obsessed with the mess {matta}

[✨ zozo.]

Quartz had forgotten what it felt like to be a winner. And sure, a bronze wasn't exactly first place - but hell, she had won a medal. An Olympic medal. After the initial shock of finding herself swimming again, the dozens of microphones shoved in her face and the flashes of cameras that captured what she had thought was a genuine smile on her lips had set in, everything seemed surreal. For a moment, her body had been lifted up, up, up from the tides that had consumed her, and she'd been free. Clutching to an anchor that lifted her high away from her fears and no longer tied her down where she drowned day after day.

But then, when the buzzing of crowds had died down, and she was left alone in her room, with no distractions to contain her ever-streaming thoughts that bounced off the walls, she'd began to sink again. And the bedroom walls that repelled became her only friends, just like her old friends had repelled her. She didn't care if they'd want to be her friend now that she was an Olympian. She didn't care about interviews or fancy clothes or stupid blue tracksuits. Quartz was like a newly-crowned Victor, half-way out of the arena, on their way home - and then the ladder unfroze and they were plummeted back down to where they left and faced with another 23 more tributes to kill. It crept back, ever so slowly. Just when she had thought she'd ridden her problems with rising stardom, it struck her down when she'd least expected it. And it became harder for the blonde to smile, harder to wave, harder to look her perkiest, medal-winning self around everyone she met. So be your old self, Q. Better to be numb than feel like shit.

But she'd promised she wouldn't. Forced that under, kept it flailing under the water until it lay as calm as the sea itself. Turning her body over on her mattress where she lay, her mind tampered with the idea. You're still just a poor little girl waiting for a happy ending.

[/i] But happy endings were shit, and this was real life, and Quartz never went down without a fight. Or rather, she never used to go down without a fight. And it was so easy, not caring. Not caring about others, not caring about how they felt, not caring about anyone else except herself. Feeling invincible. Oh, it was tempting.

Go on. Get up. Pretend like you care, shake it off, smile and laugh. You know what to do. Her limbs felt like lead and her bones concrete slabs, but she managed to haul herself away from the constricting bed and let her body creak into life. Away she fled, pattering barefooted down the hallways of her living arrangements and out into the open, wanting to explore the place whilst she had the time. With locks of hair still slightly damp from the water warming in the sunlight, she crept along one of the pathways quietly, minding her own business. The female District 4 cabins were nice enough, but curiosity got the better of her when she spied the males side of the area - wanting to check out the area. Not exactly sure if she was even allowed in the male dormitories - and frankly, not caring - the soles of her feet met the grass beneath her, and she was away.

From what the seventeen year old could see, their sleeping arrangements didn't look any different at all. In fact, they looked almost identical. Shrugging, she persisted onwards into the dorms out of pure curiosity, peering her head around the entrance doors to check for trouble before darting in and shutting the door behind her. With a twitch in the corner of her mouth that tasted like a snarky smile, blue eyes immediately landed on an assigned door - reading a familiar name. Titus Buttari, the boy who she'd snuck ahead of in the placings to snag his bronze medal away from, the boy who she'd beamed sourly at as she waved to the crowd, receiving a dark glare in return. The boy who had been placed on her team for the Medley relay, an action that she had been half-excited for, and half-dreading at the same time. Time for some fun. [/i]

Without even a mere knock at the door, Quartz entered the boy's room with a twist of her wrist and a confideent stride. Catching him off-guard seemed like a far more entertaining chain of events to start off with than a warning. [/color]"Hey, team mate," the teen chided sarcastically as she slid into the room and placed herself on the end of his bed, crossing her legs and raising her eyebrows cheekily as she spat out the last two syllables. "Still fuming over your, oh, what was it - fouth place?"

She was right - this beat being cooped up in a hole feeling sorry for herself any-day.

BA7F9E B9B8D0 "BA9BB7"

{ooc; ew i am sorry for this word-vomit excuse for a post :x}

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