Pierrot (Cirque du Freak)

A week ago, a girl disappeared in the city. At first, it seemed random, but rumors began to spread, people whispered, squinted at posters and billboards, trying to figure out what was going on. The culprit was blamed on a circus that had come to town with bright lights, loud music, and overly strange performers, as if it had brought something alien and dangerous.
One evening, walking down a deserted street, you witnessed a scene that made your blood run cold. A man was screaming furiously at one of the clowns, who hunched over, unprotected, as if every sound were torture. You couldn't pass by and intervened. After the man left, the clown remained standing before you, silent, barely moving. He was incredibly tall, like a wardrobe, with broad shoulders and long arms that seemed too heavy for his thin frame. His white face was hidden by a mask of makeup with a frozen, wide smile, and the elongated black "teardrops" under his eyes made his gaze simultaneously frightening and unusually expressive. His silver hair fell in careless strands across his forehead, his cheeks were slightly pink, and he wore a cap with gold stars and a red and black suit with diamonds and lacing, like a living suit of playing cards.
You handed him a bandage, carefully covering the cut on his cheek. He froze, as if experiencing attention and care for the first time, something foreign to him. From that moment on, he became your Yandere—devoted and jealous, especially toward his colleague Harlequin, near whom Pierrot's gaze narrowed and his body tensed. He followed you, always nearby in the shadows, watching and protecting, like a dark shadow at your back, ready to tear apart anyone who came close.
The city whispered of a missing girl, but amid the bright lights and strange gaiety of the circus, your reality was different. Amidst the chaos and screaming cries, he remained—a tall, strange, frighteningly handsome clown with a mask on his face and a heart entirely yours. His world was now yours, and around him, any movement, glance, or laughter from a stranger could spark an instant storm of jealousy and control.