tw: brief abuse in the second pov
Callum Cadogan, 17
District One Male, he/him
From what Callum could tell, there were less than two hours left on the clock, and he was growing more nervous by the second. The grass beneath him was beginning to itch, but he couldn't get up yet. His gaze was pinned on something in the distance, though he periodically had to duck his head to make sure he wasn't spotted by his target.
This year, the candidates had been split up into two teams for their final challenge to simulate a hunting scenario. Callum knew that this was to hopefully facilitate better teamwork in the future - or, at least, to get the trainees to realize that pairing off in the Games was probably not a good idea. They needed to learn how to watch each other's backs, especially when the threats in the Arena were particularly… convincing.
The main twist of this was that it was almost impossible to tell who was actually on your side and who wasn't. They'd all been given groups at the beginning, but, as always, backstabbing was highly encouraged. In the Games, it was kill or be killed.
Callum still hadn't quite figured out the twist of this challenge. For a bunch of cutthroat One kids, it seemed simple enough: hunt down whoever you can find no matter whose side they're on. But if that was the case, then why split them into teams in the first place? Maybe it was more of an exercise in learning who you could and couldn't trust. Either way, Callum was keeping an eye on things from a distance. It was the least he could do.
Callum had chosen his vantage point carefully; he wasn't within the boundaries of the examination, so he wouldn't get in trouble if he was caught. Callum wasn't a particular fan of lying, so he made sure to plan this extensively to prepare himself in case he got caught. It wasn't uncommon for kids to try and sneak a peek of the proceedings, but they usually got sent back home quickly. The main difference here was that Callum wasn't a trainee. Nothing he learned here would help him in the future.
He heard branches crack, and then distant yelling as the fighting started. Callum raised up to sneak another peek, nodding to himself as he realized his plan had worked. He knew that Rhydian would be largely on his own for this particular examination - he had the biggest target on his back, after all. If there was anyone that was likely to get betrayed by his own teammates, it would be Rhydian.
And the funny thing was, he wouldn't even see it coming.
That's where Callum came in. He'd scouted out the field beforehand - he was getting rather good at eavesdropping on conversations - and he'd laid more than a few traps. Trap wasn't quite the word Callum was looking for; really, he'd laid down a few things to make noise to alert someone that they weren't alone. It would sound as casual as a twig snapping, and considering this batch of trainees was particularly stealthy, he didn't want to run the risk of Rhydian getting surprised by a group of them. The key to this, though, was the fact that Callum himself was in control of setting them off. If he left it up to chance, then there was the possibility that he could take Rhydian down too.
(Briefly, Callum considered his actions again. He'd spent his entire past week spying on the evaluations, trying to help out where he could. Callum had never been one for getting his hands dirty, but he knew this would make Rhydian beyond pleased. He'd still earn the right to volunteer all on his own - Callum was just leveling the playing field.)
(Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, the one thing Callum valued more than almost anything in the world was his friend's happiness.)
Callum heard the sound of fighting begin to quiet down, likely as kids began to get eliminated. This was the last challenge of the week, so it was also their last chance to prove themselves. Whoever had been caught in that group, they certainly hadn't entered the fight fully prepared, and now they were paying the price for it. Granted, Callum was the one to sabotage whatever plan they'd been going along with, but still. You always had to stay on your toes in a place like this. Callum may not have been trained, but he knew that much.
He carefully clambered to his feet, stretching his arms up over his head. That was probably enough sabotage for the day. If he hurried back, he could still make it to the area where the rest of their friends were grouped together to wait for Rhydian.
"What are you doing out here?"
Callum blinked, pasting a grin on his face and placing his hands behind the back as if that would proclaim his innocence. But as soon as he did, he froze, very clearly recognizing the two people that had spotted him.
"Who are you?" Alila Perwane asked, squinting at Callum.
Beside her, Estelle Duvont just laughed. "I need to take you around the training center more often. This is Callum, one of Rhydian's friends."
"We aren't friends," Callum insisted.
"What are you doing out here, then?" Alila folded her arms, glancing around the area nervously as if watching for something. Callum looked around as well, trying to determine if he'd been spotted by anyone else. The coast seemed clear, but when he turned back, Estelle was peering at him with an unreadable gaze.
"I'm, uh… just passing through?" he tried, wincing to himself as he heard the falseness in his own voice.
The two Victors stared at him long enough to make Callum's smile falter. Estelle cracked a smile, placing her hands on her hips. "It's not as if he's here right now, Callum. You can spare a few nice words, surely? He's been doing very well in all the challenges - I imagine you're quite proud of him."
"... Fine, maybe I was here to support him," Callum conceded, figuring that was close enough to the truth.
"You're lucky that no one else caught you out here," Alila said, frowning. "They don't like it when younger trainees see what evaluations are like."
"Oh, it'll be fine! He's not a trainee, after all." Estelle brushed her off with a wave. "And besides, some elements remain pretty constant through the years, but enough changes that it's not a big deal if he tells anyone."
"You're letting him off too easy."
"It's not as if he's done anything."
Callum blinked as innocently as he could, watching the two of them go back and forth for a few moments. His palms were starting to sweat, but if they hadn't caught on to what he was doing yet, hopefully he was in the clear. This would all be for nothing if he ruined Rhydian's chances of volunteering at all.
(But even as Callum watched the two bicker like old friends, there was something else bothering him. He'd always known that Victors never come out the same, but being face to face with the two most recent ones… well, he found himself catching onto their mannerisms. The way Alila seemed hesitant to show a smile. The way that Estelle stood a little too close, talked a little too loud. He hadn't known either of them before, but there was something off about each one. He wondered if the call of the Games truly did last beyond their duration.)
(And then he thought of Rhydian, the person he loved most in this world. Callum would do anything for him, do anything to make him happy. But now he was starting to have doubts about what would actually make his friend happy.)
"You should head back home, Callum," Estelle said, breaking his train of thought before he could think any longer. "I'd hate to see you get in trouble when you're just looking out for your friend."
The corner of Callum's mouth quirked up, and he nodded carefully. "I didn't mean to intrude. I guess… I guess I'm just worried."
"Well," Estelle hummed, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "according to rumors, you don't need to be worried."
"Estelle!" Alila hissed, gently swatting her arm. "You can't-"
Estelle looked pleased with herself, giving Callum a wink. "It's not like he can really do anything about it now. The week's practically over."
"Yes, but you're supposed to wait for the announcement!"
"Thank you," Callum said, cutting into the conversation that they were about to start having without him. "Really. I guess… I've just been so worried about the outcome…"
"There was no real need to worry," Estelle reassured him. "Sometimes evaluations can turn everything on its head, but Rhydian didn't appear to have much competition this week."
Of course he didn't. That's what Callum had been out here doing in the first place.
"So you think he'll be fine?" Callum asked, twisting his fingers behind his back.
"It's still not confirmed yet," Estelle said, studiously avoiding the dirty look Alila was giving her, "but I have no reason to believe otherwise."
"You're terrible at keeping secrets," Alila chided.
Estelle merely shrugged, still looking particularly smug. "Not much of a secret, huh? It's not like anyone knows what's going on with the girls this year, so having Rhydian will be a big help."
"I guess that's a fair point," Alila said slowly. She still looked conflicted though, and eventually her eyes shifted back to Callum. "You shouldn't be hearing this."
"It's not like I can really do anything about it now," he said, mimicking what Estelle told him earlier. "But thank you both."
"Anytime," Estelle said, flashing him another wink as she turned to go.
Callum stood still, watching Alila as she hesitated. Her expression was unreadable, but she continued to stare at him, as if trying to figure something out. Callum wasn't sure how perceptive she was, but he hoped it wasn't enough for her to catch on to what he'd been doing just moments before they arrived.
"You should leave now," she muttered, lowering her voice. "I heard Rhydian just got done, anyway."
"Really?" Callum asked, trying not to sound too excited. "And I can-"
"If anything, you might not want him to know what you've been up to."
"What I've-"
"Whether you've been helping behind the scenes or you're just a caring friend, it doesn't really matter to me. That's not my business anymore. But it's the end of a long week, and he just wants to see a familiar face."
It sounded as if she knew a thing or two about that, but Callum didn't particularly want to call her out on it. If anything, he didn't want to invite more questions. With Estelle gone, there was a weariness that had begun to sink into her features, and he knew that at this point she was just waiting for him to leave.
"Thank you," he said, unsure of how else to end the conversation.
She just nodded, already starting to turn away as well. As soon as her back was mostly to him, he swept an object off the ground, placing it swiftly in his pocket. He'd been hoping that it would go unnoticed throughout their conversation, and it looked like he was in the clear. He frowned at the broken clasp on his necklace, making a mental note to get that fixed later. At the very least, the pendant was still on, so he silently slipped it into his pocket. This was the only thing he had left of his father, and he couldn't lose that too.
Callum paused and looked back over his shoulder to the forest beyond. The corners of his mouth turned down, and his hands clenched into fists at his side. He took a moment to imagine that this was the Games, that Rhydian had gone out and fought and won and come back and…
And then what? And then everything changed? Even if Rhydian came back, would he come back the same?
Maybe Callum would lose him either way.
But even as the thought flashed across his mind, Callum knew that he couldn't stand to see it happen. One may have been an ugly place where corruption ran rampant, but it was safe for people like Rhydian Magnusson. If he went into the Games, they would tear him to shreds even if he survived. Especially if he survived.
The barest hints of a plan were forming in Callum's mind as he set off to reunite with his friends. There was a way for him to avoid that scenario. He could fix all of this.
And if that meant sacrificing himself along the way, Callum would do so without hesitation.
Svelte Rasa, 17
District Eight Male, he/him
From a certain vantage point, Svelte could see the entire world spread out before him.
Tonight, the city was dark. Lights glimmered all around him, reflecting off of puddles littering the streets. When Svelte glanced out from under his hood, he noticed it was still raining, the water rolling down his cheeks like tears. All around him, the slums of Eight called his name, trying to lure him further into their embrace. Svelte merely ducked his head once more, opting to keep moving for now.
His footsteps were silent as he darted across rooftops, making his way into the heart of the city. Svelte was on a mission - one he couldn't afford to fuck up - but he wasn't quite sure what he was looking for. Monsieur Vaurien wasn't exactly the best at picking up on information, which is where Svelte came in, but it started to grate on his nerves when he was sent out with minimal details and high expectations.
At least on nights like these, when it was dark and he was alone, Svelte could pretend that he was someone different. Someone with fewer restrictions, someone with freedom. He didn't like to dwell on those things too often - that made it hurt more when he was thrown back into reality - but sometimes it was nice to think about what he could do with his future if he had one. Vaurien would have his head if he knew Svelte was getting distracted in the middle of a mission, but for now Svelte didn't care.
He paused on one of the rooftops, crouching down so no one would think he was more than a dark shadow. The rain continued to fall around him, and Svelte knew that he'd be soaked to the bone by the time he got back. His shoes had a harder time gripping the shingles on the roof, so he placed a hand down to help steady himself. He hardly knew where he was, but that didn't matter right now. He was almost better off that way.
(For a moment, Svelte felt the overwhelming urge to get back up on his feet and dance with the rain. He could tilt his head back, let himself be swallowed whole by the dark sky above, and nothing else would matter.)
And, for a moment, Eight was endless. It held infinitely more possibilities than Svelte could even dream of. He could run away. Everything he owned was on his person, so it wasn't as if he was leaving anything behind. If he disappeared into the night, it was likely that no one would find him for quite a while.
It was the closest he ever got to being free. But he'd signed his life away years ago. Svelte didn't have much of a chance to get it back.
Last time he'd tried to pay off the contract, Vaurien had tripled the fee just as he'd gotten close. The most Svelte could do now was chip away at it again, hoping desperately that someday he'd be able to buy his way out. He never managed to convince himself that it was feasible. The last thing he wanted was to be disappointed again.
(It happened every time, after all. Svelte was no stranger to disappointment, to being let down. Maybe it was his fault for ever bothering to get his hopes up in the first place.)
He sighed quietly, taking a look around the area again. There were a few people in an alleyway a couple streets over, but he figured they were up to something rather unsavory that he didn't want to be a part of. Based on what he remembered hearing from Vaurien, he was on the lookout for someone that wanted to meet with one of the higher ups in the District. According to the rumors, they were trying to drag someone into rebel business, which is why Vaurien wanted to know about it. As the leader of the current largest band of rebels, Monsieur Vaurien made it his business to know about everything that was happening in the District.
(Or, at least, he made it Svelte's problem to figure it out for him.)
Still, that wasn't much information to go on. All Svelte could do was hide in the shadows and hope that the right people just happened to fall into his lap. If he got it wrong, or if he came back empty handed, he was sure to pay the price for it. Vaurien was not a particular fan of failure, so Svelte had little room for mistakes on a good day. He'd been sent out here on a whim with a show about to take place in a few hours, so this was already a bad day for Vaurien if he was that desperate for information.
Svelte shuddered and flexed his fingers, the rain beginning to chill him. Hopefully he'd be able to leave soon, otherwise he'd be too stiff to perform well. And even though Vaurien had been the one to send him out here, Svelte would be the one that got in trouble if he messed up later. He absentmindedly ran his thumb over a welt on the back of his hand, remembering what would be waiting for him if he came home with nothing to show for himself.
"I'm glad you were willing to meet with me," Svelte heard someone say, making his head snap up as he turned to follow the voice.
"This wasn't a willing meeting. You happened to run into me and now I'm happening to hear you out. Get to the point."
Svelte almost chuckled at the clear disinterest in the woman's voice. She sounded almost familiar, but Svelte couldn't put his finger on why. For now, he crept closer to the source of the conversation, trying to see if he could spot who was talking.
"You're in a mood today."
"I don't like it when people waste my time, which is what you're doing now."
"Fine! There are some people in the District that want you to-"
"No," she said flatly. "If you're about to ask me to get involved in something, the answer is no."
"C'mon, you're the only one that can help," they hissed.
Whoever they were talking to seemed particularly put out, which made Svelte's curiosity grow. "Help? Help how? I don't know what you think any of these groups do besides feed into the abject misery of this District. Don't you remember Teulu?"
"That was years ago."
"Even Two isn't safe. With the downfall of Styx, Peacekeepers are cracking down on their policies and-"
"Is that what this is about? You're upset that your little boyfriend is stuck up in Two because everything has gone to shit? Worry about your own District."
"That's not- he's not-"
By this point, Svelte would be a fool not to know whose conversation he was listening in on. Ariadne Valade was well known by everyone in the District - though, if anything, it was because of the way she constantly kept to herself. She was an enigma, and not the kind that many wanted to deal with; while she wasn't deliberately unkind, no one knew much about her. If anything, Svelte didn't know why anyone would try to drag her into rebel business when no one knew where her true loyalties were.
"Why can't you?" the other person demanded, voice beginning to rise. "You have the status and money to do whatever the hell you want."
"If you think that's true, then you're a goddamn fool," Ariadne spat. "But now that I know you and your business, you'd better learn how to watch your mouth."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's whatever you want it to be. Keep this in mind for the rest of your friends: leave me out of whatever it is you're doing. Don't try to find me again."
"You're a coward - worse, a Capitol bootlicker. Won't even help your own people anymore. Is that what it means to win?"
"I could have Peacekeepers on you in seconds. Walk away."
The other person spat out a few more bitter words that made even Svelte wince before they headed out. He stayed in his spot for several more seconds, waiting to hear Ariadne leave as well. When he didn't hear anything at all, he peeked over the edge of the roof and saw her muttering to herself. He listened intently, trying to figure out what she was saying, but she was too far away. At any rate, Svelte had gotten what he came here for, so he carefully got to his feet and silently darted away.
(He didn't know how it happened. Svelte was always light on his feet, always good at keeping his balance, but not this time. In his hurry, his feet slipped on the slick rooftop, and the last thing he saw was a glimpse of the dark sky above before-)
CRASH!
The cacophony rang out through the alley. Svelte's head spun as he tried to regain his bearings. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, and immediately paled when he saw that he managed to fall into several bins littering the alley he'd just been monitoring.
Ariadne Valade stared directly at him, her eyebrows raised in surprise. She seemed nervous to see him - and he wasn't surprised. He figured he was a sight now, with his hair a mess and trash scattered around him. His hood had fallen down, and he knew that she could very well recognize him as well. The star performer of the Bizarre wasn't exactly a well known figure, but he wasn't completely out of the public spotlight either. If he got caught here, then Vaurien's entire operation could get taken down and Svelte would be the cause for it. He'd never be able to go anywhere in the District again. Vaurien would have his goddamn head.
He opened his mouth as if to plead his case, but Ariadne held a finger up to her lips and he stopped short. She scrutinized him for a second, eyes taking in his fallen form. Svelte stayed still, watching as she tilted her head to the side as if listening to something. "It's nothing," she said aloud, and a shudder ran down Svelte's spine as he realized he wasn't the only one listening to that conversation. "Stray cat knocked over some bins."
Svelte wisely kept silent as he carefully extracted himself from the trash cans. His left hip had caught the brunt of the fall, and while he hadn't broken anything, he still winced as he put weight on that leg. He could feel the weight of Ariadne's gaze on him all the while, and he just hoped that he wouldn't end up like whoever she'd just been talking to.
"Why would I lie?" Ariadne continued, still keeping her voice low. "It's been years and you still can't trust me, huh? I got you the information you needed. I just want to be left out of this shit."
Even though she was clearly conversing with whoever was on the other side of the line, she made direct eye contact with Svelte throughout. Svelte nodded slowly, trying not to appear visibly in pain as he limped a couple steps towards her. He wasn't sure how else to convey that he got her message.
"Leave them alone," she breathed. "Swear to me."
I swear, Svelte mouthed, waiting for her to nod back at him. When she did, Svelte made his way to the front of the alley, keeping his distance from her the whole time. Her voice got quieter once more as she continued her conversation, left alone in the dark and rainy streets of Eight.
Svelte had no idea what to do with the last part he'd overheard, but he knew he had to keep it to himself. He wasn't one to trust others easily; Svelte felt sure that Ariadne could very well send Peacekeepers after him as soon as he left. But… well, it's not like there was anything he could do about the situation except leave and hope for the best.
(And oh, what a silly word hope was. Svelte could hope for many things in his life, but he doubted anything would ever come true for him. He didn't even know if it would be a bad thing for him to get arrested right now, shoved into another prison. The odds of Svelte Rasa being able to walk the District as a free man became lower and lower as each day passed - but no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't give up hope.)
(It was the only thing he had left.)
Despite his injuries, Svelte made it back to the Bizarre without being seen, dodging other performers as he went. A few offered him a brief nod of the head, while the rest largely ignored him. In a place like this, they knew it was best to keep their heads down and avoid trouble.
Besides, Svelte had bigger problems to attend to at the moment. His stomach twisted as he headed down the hall to Monsieur Vaurien's room, knowing that the odds of him making it out unscathed were incredibly low. He wasn't sure how this meeting would go, but Vaurien never managed to be pleased with whatever he brought back.
Vaurien's gaze locked on him the instant he stepped in the door. "You're limping."
Svelte licked his lips. "Took a tumble."
"You fell?" the man asked. There was enough curiosity in his voice to mask whatever his true thoughts on the matter were. Not that Svelte needed any hints.
"Don't worry. I didn't break anything and I didn't bruise anything that could be seen, so your merchandise will still be ready to fly."
"You'd be ready to go either way," the man said flippantly, waving a hand in the air. "After all, it's not as if you have any replacement."
Svelte tried not to keep his face from twisting into an expression other than peaceful apathy. "The contact. It was someone trying to persuade Ariadne Valade to help with the rebels."
"And what did she say?"
"A vehement no, and then she told them to mind their business and leave her out of anything further."
Vaurien waited for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "And that's all?"
No. "That's all I heard."
The man took a slow step forward, his eyes gleaming with something more menacing. "So let me get this straight. I sent my little Spyder out to gather information for me, and he came back with injuries and old news. Is that right?"
"I don't see how something that happened half an hour ago could be old news."
"Don't be impudent. Everyone knows that Ariadne keeps to herself."
"Maybe if you'd given me more information going into this mission, I would've been able to bring back something more worthwhile."
Vaurien's face contorted into an ugly sneer that nearly made Svelte shrink back. Instead, he merely braced himself for what he knew was to come.
The slap was hard enough to make his cheek sting. Hard enough to make tears spring into his eyes. Hard enough for Svelte to know that he needed to find a way to cover it up, unless he wanted a worse punishment for ruining his performance later.
(But it wasn't hard enough to make Svelte regret holding back a piece of information. He didn't know what he could do with it, not yet, but secrets were his trade and he'd find a way to make this one count too.)
"Worthless boy," Vaurien scoffed. "I send you out there with the information I have, and I expect you to bring me back something better. Don't make me regret taking you in all those years ago."
Everything in Svelte wanted to rage, wanted to fight back. You didn't take me in, you enslaved me. You dressed me up to please a crowd and abused me when it wasn't enough.
But he held his tongue, lest he receive worse. He didn't want to perform on more than an injured hip and bruised pride.
"Do you understand me, boy?"
Svelte blinked, realizing that he missed half of what Vaurien had been berating him for. "It won't happen again," he tried.
Squinting, the man tried to read his expression, but Svelte kept it carefully neutral. When Vaurien finally had to admit that he'd run out of ways to be angry at Svelte, he just heaved a disgusted sigh.
"See to it that it doesn't. I didn't bring you here to be a disappointment. Go get ready for your show."
"Yes, Monsieur Vaurien."
Svelte hurried out of the room and down the hall to his dressing room - or, at least, what he used as his dressing room. It was nothing more than a closet with his outfits and some mirrors shoved in, but it was enough for Svelte.
He ran his hands over the gaudy outfits, trying to find the one he had to put on for his show tonight. No amount of injuries would stop him from performing his best. He'd join the rest of the circus, show off his acrobatics, and then do it all again tomorrow. His life had become a strangely monotonous one, and Svelte wasn't sure he'd ever be able to break free.
He'd long since given up on wishing for someone else to break him out of this prison. All Svelte had to rely on was himself, and some days he didn't know how much good that did him.
No matter how hard he tried, he was just as helpless as he'd ever been.
Zephyr Vitale, 18
District Seven Tribute, he/they
There was nowhere else for him to go.
The streets of Seven were dark, but Zephyr knew them well. They'd traveled this exact path hundreds of times over the years, so it was intimately familiar to him. But tonight, he wasn't out looking for a good time. The shadows managed to obscure their face and the tears that marred it, but Zephyr's own ragged breathing gave him away.
They weren't the type for running away from things, but tonight felt different. Zephyr could still hear the screaming ringing in his head, and they just needed to be… somewhere else. Anywhere else. Even though Zaidra had also stormed off - likely to her fucking boyfriend's house - he didn't have it in him to stay home.
(If anything, Zephyr didn't want to have to meet their mother's gaze and know that it was their fault things turned out this way. All they ever wanted to do was help, and now things were falling apart faster than he could put the pieces back together.)
On any other night, Zephyr would be up on his rooftop, surveying the sky and the stars beyond. They'd managed to leave their journal at home in the hurry, and his hands twitched at his sides with the urge to write down everything that happened. It kept him grounded in a way, and he desperately needed something like that now.
"Zeph?"
He blinked, sniffling rather pathetically as they remembered whose door they wound up at. "Hey, Gal," he said, managing a shaky smile.
Thankfully, Galenos didn't ask any questions just yet. He merely stepped aside to let Zephyr through, closing the door behind him.
Zephyr trembled in the hallway for a moment, trying to gather their thoughts. He pressed a hand to his temple, wincing as a headache began to throb. They hadn't been sure what to expect when they ran into Zaidra earlier, but…
"What is it?" Galenos asked, grabbing his hand gently.
He allowed himself to be led further into Gal's apartment, feet slow and shuffling as if they were in a dream. Maybe he was still dreaming. Maybe soon they would wake up and be back in a reality where everything was fine again.
(No, that was too much to ask for. Zephyr had a loose meaning of the word fine anyway. It was fine when he had to go to work every day and risk his own life under his father's watchful eye, but it wasn't fine when his sister decided to get mad at him for just trying to help.)
(Maybe he needed to find a new word for this.)
"Zaidra," he sighed, sinking into the couch. Galenos sat on their other side, still rubbing their hand gently. "She's mad at me."
"Again?" Gal asked, mildly surprised.
"This is worse than before."
"I could guess that much. You don't often show up on my doorstep without warning like that."
Zephyr shot him a bemused look. "Because I often give you warning for my other visits?"
"Well, no," Galenos said, hiding a smile behind his hand. "But you usually tend to show up for more enjoyable reasons."
Despite himself, Zephyr flushed and lightly smacked Gal's shoulder. "Come on!"
"Is that not what you were talking about?" Galenos asked, blinking innocently.
"Shut up," Zeph said, already feeling himself beginning to relax. That's how it had always been with Galenos. They understood each other and always seemed to know exactly what to say. Galenos was the one person in the world that Zephyr felt fully comfortable around - even if their relationship was still relatively undefined. They just were, and that's all either of them needed.
"So?" Galenos asked again, looking at him expectantly.
Zephyr knew that they could easily change the subject and avoid talking about the matter entirely. Galenos wouldn't push, and they could go back to the far more pleasant aspect of their relationship. But, of course, Zephyr wasn't one to simmer in his feelings like this for too long. If their mom had been home - and hadn't been somewhat involved - they'd already be talking to her about it.
"Zaidra's mad at me," he said again. "But… I don't think I'm too happy with her either."
"You don't think?"
Their lips twisted into a frown. "It's always been hard with her. She doesn't understand a lot of things."
"You don't explain a lot of things."
"That's part of our deal. I don't say anything, Velour keeps me employed, and we stay in our own lanes. Besides, I don't know what would happen if Zaidra found out about our dad."
"Don't you think she has the right to know?"
Zephyr made a frustrated noise. "I don't know! I guess? She'd probably hate him though, and then she'd try to tear things apart. I just… I need to handle this one on my own."
"Very noble of you," Gal said, nodding his head. "But you can't protect her forever."
"I know that too." Zephyr heaved a more defeated sigh. "I just… I feel like it should be my burden to bear. Not hers, not mom's. Besides, I'm the one that made him aware of us again."
"Does your dad have something to do with this?"
"Not really," he admitted, acknowledging that they'd managed to get more than a little off topic. "I guess he's just been on my mind because he's been acting strange lately."
"Strange how?"
"Shiftier. More observant. I can always feel him watching me while I work, which isn't new, but this is… I don't know, I can't explain it."
"I can try to look into it for you," Gal offered, squeezing their hand gently. "Whatever you need."
"Thanks, Gal," they said softly, beginning to get overwhelmed by his all-encompassing exhaustion. Zephyr sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly. "She called me selfish."
Galenos blinked and then laughed out loud. When he saw that Zephyr's expression didn't change, he sobered up quickly. "You're serious?"
Zephyr nodded miserably. "I caught her stealing money from mom. She didn't like it very much when I confronted her about it."
"I'd imagine not. What did you say?"
"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you taking mom's treatment money for your stupid parties?"
Zaidra just laughed, her eyes wild with something Zephyr had never seen in them before. "Now that's rich. There goes Zephyr, telling me all about what I'm doing wrong again. Silly Zaidra, always fucking everything up."
"I never said-"
"You never need to say it, Zeph. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you avoid me. You're the perfect little golden child and I'm just Zaidra, the one left behind."
"What are you talking about? You're just-"
"What, am I making it up now? Stupid little Zaidra who doesn't even know what she wants. You don't know what I want, Zeph. You're never fucking here. You're too caught up in your own life to notice me anymore."
He swallowed carefully, feeling tears prick at his eyes once more. "I accused her of taking it for her parties."
Galenos watched them carefully. "That's not exactly untrue."
"No," Zephyr admitted, "but it's not quite true either. It's like… it's like she doesn't see that everything I do is for her and Mom."
"Maybe she doesn't want to see it."
"Why wouldn't she?"
The other man shrugged, leaning his head back against the couch. "Sometimes it's easier to find someone else to blame for our problems. She chose you."
Unfortunately, that did make a lot of sense. Zephyr knew that Zaidra was off on her own now, choosing to spend her time partying and doing… well, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe part of what made him so upset was the fact that, in a lot of ways, she had been right.
"I guess," Zephyr said slowly. "I just…"
"It's not fair because after everything you've done for her, she doesn't see it."
Their shoulders slumped and Zephyr nodded again. "I… yeah. I don't understand how all of this went so wrong."
Galenos took his hand away, and Zephyr longed for his contact again before they realized that he had looped an arm around their shoulders to bring them closer. Zephyr gladly leaned in, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.
"From what you've told me, everything has always been rather… difficult between you two."
"Not always," Zephyr protested. "When we were kids, things were great. And then… and then Mom got sick and I went to hunt down Velour for help and… well, everything fell apart from there."
"It's in the nature of twins to have their fair share of issues."
"Yeah, but that sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen to us." Zephyr swallowed thickly, fighting back tears again. "I just… I just wanted to help."
"And you've done a great job of that," Galenos insisted, sweeping a few strands of hair out of Zephyr's face. "You've sacrificed so much for them. I'm sure they recognize that."
"Of course I notice!" Zephyr raised his voice to match hers. "I notice that you're off doing god knows what, and-"
"And what?" Zaidra laughed aloud, the sound high and unnatural. "And what, Zeph? You can't even finish that sentence, can you? Because you don't know. You're so goddamn selfish it makes me sick."
"I'm the selfish one?" Zephyr asked, genuinely taken aback.
"Who else?" she cried, gesturing vaguely. "You've done everything around here for years, and where has that left me?"
"It's left you here and safe," Zephyr insisted.
"God, you're so serious about it," she snickered cruelly. "You really think you helped, don't you?"
He bristled, standing up a little straighter. "That's all I've ever tried to do."
She spread her arms out wide, her eyes glittering with something akin to glee. "You made me like this, Zephyr. There's no one left to take care of me but myself. And do you want to know something?" she asked, her voice suddenly dropping to something near a whisper. "I fucking hate you for it."
Zephyr reeled back as if he'd been hit, hands clenching into fists at their sides. Oh how easy it would be to say they hated her back, that he'd done all this on purpose, but Zephyr couldn't bring himself to lie about something like that. They cared about their sister more than almost anything in the world, and to be called selfish for everything they'd done?
That hurt more than any physical wound ever could.
"Zeph," Gal said, gently rubbing his shoulder. "Maybe you should get some rest."
All of a sudden, every inch of Zephyr's body was weighed down by exhaustion. They rubbed their forehead before getting to his feet. He swayed gently before they felt Gal's hand on his back, gently guiding him out of the room.
"Do you think I'm selfish?" Zephyr mumbled.
"I think you're many things, but selfish isn't one of them. Almost too selfless, perhaps."
"Then what did I do wrong?" he whispered, sniffling quietly. "I don't think there's anything else I could do."
"There's no use dwelling on it now. Get some sleep, think on it tomorrow. Don't beat yourself up over something that has already happened."
That all made sense to Zephyr's tired and muddled brain, so they managed a nod. "And… and I can stay here tonight?"
Galenos laughed quietly. "You know you can stay here whenever you need."
"Of course," Zephyr said, ducking his head. "I'll stay the night, then."
"But you won't stay longer, will you?"
They paused before sighing gently. "I can't."
"That's alright, too."
And, somehow, it was. Galenos was the only person Zephyr stayed for - and vice versa - because they didn't muddle their relationship with other expectations. They cared about each other plenty, and were in a strange step between being friends and being more than friends, but they didn't need to be anything more. If anything, Zephyr wasn't sure that he could handle anything more. Between his mom and sister, he had enough people to take care of.
No matter what barbs his sister threw at him, he'd always come back to her. They loved their sister more than almost anything in the world.
He'd do anything to keep her safe.
hewwo... welcome to da boys...
there they are! one of my most cohesive intro chapters theming wise. wanting salvation for others vs for yourself teehee. i hope u enjoyed! we're now officially 2/3 done with intros! wowee... thanks to mae for cal, dyl for vel, and phobie for zeph! i had a great deal of fun :relieved:
um! i'm headed to cali on wednesday but i fully intend to write and post intros 5 on sunday bc i'm fucking insane! this one is for u brooke. i've managed weekly intros for several weeks now... almost free of intros...
i've had not a single goddamn thought about the games. drop thoughts or sumn. who's ur fav so far. gimme the tea. ily.
~de laney is out