Kalyan Casovnik // D6 - FIN!

Hey girl I’m waiting on ya, I’m waiting on ya
Come on and let me sneak you out
And have a celebration, a celebration
The music up, the windows down

^Appearance^
I don't really understand why you need a physical description of me when I am standing right in front of you (Jeesh, blind or something? Or am I just that horrible to look at?) but okay if you really need a description I ca give you one word: Perfect. Okay, not really but I do have to stay in shape for occupational reasons. It's not like I'm strong necessarily, just very well-toned. I would place myself between a scary Career and a beefy fisherman just for reference. But yeah, my job requires that I stay in shape. Well, fitness isn't required, you just get more money if you are. (Well, there is this one exception - Fat Larry. He makes almost twice as much as me and it is honestly the most hilarious thing ever!) Anyways, I'm about 6'2", which makes many people think I'm way older than 15. (nearly 16 though.) And if you thought I was like 21 or so, don't feel bad because I take it as a compliment. I do laugh every time I realize how big I am though. Three years ago I could I was literally over a foot shorter and a toothpick that all the bigger kids could've snapped in half. I'm telling you, a lot has changed with me in the past few years - thankfully too. Had I been a late bloomer I may not have managed to snag my job.

But there is more to me than body I suppose. (Not that anyone I meet really cares to notice that shit.) My eyes are a not so special blue and my hair is not so special blonde and I cannot grow facial (YET) but that doesn't give you grounds to judge me - so I wouldn't laugh at my proposition of at least getting noticed for having that normal looking hair that falls just in the right spot or the blue eyes that turn to a glistening aqua under the club lights. I'm more than just a body, I got other features, too. I bet I sound like a little girl right now, don't I? I also have some sweet tattoos across my shoulder blades - twin dragons if you wanted to know - and I have other ones but I must've been totally wasted when they happened because they are in some really weird spots. (Sometimes my friends are just way too funny ... ) My ears are pierced too, but I usually only giant diamond (Pfft - "diamond") ones when I go to work. Otherwise they bother the hell out of me.

And clothing surely isn't my expertise, but I can manage well enough. Simple T-shirt and jeans is enough for me. Occasionally I'm forced into odd (and by odd I mean super kinky) costumes by my boss, as he insists it's by popular demand. I remember once my friends came by and paid my boss to force me into a ballerina outfit. I had as much fun as I could possibly manage with that but I still made sure to color on their faces when they were passed out in their apartments the next day. I dress up every once in awhile in the suit I stole from work one day. Usually when I go to formal parties or out for a night of poker but that's rarely. Otherwise I just stick with jeans and a tee. I do keep clean though. Honestly, I can't stand being dirty. Sure, my room is a mess, but my body smells like a field of flowers, no joke.

Oh! And I totally forgot to mention that me and my Abjayoni are like twins. Well, we used to look it when we were little at least. Mom and dad always got us confused despite the three or so years between us. We both look exactly like dad and Naveen looks exactly like mom. It's too bad we aren't all together anymore - we could've looked like the perfect family from the outside looking in. Somedays I miss it. But most days I just love the life I'm living. I've got friends and girls and my brother and drinks and that's really all I need.

Yeah, we’ll be doing what we do
Just pretending that we’re cool and we know it too
Yeah, we’ll keep doing what we do
Just pretending that we’re cool, so tonight

^Personality^
Let me start out right now by saying I hate lemons. So, when life gives me lemons I throw that shit out and tell life it better come up with some oranges before I decide to try my hand at death (who I'm sure can manage to serve some decent fruit) instead. So when life gives me a pile of lemons to deal with, I do whatever I can to get rid of them. Throw them out, sell them, trade them - but you sure as hell won't see me choking down any of those lemons because I don't take shit from anyone. Not even life. So if you wanna try and fuck with me go right on ahead. Just know that some way or another I will get what I want and you won't be able to stop me. I won't take no for an answer either. Honestly, I don't even know exactly what the word "No." even means. I always guessed it was a word that meant "Don't go and do anything fun ever in your life." but I've never taken the time to look up the definition before. And although it's not exactly what people call good parenting (or in my case, brother-ing?) I don't tell my little brother no either. Besides, he has a tough enough life as it is. When my sister left, it hit him the hardest - he pretty much idolized her and when she left he started doing some crazy shit. I'm not sure if he just wanted the attention that he had lost or if he really was that upset about her leaving, but one day I found him getting ready to jump into a noose. That's the only time I have ever truly been scared. I showed him how to play poker that day and somehow I think that helped because all he ever talks about or wants to do now is learn how to play every kind of poker there is. He insists that once he gets good enough, I will be able to quit my job - we will be that rich. And I'm sorry if I'm supposed to tell the kid no to be a good parent, but there is no way in hell I will crush a kids dreams.

And although at times my job can be a bit - unpleasant? - it does have it's benefits. For example, I get to attend parties every single night. The best ones are on the weekends when they get so out of control that I can pretty much forget about actually bartending and just take shots and play crazy drinking games with the rest of the crowd. Of course, when my wonderful, and by wonderful I mean total dick breath boss, asks me to do stripping for the night I tend not to complain - as long as I'm not doing it to please 40 year old widows. Widowers either. But more times than not I get the ("grown-up, professional, and not actually a slut" - whatever) drunk, super sexy 19 year old girls who are willing to pay extra to touch. and taste. And any 15 year old kid in his right mind would never say no to something like that. Sometimes I get shit from my friends about it and on occasion they come to laugh at me, but with all the money I'm making I don't have much room to complain. I get free drinks, get into tons of parties, get to look at pretty girls, listen to song great music, and know almost all the town gossip, all while making enough money to feed me, my brother, and a bit of my mom's alcohol (when she is 'too busy' to prostitute.) It isn't that I encourage her to drink but I do give her money when she asks. Never too much, but I figured it helps her get through her problems well enough so that I don't have to deal with her most of the time. Most times it's easy enough because she is gone and passed out in either a bar or some random guys apartment but I swear the days she comes home I could kill her for just being there. I know she knows why Naveen left, I know it. But she says she knows nothing, and just knowing that she is lying right to my face makes me want strangle her. Maybe if the dumb bitch could even come up with a real train of thought I could love her - like how she was when dad was around - but she hasn't even tried to talk to me since Naveen left. Maybe even since dad left.

But I don't mind too much. If she doesn't want to talk then fine, I can live with that. So I spend the day either going to school (which honestly is only on very rare occasions) or staying home and sleeping - preparing for work all through the night. When I'm not sleeping I'm shopping for new clothes, or food, or books, or decks of cards, or booze wherever I can find it. I practice making different kinds of drinks attempting to master the art of martini mixing and beer chugging. I even make sure to lift weights and run to and from the store just to keep myself looking older and stronger because I know that's what gets me more money. I'm determined to make sure that I am doing the best I can possibly do, even if the task can be a wee bit unsatisfying. It's not me that I'm worried about. Ever since my sister left it's only been me around to keep track of my little brother and their is no way in hell I am going to let him down. So if that means getting drunk every night (and I am so not complaining about that part) or giving some 40 year old creep a lap dance (By the way, I wanted to let you know how absolutely horrible this task is) then I guess I can live with it. And although sometimes I kind of hate my sister for leaving, I don't ever blame her. Because if I could leave, I would too. But I know I can't. I can't just run away, not with other things - other people - to worry about. My happiness isn't always the main priority. Sure sometimes I get too drunk to remember that I need to go home and tuck Jay into bed or maybe forget to tell him to go to school before I go out searching for a good book to read - but that doesn't mean he isn't my main priority because he truly is. He is the only thing that holds me back and I am thankful for that. Because without him, I'm not sure what my life amounts to.

Let’s go crazy, crazy, crazy ’til we see the sun
I know we only met but let’s pretend it’s love
And never, never, never stop for anyone
Tonight let’s get some and live while we’re young

^History^
I don't have too much of a story to tell about where I came from and who I am really. My parents got married in District 6 and had three kids - Naveen, Kalyan, (who is me, if you hadn't yet taken the time to remember it) and Abjayoni. They were happy as I grew up. We were one, big, happy family with no problems and no worries. Dad had a job that kept everyone with new clothes, and something to eat, and high spirits. Obviously, that all went away, but I was too young then to see why and how. I suppose maybe I can remember thinking that parents who yelled at each other was the normal thing, and that having empty beer bottles around the house was just how it was supposed to be, and that sisters were basically meant to take care of brothers all by themselves. Obviously now I can see all the signs that led up to dad leaving, but back then I can remember wondering if it had been my fault that he had left. Mom completely lost it after dad left. She drank all the time and started going out in swanky clothes. I can remember, because Navy never came to bed until mom came home. She would sit just inside the door and wait there, sometimes all night. I remember waking her up in the morning one day where she slept on the rug in front of the door, curled up in a ball. It was often that mom stayed out all night (uh, still kinda is but whatever) and then all day again and not show up until later that next night but it wasn't a big deal for me. Like I said before, I think mom stopped talking to me after dad left. The only one should would acknowledge after dad left was Navy, so I just let Navy take care of me and get me ready for school and read me bedtime stories. I wondered why anyone even thought they needed moms when they had sisters to watch over them.

But my life wasn't just a shitty divorce. And I really don't want you feeling sorry for me because honestly, I didn't know anything different anyways. I had friends at school, and everything I could need back at home with my brother and my sister always willing to play games (and when I say games I really mean wrestle) and I was probably one of the most popular kids growing up because of all the booze I could get for the older kids. Some might have said I hung a little too much with the wrong crowd, but I knew that was my life. Drinking, partying, loving - it was just my thing. Navy warned me not to stay out to late and come home before it got too dark in the alley ways leading to our house and I always listened. Not because I was afraid of the dark (okay, maybe I was a little afraid) but because I loved her and trusted her and knew she would always be there for me. She was the one who told me that I could be whatever I wanted to be. If I wanted to be a pirate, I could. If I wanted to make cute little rag dolls for a living, I could. If I wanted to hang around the big kids with drugs, I could. Just don't do something that could hurt anyone else. So lots of days I would go around watching the older kids get drunk and smoke some foreign plants and mostly learn all the tricks of the trade around town. Basically that's what helped me get a job after Navy left. (Yay for drugs, sex, and magic!) But, I still miss dad. And the old mom. And my sister. Sometimes I even miss getting yelled at by my parents if only because I miss any acknowledgment.

The day dad left ... Well, I guess you could say that I didn't understand. I couldn't figure out why he had to go. Why he wanted to go. Of course I understand now that it was between him and mom, but some days I find myself wondering if maybe, just maybe, I had let him down in someway to make him want to leave just a little bit more. Like maybe I had done something that was the tiniest factor to finally push him over the edge. But he always seemed so proud of me. He patted me on the head and congratulated me for good grades (Good grades = solid C-) and was always giving me treats when I did something that was hardly worthy of anything. So I can't really remember if I had ever done anything wrong. I do remember he time when Naveen jumped off the edge of our building and I had been the one to tell her to do it and cheer her on, but he had never yelled at me then. In fact, he had told me I did a good job at getting help quick enough. Or maybe when I accidentally broke that window in his office and lied about it. I had said it wasn't me and that Naveen had actually done it. After he made her clean all the glass up and stay up all night to make the rest of his office squeaky clean, I found that I couldn't sleep and I ended up telling dad the truth. Of course, Naveen hadn't cared much about the incident and insisted it had been her fault and that cleaning his office had actually been a relief. (I'm not sure why, but she was always cleaning the house or trying to get dad to praise her a bit more - little attention whore she sure was.) But I told dad anyways, figuring out for the first time that couldn't deal with guilt very well. Lying is easy - I can breeze by and make anyone believe anything I say. But not feeling horrible about lying after you've done it? Now that is a challenge.

So when people ask me if I miss my sister, I make sure I say yes. Because the truth is I really wish she hadn't run away. I know I had taken her for granted, just like I had taken dad for granted, and after she was gone is when my life changed completely. I remember that morning I woke up and found that she wasn't in her room (she never really was, so that wasn't surprising) but when I didn't find her curled up on the rug downstairs I knew there was something wrong. And then when I didn't find her anywhere around the house, or in the streets, or on the roof reading a book, or at the store getting groceries, or jumping from dumpster to dumpster with her pirate hat, or at the school, or anywhere. I even checked the places I knew she wouldn't be at. And then I kept checking and re-checking the same spots over again. And then by the time it was dark I kept looking. I ran around the whole neighborhood all night, relying on the moon and street lamps to guide me and when I finally had to quit because I could barely move, I found Jay sitting on the front steps, crying and clutching a blanket tight to his chest. And even though there wasn't a good part to the whole ordeal, the best part (bless the kids god-damn soul) was when I sat down next to him and he handed me a cigarette and lighter and shared the blanket with me. He slept with his head in my lap that night and I stayed up with a tiny flicker of hope that maybe she would come back and the whole thing would just have been one shitty ass nightmare. But the sun rose, mom stepped over us on the stoop, and Navy never came back.

That's when I had to go find my job and start to learn how to be a man. (Funny joke, right? Me? A man? Ha!) I never really thought I would be a dad when I was just 12 years old and it was probably one of the most taxing things I have ever had to endure. I was lucky enough to hit puberty at age 13 so I could look like I was at least 16 and some people would hire me. I did odd jobs around town for about a year and did a bit of drug dealing to scrape up some meager amounts of food for me and Jay. Sometimes I even had to resort to stealing money off my mom's nightstand before she, or the random nasty guy next to her, woke up. For about a year it was really rough - money was hard to come by, spirits were completely shattered, and life really didn't turn around until I got offered the job at the underground club. It was a bit of a ways away from where I lived (a little over an hour of walking - not too long if you ran) but it was worth it. I got paid decent and on the nights I was forced into pole dancing (forced isn't always the right word - sometimes I'm glad to entertain) for the people around the club I get even more money thrown at me. On those nights I make sure to go home with something special for Jay. Something small - like a donut or a new deck of cards - is always enough to keep him happy for awhile. Things were looking up for me and Jay for awhile. And then Jay turned 12 and became eligible for Reaping and things went bad again. Jay didn't mind of course, but I grew paranoid. Jeez that first reaping with him around made me feel like I was going to puke. But his name wasn't called, nor mine. But then, during Jay's second reaping, I heard a name I hadn't ever dreamed of hearing ever again.

And that's my life right now. Watching my big sister whom I thought was the strongest person in the world crumble to a billion pieces on live television. I couldn't even muster the guts to say goodbye. And I didn't let Jay go see her either. I knew it would probably just make his situation worse. Plus it was the rule I couldn't break: Don't drag Jay into it. (First time I may have ever said "No." in my entire life.) And now, even though I promised myself I wouldn't, I know I will eventually have to find out what she has been doing for the past two years. All I can hope is that is was worth it. Worth not getting a goodbye from her brothers before she went off to die.

And girl, you and I
We’re about to make some memories tonight
I wanna live while we’re young
We wanna live while we’re young

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