A Simple Twist of Fate [Josh]

It was only natural for a sneer to come across my face at seeing Jem Morgan in my presence, but I was quick enough to change this to a smirk that I figured no one would have noticed. He was so friendly, now, wasn’t he? Wrinkling his nose as if there was something wrong running into one of the best looking careers in the district. I stifled a laugh as I put my hands on my hips. Now what fresh h—l could I unleash on little Jem Morgan? Ah yes, perhaps the disgusting route first? I rolled my neck a bit and lifted one of my arms before giving it a good wiff. I left it up in the air and took a step towards the one and only Jem Morgan.

“Oh man, do I just reek,” I say as I waft the space in front of my pit. I had a feeling that he would find something like this just revolting, and it egged me on further. I swung my arms in front of me and crossed them. “You know wrestling and training really works up a good sweat. Though I bet someone like you wouldn’t worry your dainty little hands about such things, eh, Mr. Morgan? Oh no worries, not all of us would want to win the games by having mummy and daddy having to buy them for us. I mean, some of us actually work on being careers…”

With this I wave at the other gym goes and sidestep Jem. “Oh hello, yoohoo, have you seen that a Morgan is here? Yes, oh my, the Jem Morgan!” I whip around to face Jem now, my face beaming as I put both hands on it. “Oh, I wouldn’t have ever imagined that someone like you would set foot in my gym. To think, all the damage that this earthquake is doing and we get blessed in this terrible time of tragedy by having a Morgan come here. Well, I never. Oh, Jem, you must be enjoying yourself here, certainly better than any dank hole you probably spend your time festering in…”

I snickered as I unleashed this barrage of insults. I wasn’t sure if it were from the extended session I’d had before or just that my adrenaline had been kick started by Jem. I was itching to start something with Mr.-I’m-holier-than-thou. I had no doubt he was fretting about having to use my gym, which to be perfectly fair, had been forced to accommodate all sorts of types. Even (and shudder to think it) some members of the-upper-middle-class. Still, that didn’t give him any sort of reason to be disgusted with the fact that I was there. I would have thought that someone like him would have the decency to not acknowledge my existence at all. Wasn’t that what polite society types did all the time? They just pretended to have never known you if you had insulted them. Not like that was a frequent occurrence with me, or anything.

“But I suppose I should let you quench your thirst and get back to work on whatever it was that you were doing.” I gave a slight bow and turned a bit from him. It made me grin—heck, it even oddly excited me—that I could get underneath this social climber’s skin. Usually boys and girls like him were so dull, they wouldn’t even give me a chance to hurl off any insults before leaving my presence. It would be terribly upsetting I completely ruined this opportunity. I would have to remind myself to let him win a few rounds every now and again.

I suppose I could have been a little bit easier on Jem, but then what would the fun have been in that? I wondered just how he would stack up after our last altercation, and I listened to hear a regurgitation of our last chance meeting. Well of course my parents bought this for me, considering that I didn’t have much of a choice when I was seven years old. But instead of pressing this point, I waved it off and rolled my eyes. Better to let him get in a passing shot and think that I took some offense to it than to not let him have any fun at all. The way to winning, at least in hand to hand, was to force your opponent into a terrible position and then make him see his error. And that was what I intended to do with little Jem.

His line about brute force made me smirk. Right, because you would ever damage your precious little nails in combat. “I think you and I know better than anyone that we’re privileged, yes… but some of us have obviously taken the time to building up who we are in this gym, and not just faking it with weapons. I mean, any idiot can stab someone in the back with a knife, can’t they?” I leered at Jem as I waved towards the fencing area. It’s not that I abhorred weapons, it was just that I thought by perfecting my own body and strength I was better prepared for any challenge. “How many times do we see some pathetic tribute from a lower district knock off one of our careers by dumb luck, just because they had the right weapon with them at the right time?”

His comment about my nose instinctively made me move my hand up to touch it, but I jolted it back down to my side. I was handsome—maybe the best looking guy in this gym—and who the h—l cared what he thought of my face? When he tapped my cheek I simply smiled, wanting to grab his wrist and twist it backwards to hear him scream. No one was allowed to touch me like that unless that wanted a fight. And as much as I liked this gym, I wasn’t above knocking his lights out and getting myself thrown out. But instead I kept my cool, and decided two could play at his sorry little excuse for a game.

“Well little Jemmifer,” I say, feminizing his name to belittle him, “I don’t think you would have what it takes against me anyway. You’ve probably been too busy sipping champagne and finding the next rung on the ladder to put in the hard work to be a real career. Mummy probably took your name out of the reaping, right? Isn’t that how well connected you are? Oh I’m only teasing… someone like you would never be smart enough to ask for something like that. I mean it’s not like you’re a maniacal genius… more of just a vicious, dumb, social climber type.”

With this I pat his cheek in the same disrespectful way before folding my arms across my chest. “Now if you’ll excuse me Jemma, I’m going to get back to what real careers do and train my body and mind… not just use big toys to pretend.” I give him a slight nod and begin to turn away from him. I don’t know if I’ve done enough to get his blood pressure up, but it’s felt good nonetheless. I’m not quite sure why it’s excited me so to terrorize this idiotic boy more than anyone else I’ve chewed out before, but perhaps it was because it felt so righteous. There was something about cutting down someone to size with such a big ego that gave me awakened my own big ego a better sense of myself.

I knew that I was pushing him close to his breaking point, but even with all the training I’d been doing that morning, the last thing I expected was a kick to the face. His strike sent me backward with a grunt, and then forward as he slammed into my back. I was dizzied for a moment, not believing that the normally so composed Jem had actually decided to hit me. That little no-good-f—king-prick had actually decided that it was a good idea to hit me. He hit me! What in the world was this idiot thinking? Did he really think I was going to let him get away with touching me?

It was one thing for him to think that he could go toe to toe with me in terms of insults, but it was quite another to challenge me as a physical aggressor. I had spent nearly all of my time on hand to hand combat. This was my forte. If he intended to make a fool of me, he was either very smart (and would have to be very lucky) by picking something that would deflate my ego, or incredibly stupid. I was going to show him just what I did to all the boys that dared to try and take advantage of me. They’d have to mop the floor after I finished with him. As I sat there on the ground, giving him his moment, I waited before snapping onto my hands into a push-up style pose and kicking my feet hard at his stomach.

I didn’t waste time to see if I’d done much damage. Instead, I swirled around, keeping low to the ground, and rushed at his awaiting frame. Muscle met muscle and with all my strength I brought the boy’s body down to the ground. I sneered as I felt him struggle and brought my fists hard into his chest, and then into his face. I grabbed down at his struggling arms and let out a grunt. “You… ought… to… play… nice…” I say emphasizing each word, in a state of glee getting to pound the little freak for his attack on me. I’m excited to see him struggle and sweat underneath of me. I smile as I move to flip him over, and to pull his arms up behind his back.

“So… you think I’m an idiot for… studying hand… to hand?!” I grunt as I pull as hard as I can, wanting to hear him scream. I want to make him suffer. I’m lost in this thrill—it was something that was disturbing but altogether wonderful—that I can get a boy to call out in pain. I’ve been trained my whole life to beat the living tar out of someone, but I’ve rarely been given the opportunity to actually exercise my prowess. I snarl again as I feel struggle and resistance from below. Still, it was nice to have an opponent that wasn’t entirely helpless. Perhaps I might even let him get in a few hits so he wasn’t completely humiliated. Before I knocked his lights out, of course.

“You little… b——d!”

There was more to this boy than met the eye. That much was certain. While he was ignorant and more than a little bit vain, I could not fault him for his technique or skill. I had been expecting such resistance, and was even thrilled that he was one of the more challenging opponents that I had faced recently. But this was all games to me. I thrived in this mixture of pain and senseless violence. My anger grew along with my pride, and even with the guttural noise I made as he pressed his fingers into my pressure points, I thrashed about with even more resistance.

Well, wasn’t it just wonderful that this little boy could defend himself? But that isn’t going to stop me from cracking this little Jem-stone into a million little pieces. No, as my face grew red and my neck throbbed, I grit my teeth and flung my own head backwards against Jem’s. He couldn’t make a fool out of me, because only I was allowed to make a fool out of me! Maybe I could break his pretty little face, too. I swung an arm around after whipping my head backward, muscling my way upwards and out of his hold, smashing a fist hard into the side of his cheek. Even with my own head throbbing, my adrenaline had kicked in and I was ready for a fight to the death—or rather, a fight until one of us was either torn away by bystanders or passed out.

I kept low to the ground, just as before, not letting him get an inch on my approach. I brought my full weight down on top of his own, and once again had him on his back. I wrapped my legs around his own and locked my arms around his neck. I pulled Jem tightly against chest and squeezed hard on the boy’s throat. I could so easily let the life slip from him if I wanted to, this useless excuse for a human being. Yet though I had him in my grip, instead I decided much more to let him struggle until he would give. Part of me was excited to have him in my hold. I so delighted in humiliating those I despised that this was fun for me.

“Care… to… illuminate…? Oh, shhh, it’s okay,” I squeeze a little tighter with my legs and let out another grunt. I’m hardly upset he continued to call me stupid, though it did prick me a little bit. I had never ascribed to the dumb jock stereotype, though it would not have been the first time that people said it suited me. I lean in to whisper into his ear, brushing past his platinum blond locks. “You know, I don’t half mind you in this position… it’s a pity you’re such an annoying little runt… but perhaps this will teach you a lesson about picking on someone your own size…”

I shift upward some, keeping him in my hold. “Now do you give, or do you want to look like a complete fool?” I say this as haughtily as I can, even with our bodies sweating and my chest pounding. It was his choice if he wanted me to drain the air out of his lungs and leave him knocked out on the ground. Sure, I’d probably get in more trouble that way, but what did I care at this point?