xylia fray }} district one. fin.

Jealousy.

I’ve never felt it. There’s no need. I’m the best. I’m the prettiest. I’m the smartest. It’s what I’ve always been told.

I can’t be beat.

I’ve never been jealous.

I’ve never been jealous until right now.

His face lights up the screen. His picture, smiling down on us. Everywhere I look it’s him. Every whisper in the streets is his name. How amazing he was. How perfect he is. How handsome. How they knew it was going to be him all along.

It wasn’t supposed to be him though. He just got lucky.

How can someone like him possibly win. Just look at him. He had no skill, no purpose. He was good looking sure, but he was also a dick.

How could someone get that lucky.

Everywhere I go I hear his name. The streets, the training center, even my own home.

His name is like acid on my tongue.

Justice Fray.

The boy who somehow made it out alive.

The boy who got lucky.

He makes me want to throw up.

I am tired.

I have been for a long time. I never stop. There is no time when you’re trying to be the best.

No time to waste.

No time to lose.

It was supposed to be me, not him. I was supposed to be the first one. I was supposed to bring the family name its first Victor. It was supposed to be me.

Not him.

I have to work harder now, to be better than him. I have no excuses. No time for friends. No time for family. (Not that they care about me anyway).

Sometimes I watch him. To see what it’s like, to pick up what he does. He must have done something right. To win it all. I still don’t understand it, but he must have done something. They always say to learn from those who are successful.

And I know they’re right. So I watch, even though I may hate him.

I see how lonely he is.

How miserable, even though he tries to hide it.

And I see everything he has to deal with.

I no longer think I am jealous.