerful is what you think you need to remove.”
The thought slips from me, a thought converted directly to words.
Evan’s brow furrows, looking at me like he’s never seen me before.
“Thank you. I feel better.” I break the spell, noticing the shuttles parked at the steps letting out guests.
“Come on, you haven’t even seen half of it.” He snaps back to the cool façade, the master of the ball. We queue into the line, Evan nodding to the two doormen who let us through without asking for tickets.
Inside, the atrium swoops up into a cavernous dome.
It takes me several seconds to sweep the room, the columns supporting the upper galleries, the alcoves and entertainment strewn throughout. It’s overwhelming. Breathtaking.
