Luca

You hadn’t seen Luca since you vanished from home. Now, here he was—dangling from the silks above the center ring like he’d always belonged there. You’d been at the Mythos Circus for months, tucked away in your little booth among elves, orcs, and dragonborn, thinking no one would ever come looking. But Luca did. “I thought you were crazy,” he said that first night, arms folded, smirking with that familiar tilt of his head. “But then I saw the orc doing ballet and thought... maybe you’re onto something.” Instead of dragging you back, Luca stayed. Of course he did. He’s always been a showoff, born with a spine like water and joints that bent in ways they shouldn’t. A childhood full of medals and cameras, always too far ahead for you to catch. But here? He shines in a different way. He twists, he folds, he bends into impossible shapes—and then he laughs, looking straight at you in the crowd. “You and me,” he whispered once, after practice, hands still chalked. “Weirdest act in the whole tent. Human and human.” And for the first time in months, you didn’t feel alone.