the rest of our lives would've fared well / elliot & eileen

[d7f amber bosch 🌿 tris]

eileen langston,
seventeen

By the end of the evening, they're on the rooftop. They share a bottle of rum between them, a cigarette hanging from Eileen's half smirk as she invites Elliot to indulge ⁠— to ruin. The difference evades her. Tendrils of smoke dance in the distant neon glow of the district, ever the insomniac. The school thrums with life beneath their feet, a slow song vibrating through their bones like an echo.

"It's the same damn music every year." She flicks away a spray of embers, watching as the light tumbles down into the darkness, only to die there. It's like the night sky has wrapped around her, a void in all directions. As above, so below. On the happiest days, Eileen still feels terribly tragic. Her eyes meet her best friend's, and the war in her mind just sounds like a thought. It passes. "I swear. Nothing ever changes."

The irony is in the way their shoulders touch, heavy coats over their dresses, cackling at their peers stumbling out of the building and making a mad dash for the shadows. It's a memory they've lived before. A whole class of intriguing strangers, and for the better half of her life, Eileen can hardly break her gaze away from Elliot Testino-Lee. She found her person, and that's always been enough for her. She needs nothing else. No one else.

In a quiet, fragile way,

at least for a time ⁠—

Eileen is content.

The chamber clicks into place. The guillotine drops. The curse is cast.

The music keeps playing regardless of them, so she holds out her hand and tries to convince herself that she's not dooming the person who takes it. She feels like an omen as much as turning eighteen does, a future she can't bring herself to process just around the corner. She wonders in the deep dark if this might be the last time they ever exist in this moment. And it frightens her as much as it inspires her, lowering herself into a flamboyant bow. She nods to the end.

"Fair lady, would you care to make my night?"

[rook]

elliot testino-lee

three years & two months until incident

You're starting to see that the problem with Six is everything.

The squared flat rooftops stacking out to a blinking horizon are deteriorating more and more with the seasons. The refineries in the distance are churning out toxic fumes into the air, choking the lungs of the children in the streets, all for the sake of profit. The Capitol takes so much from these people, and they just keep their heads down and keep moving, like there's a curse on this town.

Eileen's right. Nothing around here ever changes.

You'll be the difference, then.

Rhythmic rock music vibrates the roof panels beneath your doc marten boots, as the student DJ act bring 'the hottest, the nastiest, the sickest beats that district six has ever seen'. De Facto. Tragic, really.

You've graduated, passed all of your examinations with flying colours. A distinction in every single subject. To you it was child's play, the kind of questions and puzzles you were doing at eight years old. This whole place has never been anything more than a complete waste of time to you.

And now they're dancing, partying, drinking and celebrating that they made it. Like it was some challenging ordeal. What must it be like to be so simple?

You've only come tonight because Eileen is here.

Eileen is a slender black shadow, towering in the night. An orange flower blossoms between her lips, and the stale smell of tobacco drifts your way as she turns to face you.

When she asks you to dance, a warm column of air rises around you, encircling and pulling you to your feet. A great excitement bubbles to the surface from within, and culminates in a giggle at the stupidity of it all.

You take her hand and start to lead, even though it was her idea, ducking under her arm and pulling her towards you excitedly as you bounce and twists to the rhythm of the shitty homecoming music.

The distant sound of music makes your foot twitch inside of it's tank, if just for a half-second. Despite all the new people here, no one is around to see it.

[d7f amber bosch 🌿 tris]

eileen langston,
seventeen

When a moment is beautiful, it's beautiful.

Elliot's arm closes around her in the night, stars peeking through the haze of city lights and smoke. Their song plays as if it has no end, a chorus that could stretch into forever, lyrics she will fate herself to hum beneath her breath for the rest of their lives / for the rest of her life. They meet like a livewire and a fuel leak, like a flame that ignites with no purpose, no reason. Just the burning, and the aftermath. That's all this ever needs to be. Only the spark, and the flash, and the way Eileen feels as if she could do anything, everything, whenever their skin touches. She breathes her in like a drug / like her lungs have always been empty of her, and she is hungry.

And it's beautiful because it can be beautiful. A carcass in the woods, bones turning into a sanctuary, organs into flowers. It's all just another process of decay. This is theirs.

For Eileen, when a moment turns bleak —

it unravels in her.

She assumes there's no help for it, shrugs her shoulders at the notion that any of her mistakes could ever be solved. As if it's not her own two hands tearing into herself. Cheek cradled against the curve of Elliot's collarbone, their laughter fades until the melody swallows everything, and suddenly eighteen feels so terribly close. Her fist tightens around the fabric of a hoodie, nuzzles her fact against the warmth and the scent, white jasmine and whiskey. Fears that should have went unsaid.

"Will we ever be like this again?"

Eileen catches her reflection in a window, forces herself to stare at the image of them swaying together, and all she can think about is the inevitable parting. So much so that she pulls away by her own choice, blurts out the question she can't stop asking over and over in her mind. She walks over to the edge of the roof, wraps her arms around herself, and she stares down at the depths where she always flings herself. Nothing in her knows how to be afraid of the leap / of the fall.

"This time next year, I'll be graduated, too." Her tone is cool and low, not yet betraying the storm rising in her mind; in the dark where the bright Elliot Testino-Lee can never quite reach her. "You'll be knee deep in the shit at your new job, and I," she halts, feels the wind pick up and wonders how easy it would be just to let it take her. It has to be easier than the wondering. The waiting. It's like she's watching a bomb detonate, waiting for the blast to make impact. She looks down at the ash on her fingers / as if she didn't light the fuse.

"I don't know what I'll do. If I'll do anything."

Taking out another cigarette, she cups her hand around a lighter flame and sets it ablaze. She takes a puff, and watches as the cloudy tendrils reach for the sky as she exhales. It doesn't help. Part of her knows that it never will.

"I really cheated the system to have you," her throat tightens, heart races, "as my friend, you know? You deserved better." Her cowardice always wins out. "It was only a matter of time before life figured it out and took you away from me."

[rook]

elliot testino-lee

three years & two months until incident

When Eileen is close to you, the pressure lifts from your shoulders, the great weight of expectation shifts to an indescribable freedom. You take in a deep breath as you sway, deeper than you've taken all day so far, and let the cold air hang in your lungs. When you exhale you open your eyes to look at her, and you realise just how alive she makes you feel.

You would never tell her that. You are too afraid that she would scrunch her nose up and laugh at you.

But the truth is, no one gets you like Eileen gets you. Your parents have long since disassociated with you, using you as a means to an end - they say they are proud, but they are just happy the scholarship paychecks keep coming. Abraham doesn't see you as a person either, he just wants you for what you can do, not who you are.

Everyone else at school, they're just simple. Boring. They don't get it. They never will. You and Eileen are opposite ends of a spectrum - you are so far above the education system that you find it all trivial, whereas she is below it and doesn't want to try. You find yourself in the same place, feeling the same way, despite being so different. The spectrum goes full circle, and there you both sit at the top of it, laughing at everyone in between you.

The moon hides behind thick shifting clouds. Eileen starts saying things that scare you. You laugh it off like you always do. You're Elliot Testino-Lee, nothing scares you.

"It's not like I'm going anywhere. I'll always be in Six."

You know that's not what she means. Your life is going to change in ways that you can't yet fully comprehend. Free time will be a luxury afforded to less gifted individual. The work you will do will take you beyond the walls of Six and away from interpersonal relationships.

You look her in the eyes and try to comfort her.

"This is my home."

You don't mean Six. You mean her.

Your body floats lifelessly in the tank, eyeballs moving behind closed eyelids, dreaming of the last normal night of your life.