seeing stars | Justice
Nov 21, 2016 0:48:29 GMT -5
Post by brad bradford ★ d5b [arx] on Nov 21, 2016 0:48:29 GMT -5
"My favorite color is the soft pink you see in the sky when the sun sets."
"Is she here yet?"
I ask not with a tone of impatience, but pure anxiety. Though I know if I don't swallow that down immediately there will be headlines about it tomorrow. Probably something along the lines of, 'Justice doesn't believe in sister!' or perhaps even, 'Fray plans to keep the crown to himself!' I can't have shit like that flying around. The family wouldn't approve, nor would my District.
I'm supposed to be confident. Confident in my sister, confident in Asha, confident in myself—
"Can't she do this interview instead?"
I ask, looking desperately for answers in the eyes of the people who are really just exploiting me. My stylist looks at me through the mirror. He shakes his head. No.
"It's not Ms. Earnest's sister who has become such a little star, Mr. Fray."
I take a deep, shuttering breath. It's popular opinion contention that when you win the hunger games you suddenly know all the answers. That you know how to act, know what to say and what to do. But I really don't know how I got here; I really just need someone to tell me what I'm supposed to feel. Because right now, I kinda just want to punch someone in the face until I can find the strength to cry. I catch my own eyes in the mirror. Pause.
Why did it have to be her?
"One minute!"
I jump to my feet, snapping my suspenders playfully for my prep team. They all chuckle as they sprinkle glitter in my hair. I give them one last smile before turning away towards the stage. I recognize the man who will be giving my interview, but I can't recall his name. He's got a smile that lights up the room. But there isn't a single thing I wouldn't give to have Sardonyx or Petelia or Opal out there with me instead.
"And without further ado, it is my greatest pleasure to welcome everyone's new favorite victor--"
I quickly snatch the neat lowball from the stage director's chair and throw it back. Ripred knows I deserved that drink. I force a smile onto my face, brighter than any I've put on before.
"Justice Fray!"
I wave, I grin, I wink. I shake his hand and pretend I'm excited to be here, sharing a stage with him. The whiskey burns in my throat, but burns warmly at my center. Comforting. I take a seat and chuckle at an enthusiastic fan who screams, "Marry me, Justice!" I nod and turn to my host who starts in by addressing it.
"Looks like we've got someone who's excited for a season of, 'The Bachelor.'"
There was a time when I would've enjoyed being considered as Katelyn's sequel. But it's almost impossible for me to hold back my disgust now.
"Oh we all know I'd enjoy that far too much."
There are hoots, hollers, and laughter from the crowd and from my host. I have to lower my head so that no one sees my smile break and my head spin. Just hurry up and ask my about Pillar already. Those are the questions that I prepared for today; those are the lies I was prepared to tell.
"So, Justice," he prompts, leaning forward onto his elbows. His breath smells like citrus. "Earlier today, we interviewed your brother, Kellan."
I lower my head, close my eyes, and bite my lip to keep the cameras from seeing my eyes roll into the back of my skull and hearing a groan of annoyance leaving my lips at the mention of my eldest brother. Because, yes, even after I've won the Hunger Games, he's the fucking idol.
"He was very proud of Pillar. She already has two kills under her belt, one of which was rather-- illuminating."
I keep my head lowered and my eyes glued shut so they can't see the disgust on my face. The way she had lit Bolts on fire, watched him turn to ashes before her eyes... It was hard to believe that was even Pillar fighting in there. And to use the word illuminating-- My eyes burst open when I see Iris slashing a flaming sword at my eyes, when the smell of burnt flesh replaces the smell of citrus.
"Your sister, Scout, she was a warrior. It's a rather popular opinion that had she not attached herself to Celia Mortuus she may ha--"
I don't need a lecture in history. I know all of it. I know that Pillar is not the first District 1 female to burn someone alive. And I know the last one who did came home alive. And I know what everyone thinks of the way Scout had placed her affections in Celia Mortuus. I know she would've made it home had she not been tempted by lust. And yes, I do know that both Scout and Celia had twins. And yes, I know that Hyacinth is that twin. And yes, I know she and Pillar don't have the greatest of relations.
This is how it's always going to be for me though, right? My life and the events surrounding it dramatized to fit the entertainment needs of the public? As long as the Capitol has its story--
"Pillar is being compared to careers like Avon Lightwood and Pearl Millison," he says, his face serious as he looks into his scripted facts and figures.
"What are your thoughts on that, Justice?"
I chuckle and sit back in my chair.
"I'd say Avon and Pearl were much prettier than my runt sister."
The crowd laughs and I smile, following up the comment when my gracious host looks like he's about to ask another question.
"But I'm very proud of her all the same. She's strong, I'll admit that much. Like you said, her second kill was--" I try not to gag on the word.
"Illuminating, in, uh, more ways than one."
He chuckles as my smile falls flat on my face. But as soon as he starts in on his next question his expression becomes serious.
"Yes, we all remember the way you reacted when you heard your sister's name called at the Reaping," he says with a somber tone, as a replay of the Reaping play on a big screen behind me.
The crowd grows quiet as I fixate on the screens surrounding me. I blink as I watch it happen all over again, feel the horror coursing through my veins all over again, see the faces of the dead walking beside my sister to lead her to an early grave. He pauses the replay as I rush out of my chair, staring at my sister as she walks to the stage. I don't blink. I don't breathe. My ears are ringing, but I can still hear his question: "Can you tell us what you were feeling? In this moment?"
The day Machaon and Atlas had to drag me away from the fight with Natalie, Minos, and Daniel, I was afraid. I'd never admit it to anyone, but I was terrified. I was so sure that I was going to die. I was afraid that if I closed my eyes I would never open them again. I was afraid that I'd never get the chance to be a better man. And I thought I was going to die without ever learning how to say sorry.
When I watched Pillar walk towards me that day, I felt like I was never going to open my eyes again. Because I hadn't changed fast enough. Because I've still never been able to look her in the eyes and say sorry. And I've still never been strong enough to admit that I love her.
And I'm still not.
"Oh, I was just worried about the Fray family reputation being upheld," I say, laughing. "I was hoping one of my other sisters might volunteer."
A few people laugh along with me as the screens change to show picture of my family. My host nods and smiles.
"So you don't think Pillar has what it takes?"
I pause for a few beats, leaning forward in my seat.
"Not then, but now is a very different story."
He smiles at me so I smile back, nod to the crowd who is clapping now to fill the void. I begin to stand, believing the interview to be over when he grabs me by the shoulder, looking into his script to ask me one last question. I sit back down, trying to let the sound of cheering and clapping comfort me. When the crowd finally quiets down, he speaks.
"If we could just get one final answer from you, Justice. What do you think of the other tributes?"
I grin.
"What's it matter? They're all going to be dead within the next week."
I don't know how, but I manage to hold down my lunch until after I've locked myself in the bathroom.
Please let her come home.
Please.
I ask not with a tone of impatience, but pure anxiety. Though I know if I don't swallow that down immediately there will be headlines about it tomorrow. Probably something along the lines of, 'Justice doesn't believe in sister!' or perhaps even, 'Fray plans to keep the crown to himself!' I can't have shit like that flying around. The family wouldn't approve, nor would my District.
I'm supposed to be confident. Confident in my sister, confident in Asha, confident in myself—
"Can't she do this interview instead?"
I ask, looking desperately for answers in the eyes of the people who are really just exploiting me. My stylist looks at me through the mirror. He shakes his head. No.
"It's not Ms. Earnest's sister who has become such a little star, Mr. Fray."
I take a deep, shuttering breath. It's popular opinion contention that when you win the hunger games you suddenly know all the answers. That you know how to act, know what to say and what to do. But I really don't know how I got here; I really just need someone to tell me what I'm supposed to feel. Because right now, I kinda just want to punch someone in the face until I can find the strength to cry. I catch my own eyes in the mirror. Pause.
Why did it have to be her?
"One minute!"
I jump to my feet, snapping my suspenders playfully for my prep team. They all chuckle as they sprinkle glitter in my hair. I give them one last smile before turning away towards the stage. I recognize the man who will be giving my interview, but I can't recall his name. He's got a smile that lights up the room. But there isn't a single thing I wouldn't give to have Sardonyx or Petelia or Opal out there with me instead.
"And without further ado, it is my greatest pleasure to welcome everyone's new favorite victor--"
I quickly snatch the neat lowball from the stage director's chair and throw it back. Ripred knows I deserved that drink. I force a smile onto my face, brighter than any I've put on before.
"Justice Fray!"
I wave, I grin, I wink. I shake his hand and pretend I'm excited to be here, sharing a stage with him. The whiskey burns in my throat, but burns warmly at my center. Comforting. I take a seat and chuckle at an enthusiastic fan who screams, "Marry me, Justice!" I nod and turn to my host who starts in by addressing it.
"Looks like we've got someone who's excited for a season of, 'The Bachelor.'"
There was a time when I would've enjoyed being considered as Katelyn's sequel. But it's almost impossible for me to hold back my disgust now.
"Oh we all know I'd enjoy that far too much."
There are hoots, hollers, and laughter from the crowd and from my host. I have to lower my head so that no one sees my smile break and my head spin. Just hurry up and ask my about Pillar already. Those are the questions that I prepared for today; those are the lies I was prepared to tell.
"So, Justice," he prompts, leaning forward onto his elbows. His breath smells like citrus. "Earlier today, we interviewed your brother, Kellan."
I lower my head, close my eyes, and bite my lip to keep the cameras from seeing my eyes roll into the back of my skull and hearing a groan of annoyance leaving my lips at the mention of my eldest brother. Because, yes, even after I've won the Hunger Games, he's the fucking idol.
"He was very proud of Pillar. She already has two kills under her belt, one of which was rather-- illuminating."
I keep my head lowered and my eyes glued shut so they can't see the disgust on my face. The way she had lit Bolts on fire, watched him turn to ashes before her eyes... It was hard to believe that was even Pillar fighting in there. And to use the word illuminating-- My eyes burst open when I see Iris slashing a flaming sword at my eyes, when the smell of burnt flesh replaces the smell of citrus.
"Your sister, Scout, she was a warrior. It's a rather popular opinion that had she not attached herself to Celia Mortuus she may ha--"
I don't need a lecture in history. I know all of it. I know that Pillar is not the first District 1 female to burn someone alive. And I know the last one who did came home alive. And I know what everyone thinks of the way Scout had placed her affections in Celia Mortuus. I know she would've made it home had she not been tempted by lust. And yes, I do know that both Scout and Celia had twins. And yes, I know that Hyacinth is that twin. And yes, I know she and Pillar don't have the greatest of relations.
This is how it's always going to be for me though, right? My life and the events surrounding it dramatized to fit the entertainment needs of the public? As long as the Capitol has its story--
"Pillar is being compared to careers like Avon Lightwood and Pearl Millison," he says, his face serious as he looks into his scripted facts and figures.
"What are your thoughts on that, Justice?"
I chuckle and sit back in my chair.
"I'd say Avon and Pearl were much prettier than my runt sister."
The crowd laughs and I smile, following up the comment when my gracious host looks like he's about to ask another question.
"But I'm very proud of her all the same. She's strong, I'll admit that much. Like you said, her second kill was--" I try not to gag on the word.
"Illuminating, in, uh, more ways than one."
He chuckles as my smile falls flat on my face. But as soon as he starts in on his next question his expression becomes serious.
"Yes, we all remember the way you reacted when you heard your sister's name called at the Reaping," he says with a somber tone, as a replay of the Reaping play on a big screen behind me.
The crowd grows quiet as I fixate on the screens surrounding me. I blink as I watch it happen all over again, feel the horror coursing through my veins all over again, see the faces of the dead walking beside my sister to lead her to an early grave. He pauses the replay as I rush out of my chair, staring at my sister as she walks to the stage. I don't blink. I don't breathe. My ears are ringing, but I can still hear his question: "Can you tell us what you were feeling? In this moment?"
The day Machaon and Atlas had to drag me away from the fight with Natalie, Minos, and Daniel, I was afraid. I'd never admit it to anyone, but I was terrified. I was so sure that I was going to die. I was afraid that if I closed my eyes I would never open them again. I was afraid that I'd never get the chance to be a better man. And I thought I was going to die without ever learning how to say sorry.
When I watched Pillar walk towards me that day, I felt like I was never going to open my eyes again. Because I hadn't changed fast enough. Because I've still never been able to look her in the eyes and say sorry. And I've still never been strong enough to admit that I love her.
And I'm still not.
"Oh, I was just worried about the Fray family reputation being upheld," I say, laughing. "I was hoping one of my other sisters might volunteer."
A few people laugh along with me as the screens change to show picture of my family. My host nods and smiles.
"So you don't think Pillar has what it takes?"
I pause for a few beats, leaning forward in my seat.
"Not then, but now is a very different story."
He smiles at me so I smile back, nod to the crowd who is clapping now to fill the void. I begin to stand, believing the interview to be over when he grabs me by the shoulder, looking into his script to ask me one last question. I sit back down, trying to let the sound of cheering and clapping comfort me. When the crowd finally quiets down, he speaks.
"If we could just get one final answer from you, Justice. What do you think of the other tributes?"
I grin.
"What's it matter? They're all going to be dead within the next week."
I don't know how, but I manage to hold down my lunch until after I've locked myself in the bathroom.
Please let her come home.
Please.
JUSTICE FRAY