The Failed Audition (Circus Is Family #1)

by Krista Ritchie

“If I don’t train you,” he says each word like it’s uniquely important, “you will fail, Thora. You’re not good enough. I can’t put it more plainly than that. I’m sorry.”

“Why help me?” I ask softly. I expect him to say, I don’t have an answer. “I admire your courage. I know what you’ve given up to be here. I know the kind of artist it takes to land a role. I know that you won’t receive one on your own. And I imagine you, myshka, two years from now, working at Phantom with the same aspirations, the same dreams, in the same place where you are now. It’s wasted courage. And wasted love. You shouldn’t have to waste those things.”

I’m speechless. And overwhelmed. When someone reaches out and gives you a hand—for no other reason than to see your success—it’s powerful. And rare.

He wipes beneath my eye with his thumb. “I’d rather feed your hunger than watch you starve, and y...

I only caught: …again… I’ve asked it multiple times? I’m the sloppy drunk. And judging by his roaming hands, he’s the flirty one. It’s everything I imagined in life.

He’s thinking about sex. I’m thinking about sex. We’re all thinking about sex here.

“Those eyes…” I point a finger at him, my breath shallow. “…are bad.” His lips rise. And all I hear from his response is myshka.

“You’re touching me.” “I’ve touched you before,” he says huskily. Truths. Lots of truths tonight.

“The devil is…very, very…hot.” I wonder if that went smoothly or not. Probably not.

“I’m floating,” I whisper. Or spinning. “Close your eyes, myshka,” he breathes in a soothing, deep tone.

“What does that mean?” I ask softly. “Myshka?” His eyes search mine, hypnotic, soulful. Ones that tether me here, to him. And his lips close over my cheek before drifting to my ear. “Little mouse.”

Melodic, sweet sounds fill the cavernous gym, the main speakers playing a familiar song that simultaneously soothes and quickens my pulse. I recognize it as “One Day I’ll Fly Away” from Moulin Rouge.

yesssss good choice

“You…want to help me feel passion?” “I want to help you express passion. I’m sure you feel it. You’re here, aren’t you?” It’s strange how one person can see the hidden parts of you in a short amount of time that others don’t even understand in years.

Being high, in the air, frees me completely. The slight prick of fear heightens my adrenaline, setting a fire beneath me.

Who can explain the drum of their heart or the burst of their lungs? Give me that person. I need them because words fail my senses.

“If I fall, he’s my safety net,” I explain to Nikolai. Shay will be the one to pick up the pieces. That’s why he wants me to come home now. He cups my face, his hand coarse, masculine. And strong. “Thora, he doesn’t even want to give you the chance to fall. That’s not a safety net, it’s a harness.”

Luka slips in and shuts it. “Hey, Kat.” He reaches into his pocket and reveals three packs of Skittles. His pockets must be huge, is my first random, unhelpful thought.

He tosses her the candy, and she gleefully gathers them in a pile. “Don’t tell Nik,” he says. I wonder if he stole them. “And don’t get another cavity. He’ll blame me.” She gives him a look. “Like I can help that.” “Chew slower,” he refutes. I try not to laugh. There’s no way the pace you eat stops a cavity from forming, but it’s kind of cute that he’d suggest it to his little sister.

She’s trying to find herself. Some days I still wonder if I’ve found me. Maybe we never stop searching. Maybe we evolve the way seasons change, seamlessly without really knowing, not until all the leaves have fallen. This is who I am today. Tomorrow I may be the same. But in years, I’ll be someone else. Someone I may like more. Someone I may like less. And that’s okay. Because I’m still living.

“Wait,” Timo cuts in with a confused look. “You don’t sleep in Nik’s bed?” What is with everyone and this? I’m not abnormal. “I…” I trail off as his frown deepens. “Do you not like him or something?” He scratches the back of his head, more downtrodden than usual.

He says directions to her, not audible from where I stand. Then she lies over his lap, hiking up the bottom of her dress to reveal her ass.

OH HELL NO

In a millisecond, the girl goes from clutching his biceps. To leaning in. Her lips are on his. And he grips the back of her head, reciprocating the single kiss.

OH. HELL. NO.

He’s already scanning the room with a charming smile, searching for his next volunteer. Hands shoot all around me. Timo squeezes my shoulder again and then he shouts something in Russian. His voice overpowers the music and causes Nikolai to rotate towards us. His eyes stop dead on me. And that smile fades in an instant.

👅👅👅

“Easy, Thora James!” Timo shouts over the music. When I look at him, his eyes beam like he’s having the time of his life. In the prime of his youth. And it lightens my weighted body, immeasurably. It’s ordinary when you’re simply happy. It’s remarkable when you can make others feel what you do. “Don’t stare into his eyes!” John shouts to me. “Little parts of you will die inside!”

John seems highly unamused. “She’s not my type! While her ambitions are slightly endearing, they’re mostly delusional! But that’s not even the problem.” I did catch that compliment in there. I mean, this could be worse. Right? “What’s the problem?” Nikolai asks, opening the floodgates. “She has a vagina!” The music switched songs right when he screamed that. It came out so much louder than it should have.

Nikolai kisses my cheek, my forehead, as though I’m precious enough for more than just the thrill. He gives me the unhurried, measured moments, the kisses that seem to ache more.

“You’re cute,” he tells me. “I thought my actions said enough.” He likes me. “There is…something between us then?” I wonder. I haven’t been fantasizing about the tension. It hasn’t been one-sided. It’s just been ignored. He stares so deeply into me. “There is definitely something, my demon.”

“I’ve been hesitating because I don’t want to step in the way of your dreams.” I try not to fear that. I understand my goals. But—I don’t like looking at the bad things before they happen. It’s not worth it.

He’s saying that he wants me. I can see it. I can feel it. My eyes burn at the unspoken proclamation. In a whisper, he says, “And I’ll still train you.” The next kiss is so soulful that I feel the promise within it: to never stand in the way of my dreams.

“You’re complicated?” I ask, eyeing the red glow necklace. He stiffens. “My past relationship is. I haven’t been looking for anything recently, and I didn’t even look for you.” He pauses. “This was unintentional.” It became something more without noticing. Without realizing. “Am I a mistake—” “No, myshka. You’re just the unexpected, beautiful thing in my life.”

“Are…you also okay with slow?” His lips rise like it’s funny. “It’s not—” “It’s cute,” he says again, this time laughing. “Slow is cute, and I’d go slow for you.”

I never thought there would be more paths to choose. I came here thinking I’d already picked my course. The dark, mysterious one—filled with potholes and faraway dreams. I’ve found that life is a series of crossroads, dead-ends and U-turns. There is no real destination. There is no goal to end all goals. As long as we’re living, we’ll always keep driving.

It feels like we had aerial sex. Aerial sex. Now I’m thinking about that—the real act of it. Dear God in heaven. Is that even a thing? Do people do that?

y’all should definitely do that 🤩

with my stomach tossing, my muscles constricting, my heart speeding—there is no reprieve when you’re falling for a guy. It’s the worst and best carnival ride.

I can’t stop thinking about our size difference. “We’re not going to fit together,” I say aloud. He cups my face to look at me. By his strong, unshaven jaw, I’m deeply aware of his age again. “Physically or metaphorically?” he asks with raised brows.

“Physically,” he answers off my expression. “I’ll be able to fit deep inside you. And when I do, you’re going to be entirely full of me.”

“What do you see when you look at me?” I ask in a whisper. He’s quiet for a moment, soaking in my features. And his expression only floods with more and more intensity, the kind that says I am attracted to you on many, many levels. It shallows my breath. “I can’t describe my demon,” he tells me with rising lips. “I just feel her.”

“I admire you.” “That’s funny,” I say, “because I admire you.” He tries to hide a smile. “Why is that?” “You raised your siblings. You realize that, right?” He lets out a short laugh. “Not well enough.”

“Katya is sweet and friendly.” I think about his brother, the one who offered me mints and stole Skittles for his little sister. “Luka is generous and kind.” And Timo—magnetic. There are no just words to define him. I smile, staring off. “And Timo is…captivating, more full of life than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“When people first meet my siblings, they see the worst in them.” Lines crease his forehead. “Katya is too naïve. Luka is too irresponsible. And Timo is…” He shakes his head. “Timo is chaos.” “That’s rude,” I state. He laughs into a bigger smile. “Where did you come from?”

“I think the same thing about you, you know.” He’s given me so much in a short amount of time. Determination, motivation. I am overflowing with better, brighter sentiments. “According to you, I came from hell.” There is light behind his gunmetal eyes.

“We’re not going to fit together.” “We are,” he says lowly. “In all ways.”

“So…” His dark brows tic up. I frown. “So…?” I repeat. “How do you two even work?” His face is still in that grimace. “Are you always on top?” “John,” I say, wide-eyed.

“And to clear things up, Nik and I haven’t actually…had sex yet.” But we’ve done other things. John chokes on his beer. His brows jump. “It’s that difficult?” Dear God. “No…it’s not because of our height and size difference.”

“You’re a virgin.” The look on his face—you’d think this was the best piece of gossip John’s heard all year. “No,” I say slowly, dragging out the word. “It’s possible for two people to go at a slow pace.” It’s not weird. Right? Every relationship has a different timeline. “You’ve been in Vegas for almost four months, and you see the guy every single day.” “Those are some facts, yep,” I nod.

He gives me a weird look. “It’s decided. You’re my strangest friend.” I burst into a smile. “You called me your friend.” He rolls his eyes. “A figure of speech. I have no friends.” “Camila is definitely your friend,” I note. “Camila is my cousin. We’re forced to be somewhat cordial.” “Right,” I laugh. If I had to label their relationship, it’d be best friends.

“You know, she’s the one who told me to pry into your sex life. I’m supposed to get free shots out of it.” “Well, you can tell Camila that you’ve successfully earned your shots.” His face contorts into a sour expression. “I do...

I think I’m scowling harder. But he doesn’t shrink back. I’m sure staring in the mirror has made him accu...

I know how this looks to Shay, someone thousands of miles across the country. Girl moves to Vegas to follow her dreams. Girl gets trained by Guy. Girl falls for Guy. Girl forgets about her dreams in favor of love. But I moved to Vegas to join Aerial Ethereal. Nikolai is helping me do just that, and he’d rather me succeed than start a relationship. Circus or a man. I’m choosing the circus. Now. And forever. And if I forget, Nikolai promised he’d remind me.

“I’m not a fortuneteller. Those who award themselves the title either have a penchant for trite metaphors or are liars. If I’m going to lie about something, it’s not going to be about projecting an inconceivable future. To be honest, that’s too stupid for people like me.” On the television screen, Connor Cobalt presses his fingers to his jaw in conceited contemplation, his Rolex watch glitzy on his wrist.