1992, New York

 

The carnival arrived when the sun was brightest. It was a majestic thing, unlike any seen before. It appeared suddenly, as if materializing from thin air. It didn't take long for the whole town to discuss excitedly the appearance of the circus.

 

So strange, they whispered. It was suddenly there when it wasn't.

 

That wasn't all that was strange. When they came to take a closer look, their faces fell, disappointed. The circus only opens at night, when the sun begins to set and closes when the sun rises.

 

So strange, they whispered further. What kind of circus only opens at night? Yet, they all gathered at the gates just before the sun set. 

 

When the last of the rays disappeared, they held their breath collectively as the circus lights switched on. First an e, then an s, an L and then a q.

 

The light bathed the circus in a kind of dusky yet calming brightness, not unlike those found in fairy tales and night soirees in gardens. The sign finished lighting up, and the words were complete. 

 

Some turned to each other,  confused. Others smiled knowingly and in pleasure. A girl in a pressed floral dress tugged on her mother's skirt. "Mama, what is it? What does it mean?"

 

The mother merely smiled and whispered, "Le Cirque des Reves; The Circus of Dreams."

 

-

 

It soon became apparent to the visitors that the circus had a theme to it. Sophistication. Elegance. The lights were soft and comforting. The smell a mix of popcorn and pine trees. The circus members were dressed immaculately, decked out in black, grey and white with most choosing to wear masks that cover a portion if not their whole face.

 

The food was savory and light. Popcorn were served crunchy or soft, drizzled with honey and salted butter. Apples were dripped in caramel. Soft brownies that melted in your mouth. Guzzling root beer, delicious candy and scrumptious snacks topped it off.

 

But the conversation that circled the visitors were that of the tents. They were huge; black striped with white. But it was what they housed that had them gasping in amazement. The acrobats flew gracefully, without nets as backup. The contortionists bent themselves in impossible shapes. The animals seemed to wink and talk. The tents themselves housed magical objects, a house of mirrors and the maze which seemed to shift around. 

 

At exactly midnight, the cauldron in the heart of the circus started to emit sparks. People stopped and stared as five men in suits in different shades of black and grey stood a few feet with bows cocked with flame-tipped arrows.

 

The first man shot the bow directly into the cauldron which into orange flame. The second shot turned it yellow. The third made is fiery red. The fourth, a vibrant blue. 

 

The fifth was shot by a man decked in a white suit with a black rose tucked in his pocket.  He turned the fire a brilliant pure white.

 

Two year old Lee Minhyuk, son of the illusionist, watched with wide eyes. The man in the white suit turned to him, his face half concealed by a silver mask. Minhyuk held out the vial he was instructed to hold to be passed to him. The man gave him a slight nod, took it, and poured the vial into the cauldron. 

 

A slight wind ruffled Minhyuk's hair as he stared at the cauldron. He stood next to the man in the white suit who whispered, "Welcome to the circus, Kim Yukwon."

 

Over the hustling and bustling of the circus, it was then that Minhyuk heard it. A sound so beautiful, he would grow to remember it for life. 

 

From numerous tents away, a baby started to cry.