backstage — eurydice &. harper [blitz]

[napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

The first thing Eurydice does when the news of her running go out is fire her campaign manager.

She’s never needed anyone in the past – and she certainly would not start now. When has another’s expertise ever been better than your own? How could they know about the reason she’s doing this for, and even if they do, how would they feel the ever-present ache in her chest that serves as the foundation of this campaign?

How can they match the pain she’s poured into this?

This was a one-woman show, and Eurydice is well aware of it. She absently rubs the many jeweled bracelets on her wrist and carries her eyes to the full-length mirror in her room. In the glass sits a glorious creature, dressed in gold, every inch of her wealth manifest. She’s always known reflections to lie, but not the extent of the said lie. Eurydice looks like a beacon of power when all she is, beneath all the gold and glory, is broken.

For a moment, as she leans closer to the mirror, this brokenness emerges from under the facade and it’s familiar, it’s raw, it’s truly her.

But then she hears the sound of her door opening and her golden armor clicks back into place. She straightens her spine, reaches for an earring on a nearby table, then watches as Harper makes his way across the room to her with all his lax grace that she's taught him.

“Be a dear and help your mother put on her earrings will you? It’s bein’ a fucking asshole as always.” Eurydice offers him the accessory. “I take it that the campaign party is all ready for guests? If the champagne isn’t poured, I am going to be hugely disappointed.” There is also a second reason to why she’d fired the campaign manager and it’s because she already has the best team she could ever wish for: her family.

And she's fine, she's glorious, she's powerful, like she hasn't just lost her other son, like she hasn't just lost a big piece of herself.

Being mayor wouldn't replace that, but perhaps it would make her stop feeling so helpless. 

[Benson Sharpe D3M [Tom]]

Harper Le Roux hadn't mourned Emmett once.

The past was better left in the past - like a passing sun where Emmett used to be. Sunrise would always come with a golden glow of memories with his younger brother, almost wishing it had been him who stepped into the arena, spilled blood for the Le Roux name and let Emmett Le Roux breath for once. As the oldest, he had failed, let his younger brother pretend to be the strongest, until he came home in a casket, blood red from Five's knife. It's why he's chosen his favorite dark red button up to match the memory of staring at the screen, pretending like he was fine, but letting the anger boil through his skin.

Emmett Le Roux deserved better than any of them could have given him. With his mother running for mayor, the Le Rouxs continue their conquest of one and the capitol, ever so slowly. His mother had always been a powerful leader, head of their family and keeping them all in check. Days spent of smiling at his mother and wishing he could be just like her; pristine and powerful. Silently like a yearning lion filled with the desire to help out, he enters her room, smiling with the same smile he was taught to bear witness to the world.

"Be a dear and help your mother put on her earrings will you? It’s bein’ a fucking asshole as always." His mother had always been put together, but moments where he can see parts of her breaking from that image where things he stored away as a reminder of how much he appreciates her. Silently, he grabs for the earrings, taking in their design and aesthetic before humming approval. "I take it that the campaign party is all ready for guests? If the champagne isn’t poured, I am going to be hugely disappointed."

The laugh that escapes his throat surprises him.

"Yes, we're ready. I already poured a few glasses for everyone." Brushing his mother's hair back gently, taking in her appearance. Silently, he approved of her choices, though there could have been a bit of a better hairstyle, but he bites his tongue because his mother must know what she was doing. "Here, let's just get this in place." Fingers gently working the earrings on, face scrunched up in concentration as he finally gets them into place. Quietly, he smiles at her, lets himself feel the grief that still hasn't quite left him.

"You already look like mayor. Emmett would have been proud."