1 slash million baby! beckenzo

[Deleted]

"Well, hello there, Beck comma Hailsham,

Hailsham? Darlin', you're more of a real spark- fuck no, no no that's not the one." he clears his throat.

"Oh yeah, district four? I've heard of it." Lorenzo licks his thumb and slicks down his eyebrow, "you can say I know my way around... a ... clamshe- ugh, gross." I hate this. 

---

Mace has been drinking tea for the longest, and I ain't got nothin better to do but shake my leg. I'm generally impatient through and through, but I've got a whole night planned ahead of this! Victors, they practically just walk through the doors around these parts and I'm competing with a lot here. I mean, Mace and Saffron are charmers and have the status, Kieran is every bit as appealing and Paige is-

so anyways, I've got a lot of competition here. Which is fine! I mean, look at me, I'm sure I can hold my own. I excused myself early - real polite too, don't worry - mostly just to get ready, I'm not really trynna fuck with this guy, maybe just like, dance the disco with him, you know? You catch my drift? Yeah, you might. 

Wait-
No not like that, whatever ok

I'm not too sure myself why I want to impress this kid. The other victors have made their way through here too, I mean, that district eleven kid and I remember Riddley coming through here once and I was convinced I was getting married in the most respectful way. I completely get why the capitol pulls favorites after I've seen her in real life, but Beck's just- I don't know, Beck? I just feel like I'm missing every shot that walks on through.

And hell, maybe me and him can be partners somewhere down the road and start a fashion brand together and maybe I'll catch enough leeway to own a small apartment in the capitol in which I brand small leather belts for anklet straps and fuckin' Cricket Antoinette is caught in one of my designs one day- our designs. Our designs there's two of us, but anyways that launches our career into full motion and from there we-

"Lorenzo!"

"YEA DAD-?"

"Come say goodbye to our guest, it's about time to wrap things up!"

Fuck, fuck, fuck- "already?!" Alright, I practically sling myself from my bedroom, hastily throwing the tassle jacket on me however fast I can. "Aww, what? I barely got to talk to him! Haha, can't I just walk him to his carriage or somethin'?" My hair's a mess, I hope I don't look desperate or whatever hahaha. I don't know quite how to size up Beck now that he's standing, but I make my way down the stairs towards him anywho. I'm used to victors, I live amongst them, I am the-

"haha, big fan by the way!" Hmm. 

I think I'm over-complicating things here. 

He lived, I died, I lived, he's rich, I'm rich -- we're practically just a like! I shouldn't have this much problem just talking to him, relating to him. We've got to be friends- wait, what? No, no just relaaaax. I toss him a small wave before Mace shrugs us off, which is good! Means it's just merman and cowboy over here, hmm, I actually didn't plan what would happen if I made it this far.

Honestly, I may just wing it, that sounds good. I make eye contact and think to myself damn, I guess I actually have to start thinking up an idea now. "Lorenzo Emberstatt! My honor to talk one on one," and I reach out my hand. 

Not the grand re-entrance I had imagined, but eh. It'll fuckin' do.

[ᴥ]

b e c k .

"former heroes
who quit too late
who just wanna fill up
the trophy case again."

Jealousy was ugly. It burned the back of this throat, leaving expensive teas tasteless as he tried his best to swallow them through a mouth made of cotton. The Emberstatts had been lovely, of course they were lovely. Their mansion was the embodiment of autumn nights, filled with rosy scents and the bitter tang of happiness. Kisses were places on cheeks, lips curled up at the corners in grins they needn't fake, they loved each other like that was the easiest thing in the world.

It was like watching a dream play out in front of him, his hands pressed to the frosted glass that kept them segregated. They could try to welcome him with open arms but Beck knew how this would end. This wasn't his world to claim. There were no broken parts of him to fix, nothing that could be pieced together and all of a sudden make him worthy. He was inherently undeserving.

It felt voyeuristic to linger somewhere so pleasant. He was getting better at polite conversation and controlled smiles. Nine districts full of this bullshit and you pick up a trick here and there. District Ten though? This one was getting to him. Like sandpaper against his skin, tearing through the polished finish and revealing the scars that should still be there. Shame that no one had wanted to see them.

He's scared he'll bolt again. It was a horrible habit he'd developed, an easy way to make things stop hurting and to feel like he was in control instead of controlled. How ironic, then, that he can't help these cravings. A coward made of cigarette smoke. His palms have gone sweaty, knee bouncing hard against the table tying him to the floor. The prospect of a bruise blooming across the skin there earns the ghost of a smile, but not much more.

"It's getting late, I should get going," His voice is hoarse but he hopes his smile is distracting enough. There's a rush a warm goodbyes, the kind with flames that should be pleasant but only manage to chafe against the back of his neck like this damn starched collar. Mace shouts upstairs and then it hits him.

A flash of starlight, feet hitting the floor in frantic crescendos and the moment Lorenzo speaks he steals laughter right from Beck's lungs. His hair's a nest but he's got a face that pulls off that kind of look, like his colors were meant to bleed outside the lines and it would crime to confine them to those blackened borders.

His eyes wrinkle at the corners as his hand flies to his mouth, hiding a real smile and stifling the laughter he cannot seem to stop. "I'm not that exciting I promise." He speaks in between peals of giggles, voice gone breathy as he gives Lorenzo's hand a good shake. "I'm barely house trained, I don't think they've started teaching me tricks yet."

This isn't the same amber glow as the other Emberstatts, all soft edges and sweet smiles. He's blinding, so painful that Beck doesn't feel quite so out of place anymore. Lorenzo seems about his age, a realization that makes him wince when he remembers just why the boy was standing in front of him now, dressed in fine cloth instead of the rags he'd seen hanging from the others in Ten.

He couldn't have been much older than-

yeah, wow, not gonna think about that.

"You're in charge of getting me home safe, then?" He holds out his arm, looking down at Lorenzo as though for permission to play this game. There's a terrible guilt tugging at the corners of his smirk and he knows he doesn't deserve this. If he's lucky, someone will still tell him it's okay. "Lead the way, Mr. Emberstatt."

[Deleted]

This kid looks so much different than when I saw him on television- is that rude to say out loud? I probably shouldn't, huh. Yeah, I can see Saffron or Mace getting upset at a comment like that, and besides I can't judge too much. It's not like I was looking the prettiest on my return home, I practically looked like a zombie or something. 

I mean, seriously! Have you ever died and woke up the next day and then had to stand in front of your entire district three days later, as if you had managed to do something? Shit, now I kinda feel bad for judging Beck; I mean, I can't imagine I looked too great running around like I had half a brain connected. And all I did was get attacked by those fucking birds.

He actually killed people!

Hmm. I probably shouldn't say that out loud either. You see, I'm getting good at this whole "keeping my mouth shut" thing- I used to be awful at it. Hell, Reggie nearly took my second life when I told her what she looked like with her hair in a bun, but you learn bit by bit anyways. The more I look at Beck, I piece a little bit more of the night together. 

I like his attitude! 

"Humble, yeah?!" 

Fuckin' sweet! I can't stop myself from getting giddy really, it's like I'm living in the world's hardest house of first impressions. I love my family, but standing out against Saffron, Kieran, Mace, Paige, Reggie, it's fuckin' hard! And that's why I'm just gonna start like, attacking people, y'know? 

Well, not attacking -- aggressive, that's what I was thinking. You gotta be aggressive if you wanna make friends nowadays, and that's my middle name baby! Lorenzo Keith Aggressive Emberstatt prev. Pevek! The second. Just kidding, but maybe? I'm not too sure, I never met that guy. 

He takes my hand, and most people would be shell shocked but not me, I stand with my chest out. "Oh ho ho, mister Emberstatt? C'mon, that's my dad's name!" I stare him down over my shoulder, stupid grin over my face, "appreciate you takin' note of the name change though, it's on my birth certificate and everything. Bonafide Emberstatt," I keep my pace a little bit ahead of his until we reach the door, holding it open for him.

"BE BACK SOMETIME TONIGHT BYEEE LOVE YOU POPS," met with the punctuation of a closed door. Did I say tonight? Oh yes I did! Legal kidnapping here, "So," I can see why the capitol chose him. He definitely holds some attention, and I can't say I'm not jealous of him, with the whole crown and scepter package. I can practically taste the seasalt breeze off him, I wonder what it's like living so close to the ocean.

So close to Annie. 

"I figured I could show you around District Ten a little, show you all the prairie you're missing out on when you go back home, ya know?"  

I think I'm still terrified of Annie. The fact that she already has a successor barely four years later, there's something fierce about her that still sets me but that may just be four's citizens as a whole. Are you scared of her too, Beck? I can't think of anything he could be scared of, it must be different when you come out the other end without dying. 

As we walk, I hesitate trying to put my arm around his neck -- too much touching, don't be fuckin' weird, Enzo. "Ahem," clearing my throat and fiddling with the shitty polaroid camera in my pocket, "you ever rode a bull before? We could try that out, or I can take you around some cool places, either's fine with me!"

"Besides," a sarcastic nod, "I'm sure you've around seen the city, we gotta get some ranch in ya."

[ᴥ]

b e c k .

"former heroes
who quit too late
who just wanna fill up
the trophy case again."

There's something wonderful about getting swept up in the whirlwind that is Lorenzo Emberstatt. He moves a mile a minute, speaking too fast although he's adopted that heavy tongue that so many in Ten seem to possess. Beck can barely cling to the ends of his sentences, following after Lorenzo with heavy steps that would have wavered if not for the lead his companion has taken.

He doesn't look at Beck like he's a ghost or a shattered mirror with blood leaking from blunt edges or even the monster that Walter had wanted him to be. Beck can't quite see past the light dancing in his eyes no matter how long he looks and it occurs to him too late that it's far longer than is socially acceptable. The night's air bites into his cheeks, cutting through the warmth that pools there. There must be something hiding beneath that smile, right? No one is beautiful for their own sake.

Fuck. He feels like a fool. Awestruck as a child as his gaze falls upon fields dusted in moonlight, free of the ocean's incessant roar as she throws herself upon the rocks again and again. Winning a war of sheer will. What was he fighting for if she remained? If she still surrounded that island that was now only full of the ghosts they couldn't save. Sea breeze and salt still smelled like death. Hailsham was gone and that was supposed to have meant something.

District Ten is wonderful away from the flash of greedy cameras. You don't have to climb upon rotten roofs to see the stars here. He squeezes Lorenzo's hand gently, signaling for him to stop as he drinks in every inch of the world around him. Greedy, desperate not to forget the something good that he's finally found. There's so few silver linings since they died.

He dreams of them a lot. Silas and Sophie, laid back on mildew ridden dirt and staring up at the sky like he'd promised they would some day. He tries to remember how their hands felt in his, was Sophie's smaller? Was Silas' larger? Were they warm or cold or slick with blood and-

that's when the storm rolled in. Its eye chased him down, engulfing him within a peace that was both taunting and gentle. Still stained with Walter's blood and so quiet that his own screams echoed back at him sounding just like laughter."A bull?" He pulls himself away from the memories with some difficulty. They were always there. Lingering just out of view.

Yeah, yeah. They're playing a game, he remembers. He tries to dig his nails into the palm of his free hand in a desperate attempt to ground himself but - right - that hand's not a hand anymore. God he's pathetic. It's like his body doesn't remember how to be a person, to be anything more than a vessel for those that dragged themselves out of that fucking arena with him.

He wonders if Lorenzo could understand but he doesn't want to ask. Today is full of pretend happy endings, of families and friends and all the things no one thought Beck deserved until he made himself a murderer.

Anatalia got to keep them, didn't she? Her ghosts were made of flesh and blood and he hated her for it. He was disgustingly, absolutely, envious.

"Alright, can't say I've ridden a bull before Lorenzo." He stresses the name, tugging gently on his hand - searching for an answer to a question he's not sure he's asking. "I'm not letting you off easy, if you wanna impress me you better give me all you've got." He wants to live, to really live. If not forever then just for tonight.

"Let's do something that'll make headlines for weeks if they find us, yeah?"

[Deleted]

It's just a squeeze. 

I stop walking and just look at him, there isn't anything said for a second. It's hard for a second to think that I didn't fuck up somewhere between the lines, he must still be fragile. We always are, whenever we're given to the capitol and brought back and seventeen years down the road I'm still not shaving my tongue down. I feel like every step I'm sticking my foot in my mouth and the sole of my boot still hasn't managed to shave my tongue any. It's all just stupid, the heat in my face drops and I'm just a fucking idiot. 

Shit, Mace will fucking kill me. For being fucking stupid! Again! Isn't that some shit, I don't know how I'm still so goddamn useless, I look at Beck and I don't see anything. Not the ocean, not a killer, not a person, he's just holding my hand and I'm just standing here- I bet he's weak. I bet I could kill him, what am I saying? Holy shit, just don't break me kid, for fucks sake. I can't piss this guy off, or Mace will hate me, and I can't kill him because Mace will hate me-

what am I thinking?! I'm not gonna fucking hurt him, god. 

Beck's probably just shell-shocked, I look him in the eyes and exhale. I can't imagine, walking through that door and actually seeing the other side. Saffron keeps telling myself I can't blame myself for the 80th but it feels like the more I think I've grown from it, the more I hate myself even more. I didn't do anything- I didn't do fucking anything! Beck gets to see the whole world, in a day, no more worries, he lived and I lived and he gets the crown and I get bullhorns and bruises. 

And I'm jealous. 

"A bull?"

"Well. Yeah!"

First time in district ten, I can't imagine. I've never been to district nine, it's my own neighbor- I've never had the regulation passed to let me too. No business inquiries, I've never been to one, I've never been to two, I've never been to three- he gets to see it all this month. He gets to shake my father's hand and walk away and give Annie a hug, because they're victors, and he gets to move on. Next year, he will be on stage holding the hands of two careers with more of a chance of surviving that I ever will. 

And next year, I will be in the crowd. Temple is not in the bowl, but I am. 

I've always been. 

And if I'm reaped again, he is just one more victor who will watch me a second time. And he and Annie will train a career to kill me, and no one will blame them, and Mace will be pissed if I take this kid bull riding, man. I mean, Beck could really get hurt! "Well shit, looks like you're getting some tricks in early, baby!" 

I chuckle, before and after, both for the same reason. God, I can't believe I'm still acting like this, but my heart can't help but bleed when I imagine us in headlines together. "That is what I am fuckin' talkin' about!" A boy who gets me, some people just know just what to say to a kid like me, y'know. 

Oh, I'll impress you alright. 

"Alright, alright," I give him a little tug, "if we're gonna get there without somebody thinkin' you've gone missing, you're gonna have to walk at my pace, alright?" Just gotta keep up! Peak fitness and all of that, I know you just got finished brutally fighting for your life only to be sent into a deep recovery state and thrown around for the world to question or whatever, but you're gonna have to keep up, okay?  

I'm scared to let his fingers go, if I'm being honest. They kinda just slip limp between mine and I keep my eyes on him just to make sure he actually sticks around, "c'mon! I'll go slow for ya!" Something playful, it isn't too too far, it's actually something Kieran showed me - crazy, right? Hard to think he was messin' around with bulls too much, but I guess he wasn't always such an old dad. 

The joke here is that he just had kids alright, make your own jokes if you wanna laugh. I skid to a stop a little early, just to check if Beck is really paying attention. Best he has some clue, "there's a pasture not too far from here, all you've gotta do is dip below the property fence and head straight." I say, catching my breath in the middle and watching him all the way. I hold two wires gaped for him, "of course, from there you've gotta cut through the tree line and head somewhere past where all those slimy moss rocks are, don't get back jaw-checked by Old Frocker's old bessies, and then you just go left and there's a shiiiit ton of bulls that stick around there because kids come out of the tree line and they wait for easy prey to feast on."

But anyways. The metal clacks together as Beck slides through the other side, I guess he's keeping up fine! Those good reflexes, beautiful big brain, it's what we want from our victors nowadays. "Your hair's still holdin' together, what products're they putting in there?"  

[ᴥ]

b e c k .

"former heroes
who quit too late
who just wanna fill up
the trophy case again."

The thrill of rebellion is intoxicating, sinking deep into his bones with every stolen second. His breath is coming in shaking gasps, the ghost of another anxiety attack, but Lorenzo's every word feels like a challenge. A jolt of electricity that keeps them tethered together as they steal through the night like a couple of bandits tied up in black silk. I'll go slow for ya! Beck scoffs and clicks his tongue, caught up in bravado that's little more than a knee-jerk reaction. "Don't you dare, Cowboy."

He probably can't keep up, bum leg and all, but he's pretending tonight. It's comforting to know he has a little bit of pride still rattling around somewhere in there. Complacency bred of fear and sleep deprivation has lost itself in the bite of an evening breeze. Lorenzo talks a lot, like a lot but it's kind of nice. Beck hangs on his every word, nodding along when his cadence dips because he doesn't want Lorenzo to think he isn't keeping up.

Truth be told, he's not scared of these bulls. Which is ironic considering Beck's been scared of his own shadow since returning from the arena - dark corners are swollen with ghosts and skeletons and everything he'd rather forget - but this feels different. The anticipation sends a cacophonous heartbeat into his ears, filling up his head with such a pleasant buzzing that it leaves no room to feel anything else. It's eerily familiar, like the highs he'd chased behind closed doors and not under open sky.

He takes the lead after squeezing through the fencing, rubbing his knee where the prosthetic meets it. He's still not quite used to it, a part of him doubts he ever will be. Some pieces of him died in that arena, there's no use in pretending they didn't.

Following Lorenzo's directions was a bit more difficult than he'd anticipated, every landmark he'd pointed out is distorted in the velvet of night. But there's a part of him that really wants to impress Lorenzo Emberstatt and that is what keeps him moving. Forward, going somewhere that might actually just be nowhere. "Dunno what they put in it." He rubs the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture. Sailor slicked it back sometimes with something that smelled obnoxiously masculine, other times she just blew some hot air in his face and called it quits.

"I don't really care about that stuff. In fact, I hate it." He shouldn't be saying this. Fear balls up his knuckles and his steps soften. "Makeup and hair gel and shit, it doesn't feel like me." Beck doesn't know who he is, but he can be relatively certain it's none of that. Hailsham had robbed him of his sense of self and he thought victory would mean freedom but this fate felt just as suffocating. It'd be a lie to say the thought of why'd I even bother hadn't crossed his mind on more than one occasion.

"But no, I gotta be Beck Hailsham. The Victor. Swear to god the way they dress me up makes me feel like a doll." Perfect and porcelain, that was all anyone had ever wanted him to be. He scuffs his shoe, wrinkling his nose as the scent of manure becomes overwhelming. They had to be close, right? Hopefully or else he was scared of what might slip amidst this adrenaline rush.

He clears his throat, feeling more than just a little awkward. So much for impressing Lorenzo Emberstatt. "But maybe I'm on the precipice of discovering my passion for bull-riding, huh? Could be worse."

It hangs in the air, unsaid.

I could be dead.

[Deleted]

Y'know, a lot of people get it wrong about the whole missing ear thing. People think it impairs your hearin' but it really doesn't, I can hear perfectly fine - I think. Saffron says I don't ever listen really, but that's just Saff saying that. And I feel like I'm provin' her wrong listening to Beck talk, mostly about hair gel but man I'm such a good listener. 

I don't even use hair gel! God, Beck and I have so much in common already, I can already tell we'll be good business partners y'know? Hell, we could probably make hair gel, and it'd be perfect! We can advertise it to those district four careers who want that wet beach curls and we can slap my face and his name on it and call it a day, I can't do nothin' but smile while he talks. 

"Well, hey, Beck Hailsham the Victor seems pretty fuckin' fun to me so far!" And I can't help but laugh a little, the way he must be in his head about it- it doesn't seem fair. Not for a guy like this to be so hard on himself, but I gotta remind myself I don't know him yet. "I know they're gonna edit you down to hell and back, but at least you know who you want Beck Hailsham to be," man.

I fuckin' suck at complimenting people, huh. 

We're somewhat there, to the bulls, that is. I stop to tighten up my laces just a bit more and I burst out an ugly laugh when he starts talkin' again, "AHA- precipice?!

They must've taught you that when they were busy makin' you a doll or something, I ain't got a clue what that word means." Something like, raining right? Like, that scientific word for rain, and I wanna bring that up but then I remember the arena he was in and whew boy. That might not be his favorite topic at the moment, "but hey, you never know! Beck the Bull-King's got a nice ring to it," 

hmm. I bounce a little in my next few steps coming into the clearing, pushing the hair off my forehead and mentally preparing myself for the sweat. I'm not gonna lie, I haven't messed around with any bulls in a while, and there's a bundle of nerves in my gut trying to tell Beck how to do it. "Okay, so you've done horse riding, right? Sure ya have-" let's pretend he's got the basics here. 

Just ignore the doubt! It'll go away on its own, we'll be fine. "So these aren't really wild, so we've got the upper hand, Frocker's already got them strapped in the ropes so all you've gotta do is jump on the flat part of their back and hold on." and I squat a little in this motion, just to demonstrate, "you'll probably last, eh, five seconds? Which is good! Eight seconds is good, most people don't last too long," reassure him a little, don't over shoot here kid. 

You die out here and I'm pretty sure I will too, haha. 

"I'll count the seconds, but don't get eager, when you think it's time to jump make sure you run perpendicular- that's a word you'd like!" I smile and point at him again, "now, these bulls still have their horns, so uhh," my voice lowers the closer we walk up to the bulls in their enclosure. I start climbing the metal bars and offer my hand if he needs it, "be careful, Beck!"