Free The Cirque by Ryann Kerekes

handed me a pink drink and the ice cubes were already starting to melt. “I liked that back-bend thing you do,” he said giving me a kiss between sips of his drink.
    “Thanks.” I tasted my drink, it was much too sweet, but that was an improvement over the vodka he usually offered me. I made it clear I wasn’t interested in going into his bedroom, though for Dmitri’s part, I knew he had several creative ways to lure me there. Instead we hung out in the cramped living room with the flyers from his troupe.
    They never really paid much attention to me, but I felt important since I sat on Dmitri’s knee and he was their ringleader. They kept my drink refilled as fast as I could drink it and after a while I started to get light headed. The music seemed much too loud. The never-ending techno soundtrack was giving me a headache.
    “D-Dmitri.” I knew I slurred my words, but I couldn’t help it. He wasn’t paying attention to me. I think he was conversing in Russian with the guys around us, but I couldn’t be sure. My ears weren’t working right. “I don’t feel so good.” I tugged on his shirtsleeve.
    I felt him get up and carry me to his room. He laid me down on his bed. I remember him trying to kiss me, but I was pretty out of it. I just wanted to sleep. I flopped back heavily onto the bed. I might have slept for a while, but was then awoken by two people arguing. I was lying on my stomach and felt dizzy. I felt like I was floating above my body, completely removed from reality.
    I couldn’t figure out what was happening, only that Dmitri was definitely pissed, and fighting with someone. I just wanted them to stop yelling so I could sleep.
    I heard a voice. It may have been Dmitri’s. “You knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” I heard furniture getting knocked around and the same voice said, “You actually think she’ll pick you over me?”
    I didn’t understand what was happening, but something was pulled over my head and my arms stuffed through. Strong arms wrapped around me and then I was moving, which made me feel even queasier.
    The gravel crunched as we moved and my head bobbed up and down against a warm, bare chest. We stopped moving when we reached the door to my trailer. As my bare feet touched the cold ground, several things struck me at once: I wasn’t wearing pants; Gabriel had been carrying me; and I was about to be sick. In my clouded state, it was all too much to process. I leaned over and threw up on his shoes.
    ***
    I woke up the next morning to Sasha shaking me.
    “Stop,” I mumbled. “What are you doing?”
    “We’ve got to go get on the bus.” She leaned over me, looking worried. “And I might as well warn you that Gabriel was pretty pissed last night. After he put you in bed, he punched the wall.” She nodded toward a new dent in our trailer wall.
    “Huh?” Jumbled images of the night before flashed through my mind. Kissing Dmitri… him removing my clothes while I tried to sleep.
    “You got wasted at the party and Gabriel had to carry you home. I should also warn you that you arrived here not wearing anything except a t-shirt. Not yours.”
    What the hell had happened last night? Would I remember if Dmitri and I…. Shit. I didn’t remember anything. I looked myself over. Sasha was right. I was wearing a t-shirt that wasn’t mine. It was a faded black Hurley shirt that I’d seen Gabriel wear before. I’d gotten drunk and made an ass of myself. And worst of all, Gabriel had witnessed it all. But then I remembered that Gabriel hadn’t been at the party, so I wondered how he’d known I needed him. I vaguely remembered him barging into Dmitri’s room and shoving him off me.
    Sasha brought me back to reality. “Listen, I get that you’re hung over, but everything’s pretty much packed up. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
    “I feel like shit.” I moaned and tried to roll over into the fetal position. My body didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
    “Yeah,