"What do you mean 'this isn't appropriate attire?' When were we supposed to wear fancy stuff?" Jo complained to the front door host. "I'm an athlete; I literally just came from the opening ceremony!" Was it not obvious from what she was wearing?!

"It was most clearly said zhat we 'ave a code for our establishment, mademoiselle. Everyone else 'as changed zheir outfit," the host, a tall and thin Frenchman, pointed out passive aggressively. "Apologies."


"Got the place all to myself at least while I find something to wear to this stupid outing…I don't even like Italian food," Jo grumbled as she scoured her luggage for anything that was remotely formal.

She had packed endless pairs of Team Canada sweatpants, t-shirts, hoodies, everything. Her mother, however, who had asked to be on call when she was getting ready to leave, had suggested she bring a dress. "For the interviews," she'd claimed in her matter of fact, stony way of speaking.

Jo cringed when she pulled out the red number she'd hastily stuffed into the bottom of her suitcase. It had wrinkled on the flight, looking very unattractive in her hands. She knew it wouldn't look good on her, but she bit the bullet and tried it on anyway. "Don't be a wuss, it's just a piece of fabric-" she told herself as she slid it on over her muscular shoulders and the dress bunched at her more pronounced hips. It was straight cut, so every little bump and curve was noticeable, to her at least.

She felt itchy with the fabric grating up against her skin. "Fuck, I hate this so much," she gritted her teeth as she threw on an inappropriate-for-the-weather jacket. She hadn't packed heels, nor did she own any, so running sneakers would have to do; the snobs at the restaurant would feel her fist in their face if they didn't let her in again. She ran her fingers through her hair a couple times since her brush was still buried in her bag somewhere and it wasn't that tangled anyways.

She trudged her way back to the spot where every red-leafed athlete in London was still congregating. The host raised an eyebrow at her but was cordial as was his duty. "Come on in." He gestured and she shot him a dirty look before scanning the room for a place to sit. Most everyone had already started eating; her teammates were mostly clustered in the far corner.

She pulled up a chair from a different table that someone was definitely using because it had a sweater hanging off the back. She ignored this fact and sat down silently, trying to catch whatever vapid conversation was going on. The background chatter was so Canadian she could've sworn she smelled maple syrup in the air. It also made it harder to focus on what was being said. She caught snippets of 'Jamaica' 'fast' 'world record' and 'would you like to order, miss?'. She had refused to take her jacket off despite the boiling temperature in the room from so much breathing and eating of piping warm food. The dress pinched at the unshaven hairs on her legs as she shifted to at least try and be comfortable.

"Excuse me, um, that's my chair…"

Jo gritted her teeth, turning sharply at whoever thought she would give a shit-oh, it was that Sky chick from the plane. "Sorry, flippy, you snooze you lose. This is my chair now." She absentmindedly pulled her jacket further over her chest. I can't think of new nicknames in these conditions, damnit.

"Oh…can I least have my sweater back?" Sky asked politely. Her purple dress looked great on her; she wore it with ease.

"Sure, I don't care about that thing," Jo replied with mild irritation, grabbing it off the back and tossing it to her.

"Thanks…I guess." Sky caught it and put it over her arm. "That's a nice dress you're wearing, I don't think I've ever seen you in something like that…I mean, on the show you always wore sweats-"

For some reason the compliment made her feel worse. "What did I tell you on the plane? Don't bring that show up with me. And they wouldn't let me in wearing my normal clothes," Jo said with suppressed anger as she pointed at her. "I would never wear this trash bag willingly!"

"So why not wear something else? Or did you not bring any formalwear but that…oh, that's probably what happened, huh," Sky figured. "You know this is the Olympics, right?"

"Exactly! Why wouldn't I be expected to wear athletic clothes? I didn't bust my ass for years to get here just to be told what I wear isn't 'appropriate'. I get enough of that talk back home."

"Jo, pass me a napkin, will ya?" one of her teammates, who was sat next to her, asked politely. "I've used mine up already."

Jo smacked her unused napkin down. "Here," she said without switching the tone of her voice out of frustration. "I'm starving, where'd that waiter go?" she wondered, looking around.

Sky took that as her cue to go elsewhere. She removed her phone from her sweater pocket and dialed a number, having less interest in conversing with the people around her by the second. "Hey, Jasmine, you still awake? I know the jet lag hit you like a freighter, but this party is getting boring." She nodded as a strongly accented voice came through the other end. "Yeah, she's actually right here, but I don't think she'd be cool if I asked her to get on the phone…we've only talked a couple times and she's, well…" She glanced down at Jo, who was getting her order filled by a tired looking waiter. "Difficult."

"You talking about me, beam breaker?" Jo sensed she was being discussed quite literally behind her back.

Sky eyed her from above, taking her phone off her ear to hold next to her chest. "Oh, I have this friend; she's here to cheer for her sibling on the Australian team. I mentioned to her that, well…y'know."

"What?"

"That…you were also here."

"Why? She a fan of my athletic prowess? Perhaps saw me at Trials and thought 'damn, she can run!'" Jo asked hopefully. Hey, maybe she had a fan other than her mom and a guy who was in literal prison.

"Um…not quite?" Sky replied awkwardly. "I'm sorry, she was a fan of you…before."

Oh.

Wait.

Really?!

"Huh." She didn't know how to feel about that. "I…guess if she's an actual fan, I mean-" she cleared her throat. "I totally have plenty of fans out there who loved me on the thing-we-don't-discuss! Could give her a voice memo, or, something…" Lying through her teeth, she wasn't going to admit how few fans she knew of back then, being one of the more publicly despised cast members according to the fan site that creep psycho bitch Sierra ran. She hadn't gone into it hoping to be well liked, of course, she'd played to win, but the fame was supposed to come with adoration, regardless.

That's how she'd thought it worked, anyways.

Teenagers could be a bit stupid.

"Sorry, Jasmine, I'm still here. Yes, tell him I said good luck with his swimming!" Sky went back to her conversation with a small smile. "And I think she might actually give you a moment of her very precious time to talk." Pause. She carefully offered the phone to Jo. "She just got off the plane today from Australia, so be nice," she said tightly.

"I'm always nice to my fans, tiny, don't you worry," Jo replied with a scoff as she put the phone to her ear. "Yello?"

"Crikey, I wasn't expectin' Sky to actually get ya on the line!" The Australian on the other end sounded mildly energetic. Excited, even. Huh.

"What can I say, I'm unpredictable. Never know what I might do," Jo replied cooly. "Sky said you…were a fan."

"Strong word, that, but you were right entertaining. Could do without all the putting others in mortal peril, but hey, I ain't one to knock." Jasmine chuckled, then yawned. "Was a bit disappointed you didn't make it far the second go, but maybe that was for the better, what with how it turned out- "

"Okay, let's make one thing clear: I did what I had to to win. I was an over-confident teenager and I wasn't gonna let anybody stand in my way. That's what you have to do when you compete!" Jo interrupted, her hand tightening around the phone. "And please, if you don't mind, I'd really prefer you not bring that up in any more detail-"

"Sorry, my mistake. I don't like talkin' much 'bout my time there either."

"Ya still there? I swear this London phone service ain't what we paid for, can't yabber on the line all day-"

"Are you okay? You look a little stunned," Sky asked Jo quietly; she had gone silent, looking up and barely taking a breath. "Jo!"

Jo smacked her own face as if this had happened before. "Feet on the ground," she told herself, planting her sneakers firmly on the floor. She took a deep breath in and out. "I'm fine." She put the phone back to her ear. "My food's on the way so I can't waste anymore time on the phone."

"Aight, won't keep ya too long then. It was a bit wild hearing you talkin' right to me after seeing you on camera so much, this was real sweet o' you to do. And good luck chasin' that gold!"

The smallest trace of a smile passed over Jo's lips. "Anything for a fan," she said nonchalantly. "Giving you back to Clouds over here, now." She pushed the phone towards Sky.

"'Clouds?' Seriously?" Sky asked, confused as she took her phone back. "Your other nicknames made way more sense."

Jo shrugged. "Sky, clouds, same difference."

"Your meal, miss, please enjoy," the waiter made himself known as he placed her food in front of her.

"'Bout time!" Jo complained, quickly digging into the large pasta dish she'd ordered because most of the menu involved pasta and carbs were good for the soul. "You can beat it now," she told Sky, ignoring her exit to go find some other place to sit.

She didn't see her photo being taken from across the room.