Everybody’s Got an Act
The Greatest Showman Klance AU
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Read on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13322358
Another night of pointless chatter. Another night of pompous people, all of them with forgettable faces and bland expressions. They had all become one bundled up blur of nothing for Keith. The expensive dresses and fancy suits were no longer noteworthy when there was no way for them to stand out.
The same droning words fluttered all around the night sky as people got into their carriages and walked home in their coats.
“Exquisite work. Wonderful plot. Of course, she could have been a bit louder. The orchestra was beautiful.”
These plays had everyone convinced they knew what art was. But it was all a façade, and no one knew it better than Keith as he tossed back his flask and let the burn of bourbon heat his body in the chilling air.
“Excuse me, are you Keith Kogane?”
Keith turned and saw a redheaded man whose hair looked like a candle fire- orange and wispy. He had aging lines on his face, a handlebar mustache and kind faded blue eyes. He seemed harmless.
“Yes, I am.”
“And you put on this play?”
Keith grimaced and drank more from his flask. “Refunds are available at the tick-”
“Oh, no, no,” the man said with a hearty laugh. “You had a large crowd. It was impressive.” Keith snorted and shook his flask, hoping there was enough to last until the after party where he could drown in endless champagne glasses. “Coran Smythe,” he said, reaching his hand out to shake Keith’s.
The name rang familiar, and as Keith shook his hand, he recognized the face and name. “Oh my God. From the circus?”
He beamed and nodded. “So, you’ve been to my show.”
“God no,” Keith scoffed. He cleared his throat and amended. “No, but I’ve read all about it in the newspaper. Fascinating, really. Very risky. Your audiences have been known to leave in much better moods than mine.”
Coran laughed and nodded. “Yes, well everyone loves a good show. But you have a talent for selling those tickets. For convincing people. I need more of the upper class seeing my show.”
“Why would you want that? If you knew how suffocating it is to be around them….”
Coran raised an eyebrow and leaned on a staff with a golden bulb at the top. “Let me buy you a drink,” he said, gesturing away.
Keith shrugged to himself. Champagne or more liquor. It didn’t matter. At least this was new. He followed the orange-haired man to a nearby bar. It was mostly empty despite the late hour. They sat at the counter and Coran ordered a couple of shots which Keith had no trouble tossing back.
“You’re a good businessman. You’re good at selling things.”
Keith frowned and leaned his cheek on his hand. “No. The upper class simply loves their image,” he answered. “I sell them virtue and they take it.”
“But you’re a heavy influence,” Coran insisted. Keith grimaced and broke open a peanut to eat. It was crunchy and bland. “I’ve an offer for you.”
Reblogging this because I’m watching the movie with my guys and I remember how ridiculously hard I worked on this in December.
ruinedchildhood
