Circus chapter 2 -

Chapter 2:

"Matthew Smith, wake up!" A voice yelled. "Quickly, your shift will start soon."

"I'm up, I'm up," Matt groaned as he raised a hand to rub at his eyes, the next thirty or so seconds were spent with him trying to will his body out of bed. He felt his body shiver as he removed his blanket, letting the cold air crash into him. He coughed as he shoved his blanket off of his body, he managed to chuck his legs off the edge of the bed and sit up. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and stared around the room, taking in the dark grey walls and dull brown floors of his room. He recalled asking Mr Speaker if he could colour up the room, Mr Speaker had told him that he could not, though far less politely than he should have done.

A yawn escaped his mouth as he stood up and dragged himself to the bathroom, after relieving his bladder he walked over to the bathroom sink where he began to clean his hands and teeth, taking the opportunity to check his reflection in the mirror.

His short black hair was mostly flat, not counting the front part, though that could be taken care of with a comb and some water. At the back of his head, there was a small bit of hair that would nearly always stand up unless he took a minute to force it to stay down with hair products, but given the amount of money he possessed, he didn't really want to waste it on hair product. Fortunately, winter allowed him an excuse to wear a hat, something that gave him an excuse for his hair not being perfect.

"Hurry up!" A voice, the same one from earlier, called.

"Coming!" Matt snapped, sending toothpaste out of his mouth and onto the sink, looking up at the mirror in front of him. He saw his pale face staring back at him, his eyes were a common shade of brown, he didn't consider himself to be very handsome, especially in the morning time, though if he had to rate himself on his looks then he'd say 'not bad'. A quick bit of mouthwash later, he had finished his morning ritual and had quickly rushed over to put on his work clothes, an old pair of black tracksuit trousers, a grey shirt and a white woolly jumper to keep himself warm. To top it all off he made sure to add on his grey coat too. "Working in winter should be illegal." He muttered as he put on a woolly grey hat.

He left his room and quickly rushed down the hallway and down old pair of wooden stairs stairs which lead to the reception area, standing by the receptionist's booth was a short white table with one container of food on top of it, next to it was a plump woman in a white nurse's uniform. Her hair done up in a bun, her flabby arms crossed, her left foot tapping impatiently as a disapproving look took up her round face.

"Matthew Smith!" She glared at him, Matt stifled a groan at hearing her first thing in the morning. His last name wasn't even Smith, it was just a random name that the orphanage had chosen for him, but she still insisted on using his full name every time she addressed him, he suspected so she could annoy him. He didn't know what his full name was, but he always had the feeling that it wasn't Smith.

"Yes, Mrs Roberts?" He asked patiently.

"I've called you twice, boy," She scowled. "Next time I will not make such an effort and you can miss work, the rest of your lot are waiting on the bus." 'You're lot' was often how Mrs Roberts referred to the other orphans staying here. "You'll be late, honestly, I can't wait for you to turn of age and leave here permanently. Now, take your food and go."

"Yes, Mrs Roberts," Matt nodded robotically before taking the food and walking towards the door.

"Honestly, if your parents could be bothered to stay around long enough to do their jobs then I wouldn't have to deal with you miserable troublemakers." She couldn't help but add. "I don't know what past sin I have committed that was so heinous for me to be put in with you lot, but whatever it is, I repent dearly."

Matt opened the door before turning back to look at Mrs Roberts who was still glaring at him. "And how is Mr Roberts doing?" He asked in a curious voice.

"You know full well that my husband died ten years ago," She snapped at him.

"He had enough of you as well, eh?" Matt asked before rushing out the door, ignoring her calling after him. Once out of the building he found himself assaulted by the frosty bites of winter, his steps slowed down straight away as the snow introduced itself to his feet. He saw the dreary looking grey bus waiting at the end of the drive, he took in a small breath before walking down towards it, climbing up through the open doors.

"You're late, Boy," The bus driver, a gruff looking man with a brown beard and scruffy brown shoulder length hair, told him before he could utter a word.

"By about two minutes," Matt pointed out.

"Late is still late," The man grunted as the doors closed behind Matt. "Now, take your seat, we're moving."

"As your majesty commands," Matt muttered before walking down to the end of the bus, getting a few greetings from the others before he took the right corner seat all the way at the back, sitting next to a sixteen-year old boy with thin blonde hair, big front teeth and an odd pattern of freckles on his skinny face. On his right wrist was a silver and bulky looking wrist-band, one that a couple of others on the bus shared and one that everyone knew meant that he should not be allowed near 'members of polite society', thankfully for Ken, none of the other orphans were considered polite society, most not even considered polite.

"Late night, Matt?" He asked.

"Early night, Ken, I just couldn't sleep properly." Matt grunted.

"I heard you can get some medicine for that," Ken said, offering what he clearly saw as life-changing and incredibly valuable wisdom.

"Whose going to pay for it? Your dad?" Matt asked sarcastically. "Nah, I'll just get over it."

"I can't believe they're making a big fuss over two minutes," A boy in the seat in front of Matt said as he looked behind his seat at him.

"I can't believe I got out of bed," Matt replied causing the boy to chuckle.

"I heard you'll be leaving us this year," Ken had a thoughtful expression. "Is that true?"

"I'm eighteen now, aren't I?" Matt shrugged. "They're not going to be letting me stay here much longer. Reckon I got till I'm about nineteen before they give me the boot."

"Give him the boot!" One girl in the middle of the bus cheered, causing everyone to join in. "Boot! Boot! Boot! Boot!" Matt laughed alongside Ken just before the driver of the bus had to remind everyone he was there.

"Quiet!" The bus driver snapped. "Anymore noise and I turn this bus around."

"Then you don't get paid, remember?" A boy near the front snorted.

"At least you'll be out of here," Ken told him, ignoring the argument that was going on up front. "You going to still be working at the factory once you're gone?"

"Maybe," Matt hummed whilst rubbing his eyes. "It's not like I have many more jobs lined up."

"I'm going to save up enough money to buy a house, then I'm going to save up my money and buy another house and rent that out till I can save up more money and buy more houses." Ken said proudly.

"Good luck with that," Matt said dryly before closing his eyes and leaning his head back into his seat. He didn't really want to say anything but he very much doubted that Ken's idea would come to pass, the prices of houses were going up nearly every year and Ken wasn't currently making enough money to afford one. None of them were. The factory paid them minimum wage, a lot of which went to the orphanage, leaving them with less than half of it left.

The journey to the factory passed by relatively peacefully, with Matt taking the time to enjoy the view. He rather thought that the snow improved the general look, without it most of the buildings would look stale. The many layers of snow hid everything besides the general shape of the buildings and car. The leaves from the trees were gone, leaving just big brown trunks.

"Alright," The bus driver said as the bus finally stopped. "Here's where we part for several beautiful hours, thank the universe."

"We will, mate." A girl scoffed as they all began pilling out.

"Another day in paradise," A boy whined as they finally got off.

Matt sighed as he took a look at the factory in front of him, not for the first time had he wondered how he got here. He looked at the two storey building, the logo of the factory was placed proudly on top of its dull, grey face. Next to the car park was a small bike shelter outside of it was a small section for smoking. He followed the others, walking to the metal wall that connected to two different doors which made up the entrance. Two guards in dark blue uniforms were positioned on each door, strapped to their belts were metal sticks, a taser gun and a regular gun. The two door entrances were separated by a wired fence that travelled in-between them.

"This is where we part ways unfortunately," Ken said in a dramatic voice. "I shall miss you greatly."

"And I you," Matt returned with a roll of his eyes. "Come on, let's go, neither of us want the managers jumping down our throats." He told him before he walked over to the right entrance while Ken headed towards the entrance on the left along with a few others that were also wearing the same wrist-bands, walking under a sign that said 'MAGES'.

"Hurry it up," One of the guards guarding the 'Mage' line said, pulling out his stick and tapping a button on it, causing the top to start glowing with electricity. He waved it warningly at Ken and the others.

"Leave 'em alone, man," One guy in Matt's line called out. "They ain't done, nothin' to no one."

"They're going slow!" The same guard all but shouted.

"Because you'd shoot them if they run, Turnip-Head." Matt called out.

"What you call me?!" The guard demanded angrily.

"Turnip-Head!" Everyone in the right line, including Matt, cheered.

"It's too early in the morning for this," The other guard on the 'Mage' line sighed. "Newbie, calm yourself, the rest of you, keep going in an orderly fashion, now."

"Orderly fashion!" Someone on the back of Matt's line yelled.

"Orderly!" The line cheered together. "Orderly, orderly!" They chanted repeatedly as they walked through the entrance, the mage line continuing at a more sedate pace. "Orderly! Orderly!"

"What's that?!" One of the girls blurted out.

All pairs of eyes looked towards the next building, a couple of white ambulances were parked in the next building, a group of first responders were carrying what appeared to be a large, fur covered man of some sort to one of the ambulances.

"It must be a minotaur, look at the horns poking out the sheet." Someone whispered.

"Best to keep quiet then," The irritable guard said, his face now forming a cocky grin. "You all might be next."

Not too long later, Matt found himself in the locker room, placing his jumper and coat on a coat hanger before removing his shoes and swapping them with the plain, round, white pair he had taken out from his locker along with the white hard-hat helmet he had to wear. After placing his shoes inside the locker, he put on the white pair and his hat before walking out of the locker room, and walking down the beige hallway to the uniform room. Taking a pair of white work trousers and a white work jacket from the polish woman that was working there today, he put them on before heading down into the work section. Robotically, he clocked into work before following procedures and giving his hands a wash, taking up the maximum amount of time he could take to do so without getting in trouble.

"Matt," The supervisor called out to him. "Today, you need to be in the mixing area. Johnny's on holiday."

"Okay, got it," Matt nodded before walking towards the mixing area.

"Alright, Lad," A voice called before an older, taller man started walking next to him.

"Alright, Stu," Matt greeted him. "How you doing?"

"Not bad, not bad," Stu hummed. "And yourself?"

"Surviving," Matt shrugged.

"As you should be, Lad, as you should," Stu said approvingly. "You see what happened next door?"

"You mean a body being carried out? Kind of hard to miss,"

"Certainly a good way to work everyone up," Stu commented as they walked past several workers that appeared to be working with more gusto than usual. "So, Trickster, anything new up?"

"Do you have to call me 'Trickster'?" Matt rolled his eyes. "I don't go around calling you Stuart, do I?"

"That's cause you're too lazy to add the extra three letters," Stu scoffed amusedly. "Besides, you earn your name. Hubbard's got another tournament going on tonight, you going to be entering?"

"I just might," Matt said thoughtfully. "You?"

"Nah, that's for you young pups, I'm past that now." Stu said with a small shake of his head. "I'm old."

"You're forty,"

"And after years of working in this place, my spine is older than your granddad's grandad's ex."

"I will have you know that my grandfather's were all honourable and smart men who had only ever been married to one woman." Matt said firmly.

"How would you know?" Stu snorted. "You don't even know your mum's name."

"Neither do you," Matt pointed out.

"That's because my dad married four times, not because I had never met her," Stu reminded him. "I've met her, there's just some confusion on which one she actually is."

"Your dad was lout," Matt said bluntly.

"You sound like my sixth step-sister,"

"She a smart one?"

"Well, she disagrees with me on practically everything, so yeah, pretty smart."