XX

It had been three weeks since Barnum had left.

And things hadn't been the same since.

An unexperienced Phillip was thrust forcefully into the spotlight and had to undertake the heavy tasks of inspecting the routines and rehearsals, organising the costumes and back-stage productions and conducting the shows. He had some on-the-side help from Bec who had to direct the audiences to their seats in the arena and take over the advertising with posters and speeches and tickets. Lettie, Charles, Anne, W.D, Deng Yan and their fellow performers did all in their power to assist the two as much as they could but things, in general, were beginning to slide downhill.

A group, who was fiercely against the show and its array of 'oddities', assembled out the front of the museum every night, waving torches and racist signs and screaming and yelling profanities. The first time Anne heard the racket, she glanced out of her bedroom window and her breath caught in her throat. A wave of fear washed over her. Where they really that disgusting and freaky to the people gathered out there? Where they truly a shameful and hideous bunch that society wanted to hide away and have nothing to do with?

Soon after this, Phillip made the rounds, encouraging everyone and building up their strength. Over time, Anne realised that the only reason they could all pull themselves out of bed every morning and take to the arena every day was the fact that they were heavily reliant on each other.

They were like one, big family.

And, for that, she was extremely grateful.

Every evening, after the closure of their last performance, the usual cheers and screams of pleasure were accompanied with the shouts and taunts of the mockers and jeerers.

Every day, Anne had to deal with Phillip's flirtatious remarks, Bec's brooding silence and the humiliating rub-down of her name in the arena.

Every morning, she would wake up in tears, remembering her father, her mother, her Oma.

How had things come to this?

During breakfast one particularly overcast day, a frowning Anne came plodding down the stairs and seated herself at the table in the main room. As W.D passed her the water jug, Phillip, who was seated right across from her, spoke up softly, "Hey, you okay?"

Anne looked up to meet his sparkling blue orbs - ones that were laced with worried concern. Quickly, she tore her gaze away from his and nodded.

"Are you sure?" he breathed.

Anne nibbled nervously on her lower lip and nodded again. "Yes. Please. Can we do this later?"

Reluctantly, Phillip sat back in his seat, knowing that, in a room full of watchful people, it wasn't the best of times to engage in a serious conversation with the girl he adored and admired.

As his eyes trailed across the table, he found himself looking straight into the disappointed glare of Bec who, as usual, had seen the entire exchange. Raising his eyebrows, Phillip brushed him off as he turned away and struck up a cheery conversation with Lettie, who was seated next to him.

Anne, oblivious to the underlying tension between Phillip and Bec, forced herself to down her breakfast, walk into the changing rooms and face the day with an uplifted head and a wide smile.

As she came swinging down from her hoop, that had been hitched to a series of rope looped across the roof, to stand tall amongst her fellow performers, she looked into the burning eyes of her haters before she bowed to the ground in appreciation of her audience.

As the people started to disperse and the performers retreated backstage, Anne was stopped, mid-movement, by Phillip, who had stepped out of the shadows to confront her.

"We need to talk," he stated simply.

Anne furrowed her brow in confusion. "About what?"

"The show," he responded with a sigh. "Barnum just sent me a telegram. He's decided to stay on with Jenny for the duration of her tour which doesn't end for another four weeks."

"Are you serious?" Anne tried to hide her anger and disappointment by bending down to gather up the extra coil of rope used in her trapeze act. "I - I can't believe that he would do this to us."

"I know," Phillip ran a hand through his messy, dark locks. "Everyone comes here, not only to see you guys, but to see him! His crazy ideas. His new surprises. His big vision. And now that he hasn't been visible for a while, people are starting to feel like they're being ripped off or something. We need to up our game but I just don't have the time or the resources to come up with new, interesting acts. I - I'm getting really stressed out. Every day, the protest group gets bigger and bigger. W-what if something happens? What if it ends badly? What if everything that Barnum has worked so hard for crashes down around him? And us? I staked my entire career on this show. To have it all taken away from me...I can't. I can't cope with that."

"Hey!" Anne stopped him by straightening up and seizing his arm. "You're always telling me not to worry and not to give up so I'm going to give a mouthful of your own words back to you. Don't worry. Don't give up. Barnum will come around and when he does, it'll be the best comeback New York has ever seen! But, until then, you're in charge and it's up to you how things play out around here. It's okay to be scared sometimes, Phil, but if you want something bad enough, you'll get it. I know you will."

Phillip's mouth stretched into a small smile as he gazed at the figure of the girl in front of him. "Yes. Yes, you're right. If I want something bad enough, I will get it...even if it takes me years to do so."

Anne's hand dropped to her side when she realised - Phillip wasn't talking about the show anymore, he was talking about her.

Swallowing hard, Anne started to back away from him and a potentially awkward situation when the unthinkable occurred.

A sudden, loud crash sounded throughout the arena and a deep, threatening voice boomed out, "Where's your master, lover-boy? Did he leave you all alone to take care of the rowdy flock of goats you have chained upstairs? How sad."

As volumes of vivacious laughter resounded throughout the room, Anne and Phillip turned to see that their nightly audience had, indeed, left - all, that is, except for the protest group who were now cluttering the front seats of the arena.

"Gentlemen," Phillip addressed them firmly. "We're closed. I think it wise that you all leave."

"Leave?" one of the men scoffed. "This is our town, son. We think that you and your bunch of freaks should leave!"

As noisy yells of agreement rose up among the rowdy, stiff-necked crowd, Anne became aware of movement behind her. Tilting her head back, she saw, to her surprise, that W.D, Bec, Lettie, Charles, O'Clancy and several others were standing inside the arena with her and Phillip.

"What did you just say?" W.D demanded as he glared menacingly at the men in front of them.

"Go on. Say it to our faces!" Lettie sneered.

"Oh, look boys," one of the rabble-rousers yelled out laughingly. "They're asking us for trouble!"

"Then, let's give it to them," a large, burly man growled as he cracked his fingers in anticipation.

Before anyone could do anything to stop them, a few of the protestors darted forth and grabbed Phillip. They threw him to the ground and started punching and kicking him.

Anne's eyes widened in horror and she was just about to lurch forward to help him when someone placed a restraining hand on her waist.

"Charge!" Lettie screeched as she rushed past Anne, the others in tow.

Worriedly, Anne whirled around to see Bec looming protectively over her. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off with, "Get the hell outta here. Hurry."

Not knowing what else to do, Anne swallowed and nodded wordlessly before turning and sprinting out of the arena.

She burst out of the room only to be met with a handful of fierce-looking lads carrying cans of kerosene and a bunch of lighters.

"She's one of them! Grab her!"

Anne desperately tried to escape but it was no use. The boys pinned her down and dragged her, kicking and yelling, back into the arena.

"Let's teach these freaks a lesson!" one of them hollered over the chaos that had erupted. "Let's torch this place and burn it to the ground!"

As the boys started spraying the cans of kerosene across the room, Anne saw an opportunity to get away and took it.

Wrenching herself free from the vice-like grasp of one of the intruders, Anne snatched up a broom that was resting against the wall next to her and slammed it straight into the back of the boy's head.

As he crumpled, unconscious, to the ground, she swivelled about just in time to see the flicker of a match being lit. Horrified, she let out a warning shout to her friends, "Watch out!"

The air was rent by the sound of a loud, explosive bang!

Suddenly, there was fire everywhere! Sheets of raw, red fire encompassed the building. Clouds of black smoke spiralled out of the open windows and doors. Screams and shouts of terror sounded from every which direction. The piercing blare of an alarm shattered the tumultuous scene.

Anne stumbled backwards, away from the stinging smoke and singeing flames. Struggling to retain her composure, she fumbled around, desperately searching for an exit.

She wasn't supposed to go down like this.

Just then, a familiar figure protruded from the thick swamp of smoke surrounding her. A deep, smooth voice called out to her. A large, calloused hand seized her own.

"Anne. Follow me."

It was Bec.

Hurriedly, he led her, firmly but gently, through the haze of wreckage and chaos towards the back doors situated next to Barnum's office.

Covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve, Bec shoved the door open and pushed Anne out.

As she clambered outside, gasping and panting for air, she realised, with a horrified intake of breath, that Bec was no longer with her.

Spinning around to face the building that was alight with streaks of fire and torrents of smoke, she let out a scream of terror and dismay.

Bec was still inside the burning museum!

Gif: Bec in the burning building.

Question of the update: If you knew that Bec was trapped inside the fiery explosion, would you go back in to rescue him or would you remain outside where it was safe?

XX