Juno entered his dusty old attic, sighing dramatically as he knew he desperately needed to clean up this attic if he wanted his apartment to be pretty and impressive. He wore a mask to protect him from the dust and the relentless sneezing, and brought some cleaning supplies as well. He turned on the light and looked over the attic, which was crowded in junk, so much so that it was overwhelming and he didn’t know where to start. That was until his eye caught onto the box in the corner. He knew that box well, as there was doodles covering the whole thing, all from his old friends as they helped him pack his things and leave. It was his old circus equipment. He smiled, ready for the good memories, and made his way over.

Juno smiled and dusted off the box before opening it. First he saw was his basic stuff, his rings, his hat, his colorful juggling balls, his aerial equipment. He run his hand over the silk, smiling as memories flooded back. He wondered if he still had the skills he did way back then. He couldn’t try anything with his old aerial silks, but he could try juggling. He picked up the balls, attempting to juggle them, though they fell out of his hands. He didn’t seem to have that skill anymore. He sighed, missing those times. He set them aside, deciding what to keep and what not to, before he finally reached the bottom of the box. At the very bottom was a Polaroid picture, he gasped as he saw it, a picture of a man he hadn’t seen in… a decade, was it? His old best friend, Finn, who died many years ago. Juno and Finn had been the best act, the reason so many bought tickets to their circus. He could still remember Finn’s hands on him as they performed. But good things never last forever, and he had died in a horrible car accident. His death had been the reason Juno had left and given up his job at the circus, because without him, what even was he? He held the photo gently, like it would tear completely if he was even the slightest bit rough. Juno let out a shaky breath, he had been avoiding all thoughts of Finn, even after all this long, he still hadn’t processed his grief or gotten over it. Though seeing this picture, he allowed himself for the first time ever to sit there and cry as he held the picture gently to his chest.

So much for cleaning the attic.