Who: Antonin and Bonnie
When: Nighttime
Where: The South Hamilton Street Performance House
Today had been Bonnie's first day back to work since Dex left. After twenty-four hours the police had let them file a missing person's report, and... that had been it. None of them had heard anything yet, and didn't know when (or if) they would, and it was generally pretty damn miserable. Life had to go on, though. She couldn't walk around the house like a zombie forever. So she'd returned to work, because hey - the freak show must go on. Flames had to be danced with, knives had to be thrown, and that fiery redhead had to look hot stage left while other artists did their things. Balancing lawn mowers, swinging from hooks in their skin (Bonnie had never been brave enough for that one... ouch. Plus, she was not a fan of scarring her skin)... typical show, but people seemed to like it.
After taking her final bow, she headed backstage, and plopped down at one of the massive, brightly lit vanity tables to remove her make-up. It was a small theater, there were no dressing rooms. But it was a family environment. Nobody in this group could be shocked easily. Probably why she fit in so well. She stared at her reflection for the longest time, thinking about how Dex had helped her learn to throw daggers when she was a little girl.
Dammit, she thought, sighing heavily as she forced herself to pull it together. At least take the damn make-up off.
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