cadence finley, district two, fin

My brother says I'm his rock.
He spends so much time deciding who he is he never stays in any identity for long. Me, I'm the opposite. Me, I spend so much time being myself that I don't think I could be anyone else if I tried.
He tells me I worry too much, but I think someone has to worry for him, or he's going to end up dead.

I came home last night and found a crying girl on the steps outside.
She was pretty-a blonde. My brother's girlfriends usually are. I didn't bother to ask why she was there because I already knew well enough.
He doesn't do it out of malice. It's just the way he lives.
Me, I'm more invested in things. Me, I live knowing that I have to be able to cope with the results of everything I do.
That's one of the differences between me and my brother. When I have girlfriends, things don't end out of boredom. I've only had two, so far, but they both lasted as long as they could. One had religious fanatic parents who told me I was a sinner. One decided she would rather be with her ex-boyfriend. Both reasonable things.

Here's me: Cadence Logan Finley. Seventeen years old. Short brown hair. Drunk dad. Mother who may as well not exist. Twin brother who couldn't commit to anything if it killed him- Orpheus Haven, in case you were wondering. The music names came from my mother. I assume the preachy hippie middle names did too.
She actually had a shit to give about me and Orph, back then. Weird, right? Couldn't be farther from now.
She remarried, by the way. Two kids. I saw them in the street and prayed she wouldn't recognize me-and if she did, she had the sense not to say anything. I didn't tell Orph because he didn't need to know.
I haven't seen my dad for eight months. I don't know if he's still even alive or he's drunk himself dead. At this point, I don't think I care either.

I'm not a girl who takes things lying down.
I stand up for myself. I stand up for my brother. I will never be passive. If something needs doing, I get it done.
I was the one who initiated me and Orph moving out last year. I was the one who found the place, persuaded the owner to let us stay there, even gave her extra to not turn us in for being alone. We're still only seventeen, after all, and no matter how much growing up I've had to do it still isn't enough for the Peacekeepers.
We keep the apartment clean, though, and by we I mean I because Orph is a mess. He leaves clothes and belongings strewn like shed skin, flinging everything into disarray whenever he pleases. I don't blame him for it. I'm used to dealing with my brother. If I didn't protect him from himself, nobody would.

Me, personally, I like order. I like knowing what I'm up against. I can't stand chaos in doses larger than Orph. I think I've had to develop that, in exchange for his messes. Balance. Light and dark. We push and pull, take countermeasures to prevent each other from going too far-or, I do. I doubt Orph knows how to consciously do anything of the sort. The boy's head is a whirlwind, and he can barely get his thoughts straight before they're whisked back into the storm. I don't expect him to do anything for me.
That's family.

It's ironic that my name is Cadence, because I have no musical talent whatsoever. That all went to my brother, flowing out his fingers to the beat-up acoustic he's had since he was ten. I was always more of a doer than an artist. I may not be able to write poetry, but I can knock you out. I may not be able to play a note, but I know how to get what I want, and eventually, I do. I've always told Orph he gives up too easily. I persist until I get things.
I've always been terrified of the reaping, because if I get picked, Orph will die even if I come home. Still, we have enough money that we don't need tesserae, even if they would make our lives substantially more comfortable, but that's a risk I am never going to be willing to take. There are other ways to eat, but getting reaped is not something worth risking for a little bit of grain.

Girls, though. I love girls.
Soft skin, smooth lips, long hair, short hair, Ripred. I fucking love girls.
If you haven't noticed, I'm about as gay as I could possibly be. If you ever see me date a boy, I'm probably being blackmailed. Or I'm possessed. Either way, you should run. Run far.
That's one of the few things me and my brother have in common. Girls. Even though he's not as straight as he seems. I know him well enough-he likes his girls blonde, his boys darker. I take care of him.

Have you ever had to spend your life caring for your twin? It's not as simple as it seems, but I do it, because I love him. He's family, and the only family I'll ever care about.
That said, I know him well enough to say-sometimes I wish the boy could manage things himself. Not often. Just sometimes.

Me and Orph look enough alike people can tell we're twins, but my eyes are lighter than his-they're greyish, to his honey-hazel color. Our hair's the same color, though, and we're similarly complexioned. He's a bit taller than me-I'm around five eight, or so. If I was a little more feminine, I'd probably wear heels to make up for it, but you won't catch me in heels anytime soon.
He's taller, but I'm stronger than he is-I've never been one for major training, but I run, and I've done what I can to build muscle on my frame. As it is, I'm relatively androgynous looking, and I could probably pass for male if I tried. It's not something I consider a flaw, though-I've never been the girliest girl, and with the part of the District we live in, it's probably for the best that I can pass as a guy if I wear a hoodie when I go out at night. Around here, femininity isn't always an asset. The way I dress probably only adds to people's confusion-hoodies, t-shirts, jeans. I wore Orph's hand me downs as a kid, and I still do half the time. We barely can afford to eat, so it's all the better if we can share clothes now and then. I catch him wearing my stuff at times, too- just part of whatever persona he's decided on for the day. I don't question those things anymore.

I'm not a girl that will ever be twirling around in dresses. I grew up with boys, hitting back when I was hit, even when my brother wouldn't. I protected him, even then.
I've never denied any part of myself. I knew I was gay when I was thirteen, I never pretended to be in the closet. I've always believed in being honest-if not in the same impulse-based way as my brother, at least a way that works for me. I will never lie without reason, I'll break laws but not my morals. There are times even I have to back down, but I'm not like my brother, I confront my problems. He runs every time. I'm fight where he is flight.