by Piper Rayne
I stand on the twenty-foot wooden platform that I’ll soon plunge from, waiting for the ringmaster to announce the rest of the troupe. Squinting, I’m able to make out the tiny spot of a man I’m sure is Sebastian. Waving, I blow a kiss at him, hoping he catches it. Like the purple glint off my half carat diamond, there are things I’m sure the crowd will miss. Our history is only one.
Surrounded by freaks of every background, talent, and even criminal history, it’s not impossible to believe that this is the one place we are able to be ourselves. Spotting the token damsel in distress, Marlow Winston, who spends most every Sunday afternoon spinning on the Wheel of Death, I chuckle to myself. Wondering what her story is, I can only hope she someday gets the hint. Royal princess or not, I managed to get out.
We won’t be here forever. Sebastian has dreams of his own. Like the pea they all expected me not to know about, I’m also aware that the show always goes on. Someday, I’ll work as a therapist, learning the stories and tales that brought people to their respective circumstances. I’ll hear about princes and princesses whose kingdoms of origin just didn’t work out. I’ll listen with eager ears to the hopes, dreams, and plans of others who’ve finally had the courage to make their ways in the world all their own. I’ll be like my mother – queen of my own world and the stuff of legends.
“And now, with no further introductions, I give you the Flying Moons!”
It’s my cue. And without forcing anything at all, I spread my translucent wings and fly wide and proud above the entire tented stadium. I am home. Gone are the cuts, the sins of Mom, the stocks, and even the atrium. It’s my time now. It’s time to give them all the world’s greatest show!
One year later
* * *
Weeks before the less-than-royal wedding for Darian & Sebastian
* * *
I could never go forward without first going back. I knew enough from the mandatory monsters and freaks therapy sessions, where I’d become something of a counselling carnie surrogate, that the only way to move forward was to face the past. While I didn’t need my father to walk me down the aisle, I had to at least make peace with my sister. She would have been my matron of honor…
Back in Peabody, no longer known as fairyland
* * *
I can’t say I’m surprised when Lily tells me she’s miserable with Zane. What is surprising, though, is that it almost feels as if she’s fishing to leave Peabody. She won’t come outright and say it. Lily has never been great at admitting when she’s wrong. But after two hours in the palace garden playing catch up, something’s surely off.
“…I don’t know,” she says, adjusting herself so her wings are hidden. “I’ll figure something out. Thanks for listening.”
I consider telling her I get paid to listen twice a week. I’m curious about what my half-sister would say about my chosen, outside world profession as not only a circus star but also a quasi-monster therapy assistant. I feel like Finley, stuck in between skin shifts and not quite sure what to think of it. Before coming to the forest, I hadn’t realized how strange it would be to return in the light of day again, where I can’t really hide. But I don’t trust Lily. It’s impossible to forget the things she did to me and why I left the kingdom in the first place. She hasn’t earned the right to know about my new life.
I run through the stages of differentiation: self-awareness, connectedness, and boundaries that I spend so much time reading about on the road. I have all these things. Maybe the past is not something I need to tangle with. But it occurs to me that what’s missing is that connectedness. While I have it with Sebastian, Lusus, and the circus monsters, I don’t have it with my family of origin. If I can find a way to get that back without losing my self-created identity and while holding my boundaries between the realms, things will be different. At the same time, I can help set an example for Lily.
“I like listening. It’s what helped me to know and understand Sebastian. It’s how I manage with the humans.”
Lily laughs. “Oh. Your little man. Are you still with him?”
I nod. I refuse to let her rip on him ever again. Raising my eyebrow, I take a chance, “Yes. Twelve fairy years now and no looking back. He’s my everything.” I don’t bring up our fairytale themed wedding. She’d laugh at such a thing.
Instead of picking on me or the stranger she once tried to have killed, she smiles. “I’m glad for you. I wish things were like that for me and Zane.”
I feel horrible for her. Her fate could easily have been my own. “Yes, but you have the kingdoms. Love isn’t everything.”
“I suppose.”
“You know, you could leave.”
She shakes her head from side to side. Then, picking at her large, translucent wing, she tells me she’s made her decision.
“You’re self-aware,” I say, forgetting my place. “That’s a great thing. I mean, you know where you are and have made a decision. That’s basically the first step in being happy.”
It occurs to me that I’m not entirely wrong. It might even be possible that in my sister’s maturity, she’s found some sense of happiness—even if it doesn’t include Zane. In being the first in line fairyland heir now, she has achieved something she’s always craved. Maybe, now, where I’m not a threat, she doesn’t hate me.
Lily and I spend the next hour or so playing more catch up. Not once does she slam me or even complain more about Zane. Instead, she tells me our father will soon turn over the reins and that there’s been a heap of restructuring with the kingdom. I do my best to act interested, even when she fills me in about Piper and Bella’s marriages, never dropping eye contact and nodding in all the appropriate places. I remind myself not to bring up Simon. I can’t let her know I know of his fate. I do all these things, but my mind drifts back to the circus monsters.
Things change. People change. And everything happens for a reason. These aren’t exactly things we learned in online therapy school; something Truly insisted I sign up for so we have a plan when we finally leave the road. They’re just universal lessons any species or breed is bound to know. In some way or another, we are all connected. And, as Lily talks about Peabody, I realize the same has happened with Lusus Naturae Circus. For as silly and zany as my new gang of carnie creepers are, they are no different than me. And, the Freaks Matter Too movements are quite the parallel to Lily taking over the kingdom. It’s Lily’s turn now…
For the first time since leaving home, I know exactly what to do. I can have my happy ending in both the human and fairy worlds. Best part? I’m the one saving myself and will never again be a damsel like the kind you read about. History aside, if she wants, Lily can have that too.
Part III
The happy ending, after the curse and into the future
An average day in the life of Morgan H. Flutterby, life coach, former fairy princess, damsel and circus freak
Status: Fully integrated into the human world
* * *
“Everyone, settle down! We can’t be making introductions until the yammering stops. Don’t give our new friend a bad impression,” I say, trying not to roll my eyes. Pulling my wings tight to my back and wishing my hoodie wasn’t so loose, I smile at the group as my clients—monsters and circus freaks—take their seats.
After a fairy year of the same old midnight group therapy, it never fails to fascinate me how much seating reveals. Like Esmerelda’s fortune ball or even tarot cards, where my monsters land is always step one on my compass to treatment plans.
Jasmyn, the new girl, of course, plops in the only empty seat by me. I wonder how long it will last and what Mason—our resident, socially awkward ghost—thinks of that. Mason, who still hasn’t had the courage to appear to us as a group, will later gripe to me about being sat on. They’ve become as predictable to me as my own quirks and mannerisms—things I’ve learned to hide from them only to keep the group moving before the questions come flooding in about the circus. My wings, while I’m no longer ashamed of them,
can sometimes be a distraction.
Still standing, I extend my hand to Jasmyn, who drops her own from her mouth to shake it. Her grip tells me nothing—not too limp, not too firm. “Welcome to Coming Out Monster,” I say, pulling my hand back and taking my seat.
I spend the next ten minutes acclimating our newest group member to the dynamics. Running through the basic rules—treating others with respect, only offering feedback when asked, etcetera—I can’t help but wonder what her problem is. Normally, I can pick it up immediately. If I had to guess, she’s a vampire. The way she carries herself, how she has not once parted her lips, and the tightness of her skin tell me this. But I don’t ask. It will come out when she’s ready. Rule 48. Hell, not much different than it is for the carnies either. Everyone has a right to their secrets.
“Okay, with that out of the way, who’d like to check-in first today? Brenda? Any luck with the curse?”
Witchy Brenda, who never speaks first and has been working on her confidence, smiles shyly. It’s hard not to think of what Regina would say about her. She’d die.
“Um. Okay. I guess,” she says. “I can go first, I mean. Not the curse. The curse is going horribly. I can’t seem to get it. And it’s not memorizing it. It’s the whole concept of—”
The thoughts won’t stop: My God, Regina would have a field day with her. I wonder if she’d be willing to help… Sebastian would flip the hell out. Merging not two but three realms? Maybe not. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Joe sliding out of his chair. If I don’t stop him, he’ll be on Jasmyn like a dog in heat—literally—before she’s had a chance to speak two words.
“Joe! No! Don’t do it. We’re working on that!”
“Yeah, you promised!” Reece says, glaring.
Joe, our resident co-dependent, dual axis diagnoses werewolf, who’s been here the longest, has never made it more than twenty minutes through a session without humping. A worse sex addict than our one regular visible ghost with a toy obsession, he makes me want to quit my second job weekly.
“Fine,” he pouts, crossing his hands over his chest and moving back up in his chair. “Fifteen minutes. You said the goal is twenty-five.”
“Thirty,” I say, “An extra five for almost slipping. You said you respond best to cognitive behavioral, not that I’ve seen it yet. Besides, we have a new visitor today. Be good.”
Sometimes, it’s more like babysitting than anything else. I look over at Jasmyn whose eyebrows are raised and can’t seem to stop looking at the clock. “He’s fine. He’s a werewolf. He humps things. It’s a problem,” I say, as if it doesn’t sound entirely crazy.
“Jasmyn, what are you?” Brenda asks, the first to take any opportunity to get the subject off herself.
“You were going to tell us about the curse,” I say, redirecting.
But Jasmyn answers as quickly. “A vampire. A horrible one. I’m afraid of blood.”
Christ. It’s gonna be a long night. I wonder what Sebastian’s up to.
Finley—our resident shape shifter and today, feline—raises her paw, nearly jumping out of her seat and yelling, “Oh! You’re like Brenda! Brenda’s afraid to curse! And not just swear. She can’t cast a spell either. She’s totally useless!”
“Finley! Words. We talked about this. Words matter! Be careful what you say. Brenda is not useless. Joe, give me another word Finley could have used instead,” I plead, remembering Finley back in her days at the Lusus Naturae show.
“Sexy. Brenda is sexy,” Joe spits back. Then, he growls.
Fuck my life. I shake my head. While he’s generally articulate, once he gets a humping craving, well, he’s impossible to deal with.
“Brenda is struggling might have been a better word for this context. Experiencing challenges, having a hard time with, working toward being able to—any of those would be nicer than ‘useless,’ don’t you think?”
Finley glares at me. Her cat eyes turn a full shade of yellow, brighter than the sun as I tell my wings to chill out. The bitch looks rabid. If I don’t keep control, I’ll be flying over the entire room to knock her out. Fae can be vicious, and I am a retired royal fairy princess—not that anyone knows. “I stand by my word,” Finley says. “Useless. Brenda is totally useless at what she does.”
“Brenda? How does it make you feel to hear that word in reference to your inability to curse?”
“She’s right,” Brenda says, sighing. “I am useless. I’m the worst witch in the world. I’m letting my entire coven down!”
“Yes! Me too,” Jasmyn says. “I can’t even feed without a sippy cup for God’s sake! What kind of vampire is that? I’d have been better off as a ghost or something. The blood thing just isn’t going to work. Even as a human, I refused to go to the doctor because I was so freaked out by blood.”
Tibby nods, but I can’t acknowledge her and her melting skin.
“Don’t do it,” I hiss under my breath as Joe inches his way, legs splayed, closer to Jasmyn. “Thirty minutes. Not a second sooner. And even then, we’re striving to be better. If you need to leave, you can excuse yourself.”
“Feed?” Brenda asks. “What does that mean?”
I nearly miss the entire therapeutic alliance forming between our pathetic witch and newest phobic member as Joe flips me the bird. Ignoring him, I turn toward Brenda, waiting for Jasmyn to answer. Next week, they will be sitting next to each other. I can bet on it. Anyone could.
“She means kill people by sucking their blood,” Tibby Johnson, our vegan zombie says, frowning. “Don’t they have another source? The vampires, I mean?”
Tibby is looking at me but the entire point of group therapy at Coming Out Monster is to get the members comfortable with working together. Since the Freak Lives Matter too movement, we’ve even been able to secure federal funding—as long as we stick to the billable mandates. I refuse to lose funding. Every one of them has a place in the show if they can just pull it together. I promised it to Lusus. It’s what will save the carnival. Hell, it’s my purpose.
I turn to Jasmyn. “You can answer that or not, but you should know that Tibby is a vegan. It’s not personal.”
Instead of biting Tibby’s decaying throat, Jasmyn smiles at her too. I can see the problem. For a vampire, she’s pretty darn likable, and I can’t fathom her doing anyone harm. Tibby will be sitting on the other side of her too.
“Trust me, if I could be a vegan, I’d do that too. I’d live off carrots and radishes. Lemons too.”
“Not me,” Joe mutters. “I like meat.”
“Raw diets are the best,” Tibby says.
“Oh, and yes. On that, we agree,” Joe smiles and licks his lips.
“She was talking to the vamp. Don’t be rude,” Brenda says. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to feed. Sounds gross to me.”
“Brenda, say ‘shit.’ Or say ‘fuck.’ Or ‘ass.’ I dare you,” Joe says. “It’ll be like, what’s that shit called, Morgan? The kind of therapy where you have to do it in order to face it?”
“Exposure therapy.”
“Yeah, that. Say ‘shit.’ If you can say it, maybe it will help you with cursing in general. Ya know, that witchy bullshit. Even Lusus would get behind it.”
Brenda brings her hand to her mouth like she’s about to burst into tears at any moment. But Joe has a point. Exposure therapy is not a thing I’d thought of before in treating our wholesome witch. While I can’t egg him on and tell her to do it, I also know my silence speaks volumes.
“Why does she have to swear?” Jasmyn asks.
It’s an innocent question and totally fair. But from inches away, I hear Mason sigh. I want to tell him that if he’s so bored, he can leave any time. It’s not that I don’t love my job. In many ways, I do. The therapeutic breakthroughs where the universe is right and monsters leave our weekly meetings to do what they were meant to do are satisfying as hell. But the constant drama and petty shit gets old. Maybe Mason has a point. I quickly find myself sighing too as Joe takes over the group. I�
��ve learned that some curses just can’t be broken. And that’s okay too.
Later, I smile at Sebastian as he asks me about my shift. There’s something nice about coming home to a man who’s been with you from the very beginning, or fairyland anyway. “It could have been worse. I could be in Peabody.”
“Well, there’s always that,” Sebastian laughs.
I laugh too. For as much as they drive me crazy, I wouldn’t trade my freaky clients for anything. Like my tiny man, who’s not so miniscule these days, my flight out of fairyland and into reality has taught me so many things; mostly that it’s really not about the happy ending. It’s about the journey. And with Sebastian by my side? Well, hell, we can do anything. Regina’s curse—now known in both lands as Darian’s—has been lifted. And it’s the one and only thing she said that was really ever true: “Love is a powerful thing.” With love, even an ordinary human being can do all the impossible things. I close my eyes and wish that for her and every single one of the freaks too.
Sebastian
* * *
I lay in bed, glad for only one mattress. For years, Darian made us sleep with two, keeping her connected to her kingdom. With a raw pea under it for good luck, I’m glad I’m not of royal blood and can’t feel it. In spite of the damage it does to her wings, my love believes you can never forget your roots. I can’t say I blame her for that. From a messed-up kingdom, to the circus and back, Darian sure has a lot of history. But I do too. Back on the road travelling both with the circus and between the realms, these days are mostly spent helping Darian life coach the freaks. They aren’t so bad. For the most part, they just need someone to do the listening. They have stories too and every one of them is really just hoping for that happy ending.
