Year One

My life has always been kind of chaotic and out of the ordinary. At least if you had a happy childhood and a nice family. I grew up, living with my mother and her ever changing boyfriends. She always claimed the current guy to be the love of her life. I do not believe there being more than one or two loves of your life was possible. It certainly wasn't possible to have at least fifteen loves of your life and how suddenly they always seemed to turn into nightmares. One of this nightmares was my father, who ended up in Black Gate and was found dead after a few weeks of his incarceration. My mother thought it was a relieve, because this saved her a messy divorce, but it wasn't that easy for me. The day she told me my father had died in prison, my heart broke. I loved my father, even if he was a hustler and a thief, because he had loved me, like my mother never could. I wasn't a planned child and she hasn't ever left out a chance to mention that fact, while my father had tried to keep her quiet when I was around. My childhood was a mess and led me onto a path my father would not have approved of, even if he himself had been a crook. He wanted me to be better, I am sure of that. In comparison to that, my mother didn't care at all what I did, as long as I didn't bother her or the current lover boy.

The flat we lived in wasn't much. After dad's incarceration we couldn't afford much and mothers job didn't get us far either. Most of it was invested into booze and cigarettes anyways. It didn't take long for me to start my criminal career with shop lifting. At first I took what I needed to survive, especially at the start, but after a while I took more and more. At some point I sold what I didn't need for little money. Looking back now, it was a miracle nobody ever caught me.

After one of my little 'shopping sprees' I decided to have some more fun and visited Haly's Circus which had been in town once again. I was thirteen at the time and hadn't exactly a lot of friends and since my mom was a not big on hanging out with her daughter, I went there on my own. I somehow managed to sneak in, I didn't have that much money and certainly didn't want to waste it on a useless thing, like a ticket for a circus. Oh boy, had I known what awaited me there I would have paid a lot to make sure I got in. I stole one of the tickets from a family, before they could enter the tent and showed it to the guy that made sure no one could sneak in. I put on my prettiest smile, when he asked where my parents were at and lied to him that I'd meet them inside. Lying had become easier and easier after all these years, because, as much as I despised my mother, I didn't want to end up in the foster care system. It was easier to lie about the bruises, her not taking care of me and the stealing, than ending up in an orphanage or in a detention centre. Everything was fine as long as we lived our separate lives, only connected through the flat we shared. I can't really remember when I stopped loving or even liking my mother, but I was pretty sure it was, when she started to refer to my father and me as the biggest mistakes of her life.

The show was good, I especially liked the acrobatics and the aerial acts. For a while now I engaged a little bit in gymnastics myself, for the sole purpose of staying fit and maybe a little because it was easier to get into college with a talent that could earn a scholarship. I wasn't stupid and knew if I truly wanted to get out of the life my mother lived or that of my father which I had started to indulge in, I needed a degree. I didn't want to be a thief for my whole life, I wanted to be more, something else, but it was hard and I already knew that as a thirteen-year-old girl. At that time, I thought I'd still have a lot of time.
The clowns were funny too and I loved seeing the trained animals doing their tricks. For a little while my problems didn't matter and I was baffled when it was over and the people around me started to leave the tent. Many of them left immediately and others, including me, toured the grounds, went to the old fortune teller and bought some candy. Here it was a little harder to steal, but I had enough money with me to buy me at least some cotton candy and sat down on a bale of straw with it. It was getting dark already and I should get going, but I decided to watch the families roaming the circus grounds a little longer. Nothing waited for me at home anyways. I watched them having fun, some argued and others simply seemed in a rush to get home. While I stuffed the last bit of cotton candy into my mouth and watched a family sharing their candy, I wondered why only I seemed to be alone in this world. How was that fair? Normally I was a lot more perceptive to my surroundings, but I didn't even register someone sneaking up to me from the side, until the person sat down beside me on the bale, foreign knees bumping into mine.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He asked me and I turned my head to face him. "That frown doesn't suit you at all."

He was maybe a little older than I, had a pale complexion and bright ginger hair. He seemed to be a lot taller and had dark blue eyes. He wore a thick sweater and blue jeans. His voice was nice and friendly, but something inside of me told me to run. I wasn't scared easily, so why the hell should I run away from a boy that seemed so harmless? And he was attractive too, in a not so obvious fashion. Of course I must've looked harmless to others too, but I wasn't at all defenseless. You don't go out shop lifting without being prepared to put up a fight, if it was necessary.

"I am not sad." I simply stated and looked away again, registering that the family I had watched earlier had moved on.

"Not anymore. So what's your name?" He didn't seem to go away soon and I hadn't had a nice chat in ages. My gaze returned to him and I smiled a little. Maybe he was fun. He seized me up, took in my appearance and I was sure all he could see was a skinny blonde girl, in worn clothes. I wore torn jeans and a stained black jacket. My blue eyes were way too big for my eyes and my skin was just as pale as his.

"Tell my yours first."

"Fine, princess." He grinned when he addressed me with that stupid nickname. I was a lot but certainly not a fucking princess. "The names Jerome Valeska."

"I'm Harley Quinzel." I finally said and waited for him to make a stupid joke, about my stupid name, like everyone did.

"Really? Your mother truly called you Harley?" He didn't seem to buy it; I wouldn't have either. The name was simply ridiculous. "She called you like a goddamn chopper?"

I winced, if that was only right. "Not really. Don't laugh, but my full name is Harleen Frances Quinzel. Everyone calls me Harley."

He couldn't help himself and started to chuckle. "That is even worse than Jerome. I don't like my name either."

Again I smiled a little. "Jerome is way better than Harleen."

"It's not. Well, then I'll simply call you Harley and you can call me J. How does that sound?" He asked and looked at me with a sweet smile. It somehow looked false and almost too sweet and there my internal fear bubbled up again.

"It was nice to talk to you, J, but I gotta go now. My parents are waiting for me." I lied and got up, quickly brushing dust from my behind and starting to walk away, when he grabbed my wrist and held me back.

"I don't think someone's waiting for you, since you've sneaked in all on your own, grabbed yourself a ticket off a random guy and watched the show all on your own." He grinned at me deviously and I was too baffled to react otherwise, then letting him pulling me back to sit beside him once again.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, but you could at least be so nice and talk to me a little longer." He clearly had been watching me the whole time to know that all.
"Are you some kind of stalker?" I asked him angry and pouted a little.

"I am not. Was simply a little bored, until you waltzed in and provided a little bit of entertainment."
"Isn't the fucking circus entertaining enough?" Evidently not.

"Nah, it gets boring after seeing the same shit for fifteen years. Sometimes they try new stuff, but mostly it is always the same." So he belonged to the circus I finally realized. It hadn't even crossed my mind for a second, he simply didn't look like I always imagined a circus person. He also hadn't been in the show. "But you aren't boring at all, Har~ley-girl. You may look ugly when you're sad, but so cute when you're angry."

Maybe I could talk myself out of this. He wasn't particularly scary and he seemed to like me, but I didn't feel too good around him either. I felt vulnerable and defenseless, which I didn't like at all.

"So you work here? You weren't in the show, were you?"

His smile didn't drop off his face for a second, but I could tell that he wasn't too crazy about this topic. "I am just the son of the snake dancer and help out where I am needed. I'd rather talk about you. Why aren't your parents with you today?"

Now that was a topic I disliked, but he was still holding onto my wrist, gripped it so hard he almost hurt me. I'd humor him a little longer. "My father died in prison six years ago and my mother is a bitch, that doesn't care about me at all, only about the guys she brings home. So why would she go to the circus with me?" Normally this was enough to scare most people away, but all I earned for this statement was an even bigger grin. This ginger was full of surprises.

"At least you don't have to live in a tiny trailer with your mother, listening to how she lets a bloody clown fuck her, right after she had a go with one of the acrobats." Jerome's voice was as cold as ice, but this almost disturbing grin never left his face, even if the grip on my wrist instantly loosened. I couldn't help, but feel a certain sympathy towards him, after all I knew all too well how he must feel. Maybe it was even harder for him, being a guy and all.
"At least your mother isn't afraid, that you could pinch her boyfriends. As if I was interested in the losers she brings home all the time." I snarled and looked away. How could my mother even think, that I could do such a thing as starting something with her guys? I was only thirteen for god's sake! The men she brought home were at least twice my age and I tried hard to keep out of their way. I had been lucky, there hasn't been one with pedophilic tendency's yet.

As weird as it sounded, this topic somehow made me forget how afraid I had been of Jerome mere moments ago. I started to let go of my resentments and saw him for what he was. A kindred soul, that has to go through the same ordeal I have to. He didn't say anything for a while, maybe he hadn't been prepared for my answer, but he still held onto my wrist. I managed to struggle out of his grip, when he didn't seem to pay any attention to me and then I did something that surprised even myself. Instead of running from him, as I had previously planned, I took his hand in mine and looked up into his troubled eyes.

"Our mothers are whores. So what?" I couldn't help myself, but trying to cheer him up, with one of my prettiest grin. "We don't need them, do we?"

A sincere smile appeared on his lips and I couldn't help but admire these cute freckles and wonder if somebody had ever tried to count them. Suddenly my fear and bitterness was gone.

"You are a weird little girl. I like that." Then he did something I would have never expected, even if this evening was full of surprises. Jerome lowered his face to mine and placed a small kiss on my lips. His lips were soft and even if it was just a light touch, it was my first kiss nonetheless. Where the hell had that come from? But again, I was more startled by my reaction, as I raised my free hand and lay it on his cheek, keeping him from drawing back. This time it was me that reached out to his mouth and placed a not so chaste kiss on his lips. Never before had I been interested in kissing a boy, but now a foreign feeling troubled my stomach.

"You taste like pure sugar, sweetheart." He purred when he managed to pull back anyways.

I panted a little. "Cotton candy."

"I guessed that, princess." With that he got up and I reluctantly let go of his hand. "You should head home now. Maybe we'll see each other again."

"When, J?" I asked and tried not to sound whiney.

Jerome grinned at me again and I started to like his wicked expression a lot more than I probably should.

"Next year."

Jerome walked away after ushering these awful words, leaving me with no choice that to stay put. My legs were shaking as I sat there, staring at his back and kept wondering what had just happened.

To be continued...