Jurrien Lauda, District Three male (18)

My daughter was something purely good in my complicated and fractured life. She was so small she could still fit in my crooked arm, though she seemed bigger every hour. She smiled when she saw me, which had been more often lately, since Domani had been busy so I'd had the chance to get even more quality time with my daughter. She just thought of me as her father- an unbelievably strong and protective guardian who cared for her and played with her. She was too little to know what I'd done to her future.

Neiya squirmed and I gently moved her hand to the side when she reached toward the stovetop. I was frying eggs for me and Domani since she'd been out late last night and was sleeping in. It probably seemed awkward to most people, someone's ex-boyfriend watching their child as his former lover went out on dates. It wasn't like that, really. Domani and I didn't work out but we still cared about each other, and of course we cared about Neiya. Domani deserved to have someone who was better for her than I was. My only regret was that when she found someone I wouldn't be able to stay over anymore.

Domani came out of the bedroom, stretching her arms and yawning. I passed over Neiya so she could fuss over her while I scooped out the eggs.

"If I stay over here any longer I suppose I should pay rent," I joked.

"You cook and take care of Neiya. It's not like you're a freeloader," Domani responded.

"I guess. But I'm getting replaced soon so I better get ready." It wasn't passive-aggressive and Domani knew me well enough to know that. It was just... there was a sad, lingering sense of impending separation that got worse every day. These were the last few weeks I would spend with Domani and Neiya before Domani permanently moved on and I would know I had finally missed my last chance. I wanted Domani to have someone who deserved her. I just wished that was me.

"Neiya will always need her father," Domani said gently. "No matter what happens, I'm glad we have her tying us together."

That was it, wasn't it? Always together but never connecting. I always told myself how much I wanted to make things work with Domani but I never actually committed. Domani knew it was time to move on but somehow the dates never turned out. We were both still waiting to put together the pieces that would never make a whole.

It could have been different so easily. All my life people had told me I was a genius. School had always come easily to me and things just seemed to make sense to me. I could see the patterns that led to a solution and I could see the solution, no matter how tangential or obscure it seemed. I'd learned, though, that intelligence did not equal judgment. Every time I saw the phone on Domani's wall I was reminded of the moment I lost everything. I was smart enough to get a scholarship to the Capitol. Smart enough that my parents trusted me with their dearly-won savings. But I wasn't smart enough to see a scam. One moment I was waiting for a return on an investment that would have set all of us for life. The next I was coming to terms with the fact that everything was gone. Every last penny. No matter how hard I worked, no matter that I left my scholarship behind and came home to support my parents, I would never be able to get back what I'd lost. Not the money and not my future with Domani.

There's a special pain to be had when all your problems are your own fault. There's even more regret when you know that no matter what you did, people are still ready to forgive you but you shrink away. Every time Domani came home from one of her dates I held my breath, and every time so far she'd casually said it hadn't worked out. Each time I saw the weight in her look. She was waiting for me to say she didn't need to date anymore, that we could try again and we could make this work. But every time I pulled away. It was going to happen again in a few minutes when I asked Domani how her night went. I already knew what I should do and I already knew I wasn't going to do it.

Theta Faraday, District Three female (17)

Something just had to interrupt the dream. I was all lost in swirling colors and blurring noises when something shook the world around me so violently my eyes opened a crack.

"Theta! Theta!"

The sunlight burned as I squinted out at the noise. Through the glass of the car window I saw a very unwelcome face. For most people that would probably be an obnoxious ex or maybe a disgruntled drug dealer. I had both of those things but the person outside the car was someone far worse: my father.

I rolled over onto my stomach, pushing the coat I'd draped over the window to the side to better block my father's glaring face. I groaned as he doubled his efforts, pounding on the window until he rocked the car and made my stomach churn.

I unlocked the door and shoved it partly open. "What? What do you want?" I asked.

"Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere!" my father demanded, his voice already raising in volume.

"Everywhere but three blocks away from our house, apparently. Maybe you were looking so hard it took you a year and a half to get that far?" I sat up and braced myself on the side of the seat as the world lurched around me. One of my favorite parts of getting high was how surreal it made everything. I could leave this whole world behind and I honestly didn't care what my new world looked like, as long as it wasn't this one. I giggled as my father's face rippled and his expression went from anger to outrage.

"You're using again," he said.

"And I suppose you care. Because it's such an embarrassment that your daughter would rather pop a tab than have to think about you for one single second. Yes, why does everything bad have to happen to you?" I sneered.

Cold wetness splashed all over my face and I gasped. I wiped at my face while my father put the cap back on the water bottle he'd thrown all over me.

"Better now? Maybe capable of using your brain again?" my father asked bitterly. I swore at him and yanked the door. My father snaked out his arm and blocked it before I could lock it and shut him out.

"Can you stop thinking about yourself for one single second? Maybe there's a reason I was looking for you instead of letting you throw your life away?" he asked.

"Gee, I thought maybe it was because you loved your daughter," I said. Really freaking rich how Dad thought he had any shred of credit with me. He'd barely spent an hour with me since I was born- he and Mom. I'd never bothered to tell them, since I didn't think they cared, but when I thought of the word 'mother' it was my nanny's face I saw. When I thought of 'father'? Nothing. I couldn't even picture my father's face for most of my childhood.

Dad made an almost adorable attempt to sound sympathetic. "We need to get your home. Your mother's dying."

"Thanks for the good news. I'll send a sympathy card," I said, trying in vain to throw off his arm so I could slam the door.

"Damn it, Theta! For once, act like an adult. We have a legacy. Do you even understand that? Someone needs to run the company when I retire. You've sponged off our work all your life. Get back and pull your weight."

I shoved the door toward my father and clambered out of the car, my voice rising with every word. "Act like an adult? Carry on the 'family legacy'? If adults act like you, I'd rather die. I didn't ask to be born in this family, if you can call it that. Funny you never wanted me in seventeen years. You know for some of those I actually loved you, before I realized I was just a footnote in your life? Now you have the balls to come out here and tell me to do my part? I changed my mind. I won't be sending a card. When Mom kicks it I'll call. Collect."

By the end of it I was full-on screaming. If we hadn't been in crime alley, where people could get murdered while passersby walked around the blood puddle, someone might have cared.

Dad grabbed my arm. "You're making a scene," he hissed as he started dragging me toward his car.

"Good. I'm about to make a bigger one."

Jurrien: Jurrien is of Dutch and Surinamese descent. He has medium-toned black skin and has slightly overgrown hair due to negligence in cutting and maintaining it. He's 5'8" and is fairly skinny although recently he's beginning to grow a small gut. He has some unmaintained stubble that he's experimenting with, and he has deep brown eyes.

Theta: Her faceclaim is a model named Giza Lagarce. She stands at 5 feet and 3 inches tall and has a rather slender build. She tries (yet fails) to look as physically intimidating as possible, and loathes how short she is. Theta's knees tend to be bruised or at the very least scratched up from falling to the ground dramatically for the sake of proving a point.

The 5f is on the way so it's just the 1f unaccounted for. TRACEY if you're reading, I have you written down for a 1F. Is that right? It's okay if it's just taking a while- I'm just checking that I have the right person written down