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The first thing that they did when they got out was cut their hair. In the time they'd been stuck in that game, their hair had grown past their shoulders, and the purple had faded greatly. It was the same length when they woke up as it had been there. Except this time it was allowed to fall into their face instead of be tied in low pigtails. The hairstylist had been able to salvage what had been chopped at with kitchen scissors, at the very least. Short and to its natural brown now, they felt like a real person, rather than something unnatural and plastic.
Frequently they found themselves wiggling their fingers while holding their breath, as if to remind them that they wouldn't harden into something unmoving. That had been their least favorite gimmick about their digital body. Being trapped and helpless at the lack of breath had only fueled their greater fears.
There was a certain disconnect between who they had been before the headset and who they were now, after the circus. The name Lavender didn't feel like theirs anymore, not when they'd been Mari for so long, but Mari was only a harsh reminder of the prison they'd been trapped in. They named themselves Reagan. It meant "little king," and they felt like they'd conquered something like a king would do.
Kind of.
Reagan had avoided the police since waking up in the hospital. The story was that they'd put on some old headset in an abandoned office building in the company of their family and had gone out cold. No one could wake them up, and somehow the headset had stuck itself to their head. Upon further investigation, the police and doctors had found some sort of system in the headset that would connect to and disrupt brain waves. Reagan didn't entirely understand it, and they didn't want to. They didn't need to know the nitty gritty details of the device that had stolen them from their normal life. Knowing made it more real.
They'd been under for about a month, but for them it'd felt like even longer than that. They personally speculated there was sort of time dilation within the circus to make the days seem like weeks or months. They told themselves it didn't matter, even if their brain was struggling to come to terms with it all.
It didn't matter.
Reagan had always hated watching the news, had always hated how bleak the world had become. But they were watching it now from their television, parents on either side of them.
"Authorities all over the country have reported that C&A have officially shut down, with those in charge of their Circus program being taken into custody," the news reporter . "Over thirty people all over the country have woken up from comas caused by C&A's headsets, and it is heavily advised that anyone with the same type of virtual reality headset turn them in to your local police." A photo of the same headset that had trapped Reagan's mind appears on the screen.explained
"Over thirty people…" Reagan's mom murmured with horror.
"With the virtual reality hype, I wouldn't be surprised if some of those were children," their dad said. Both looked at Reagan.
But Reagan didn't speak. On the screen, the scene switched to an interview with a woman. Adelaide Adams, the caption read. Then it changed, and their nails dig into their thighs.
Adelaide Adams, Programmer and Victim of the Circus Program.
Her voice was unfamiliar.
"Both my husband and I were some of the first people to enter the Circus. The two of us had worked very closely on the program, and I had been one of the creators of the Creative Artificial Intelligence Networking Entity." Caine. She had created Caine. "It was meant to be a test run. The entire purpose of the Circus was to create an ever growing and highly immersive adventure game that would be able to run itself. We… David and I… we weren't aware of what C&A had done with the headsets. We didn't know it was all an experiment." The woman on the screen was calm as she spoke, voice unwavering until that moment. "I was not as mentally aware as long as David was, but the Circus broke his mind. I feel as if I were the luckier out of the two of us, even if I did suffer through a glitch that put my mind in a sort of stasis until the program was shut down."
A glitch. A stasis. A husband who went mad in the Circus.
Reagan's legs carry them to the bathroom automatically, and they throw up bile that they hadn't realized had been rising during that interview.
Everyone had made it out. Even the abstracted.
They'd been sitting at dinner after an adventure when everything abruptly ended. One moment they were talking with Bonnie and Jax about the glories of olive oil ice cream, and the next they were blinking awake in a hospital room. A doctor held that cursed headset above their head, and they were surrounded by real, human people they hadn't seen in nearly a year.
In the two months following their awakening, they hadn't done anything to search for the others. Some hopeless part of them wondered if they had been the only one who was free, or if it had all been some elaborate AI. Maybe the circus hadn't been real at all, and it was just their imagination. The interview had changed all those doubts, though.
They had seen the doors in the hall, had stared at every crossed out portrait for hours, wondering who were the people behind the abstracted. There was only one man in the circus with a broken mind, and only one avatar that had matched his wooden form. Kinger and the queen piece. They were real, and they were out of the circus, just like Reagan was.
The Circus Project was trending online, with several new accounts claiming to have been part of it. Most, if not all of it, was engagement bait from people trying to profit off of the story. Reagan still read every post thoroughly, looking up keywords that only people who had been in it would know.
They find the post in the trenches of Reddit of all places from a new account. No likes or dislikes or whatever the system was with Reddit posts, and just from a few hours earlier.
@JaxRabbit: All the people posting about the circus like they were actually in it. Least original engagement bait if you asked me.
JaxRabbit. Jax Rabbit. Jax. Jax. Jax.
They make a new account and comment.
@mariandposa: more original than putting centipedes in someone's room, but i digress. text me
They attach their phone number and throw the device across the bed, heart pounding in their chest. They felt ill, and curl up around their long pillow like it could hold them back.
An hour later they wake to their phone ringing. When it ends, it starts immediately again. It's an unknown number, so they decline on instinct, but it rings again as soon as they do. Their stomach lurches, and they answer, shaky hand lifting their phone to their ear.
"Bug."
His voice is breathless, but so undeniably his.
"Bun," Reagan gasps out. Their eyes water.
"About time you answered," Jax says, and they chuckle wetly.
"'M sorry… I was sleeping… I told you to text, though…"
"I needed to hear it was you. I couldn't risk it being some loser."
Reagan nods, even though he can't see them, and sniffles. From the other line, Jax sighs, and there's some shuffling.
"I can hear you crying. That excited to hear from me, huh?" There's a tease in his voice, but it's thick with emotion. Their laugh comes out more like a sob.
"I was scared it wasn't real," they mumble, wiping their eyes with the heel of their hand.
"How obvious could I be? Really, JaxRabbit was the perfect username to make sure people found me."
"So looking up keywords was the best choice."
There's a moment of silence, a long one, and shuffling on his end. As Reagan thinks back on their conversation thus far, though find amusement in how he had immediately started it with the name he'd called them for ages. To someone else, it probably would've been confusing. Reagan gnaws on their bottom lip a second, and when they open their mouth to say something, he talks instead.
"I'm Felix, by the way. So, uh, you know what my name is out here."
"Reagan. My name is Reagan. Actually, uh, it was Lavender before, but it didn't feel like mine when I woke up so I changed it." A pause. "What do you look like?"
"Oh, devilishly handsome. The people can't help but fall over in awe at my beauty." Reagan snorts while Felix snickers on the other end. "No, uh, kinda tan, got a few beauty marks on my face, bleached hair that's grown out a bit— had that purple for a little bit for reasons I can't even explain now, but that faded."
"Your eyes just as yellow as in the circus, or are they something more realistic?"
"Amber. They're amber. No, god, I don't think Bonnie would've let me go if I looked that much like that avatar. My teeth aren't yellow, either. I feel like that's an important detail." Both laugh softly. "What do you look like?"
At that, Reagan hums and stands, walking over to their mirror to stare into it. They lean close, phone still held up to their ear, peering into their own eyes. "Blue eyes, short brown hair. I've got this tattoo of a heart on my left cheekbone and gold glasses. Sometimes I have freckles, but I haven't been out in the sun enough to regain them."
"What are you wearing?"
"Oh my god-"
"Not like that, jeez. I just- I want a proper visual. Got my eyes closed and everything."
Reagan huffs with amusement and sits on the edge of their bed. "Oversized black hoodie, plaid pajama pants. Need my underwear, or is that enough of a visual for you?"
"Ha-ha."
"Yeah, yeah. What are you wearing?"
"Black tank top and gray sweatpants."
"Oh?"
"What is with people and gray sweatpants?" That makes Reagan laugh out loud, and Felix goes quiet. Really quiet, and they begin to worry before he's speaking again.
"I missed that a lot. Your laugh. You."
Their heart aches, and their eyes prick with tears again as they bite back a snarky comment about him needing to muster up the courage to say that.
"I missed you too. So fucking much."
During their phone call, they determine that they were on opposite sides of the country. Felix instantly booked a plane ticket. He'd be there three days later.
Reagan was waiting in the airport, now, with parents standing against the wall and watching them as they held up a small piece of paper with his name written on it. They knew their parents were more than worried about this, but with how eager Reagan had been about Felix flying over, they couldn't resist their whims. It must've been the happiest their child had been in months.
They'd gotten the message that Felix had landed about five minutes earlier, and perked up as a group approached the escalators and went down them, eyes searching for anyone who matched Felix's appearance. They, foolishly enough, hadn't sent any pictures to each other, too busy with planning the impromptu trip.
There, at the back of the group, a man who towered over the people around him, dark hair peeking from the bleached strands. His eyes scanned the people in the room, before locking on Reagan, who promptly began to approach with haste.
"Bun?"
"Hey, Bug."
His arms are firm and so real when he envelops them in a hug, feeling so much like and yet unlike his hugs in the circus. He's so warm when Reagan leans into him, their own two arms wrapping around him. He smells like wood and something so distinctly him. Their height difference is about the same that it was with their avatars— with their thick soles on their shoes, the top of their head reached his chin.
It felt so right.
Felix pressed his face to the top of their head a few times before Reagan processed that he was pressing kisses against their hair, and they let out a noise of contentment, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. His amber eyes are soft and a little misty. He has a beauty mark under his left eye and above the right corner of his lips and several on his throat. Reagan kind of wanted to kiss every one individually.
"You're so much more beautiful than your avatar," Felix whispered, and when Reagan stands on their toes to kiss him, he let out a hum. Both of his hands lifted to cradle their face like they were something precious and fragile, and maybe they felt like that right now, because their throat burned with the need to cry.
It's a little weird learning to kiss when they actually had noses, but they manage. It's soft and deep and yearning, and Reagan feels like they could burst. When they part to breathe, they whisper out, "I love you, Bun."
"I love you too, Bug."
They untangle from each other, and with burning cheeks, Reagan turned to their parents, who quickly look away like they hadn't been watching their kid and an unfamiliar man kiss for a solid thirty seconds.
"Uh- want to meet my parents?"
"Nah, but let's go."