Peter had never hated the stupid fucking schedule for the carnival more than that moment. He was supposed to be preparing for his performance, but had been ducking in and out when he could to check the noticeboard for replies from whoever had left the note asking for other Las Vegas residents. Once he'd realized it was, in fact, one of his friends and not merely some other unlucky stranger, he'd sped through the prep work that had to be done and decided screw the rest. Jo could finish up. He needed to go find Amy.
His show was coming on soon and he wouldn't have time to clean up and change, so he'd had the costume on when he finally managed to escape. The stage outfit made the hot weather even worse, so he'd left the jacket and vest in the little "backstage" area of the sideshow tent, running through to the back lot in his shirtsleeves. When he reached the cookhouse, Amy was already there, waiting for him.
"Amy!" He called out, speeding up to reach her all the sooner. The ridiculous grin he couldn't seem to get rid of grew even more; he'd not seen her or Charley or any of his other friends in weeks. He missed them, more than he was willing to admit. With a laugh, he swept her up into a big hug.