Secrets we buried in the sand//Blaine&Zada

[minie]

z a d a .

The weight of the file on my lap was inexplicable to most. All the information of the job I was to complete in district three, negotiated by my aunt. I never got much of a say in the lives I were to end, all I got was instructions and the expectation to fulfil the needs of those with pockets deeper than my own family’s.

In return I was labelled cold hearted and cruel.

There was a certain aura of emptiness that constantly surrounded me. The ghosts of the past I desperately tried to avoid still wailing their haunted songs as loud as ever. One shot changed my life forever, the second shot solidified my fate. Now I am on a train to district three with a fake story to go with my fake name and my fake life. I am nothing more of a fabrication of the Mahdavi family, yet I have found serenity in the lies and comfort in the inhumanity.

As the train came to a halt in the vast sea of locomotives plaguing the transportation district’s train station, I sat still as the rest of the passengers hurried to make an exit. Everyone had somewhere to go, somewhere to be, a life to be lived. Not one of them had any idea just how fragile their life truly was. They went on without a care in the world for all the theatrics that went down when the sun set, and the moon took center stage. The world of showmen and directors of life during the darkness faded into the background during daylight. Twilight became our main act and when the sun would rise, it was as if nothing had ever happened.

Slowly, I rose and joined the masses. My face blending in with the crowds, becoming just another number in the swarm of people with places to scurry of to and tasks to be completed.

I was completely invisible and absolutely irrelevant in the grand scheme of happenings in district three. By the time, anyone would have any idea of the reason I was here, I would find myself sitting on another train. No one would know it was me because I never existed in the first place. You cannot catch a person if they are nothing more than a name that does not exist in any record and a face that drowned in the large pool of the population.

It was nice to be invisible, to not have people recognize your face. At home, I had a reputation…Zada Mahdavi had a reputation. People at the academy knew me as a solid career, the patrons at the bars knew me as possibly the best dart player in the district and now strangers knew me as the cousin of the dead tribute from our district. The one who could not even make a single kill and seemed to have gone off the rails in the arena. They gave me looks of pity and sometimes I could even here them giggle and whisper about Xaahira’s virtually shameful performance in the arena.

Here I was nobody. I moved about through the crowded streets trying to find a quiet place I could call my own for a few hours until the sun had set, and I could get to work. My thoughts got lost in the conversations of stranger, only ever picking up fragments of conversations I was not privy to.

”-forgot to remove the –“

”-She actually went back to his –“

”-got so scared his nose started bleeding–“

In all my years that I lived in silence, scared of my father’s retaliation if I spoke out of line – there was nothing that sparked my curiosity more than the tidbits of the conversations on the street. It always left me wondering about the lives I gained access to for nothing more than a millisecond. We all had our struggles and our drama. We all had at least one person that cared for us and one that wanted nothing more than to see us dead. For someone so well versed in the art of taking lives, it was almost ironic just how much I valued the concept of life itself. I found that once you truly understood it’s fragility, that is when you appreciated it the most.

My stroll continued and the conversations kept on going, my ears jumping from one fleeted encounter to the next until my ears picked up what I thought to be a voice of a ghost.

”Makayla?!“ The ghost called out.

A name that no one has called me in over half a decade. A voice that felt like sea breeze brushing up against my ears back in district four. A voice that was a warm embrace of familiarity and also a harsh reminder of why I left. A voice that carried many memories, some of which placed a blissful smile on my lips while others were of the sort that kept me up at night afraid of a monster that already took his last breath.

A voice I was certain I had heard for the last time.

I wanted to run, to hide and disappear into the crowd and hope he would chalk it up to his mind playing tricks on him. I wanted to pretend that it was just the family inheritance of insanity and paranoia finally getting to me. Then I heard it again.

”Makayla Harrington!“

I stopped dead in my tracks, cornered by our shared history. The memories of us two children playing in the sand together, walking to school together, building pillow forts together. The shared fear of our own parents and what they would or would not do to us. Two scared little kids back in district four that had no other option than to betray the ones they loved and run. But neither of us were scared little kids anymore and I no longer was Makayla Harrington. I turned around to face someone I once considered a close friend until his trust in me, and my parents turned into his demise.

Moments pass that feel like eternities as I stare Blaine in the eyes filled with regrets, questions, and uncertainty. I could not find the words to say, do I apologize for what became of his parents? Do I give him a hug or do I break out in tears of joy. Every single emotion curses through my body all at once and then I finally muster up the ability to speak.

”It’s Zada now. Makayla died a long time ago.”

ELEGANT

[Izzabel Bennet D8A (Jorg)]

B L A I N E

Blaine lost track of the years he's spent hidden in the crowds of Three, though as the district ventured into new techs, the old factories that were once abandoned are now being reclaimed, leaving those who used to call them home to find new places. Blaine has been lucky enough to make acquaintances who know about new shelters being claimed but still haven't gotten through the wounds he inflicted on himself. Blaine tried so hard to fix them, to get them the help that they needed, yet all he did was drive them away even further. He tried to help those using when he saw them in Three, but others around him showed him the truth. Morphling users could only become sober if they wanted to be.

That shattered what remaining hope Blaine had, and he's been drifting ever since. He wishes he was still out at sea, where he was comfortable, but the stares and pity were too much. Even in the orphanage, the other kids only saw him as the kid who turned his parents in, who imploded what little remained of his life. They whispered about how he had a home he could keep, had just worked, and created his own situation. He couldn't take the guilt anymore, so he ran and was only another face in a crowded sea.

Blaine is on his way to one of those new shelters after finding work after successfully doctoring some documents to show him as a District Three citizen. It was surprisingly easy to do, given the amount of bureaucracy it took, but Blaine also managed to find new ways of surviving. He doesn't feel good about it, but given his position, having to sleep with those resources has proven beneficial. His job is not enough to afford a place of his own, let alone find anyone willing to rent a home to a minor, but it's still better than having to swipe for little scraps. He still likes to pickpocket, which gives him a little rush, and who knows when he will need that skill. It also provides a strange sense of comfort to know that he hasn't completely lost the skills he learned while moving through the wilds.

He couldn't help but feel grateful for his years in Three, though, getting a chance to reinvent himself, to become someone who got to pretend that he was not haunted by the specters of his past. Yeah, his situation could be better, but after a while, he learned to make do with what he could get. Though something stopped him in his tracks. A face he thought he had left buried in the sand along with the rest of his past. The look is older and more mature, but there is no mistaking it. It's her. He used to play along the shore with her, the one who would build forts in his house while his parents were gone. It was always safer at his home, where they had fond memories of escaping their reality together. Yet, her father was the one he trusted the most, only to have him rip out Blaine's life from under him.

Blaine knows it's not her fault and that she cannot be held responsible for her father's actions. Hell, he heard stories about how he was scary and cruel in his own right, but he always treated Blaine with kindness. But Blaine realized too late that it was a pity. It was always a pity, and that anger starts boiling in Blaine's blood before he realizes what he's doing.

"Makayla?!" he cautiously asks, still unsure if his mind is playing tricks on him. She starts to move, and his conviction grows more resolute.

"Makayla Harrington!" Blaine calls out, running towards the girl who has now stopped in her tracks. Her back is toward Blaine, but he knows that it's her. Who else could it be? Questions rise like pressurized steam about to burst. Why is she in Three? Did she finally escape her father? How long has she been here, and why is it only when Blaine finally feels like he has a shaky sense of stability that she shows up? His strength lies on loose wires and unbolted powerlines. And now the face that he thought forgotten is here.

There is no mistaking that those honey-brown eyes are hers. Time feels still as Blaine looks at her, unsure if this moment is real. Emotions cycle through him like waves, yet he can feel the questions and uncertainty painted on his features. Her voice breaks his damn though

"It's Zada now. Makayla died a long time ago," she states. Her voice is older, but it's still hers. Blaine wraps her in a bone-crushing hug, afraid to lose what is so clearly in front of him. He knows that Makayla, now Zada, is different; Blaine has become another person in the years since he left District Four, but she's still here. Tears hotter and saltier than the warm ocean they used to play in begrudgingly roll down his face as he tries to contain them, contain himself as he still holds a lost fragment of his life tightly in his grasp.

Blaine doesn't know what to say or why he even hugged... Zada, to begin with. He's not the same child who was so afraid yet determined, and she no longer held herself as the girl rumored to be under the watchful gaze of a forceful strike. There is no way that he can be realistically angry at her, yet he is. He takes a few deep breaths before looking back into those same eyes he used to play with all those years ago, forcing his anger onto the back of his teeth.

"I don't care who you are now," Blaine starts through clenched teeth, trying to misplace his anger on her. "What I care about is that you're here. What the fuck are you doing here, though?"

ELEGANT

[minie]

z a d a .

Blaine’s embrace crushes me the way the waves did when they would hit my body with a force I was not expecting. In that moment, I expected anything but a hug from the boy. No, he wasn’t a boy anymore the same I was no longer a girl. He grew up, his jawline was sharper, facial hair now grew on his chin and he had a strong build. Behind his grey blue eyes was something I could not entirely explain but I knew exactly what it was. Something happened to your eyes when you experienced hardship and tragedy, there was no mistaking it. His life as I knew it was not easy, but he must have been through hell since I had last seen him for him to carry the same hollow look I had in my own honey-dew eyes.

I could not bring myself to wrap my arms around him in return as his grasp tightened around me. I did not deserve the hug he was giving me, and I did not deserve his kindness. When we were kids and things got rough, we would sit in our makeshift tent and tell each other all about our problems. He told me stories about his parents who could not get off the morphling and how they would disappear for days on end. I would tell him about the horrors of what happened at home when I stepped out of line. We felt like normal kids telling each other scary stories around a campfire only there was nothing fictional about the tales we told.

It was my suggestion that he talked to my father, my idea that just maybe my dad could do something positive for him even if he was the monster in my narrative.

Blaine should hate me; he had every right.

Still cautious about our reunion, I tried not to stiffen my body. I tried not to react the same way I would react when I was too scared to go home. I wanted to remain calm, and I wanted to be happy in this moment but all the danger alarms in my head were going off. This was a threatening moment, not just because I was scared of what this new Blaine was capable of but because he knew me. He really knew me. For last five years, I had been reinventing myself, becoming everything, I was not before. I learned to speak up for myself, to take care of myself, to enjoy the little things in life. I became happy being the villain in other people’s life because finally I was no longer a victim. The encounter with Blaine felt like all those years of working to become someone I was proud of were for nothing.

Here I stood in district three, the same little girl scared of the consequences of her actions. Why didn’t he fucking hate me?

“I don’t care who you are now. What I care about is that you’re here. What the fuck are you doing here, though?”

I opened my mouth to speak but again no words came out. What was I supposed to say? Hey Blaine, I ran away to One where I found out that my mother was part of a crime legacy and by default so am I. Oh and guess what, I now kill people for a living…oh right, you weren’t there when I shot my father because well…he killed my mother. Now I have a job to do here in three which means someone is going to die tonight.

Hell, even if I did tell him all of that, the truth was so far out there that it just sounded like the plot to a bad movie.

”I care who I am now, Blaine” I exasperated trying to buy myself some time to figure out what to tell my old friend.

My official document reason for coming to three was to take a meeting on the behalf of the family company to negotiate a deal with logistics company to distribute our toys across Panem. Of course, none of it was true. Just another perfect forgery done by Tallie, she really had a talent for these kind of things. I doubt he would buy that story; besides he knew me better than anyone else. This was the person who had seen me at my worst in life, there was a bond between the two of us that could never be broken no matter what happened. If anyone would be able to call my bluff, it would be him.

”I…I…It’s a long story” I struggled to find the words, my mind still coming up blank with any possible explanation that would make sense to him. ”I’m just running an errand for my aunt back in One. I’ve sort of been living there for the past five years.” It was not a lie…just a very vague version of the truth. Hopefully he would know better than to ask any questions and would leave it as it is. Accept that I have a new life that I could not really let him in on and move on. For his own good, the last thing he probably need was to get once again caught up in my mess of a family.


”The fuck are you doing here?” I returned the questioned even though I already knew the answer. He ran, just like I did. Neither of us had anything left for us in four. If I ran, why was it so hard to believe that he did the same.

ELEGANT

[Izzabel Bennet D8A (Jorg)]

B L A I N E

She doesn't relax in Blaine's embrace, yet she doesn't tense up either. At least she doesn't tense the way she used to when her father was around. It's been seven years since he was back in Four. Eight years since her father took his parents away to the Capitol to be turned into Avoxes. That wasn't what was supposed to happen; even Makay- Zada thought that telling her father would be a good idea, though Blaine knows he can't hold that against her. Even she couldn't have guessed that he would pull that stunt. But she's no longer the same girl that he left behind; he saw that when he first laid eyes on her, but the hollowness is still there, even after all these years.

Zada, Zada, Zada, that name sits foreign in his mouth like a new body. However, Blaine has to admit that it was brilliant of her to completely change her persona. It's the perfect chance to reinvent herself, to become someone new. Someone not anchored down by the guilt and shame of the past. He wishes he had done the same instead of going for doctor documents. Hell, he's starting to question whether or not those documents are fake. One of his "clients," as he likes to call them, said they would get the paperwork for him to get an actual job. He still visits that client, but now it's more fun than a job.

"I care who I am now, Blaine," she states, her voice starting to reflect the same hollow presence in her eyes, even if her frustration still shows through. I let go of her, stepping back to let the moment breathe between us. I haven't seen her in seven years, yet it feels like it was only last week when I last saw her, standing dutifully behind her father, and he explained what happened. He still remembers the brief looks she snuck to him, the genuine hurt and apology in her eyes, not the same pitiful glances people threw his way back in Four. Blaine can only imagine what she went through for her voice to reflect the look in her eyes. Just because they both are hollow doesn't mean they still can't feel.

"I... I... It's a long story," she starts. "I'm just running an errand for my aunt back in One. I've sort of been living there for the past five years." She's being vague, not telling the whole story. But from the sounds of it, it's not one Blaine needs to hear. She- Zada- has her reasons for keeping things to her chest, just as he did.

"Well, then," Blaine starts as he rocks onto the back of his heels, his hands drumming along his thighs. He knows when a dismissal is present, yet he's unwilling to let this moment go. "Care to introduce me to who you are now? If you have some time, I know a great local place. They got a little bit of everything if you're hungry." Blaine asks timidly.

He wants to know who she is, but can she handle what he has become? This Blaine, who is homeless, has to prostitute himself until he finds someone who takes pity on him and gives him a better life. Does he want to show Blaine, who learned how to steal and commit petty crimes when he couldn't feed himself? Does Blaine want her to know that about himself? He almost tried the drug himself to try and understand what his parents were chasing. He can see the hesitation in her eyes, so he opens up and answers her question.

"To answer your question, though," Blaine starts because he knows that to answer a question with a question is only avoidance. "I ran about 7 years ago, found my way here, and thought it would be nice to escape in a sea of people. Learned some interesting tricks along the way." He motions her to follow him in the moving current of people that are ever present in Three.

Blaine spots a person with particularly loose pockets, their wallet hanging out against the bag, not against their body. He manages to slip through the stream until he's just within reach, close enough to grab but far enough to make an easy escape. Blaine lightly crinkles the bottom of the pocket and then, with the slightest movements, holds the wallet before leading Zada back out of the stream, this time next to an alleyway.

"Seems like food will be on this person today," Blaine states with a slight smirk. He takes out a decent amount of cash before ditching the wallet in the dark recesses of the alleyway. "So, food?"

ELEGANT

[minie]

z a d a .

The history that lingers between the two of us are like little strings binding us together. No matter how far we ran or wo we have become those strings are still connecting us, unable to break. I could have said no, I could have been on my merry way trying to forget the encounter. I could have never stopped in the first place and would have been just another face in the masses. Could’ve could’ve could’ve. Still here I was, still entertaining the fates that have not severed our ties just yet.

Conflicting ideals and thoughts clashed in my head as I hesitated to answer his invitation. No matter how much I tried to forget Makayla, she was a part of me. I was Makayla for the majority of my life. I could suppress her so far back into my mind that she was nothing but a whisper from time to time, but it would never change the fact that she will always be a part of me. That whisper was growing now, and it was no longer powerless. It was a screaming sensation, screaming to be let out of the prison that was so carefully warded by Zada Mahdavi.

I could not tell if Blaine could see it, but it felt like a slight shift in my demeanor maybe a fleeting reflection in my eyes. My muscles loosened up and it felt like for the first time since arriving in three, my lungs were able to fill themselves with air. I wanted Blaine to be a part of my life again even if it was just for this fraction of a moment. I longed to share my life with someone again, someone who knew every aspect there was to know about me. The little things, like my favorite seashell or what I named the first set of knives that I owned myself. The way my eyes widened when I became excited about something or all the tells I would give when I would say everything was alright when in fact nothing ever was.

More than anything I wanted to feel safe, and Blaine was the only person that ever made me feel like I was truly safe.

I nodded in agreement and followed him down a path of people with places to go and things to do.

Our short little walk was mostly spent in silence, trying to make our way. He led and I followed just like when we were kids. When we would need to get away from everyone and everything, he always seemed to know the right spots to hide out. Somewhere where we it could be just us because that is how it was. The two of us against the world and all its harshness.

Living on edge meant that you always needed to be aware of your surroundings. Even if I had relaxed, I was still looking for an escape route just in case and I had found multiple. I may have been a huntress but there was a time I was just as much the prey. Those survival instincts they may shift but they never leave. Metaphorically my relaxed state was just me sleeping with one eye open. Waiting for a threat to pounce from around the corner and end this little reunion quicker than I could say his name one last time.

My watchful observant eyes catch his hands slip into the loose pockets of an innocent bystander. Wrong place wrong time, quite unfortunate for him. I raise an eyebrow at the ordeal, Blaine was not joking when he said he learnt a few tricks along the way. I guess we all had to find our own way to survive, and I would be last person to judge anyone for what they had to do to make it through a rough patch. Seeing him swipe the cash made me hope that he would have a similar stance and maybe there would be hope that he could come to understand why I had to give up Makayla and become Zada.

I was ripped from my contemplations as Blaine grabbed my hand, leading me out of the hot and sweaty pool of bystanders into the cool shadows of an alleyway.

”Y’know if cash was a problem, we could have had lunch on my aunt. She didn’t send me here empty handed” I let out a slight laugh along with a sly smile. Back in four, I was never poor, but it did not come close to the amount of money I had now. Little things that we would once debate buying were no longer an issue. If I had a bad day, a trip to the mall would sort me out. That is how my family seemed to see things. There was no problem that money could not fix, everyone was always so obsessed with it. At the beginning it made me uncomfortable, but now I had grown to accept that sometimes it was okay to burn some bills to make your life a little better. It was not as if I did not pull my own weight to contribute to the family funds.

”But where is the fun in that, right? I must admit though, I am more of scam kind of girl. My cousins are the ones with the sticky fingers.” I held my breath awaiting his reaction to the first real piece of information I had offered him about my new life. ”I could definitely eat; I think we have a lot of ground to cover. Maybe I should start with my full name, Zada Mahdavi.” If Blaine was living a dishonest lifestyle, maybe he would have come across a family member or two in his career. The more I learned about my family, the more I realized we seemed to have a hand in a lot of different affairs in a lot of different places.

ELEGANT

[Izzabel Bennet D8A (Jorg)]

B L A I N E

She followed. She actually followed.

Blaine is surprised, to say the least, but he saw the way she relaxed, the most minute shift, yet the history that settles in the empty spaces between their words speaks volumes for them. Relief washes through Blaine's systems, reassurance that this was a language that was not forgotten. At first, the air was tense, unmoving between them, but now it flowed as smoothly as the waves as if the last time they talked was only yesterday and not years ago. They fell into their old pattern, Blaine somehow always knowing where to go. Even now, in Three, Blaine has an almost uncanny ability to see the constantly overlooked spots where he can hide in near plain sight. It helps that when he's out soliciting, he can hide from the eyes of the Peacekeepers while still being able to attract potential clients.

Blaine told himself that he was okay being by himself, that his acquaintances were enough of a connection to hold him over, but he didn't realize how lonely he was. He told himself that not making connections was for the best and that his guard was there to protect him. Yet Blaine was emotionally exhausted. Looking over his shoulder, constantly wondering where the next threat was coming from, or even policing what he said, ensuring that he never gave away too much wore him down beyond compare.

Blaine had not allowed himself to hope that he could make any connection, yet here stands the one person who knew him better than anyone. And he couldn't feel more elated. Blaine's relationship with her Zada had always been easy, and it seemed almost effortless. It's clear that they aren't biologically related, but they were virtually inseparable, and Blaine sometimes felt like he was the older brother to her. The fact that they seem to fall back into their old ways, even in a new setting and emotional context, soothes Blaine's soul. Even after showing her a little bit of what he could do, holding the money he just stole, she still looked at him with her sly smile.

"Y'know, if cash was a problem, we could have had lunch on my aunt. She didn't send me here empty-handed."

"And I miss the chance to show off my amazing skills?" Blaine retorts as they both softly laugh. Blaine has two jobs technically, but he doesn't want to tell Zada about the soliciting. She doesn't need to know about everything that he gets into. He has enough to get by because he doesn't have to pay rent, but still, Blaine wants to show off. To show that he's no longer the scared boy but now someone who can take care of himself.

But where is the fun in that right? I admit, though, I'm more of a scam kind of girl. My cousins are the ones with the sticky fingers." There is a glint in her eye, yet she tenses slightly, waiting for Blaine's reaction. Blaine returns this information with a sly and amused look. They both have clearly grown up. She continues before he can respond, though.

"I could definitely eat; I think we have a lot of ground to cover. Maybe I should start with my full name, Zada Mahdavi." Blaine instinctually paused at that name. The Mahdavi name carried some weight in Three, at least in the homeless population.

"Mahdavi, huh?" Blaine asks slight uneasiness in his voice. "I hear they do a lot of smuggling in these parts under the guise of some factory; not sure if it's actually up and running, though." Blaine is still trying to figure out what to think of that name, Mahdavi. He's seen his fellow transients work for them doing the shadier things that couldn't be done on the table, yet he also heard about some assassinations that took place as well. Hell, in Panem, death is a readily accepted fact, with the Games becoming ever more popular, though he did hear about that uprising in the middle Districts that got wiped out with some artificial plague.

"I've seen some of the fellow transients do some underground work for them but never fully understood what they got up to," Blaine explains as he walks, leading Zada toward his favorite diner.

"I even have some clients that do some work under the table for them as well," Blaine says tentatively. Indeed, she wouldn't think less of him for soliciting if she was part of the Mahdavi empire.

"What brings you out here, though, some business deal for your aunt? If so I know a great place where we can discrete. Besides the owner is a client of mine anyways." Blaine asks, understanding the delicate nature of the work that they both do.

ELEGANT

[minie]

TW: mentions of physical abuse

z a d a .

Blaine stops dead in his tracks as I took a few steps forward. I could not see his face in the moment but there was a tremble of uncertainty in his voice when my family name fell. I could tell immediately he was not exactly a stranger to the activities we conducted. I pressed my lips together turning back around to face him with contemplation written all over his face. Maybe I should have waited or not have mentioned who I was affiliated with at all. Right when I thought I could allow myself to relax, Blaine was the one tensing up.

In that moment I wanted to reach out and tell him to just forget it. However, the words I spoke were just like our shared past, you could not just forget.

With caution he proceeded to tell me what he knew about my family. It was not much more than the information I was privileged to. Outside of my own affairs and the operations that went down in one, I kept my distance. I was still not the most rusted person in our family ranks. I knew I was a person that a lot of people had a lot of differing opinions about. It was not quite forgotten that I had killed my father and the murder of family members was severely frowned upon. It was almost as if there was only one real rule we all followed, family over everything. I have heard aunts and uncles arguing that if I had no issue shooting him in the head, what would stop me from doing the same to them.

Only they did not understand the circumstances.

They did not comprehend what it was like to live in fear every single day. My hands shaking as I would push open the door to what I called home. The feeling of a thousand bricks on my chest preventing me from breathing as I hoped that I would be able to escape to my room before my fathers first drink. Betrayal like no other as the man I considered my entire world, a role model, would lay his iron fist against my cheekbone over and over again.

I may have shot him in the head but if they knew the agony I lived in ever single day, the saying family first would have meant nothing to them as well.

There were a few I was close to that heard me speak of my life before one. Those were the same people that defended me, my aunt argued that I acted in order save her sister, my mother. She said that if anything I was protecting the family to the best of my abilities. My father may have been my father, but he was nothing short of an abusive tyrant to the Mahdavi’s. Slowly with time, more and more family members have begun to trust me. One secret at a time I have began to understand just how far our influence reaches.

I nodded my head as Blaine recounts his very minimal connection to my family. He knew people that knew people, it always seemed to happen that way. Everyone knew someone that knew of something that we did but never knew any of us themselves. This way we stayed in the shadows, only really interacting with amongst ourselves. An exclusive club you could work for but never truly join.

”It is all a little bit complicated…I don’t quite understand it all myself really. I have my specialty and kinda just stick to that, try not to make any waves or anything.” I briefly mention as we continue down the narrow alleyways.

I could tell that we were walking further away from places deemed safe by the general public. The streets turned small and narrow. The buildings seemed to be a bit more run down than the ones in the district center. There was no sense of grandeur or status. I had the sneaking suspicion that most people would consider this area unsafe at night and would not dare to wander the concrete jungle alone. Just the kind of place I grew to feel secure in. The people who lived and went around their business here were most likely to turn a blind eye to what the most considered suspicious activity. Whether it was out of self-perseveration or because they had their own shit to deal with, this was where I blended in the most.

Although in One, I was able to afford flashy clothes and all kinds of cosmetic enhancements, I could not afford to travel to places such as this and stick out like a sore thumb. My worn-out black trousers were wide enough to not give away the concealed knives strapped to my legs, but also helped me fit in with the working class. Blaine was definitely not kidding when he said the location was discreet and I was grateful we had the same interpretation of the word.

He proceeded to ask questions about my reason to be here, what kind of errand I was running. Whilst I hoped he would have dropped the subject by now, he seemed determined to figure out why I was here.

You could call it a business deal of some sorts. More like I am here to provide a service a select few could pay for. What about you, what kind of clients are we talking about?”, it was only fair that I got to ask my questions too. If had to guess, he was some sort of paid company. Escorts and gigolos were always a good source of information, who else would the rich trust but the ones they were most likely cheating on their partners with. Considering the stealing, he was either not a gigolo or had not worked his way up the latter yet.

We slowly came to a halt as we reached what I assumed was Blaine’s client’s diner, he was not kidding when he said it was discreet. In fact, if it was not for Blaine then I would have never assumed that there was a diner here in the first place. ”This it?” I asked hinting at a building that looked like it was in desperate need of a paint job. ”I promise I’ll be a little more willing to answer your questions when we are inside. I just can’t be announcing things on the street, the less people that know I am here the better. Besides I think we need to catch each other up on some more pressing matters than the present. Like what happened with my father, you might be the one person that will understand” I gave him a pained smiled as I pushed open the door.

ELEGANT

[Izzabel Bennet D8A (Jorg)]

B L A I N E

"It is all a little bit complicated..." she starts, the calculations clear in her voice. "I don't quite understand it all myself really. I have my specialty and kinda just stick to that, try not to make any waves or anything." her voice casual as she continues on.

"That makes sense if you're running an empire like theirs." Blaine thinks to himself as they walk down the narrow alleyways of Three. Moving out of the "city proper" into the areas where they could have this kind of conversation peacefully was a delicacy for Blaine. Growing up in the beachside suburbs of Four is a stark contrast to what he is living in now, but in a way, he's grateful for it. Back in Four, he thought he was safe and secure, even when his parents started to fall deeper into their addiction. Blaine thought he knew how to care for himself and had friends to rely on. Even when he was unsure what he was walking into. Were his parents even home? If so, what state were they in? Blaine hated to see when his parents were actively high. Those days were the worst when his parents would be conscious but not even on this plane of existence, too deep into where the morphling took them. Their comedowns made them willing to do anything for those successive highs, and Blaine learned how to hide extremely well. The days when they were gone, though, it was like living in his own little paradise, though he still knew how to keep an eye out for when his parents were coming home. Sometimes, it would be safer to go to Zada's. Or so he thought.

Blaine learned that familiarity was just a ruse and that, in the end, the people there were just looking out for their own self-interests and couldn't care less about the people around them. Either that, or they were policing their neighbors almost as much as the Peacekeepers were. Here, though, Blaine knew who he could trust without a doubt. He knew who to avoid, and there was a general understanding about knowing when to look the other way. Everyone had a fundamental experience of what was going on in these parts of the District, so everyone knew the rules in which to operate.

"You could call it a business deal of some sort." She answers my initial question that led us to this part of the town. "More like I am here to provide a service that a select few could pay for." She's getting coy again. Blaine understands why she gets that way, but it's still slightly annoying to him. "What about you, what kind of clients are we talking about?" she asks with not so subtle smirk on her face. Granted, it's only fair that she gets to ask questions.

"Escort services mostly, though I work for myself," Blaine explains as they continue down the road, their steps gradually getting slower as he can see our destination. "I didn't know anyone when I got here, and once most of the higher-ups heard that I was a minor, they avoided me. It makes sense, though, as they need to ensure they aren't attracting too much of the wrong attention. At least this way, I don't have to give a cut of my profits anyway. Stealing was a good way to keep myself afloat when I arrived. I still practice to ensure I don't lose that skill." They stop in front of the diner, and Zada gives a slight look of confused disgust.

"This it?"

"Yep." Blaine starts before Zada continues.

"I promise I'll be a little more willing to answer your questions when we are inside. I just can't be announcing things on the street, the less people that know I am here the better. Besides I think we need to catch each other up on some more pressing matters than the present. Like what happened with my father, you might be the one person that will understand," She says, her smile matching the pained tone of her voice. She opens one side of the double doors as I enter the other.

"Zada, you know you don't have to explain anything to me." He says as he follows her in. Luckily enough, it is late enough that the dinner rush has already passed, so it's pretty quiet. Amir still has spots that are guaranteed to be ignored, though.

"Amir!" Blaine calls out with open arms. He walks towards the back of the counter, hugging the burly man behind it. "How's it going? Care if we use the table in the back?" Amir returns the hug and agrees to it before confirming an appointment with him next week. They take their seats at the table, and Blaine looks at Zada, knowing her pain and reliving her experiences. He wants to make her feel comfortable, though.

"So, is it safe to assume someone decided to care for the old bastard?" Blaine asks, his voice empathetic yet still casual.

ELEGANT