tighten your short shorts // kyler & lore

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l o r r a i n e

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"If I have to wear under armor for the rest of this week, I will kill somebody," you hear me? It's combination estradiol withdrawl and munchies from the roach I keep trying to hit, but I'm hangry, and I'm tired of being ugly. Everybody assumes it's hard, being a tribute, and that's why I'm here right? I want my life to be harder and to be the victim of the year, but the cameras aren't even rolling. I'm suffering.

For free.

It's day one and all I've done is mope and talk to hot people, except now I'm in pants with spandex waist bands. I'm sweating my good foundation off and I don't think Shelby'll go home to eight just to get me a replacement fix -- why is my life like this. I signed up for it, sure, but I didn't sign up for cruel and unusual punishment. Seven's sitting alone until I get there, daddy's money is eating meat pies for the first time in his life probably, "alright tall, dark and handsome, tell me your secrets." 

He looks well off, to say the least. Comfortable, I want to say I'm a good judge of character but I always just assume I'm better than everyone. Maybe I should work on humbling myself, but first, "please tell me you've got a tank top hanging around somewhere." 

Say it's your tribute token and give it to me. I won't even complain about sweat at this point. 

[eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris]

k y l e r

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This is supposed to be the part where I encourage you to try new things. Yay, adventure.

But if there's anything trustworthy about me, literally anything all, then believe me when I say this: avoid the meat pies. Don't get me wrong, I know I sound ridiculous right now. My priorities are a little off. There's no reason to be picky when you're being fed by the people who want to see you dead in a week, yeah, that's a fair point — but we have to draw a line somewhere.

This is the fucking Capitol.

I was told the Games didn't start until you were in the arena, but I guess we're all just making things up as we go. There's an actual death trap on my plate. Wow, these are totally safe conditions. I glare at it, my face scrunched up into a grumpy and pitiful pout. 6'5" and every last bit of me is petty. Right down to the core. And that's another thing I know.

I'm annoying, and messy.

( Hot, too. Let me have that much. )

You know why I'm here? I kept asking Mackenzie and Jacinta to play a round of strip poker with me, and Papa Pryce told me to go and, "do something better with my time." Actually he told me to fuck off, but my stomach was growling, so... "Hey." Here I am.

"Tall-dark-and-handsome is my middle name. Call me Kyler."

The girl in front of me has some chaotic energy. Just looking at her, I can tell she's the type of person who could get me into a bad situation — glitter all over my body and blood on my hands. In another life, we'd commit a felony together. I'm already obsessed. "Yeah, I've got some decent shit in my closet. You're welcome to check it out." Maybe I'll steal a crop top from hers, I don't know.

The night is young, and I'm starving.

"But you know who has me beat? The hottest victor couple of our generation, that's who." I smirk at her, daring to ignite something that I know might get us both burnt. "Mackenzie Pryce and Jacinta Salazar. Just two doors down from me."

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l o r r a i n e

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"Kyler," I think about it for a second. There was a Kyle who cheated on me once, but I'm not blaming Kyler for it- yet. "Sweet." 

Boom, new friend! That's one more off that list of people who no longer can kill me with a clear conscious. I think that's a good way to win the game, he looks strong and he's a foot taller than me -- if we wouldn't be bumping purses, I'd probably hit him up before the grace period ends. Still, a friend's a friend and in a place like this, it makes thing feel more human. Less sterile; ew, his meat pie is looking at me. 

"... the hottest victor of our generation, that's who." 

I nod, trying to guess his type. Context clues says Shy, broody and strong, all that trauma is kind of hot- "Pryce?!" Okay, okay, hear me out. "He's hot, but he's got a dad bod, Kyler, he's not our generation." Our cut off is like, I'd say Kass? Maybe skip Ridley and pick back up with Beck and Lysander, but Mackenzie and Jacinta are a decade older than both of us. 

"But damn, I'll be that baby's nanny if it means I get in their bed," I sink onto my cheek, catching my fingers in my hair. It's easier to think about that than the rest of the week; maybe I should sleep with a victor before I head out. Lysander or Shy, maybe Beck. He seems a little preoccupied but the headlines would be nice. 

I'd be homewrecking like, three different relationships. "Wait, do you know where their room key is? Their closet could just be, y'know," my eyes are wide thinking of that treasure trove, of everything Jacinta Salazar has in her closet. "Ours instead!"