When Will My Life Begin? (open)

I’m able to salvage most of my drawings, for that I can be thankful, but I’m left with unshed tears stinging my eyes as I watch the few designs I wasn’t able to save flying away on the wind. This really isn’t my day. First I’m late, then I fall down (I realize now that I really had tripped over my hair because it’s tangled impossibly around my legs), and now I’ve lost the designs that could have stopped Lana from having an absolute hemorrhage when I walked in two hours late. There are small scrapes along my forearms, the irritated skin raw and pink, but I’m not bleeding so I shouldn’t need any cosmetic surgery to fix it. I don’t know how some of the people around here can surge all the time, I’ve only ever gone under the knife once, to get my eyes adjusted to the brightly glowing magenta color that they are now, and the ordeal traumatized me so much that I vowed to never do it again. Except maybe to get my nose fixed.

Gently prodding at the raw patches of damaged skin along my arm, I almost don’t notice the hand enter my field of vision. Slightly startled, my follow the muscular arm that is extended towards me, Tracing it up to the face of a boy who is only slightly taller than myself (which is odd because I’m one of the shortest people I know,) his dark eyes gazing at my fallen form in a way that is almost bored as he silently offers his aid. He’s dressed plainly by capitol standards, simple shirt and slacks, no visible surgical alterations, no wild hairstyles formed by his slightly unruly brown curls. Smiling in gratitude, I grasp his hand and pull myself to my feet, still clutching my remaining designs protectively to my chest.

”Thanks!” I say brightly, reaching down and disentangling my legs from the curly golden net of my hair. ”I swear, I’m going to cut it all off one day, no matter what Mom says. It’s a pain!”

My legs free, I look around for any remaining drawings that might be floating around, disappointingly not finding anything among the feet of the other flamboyantly-dressed passerby that crowd the street. I brush the dust off of the gauzy baby-pink cotton dress that thankfully wasn’t damaged by my fall, looking back up at the boy inquisitively. ”Um, have you seen any drawings flying around? Fashion designs, like this?”

I pull a random drawing from my stack of designs, a fitted ball gown designed to look like a large tidal wave about to hit the shore, the fabric fading from oceanic blue to foamy white near the hem. It’s one of the drawings I’m extremely happy didn’t fly away, my wonderful (and highly improbable) dreams of seeing it adorn the body of next year’s female tribute from Four refusing to leave me. It’s not that I’m a Games fanatic; I actually think the whole thing is really gross. But Mom says to never say that in public because it could make her lose her job as the stylist for District Two and that I should be seen and not heard. Yeah, watching a bunch of kids run around and kill each other makes me want to hurl, but the fashion… exquisite. That’s why I’m in this apprenticeship with District Four’s stylist, why I sketched out this wonderful dress in the middle of the night. I want to make people look pretty. I’m not sure that I want to be responsible for dressing Tributes, though. I went with Lana to get the measurements for the girl from Four this year (Winona? I think her name’s Winona). I only met her once, but it still makes me sad when I turn on the TV and watching her trapped in the arena. So maybe I don’t want to be a famous Games stylist, but making clothes for people in the Capitol is a job I can really see myself being good at.

Jolting out of my thoughts, I look back at the boy who helped me up, wondering why he isn’t answering me. Then the realization clicks in my mind, and I want to bury my face in my hands from embarrassment at my own stupidity. Then plain clothes, the natural, no-surge look he has about him, the lack of speech – the boy’s an Avox, and I’ve been standing here babbling like he’s one of my old school friends. A slight crimson blush paints my face, and I cast my eyes down to the immaculately-layed cobblestones. Another thing I’ve been told to never say in public, I’ve always felt kind of sorry for Avoxes. I mean, I know they’re all traitors and have done something horrible against the Capitol, but I just can’t shake the thought that no one deserves to be silenced for life, no matter what they’ve done.

”I’m sorry,” I say, trying to simultaneously apologize for my insensitivity to his condition and the fact that helping me has most likely made him deter from whatever errand he was running before he saw me fall over. ”I, uh… I didn’t mean to fall.”

For someone who talks all the time, I’m surprisingly un-gifted in the art of conversation. I didn’t mean to fall? What’s that supposed to mean. Blushing more, I tuck a stray curl into place behind my ear. ”I mean… I’m sorry I distracted you. If you get home late or get in trouble or something, give this to your…” Master I think, but the word doesn’t leave my mouth because it just feels wrong. ”Give this to your, um, boss.”

I pull a pen out of my purse, tearing the corner off of one of my less-than satisfactory designs and neatly writing “Zell Thornton” across the paper, followed by my address and phone mumber. Tucking the writing utensil back in my bag, I hand the scrap of paper over to the dark-haired boy. ”There. If they want an explanation, they can call me and I’ll tell them that you were late because you helped me. By the way, thanks. For, um, helping me, I mean.”

((ooc- I think I'll try 3rd past with Zell, too. We'll see how it goes. ))

Zell was slightly taken aback when her new acquaintance pull a pen and paper scrap of his own from the pocket of his slacks, glancing around before writing something down and handing the paper her. She grasped the scrap in her small hands, magenta eyes raking quickly over the words.

I'm not late. I'm going to buy fabric. My name is Luca Stentori.

Luca. It was a nice enough name, the blonde thought to herself, short and to-the-point but somehow flowing and musical at the same time. Simple at first, but concealing deep intricacies that presented themselves when explored further. Zell tended to dwell a lot on peoples' names, finding some way to connect them with their unique personalities. Her own given name was ugly and choppy in her opinion. Rapunzel, an old German word for some kind of plant called rampion, although according to her mother it was the name of some beautiful princess with long golden hair. Well, princess or not, it was still an ugly name, too long and ostentatious for such a small person, too grating for her bubby nature. The nickname Zell worked much better, short and bright and fun like the girl who bore it.

"Hey, I - " Zell glanced up from the paper for a moment, realizing that Luca was now leisurely making his way back down the sidewalk. Clutching her remaining drawings protectively with one hand and hiking her hair up as not to trip over it with the other, the petite girl quickly followed the dark-haired Avox, her short legs slightly detrimental but allowing her to catch up nonetheless. "Hey, Luca, wait up!"

She was panting slightly by the time she reached him, her body not used to physical exertion. Grinning widely through her heavy breaths, she held up the scrap of paper to reference his previous statement. "I work in the fabric shop! I'm an apprentice with the stylist who runs the place. I'm sorta late for my shift, but once I go check in with Lana I'll get you whatever you need on the house, okay? As a thank you."

Still smiling at the slightly taller boy while trying to balance her depleted stack of drawings, she nudged the glass door of the shop open with a hip, wide purplish eyes darting around nervously. No one in sight, other than a few customers combing speculatively over design books and bolts of fabric. Zell relaxed, nearly giggling in relief. Maybe Lana wasn't in today. Walking briskly over to the front counter, she gently laid down her designs and turned back to give Luca a reassuring grin.

"Rapunzel!"

She winced at both the hideous sound of her full name and irritation with which it was spoken, rooted to the spot as her expression jumped back to the on-edge state it had been in a few seconds ago. Chuckling nervously, Zell turned slowly around to face the source of the sound. "Hey, Lana. I can totally explain."

"I bet you can." Lana Stilgenbauer was pure Capitolite with her aqua beehive, surgically enhanced cheekbones and one-too many liposuctions, towering imposingly over her diminutive apprentice. The District Four stylist pursed her lips, dyed oceanic blue to match her hair that made her look slightly cyanotic, blinking silvery eyes in disbelief as long-nailed fingers fussed arbitrarily with her hair. "You know you're two hours late, right? We've been swamped all morning."

"I know, I'm sorry," Zell replied softly, bright eyes fixed intently on the floor. "I had some trouble getting here from the Backstreets, not to mention that my alarm didn't go off today and I had a wardrobe malfunction and - "

"Save it." Lana snapped, fixing the smaller girl with an icy glare. "I gave you this job as a favor to your mother, so she wouldn't have to worry about you being able to pay your rent or eat after you moved out. But I can't have employees that are going to be two hours late to their shifts. Don't let it happen again."

The blonde nodded, shuffling submissively behind the counter and meekly pushing the stack of papers toward the older stylist. "I won't be late again, I promise. Here are those designs you asked for."

She glanced over at Luca as her boss shuffled leisurely through the papers, trying to communicate an unspoken Sorry about all of this with her eyes. Lana's face shifted from irritation to mild satisfaction as she finished going through the stack, and the taller woman bestowed upon her apprentice a rare blue-lipped smile. "These are really nice, kid. Good work."

After patting Zell patronizingly on the head, Lana bustled off to a different part of the store. The petite girl immediately walked back out from around the counter, half-smiling wryly at Luca as she pulled the lanyard containing the nametag she was forced to wear at work over her tousled blonde head. "She's actually all right. It's just tough love with her, she wants me to be a good designer, and good designers are never late."

Grabbing the dark-eyed boy gently by the arm, she led him to the section of the store containing aisles upon aisles of fabric, shelves stacked floor to ceiling with silks, satins, brocades, chiffons, and other textiles that Zell couldn't even begin to name. Customers usually visited this section first before going over to the pattern section to pick any garments they might want made out of the fabric, thick leather volumes full of Lana's gorgeous designs, and, to Zell's immense pride, a few of her own. However, on occasion some people came into the shop to buy fabric by itself, since Lana's place had the biggest selection in the Capitol, but then they would take it to another stylist to get the actual clothing made, a practice that made the aqua-haired stylist fume even as she counted the money from these purchases. Apparently, that was the agenda that Luca's master or mistress had sent him here to fulfill, buying one of Lana's splendid fabrics before hauling it off to be molded into a dress or suit by some other stylist. Zell grinned amusedly at the thought of what Lana would do if she knew. The blonde decided it was a good thing that she would be the one taking care of the Avox boy's purchase.

"So... What'll it be?"

Zell followed the line of Luca's gesturing hand to a bolt of fabric high up on the shelf next to her, a thick roll of Crepe de Chine silk dyed an oddly colored purple, somewhere between the bright magenta of her own eyes and a more bluish, royal violet. Personally, the young stylist thought it was a hideous color, but tried to push the thought from her mind. Rule One: The Customer is always right. She had to jump a few times before she could grab onto the roll of fabric, eventually pulling it and a few of its neighbors crashing down to the tiled floor and incurring several looks from surrounding customers. Blushing and cursing herself internally for being so short, the blonde propped the other bolts of fabric up against the shelf and picked up the odious purple silk, dragging the bolt that was almost as big as she was back to the counter to cut it. Once she had her scissors out, Zell began to measure out the fabric with quick, practiced movements, keeping a running babble going while glancing up occasionally at the dark-haired Avox boy.

"I'm guessing you only need one cut, right?" she asked, a "cut" being Capitol style slang for seven yards of fabric, the typical amount needed to make a single dress or suit. Assuming that this was the case, she adjusted the yardage measure on the wooden surface of the counter accordingly, stretching the silk between her fingers repeatedly as she counted out lengths of fabric. Two, three... Looking up, she saw Luca gazing forlornly into his bag, and then back to her, the message clear on his face. Not enough. Grinning good naturedly at him, the petite girl flicked a hand through the air in dismissal. "I told you, this one's on me. You totally deserve it for helping me back there. Plus, I don't want you getting in trouble."

She went back to her measuring, humming serenely as the smooth silk flowed through her pale fingers. It really was lovely fabric, the finest Crepe de Chine that District Eight had to offer. It was a crying shame in Zell's opinion that such a gorgeous textile had been dyed such a hideous color. For one of the few times in her short career, the young designer questioned Lana's motives in buying a product. Honestly, who would wear this? Four, five...

"So, did you hear about the lights tonight?" Zell asked suddenly, looking up at Luca with excitement glinting in the pinkish depths of her eyes. The floating lights were a yearly occurrence, a Capitol-wide festival that took place to celebrate the beginning of spring. Citizens went out and bought small electric lanterns with hover-lifters attached to them, releasing them into the night sky simultaneously. Oftentimes those who owned or could rent boats down at the marina in the huge man-made lake a mile or so from the City Circle would drive out into the open water, the best seat in the house, viewing the wave of glowing light gradually surrounding the city like a brilliant halo. Zell had only ever watched the spectacle from the distant vantage point of her bedroom window in her parents' house, begging every year to be allowed to go with her friends but always receiving a firm denial. Six...

"I've never been, but I can go this year because I'm eighteen now and I have my own place and that means that I do what I want no matter what Mom says," she stated matter-of factly, pulling out the last yard of fabric and slotting her scissors into the straight groove on the counter, the blades biting into the fabric with a pleasant shushing noise. "I'm kind of scared to go on my own, though. All those people. Mom says that I'm not observant and I'll get kidnapped, but she's totally paranoid. But still, you never know. I'm kind of sheltered, I guess."

The scissors severed the length of fabric with a final snip, and Zell began folding the fabric with the same practiced motions as she continued talking aimlessly to Luca. "I don't know, I probably won't go. I'll just watch from my apartment. My friends all have dates, you know, I don't want to be a third wheel. Sure, I'm clear out in the Backstreets, but the view might be all right."

Wrapping the folded silk in pink tissue paper and securing the package with a shiny gold foil sticker, Zell stood on her tiptoes in order to reach over the counter and hand the boy his fabric. Somewhere in the exchange her hand brushed his, and for some reason unbeknown to the tiny blonde, a crimson blush settled across her cheekbones as her eyes darted back down to the floor. She glanced up at him after a moment, magenta eyes meeting dark ones as she gave him a parting grin. "It was nice to meet you, Luca. Thanks again for helping me. Maybe I'll see you again sometime if you're ever out on another fabric run..."

"Rapunzel! Get back here to the silks and clean up this mess!"

The irritated screech from the depths of the store indicated that Lana had stumbled upon the bolts of fabric that Zell had neglected to re-shelve. The long-haired girl gave a little jump, rushing out from behind the counter and turning to give the taller boy a final wave. "Bye!"

Luca Stentori, she thought to herself as she struggled to place the overturned rolls of fabric back on their high shelf, musing directed at the folded piece of paper that she suddenly realized was still clutched in her hand. It's a nice name.

It took Zell a solid fifteen minutes to get the scattered fabrics folded back into some semblance of order, pull a stepstool into the aisle, and gently slot the bolts of silk back into their respective places. After her task was accomplished, she brushed her tousled hair back from her face and gave a heavy huff of air, trudging back to her designated spot behind the counter. Upon her arrival, a blonde eyebrow raised in curiosity as her pale fingers closed around the folded bit of paper that had been left on the wooden surface. Zell unfolded the little scrap, a squeak of surprise passing her lips when a few folded bills tumbled out onto the countertop. Picking up the money with a confused expression working its way across her face, the long-haired girl glanced down at the neat, elegant letters that worked their way across the paper scrap in an inky path.

Z,
meet me at the dock at 7.
-L.S.

Magenta eyes widened in surprise, raking again and again over the note’s content just to be sure she’d read it correctly. Zell smiled, elation flooding her features as she folded the paper and tucked it gently into her purse before launching herself from behind the counter. Her legs carried her through the staff only door and down the hallway to Lana’s office, where she knocked frantically and hopped with excitement from one foot to the other until the older stylist’s aqua-colored head poked out around the door. ”What?”

”CanIpleaseborrowadressfromthecloset?!” Zell’s request was a high-pitched mash up of blurred words, tiny hands clasped imploringly in a gesture of supplication to her boss as innocent pinkish eyes glimmered up at the taller woman from a foot below. Lana seemed to be either overwhelmed or unaffected, silvery orbs beaming down on her apprentice as she cocked a single aqua eyebrow.

”It’smyfirsttimegoingtothelightspleasepleaseplease!” The petite blonde wailed, giving a little bounce on each “please.” The closet full of Lana’s premade dresses was tucked away in the back of the store, the garments already constructed for those who didn’t want to pay for custom work. Even though these clothes were generally cheaper they were still fabulous, the racks full of sparkly party dresses that Zell had seen her friends wear as the went downtown for the festival each year. There had to be a perfect one in there somewhere, she knew it. ”I’ll never be late again, I promise!”

Lana sighed, bringing a blue-nailed hand up to rub circles across an overly face lifted temple. Blinking quietly for a few seconds, she looked to be weighing her options before she made a decision, sighing heavily. ”Fine. I was going to close up early for the festival anyway. Just be careful with whatever you pick and bring it back in decent condition, or it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

Zell cut the aqua-haired woman off by throwing petite arms around her alarmingly thin waist, hugging her tightly and squealing for joy before sprinting back down the hallway as fast as her short legs would carry her. ”Thank you so much, Lana!”

She rocketed back into the main lobby of the shop in a golden blur, quickly running up to the door and flipping over the sign so it now read “Closed” to the passerby outside before weaving her way beck through the aisles towards the large archway that led to the premade clothing section. Zell shuffled quickly back to the rack full of petite-sized party frocks, reverently smoothing the gorgeous fabrics between her palms. With all the jewel toned jacquards and neon satins in every shape and size, how could she choose just one? But then there it was, shining like a beacon amidst the other garments. The dress was relatively simple compared to the gaudiness of the others, a light pastel pink chiffon that was layered multiple times so it would have a floaty appearance, the skirt falling to just below the knees. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and little pink beads stitched intricately all over the bodice, giving the dress a soft shimmer under the shop’s fluorescent lighting. Inhaling an awed breath, Zell silently removed it from the hanger, already liking the way the layers of sheer silk felt against her skin. IT was perfect.

She made a quick run to the other side of the huge room to grab a pair of matching pink shoes and a wrap in case the weather turned cold, gently setting all of the items in one of the store’s plastic bag and carrying it out onto the street with the same care one would take with a baby. The petite girl walked carefully all the way back along the fifteen-minute walk to her apartment, hopping on the first available elevator and riding up to the fifteenth floor. Zell’s door creaked a bit as she opened it, stepping into an apartment that was somewhat shabby by Capitol standards but still clean and homey. Kicking off her sandals and padding up the small hallway to her room, she chanced a glance at the clock on the wall. Four-thirty. She had plenty of time.

Six forty-five found Zell frantically jamming her tiny feet into the pink kitten heels, flying into her bathroom for a last minute makeup check. She hadn’t meant to take this long, but this was her first time at the lights and she had just wanted everything to be perfect. It turned out that flat ironing four and a half feet of hair took a few hours, not to mention the time it had taken to attain the soft pink glow of expertly applied makeup that emanated from her pale visage. Deciding against dragging the sheer chiffon wrap along with her, Zell nabbed her purse from her dresser and raced out the door, speeding downwards through the apartment building to join the mass of migrating people on the street outside. It was only a short walk to the lake, and when she first caught sight of all the brightly-illuminated boats bobbing in the water she couldn’t hold back a gasp. This was it, the event she’d been dreaming about for years. Resisting the temptation to play with her newly-straightened hair and mess it up, she took a few tentative steps onto the dock’s wooden surface, purple-pink eyes wide as saucers and glimmering with reflected party lights as she drank in the scene around her. There was only one missing piece left in the puzzle.

Leaning up against a wooden post and surveying the crowd for a familiar head of dark curls, Zell waited.

All those days watching from the windows,
All those years outside looking in…

Zell had never been in a boat before. Actually, she hadn’t done much of anything before, her parents smothering overprotection keeping her cloistered behind the safety of closed doors. Magenta orbs wide and uneasy, she tried her best to get situated in the rocking dinghy, nervous little squeaks leaving her mouth as pink-painted nails dug frantically into the wood of her seat. The long-haired girl’s eyes widened even more when the little vessel glided over the mirrored surface of the water, the soft splashing sound of the oars against the surface of the lake forming a soothing rhythm. Feeling adventurous, she let an arm dangle over the side, languid pale fingers brushing through the glassy water. It was colder than she expected, though, so Zell quickly jerked away and clutched her hands nervously in her lap.

”You know, I’ve missed out on so much,” she mused quietly, glancing in Luca’s direction. ”My parents… they mean well, but I’ve just been sheltered my entire life. I really have no idea what the real world is like. I hate it.”

All that time never even knowing
Just how blind I’ve been.

Her gaze flicked speculatively up to the Capitol skyline, bright lights glowing around the city in a neon halo but slowly shutting down one by one by one to allow the lanterns to be visible. ”I’m eighteen years old, and I’ve never even been on a date.”

A soft gasp passed Zell’s lips, a hand coming up lightly to cover her mouth. Why had she said that? Why was she sitting here spouting off the story of her life to some boy who probably could care less? Why was she even here? The diminutive blonde dropped her eyes away from her companion, staring at her wavering reflection in the water off the side of the small boat. Fingers dragged over the shining surface again, scattering her watery mirror image into a thousand ripples. Zell was good with people but bad with talking in the way that she often said too much. For all she knew, Luca was only here with her as payback for letting him take the fabric from earlier at a reduced cost. But for all she knew, maybe he was as curious about her as she was about him.

Now I’m here, blinking in the starlight.
Now I’m here, suddenly I see

”I’ve never been allowed to go out or be with my friends or have an adventure,” she smiled at him sadly, pinkish eyes tracing over the strong contours of his face. To Zell, Luca Stentori looked like someone who knew quite a bit about adventures with his tousled hair and glinting eyes, and that fact made him interesting and alluring and…

What was she thinking? Did that really just run through her mind, wanting to get to know some Avox boy she’d run into on the street, get close to him, be his friend, maybe even… Blinking confusedly, Zell shook herself mentally, launching back into the comfortable babble. She was good at talking without really saying anything, she always had been. Rambling was a security blanket for the petite girl, comforting white noise like a mother’s heartbeat or the patter of rain on the rooftop that served to calm her in situations like these. ”I mean, I’m good at a few things. I draw, I paint, I play piano, I make pottery. But more than anything I just want…”

Standing here, it’s crystal clear
I’m where I’m meant to be.

She sputtered into silence, unsure of her words. What did she want? She had gotten out from under her parents’ watchful eye, had made it on her own in her own apartment with her own job, but Zell had continually found herself wanting something more than all of that, something she could never quite explain. She thirsted for some wonderful mix of spontaneity and beauty and freedom and…

A sigh arose from all around, and the last of the city’s lights flickered out. An ethereal glow appeared against the large cavity of the City Circle, the first lantern rising slowly from the balcony of the President’s mansion and over the skyline, bathing all around it in a dim golden aura. Inhaling an awed breath, Zell lunged forward to get a better view, not caring that it made the boat rock violently. Clinging excitedly to the side, a wide grin worked its way across her face as a second lantern entered her vision, then a third, then so many that she quickly lost count, the light casting itself upon the lake, casting both the water and her pale skin in a liquid gold hue. ”This. More than anything, I just want this.”

And at last I see the light,
And it’s like a fog has lifted.

The sky came alive with the warm glow, lanterns rising in myriads with beating hearts of fire all around her; golden aura lighting up the night in a way that she could have never imagined would be so beautiful. Watching from her apartment could never compare to this, being here in the midst of it all, reaching out to faintly brush lithe palms against the surface of the lanterns that alighted on the water, still burning brightly as they floated on the lake. Zell felt like a little kid again, full of giddy joy as she craned her neck back up to the sky, now filled with unbelievable numbers of floating lights.

”This is… This is completely unreal.”

And at last I see the light,
And it’s like the sky is new.

The glow from the lanterns made the pink glitter that Zell had dusted across her shoulders and down her arms shimmer radiantly, turning the small girl into a creature of the light in her own right. Glimmering in the aura of the surrounding light, she beamed at the boy sitting across from her. ”I never would have thought it’d be this beautiful.”

The blonde shifted her position, settling next to Luca on the wooden plank, the heat that radiated from him doing a little bit to take away the evening’s chill (perhaps she should have brought her wrap after all). She painstakingly turned her attention from the sky’s golden beauty to study the dark-haired boy. The light from the lanterns threw his features into sharp relief, clever dark eyes that told a story she wanted desperately to hear although she couldn’t tell why, a more rugged, earthier air about him than the Capitol boys she’d seen around who often put more work into their appearances than she did with her own. He was interesting, Zell decided. And adventure in and of himself. And wasn’t adventure what she’d been looking for her whole life?

And it’s warm and real and bright,
And the world has somehow shifted…

Throwing allof society’s stigmas by the wayside (it was dark and she didn’t care what people thought anyway), Zell tentatively leaned over and wrapped her arms briefly around his broad shoulders, squeezing quickly before letting go. ”Thank you so much, for all of this. I don’t think you understand how much being here means to me.”

She tried her hardest to fight the crimson stain that spread over her countenance, resisting the urge to look at her feet and meeting his eyes instead. Zell had never been good with social things, too forward and trusting for most peoples’ tastes (like hugging someone she’d met only a few hours ago. That was generally taboo). Still, something told her that this was no normal social interaction. She tried to speak, but her words were jumbled and clumsy, hanging heavy in the gold-tinged air.

”You know, Luca, I’m glad I met you today. You’re different... Not in a bad way though. I like… um… different things…people, I mean. Well, you know what I mean.”

All at once, everything is different,
Now that I see you.

Even as the first lanterns lost the charge in their hover-lifters and began to settle like little floating candles on the water of the lake, still more filled the sky. Distantly, Zell wondered how long it had taken District Three to make all of them; there had to be thousands, millions of the plastic vessels illuminating the night air. Not for the first time, the blonde imagined what her life might have been like if she had been born in the Districts instead of in the carefully-padded Capitol bubble in which her parents had raised her. Would she be rich? Most likely not, but even now she was poor by Capitol standards with her lack of surgical modification and less-than-illustrious apartment in the Backstreets. Would she be able to go out and have adventures? Certainly.

Speaking of the Districts... Zell glanced over in Luca's direction, watching as the dark-haired boy began to scratch out something onto a piece of paper. She wondered what place he had called home before he was forced to live in the Capitol as someone's servant. Was it rude to ask? She wasn't sure, so she pursed her pink-painted lips and swallowed the question. She'd made things awkward enough tonight. A golden glow emerged in the corner of Zell's eye, causing her head to turn and magenta eyes to glance around for its source. A lantern descended gently from the sky, the bight fire in its core slowly diminishing to faintly glowing embers. The long-haired girl extended a lithe arm upwards, feeling the warmth of the fading lantern alight on agile fingertips. Pulling the plastic balloon down into her grasp, she studied it carefully, pale digits delicately tracing its contours as the light within continued to die away.

"You know, it's sad but pretty at the same time," she mused softly, watching the lantern's light fade to a dim pulse. "I don't think you can really appreciate the beauty in things until they're gone. It's like if I sew a really nice dress; I won't appreciate how pretty it is until I've sold it. Or if I make a really nice piece of pottery, I won't realize just how intricate the work was until it cracks in the kiln and becomes useless. Or the lights. If we saw them every day, they wouldn't be nearly as beautiful. They'd just... they'd jut be, you know?"

Zell's rambling was more complex than usual, her words more thought-out and meaningful than her usual unceasing babble. She wasn't sure what had prompted the statement, but as the lantern in her hands sputtered and finally died, she realized that it was probably her subconscious justifying her reason for being here. She'd never really appreciate how awe-inspiring the lights were until she watched one snuff itself out, never again to light up the darkness. Tucking the extinguished light next to her feet in the floor of the boat, she looked back up at Luca with a somewhat bashful grin. "I know it sounds stupid, but I've always liked broken things better. They're more beautiful because they tell a story. Like this bracelet, I got it from Lana for free because the jewel in it is broken, but I think it's prettier this way because it catches the light differently and makes all sorts of cool patterns and..."

She saw the piece of paper extending from his hand and cut herself off, leaning forward and squinting her eyes to read the neatly-printed letters in the wavering golden glow. I'm glad I met you too. You're different, too. Should we go back now, Zell?

"Oh! Oh, yeah, sure! It's getting cold out here, anyway," Zell said hurriedly, blonde head nodding in assent. As the little rowboat glided smoothly back towards the docks, she reached down next to her and ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the lantern again, the plastic still holding a bit of the extinguished light's warmth. She'd keep the dead lantern as a souvenir, she decided, put it in her room or something.

She didn't talk for the rest of the trip back to shore, the silence between Luca and herself more comfortable than awkward. Pinkish-purple eyes glanced longingly back at the shrinking golden corona that surrounded the skyline, hands traveling up absently to braid a small strand of golden hair. Zell jumped in surprise when she felt the boat make contact against the dock, and she quickly scrambled to her feet, collecting the lantern from the floor and hopping out onto the dock's surface. The sensation of being on land again actually felt rather odd, the solid planks seeming to sway fluidly beneath her feet.

"Ah, that's a shame, I had money on her," said a nearby woman, nodding her lime-green beehive towards the giant screen positioned on the side of a building near the dock as she continued to babble to her lavender-haired friend. Zell quirked an eyebrow and glanced up at the screen to see an instant replay from a Games update, the time stamp on the video from less than an hour before. The tall Asian boy from five swiftly brought his axe down upon a pretty blonde girl, assisted in snuffing out her life by that poor girl from Twelve who had lost her legs a few days back.

"Oh no!" Zell gasped in horror, a pale hand jumping up to cover her mouth as her eyes darted nervously around. Her mother had never allowed her to talk about the Games in public, fearing that her daughter's unnatural sympathy for the tributes might cost her career as the stylist for District Two. Lowering her voice to a whisper as crystalline tears welled up in her eyes, Zell couldn't turn her glance away from the looped replay of the girl's light going out over and over and over again. "That girl from Four... Winona... I knew her. Well, I met her, the day Lana and I went to get her measurements."

She swayed on her feet a little both from shock and still getting used to being on solid ground, a single tear spilling over and tracing a hot, salty line down her cheek. "She was so pretty... such a sweet girl, so nice... I wanted her to win."

Suddenly remembering where she was, Zell snapped to a tense attention, hurriedly wiping away the moisture that sat on her skin. "Sorry, I'm being stupid. Did you want to do something else, Luca? If not I was just planning on going home and working on some designs..."

Her voice trailed off, still distant and absent of its usual chipper soprano edge. No matter how hard Zell tried to focus on other things, all she could think of was her brief encounter with the blonde girl from Four, her pretty smile, her laugh, how sweet she had been to her and Lana throughout the whole process of getting her measure, the stories they had heard about her parents and her home. Had Winona been a Capitolite, Zell could imagine the two of them being friends. And now she was dead, as dead as the burned-out lantern that the long-haired girl held in her hands.

Beauty was tragic, she decided. You never know it's there until it's gone.