Entertainment. Who I was then, who I am now. I live for the drama, hilarity, and jokes that the world wishes to produce. My world sees to it that I am put in my place, and every day, I fight against succumbing to it. I fail, often. But I always strive to create the happiness I don’t have in others. Most others.

I gripped my heart, it nearly beat out of my chest, tightly wrapped in brightly colored, yet still dismal costuming. It felt as if I squirmed within a gypsies quilt. My face beamed like the sun underneath the globs of makeup, I couldn’t be happier.

My compatriots in entertainment surrounded me, some already out on stage before my bloodshot eyes. It was late, and I’d been perhaps the only one who’d practiced his lines more than once. I’d not slept in two days. Any sleep was against my will as my body often collapsed as I practiced in my room, but not now, I felt simply more alive than ever.

My time was now. In mere seconds they would have me up there, the excitement was building inside me as if I was bloating. A single long exhale fixed that, but I felt giddy still.

A stage manager behind the curtain signaled to us, catching me off guard! I knew the correct way to do this. Two skinny men dressed in soldier uniforms went before me and I watched for three seconds, I counted, as the script said of me. Then I walked, merrily and full of levity, as if the wind carried my feet, skipping like a child out onto the stage.

The guards stood beside a false king in his throne. I wanted to look out into the audience to the real one, to his majesty, a man I’d never seen, but looked up to… o’ so much. The script however, said otherwise. I was to address the false king and not take a single stare at the audience. So I begrudgingly obeyed.

I turned to him with a merry smile across my face only the guards and the monarch could see. I bowed, playing up the fantasy to the expectant audience. Oh so picky they were, oh how they laughed others straight out of the theater. Not this Jester! I’d watched them, and I knew I must please them, and I had in the past. Now with an audience of the king himself, I knew not to fuck this one up.

“King Rasmodius!” I declared to the king, full of shock and drama I brought from my soul. “There has been a development you must hear, your glorious highness!” I added in the glorious part myself, this performance truly needed to be exciting enough for the king to watch it.

“And… what might that be, Fool?” he stuttered in words. He was the lead actor! What a disgrace, I knew His Majesty had to have noticed this error.

“The Southern Court sent a messenger with letter in hand, but an assassin’s knife has found its way into this poor soul’s neck! Whatever shall we do, my liege!” I moaned in sorrow, I felt I was really killing it here! But I shan’t get caught up in the moment! I was still on stage!

“I must see the letter, give it to me.” he said, much more commanding, he was playing his part much better. I smiled a little wider at the thought of his improvement.

“Of course!” I replied, holding out the blank page rolled and wrapped with ribbon and seal.

He took it with one swift motion and opened it dramatically, a good performance still! His eyes grew full, pupils shrinking, face gaping. He tossed it aside and stood to his feet, rousing the audience, I felt their emotion rise like a hawk through the air. With a swift motion, he grabbed the prop sword leaning against the wooden throne, almost as shiny as a real one, but less sharp.

“Guards!” he ordered with a boom that filled the auditorium.

“Sir!” they replied, turning to him and slamming their prop spears against the stage in response.

“We must ride for the South Coast, the Queen requires Sir Dudley and I’s audience! Prepare the horses, we leave in an hour!” each word he said came out flawlessly, he’d gotten into character so well, it was like a dream. He pointed his sword into the spotlight and it glimmered like a gem. I hear several gasps from the audience at the glamorous pose. I could imagine our fair king doing such a pose.

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As they exited stage right, I went to the left and returned where I stood before this whole ordeal.

It was so perfect. I’d gotten everything I wanted.

Except to see his majesty.

What a blissful night I had.

I got to watch the rest of the show from the sidelines, and it’s tragic end. Although the rest was quite a snore before the false bloodshed.

I knew the tale. The tale of the bitter end of King Rasmodius the Tenth. The last of his lineage.

It was an overdramatized version, sure, but it was a real tale with a real death at the end. Although, I fell asleep halfway through, and I felt as though they did too. They. The audience. One of the crucial peoples this show was made for. The shoddy acting from everyone let me down, knowing they embarrassed themselves in front of His Majesty.

I remembered my scene. The excitement, the raw drama! I was as if my very presence made the show better.

Granted, it was at the beginning and that meant everyone still had a pulse, but still, I only think I heard reaction around those parts, and of course the obligatory applause.

I had no idea if the king enjoyed it, but I like to think he did. Even if it was just my part.

I was on my way home, back to my uncle’s house. I had so many fond memories of that old farmhouse. Like my first bath, my first performance out in the lawn I walked through. It felt more apparent now than ever, how far I’d come as a performer.

It was late, he was asleep. He said I should tell him about it when he awoke in the morning. In an alternate reality, I knew he would have watched the play, but the admission was too high for commoners like us.

Instead, I crept into my room, down in the cellar. The wooden stairs creaked, but I knew how to soften my steps to reduce the sound. It was cold down here, brick lined the wall, hardly insulated, but still better than stone.

A small basin rested against the wall made of sheet metal. We were lucky to have running water out here, most people had to use a well. Ice cold water flowed out as I turned the tap. I paused for a moment, flinching as I wet my face, washing off the white makeup. It took several cold wet splashes and some rubbing to get it all off, but eventually a warm towel graced my face and I could rest easy.

I beelined to the bed, my mind set on sleep, and slumped down into the mattress, my eyes growing weary, but my heart fluttering with joy as my soul drifted off to sleep.

The sun began to hit my eyes, it was brighter than ever before, blinding almost.

It’s rays stunned me as I sat up, the warmth of the mattress so soothing that I wanted to stay in bed for the rest of the day.

I flipped the blanket off, eyes now closed and bathing in the sun’s heat. It felt great to be alive.

I then opened my eyes. My bed was in the middle of a forest.

And that wasn’t the strangest part.

“Oh, you’re awake, Jenkins! Glad I didn’t have to disturb you!”