The Failed Audition (Circus Is Family #1)

by Krista Ritchie

Vegas may be a genie, willing to grant wishes, but it’s also a devil in disguise, here to slay our dreams just as quickly.

“Let me break it down for you, Thora. There are three different Aerial Ethereal shows just at The Masquerade.” He counts on his fingers. “Viva, Infini, and Amour. The Kotovas make up over one-third of the cast for each show.”

Timo leans forward, and when he glances my way, with sparkling, dazzled eyes—full of youthful energy—he ropes me in. Lassoing me with charm. Just like his older brother. Nikolai possesses a darker version of it, but it’s a talent that I find myself envying again. It’s something that separates an ordinary person into something captivating. Spellbinding and extraordinary.

“When I was fourteen, my mom took me to the circus…I fell in love with it.”

I wish I could tap into his mind, even for a moment. To see how he sees me. For as much as Nikolai conveys, he’s still a mystery. And I’m the curious girl who’ll step into it. Time and time again.

“Circus is family.”

“Why help me?”

“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.”

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

“I’d rather feed your hunger than watch you starve, and you’re foolish if you say no.”

“What does that mean?” I ask softly. “Myshka?”

“Little mouse.”

I’m still my biggest cheerleader and possibly even my biggest fan.

“When he throws you a lifeline, Thora,” he says, “don’t grab it.”

“Thora, he doesn’t even want to give you the chance to fall. That’s not a safety net, it’s a harness.”

Back in Ohio, I would’ve never thought to crash at a Russian acrobat’s hotel suite—someone with a reputation for being a god and a devil alike. This is all new. One part exhilarating and three parts terrifying.

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.

“There is…something between us then?”

“There is definitely something, my demon.”

“I’ve been hesitating because I don’t want to step in the way of your dreams.”

The next kiss is so soulful that I feel the promise within it: to never stand in the way of my dreams.

“Am I a mistake—” “No, myshka. You’re just the unexpected, beautiful thing in my life.”

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.

“Today you were much stronger than yesterday. And tomorrow you’ll be even stronger. That’s the great thing about practice, myshka, you can only go up.”

“Be graceful. Be lithe and elegant with every move you make. Everything about aerial silk should look seamless.”

He says a few words in deep Russian, and he even kisses my fingers. “What’d you say?” I ask with a growing smile, one I can’t suppress now. The pull between us is mellow, but hot, like magma that slowly rolls down volcanic rock. “I said, you’re very beautiful.”

“What do you see when you look at me?” I ask in a whisper.

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.”

“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.”

“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.

“Who’s your favorite?” I ask her as the show switches to a series of commercials. “Of all the Calloway sisters and their men?” I expect her to say Ryke Meadows or Loren Hale—the two most popular guys of the bunch. One is overly protective, the other in complete I-would-die-for-you love with his childhood friend.

“Easy.” She eats a scoop of ice cream before saying, “Rose Calloway.”

“Rose is always so well-dressed and put-together. And she’s smart.” Katya shrugs. “When she speaks, everyone listens. You know, when the show first aired, I’d often think What Would Rose Calloway Do?” She smiles with the spoon in her mouth.

“What would Rose do in my situation?”

she’d choose to be on her own. Be independent. And try, stubbornly, to succeed without help. Without handouts. But she’d have an advantage in the end. She’s rich. Her family owns Fizzle—one of the largest soda companies.

“Rose doesn’t always do the right thing,” Katya points out. “She makes mistakes too.”

“No. A devil protects his demon.”

“They’re excited—” he watches me absorb my surroundings “—because I’ve never done this with a girlfriend before.” Girlfriend. “I’m your girlfriend?” My smile is an uncontrollable one, where I can’t for the life of me restrain or hide it. He says something in Russian. I don’t have to wait for him to translate. He’s said this phrase so many times. You’re cute.

There are moments that do not belong to us. Lives that we can only see fragments of, and as painful as it is to say goodbye to the whole picture, we’re not supposed to have it anymore.

“Why are you so patient with me?” I whisper. “Because every part of me wants to take care of you.”

But I’m beginning to realize something… We all traverse in and out of people’s worlds, leaving footprints. Some larger, some smaller, but there is always a mark. We can’t sweep it away.

“I made one choice in my life that scared me,” he says, “and it felt much bigger than I was at the time.”

I think I know. When he was twenty. When he took on raising his brothers and sister. I lift my chin up to him.

“They weren’t little kids—Timo, Luka and Katya. They were at the parts of their lives that would affect them, shape who they were. I felt a responsibility to make sure they turned out okay. Every day was hard. Every day is hard. But the things we love...

“The things greater than us, Thora, they’re not impossible. It’s just fear talking, telling you that you can’...

I stare in awe of him, wondering how someone can fill me with so much more than I’ve ever been able to give myself. I was always my number one cheerleader. My number one fan. I think I’ve been replaced. ...

“I’d help you every day so that you could see a better tomorrow. I will never give you less than that.”

I love you. I see those words all over him. I feel them.

Nikolai Kotova is the sum of his brothers and sister. And more. He is selfless, loyal, dedicated and wholly determined—the most responsible twenty-six-year-old, the most mature man. He is power and strength. But most importantly, he is love. And family.

He’s… There are no perfect words for what I feel. For what I see. It’s staring at a Michelangelo painting and being intimate with the subject beneath the brush strokes. It’s falling to your knees and looking up at a god, who belongs to you.