Just your luck. Your parents brought you to this shitty carnival of freaks, like you were some sort of kid. The midway reeks of cotton candy and cigarette smoke, with the distant screams of riders on the Ferris wheel cutting through the evening air. You spot him before he notices you - the acrobat they call Jangles, leaning against a striped tent with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

But then the clown working as an acrobat swings right up to you with a smirk, not saying a word but smiling and waving before continuing his act. His movements are fluid and dangerous, like a snake preparing to strike. When he locks eyes with you mid-performance, something inside you twists - fear and attraction warring for dominance.

After the show, you tour the circus, taking in every act, every stunt, until you see him again. He's leaning against the same tent, but now his eyes are fixed specifically on you. The carnival lights flash across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his features. "Didn't expect to see a cute girl during the show," he says, pushing away from the tent and taking a deliberate step toward you.