holly sen | d2 | fin

I so very rarely deal in certainties.

It is foolish men who seek strength in convincing themselves of an answer. No - one must weigh multiple possibilities and discern their likelihoods, for few things deemed to be impossible truly are.

That is how to survive. That is how I manage to evade the Peacekeepers and my underground enemies alike, how I slip away from deals gone wrong and allow others to take the fall. If you fall behind in this world - you end up jailed. Or dead.

And there are many in this underground who are my enemies. I wasn't born with influence like the Salvatores or the Borgias. I was born poor yet innocent, and when the allure of profit from smuggled substances and illegal rings first called to me, I feared my nameless surname would never allow me to gain acceptance into their ranks; men may say that success was a roll of the dice, a blessing of the Lady Luck, but I knew no matter how the coins was weighted, no matter how the cards were shuffled, it was only the rich and powerful that tended to get lucky.

Yet one man told me otherwise. One of those dark men, who held out hope in his hand and watched my eyes light up as he opened his fist.

I was sixteen and young and artless. I was sixteen and drank his words like sweet syrup; it was truth that I hungered for and he fed me his truths from the overflowing cornucopia of his mind. I asked and he answered, I learned and he taught, and as I navigated the treacherous underworld he drew me into, such a knowledgable man was a lifeline.

"Money, my dear girl," he said. "Like it or not, money rules the world." And there and then I decided I would like it, and then I would win the money and rule over all I had been powerless against. There's not a system in the world that can't be beaten, and in the end I must be the one standing on top.

I loved him, and he hated me. No, that's a lie - or at least a gross oversimplification. He promised me power and influence and I clung tight to his coat-tails even when I was constantly trotting to keep up with his tall frame and long stride, dragged by a surprisingly sturdy fabric of connections and introductions and secret acquaintances.

If I could keep up with him, then I would win. But he was also a man who waited for nothing and no one. Sixteen and foolish, I imagined flickers of love in his hard brown eyes as he taught me which Peacekeepers could be bribed, who to make deals with, the tide of the elections, how to read President Snow and the Arena to make the Game betting books.

People only care about themselves, he told me again and again, just remember that and you'll always get what you want. And each time I watched him act, and I still believed he was different from the 'people' he warned me about. I still believed that he let me come along with him because he liked me, because he thought I had potential -

I know better now. It was all an act - I've seen how easily he hits it off with those traders like they were buddies, only to launch into a long list of their flaws as soon at they were out of earshot. I could piece together who he refuses to work with just by listening to the rumor mill.

He never did like me. He never did care. He only let me alongside him because he found me useful.

And as long as I continued to see his opinions as the truth, he was happy.

Until the Peacekeepers raided.

*
Your fault, your fault, your fault, came his reproachful glare as the batons battered at the flimsy wooden door of our hideout. Didn't I task you with double-checking my work?

If I hadn't missed a detail, if I hadn't absentmindedly nodded at his plan instead of noticing the flaw, then maybe the Keepers wouldn't be here right now. Maybe we'd be having another peaceful afternoon instead of a CRASH as the door splintered and barrels of a dozen guns pointed at our faces.

Two separate cells, a barrage of endless interrogations, I only shook my head and kept my mouth shut. We had not made so many slips that they would be able to prove anything; a slap on the wrist, a threatening reprimand, and we'd be back in business.

How had I been so silly as to forget the most basic lesson he'd taught me? It is only foolishness, to take a man who tells you to betray another and trust he will not betray you in turn.

I watch him walk away free as they drag me to the whipping post, every lash a crime he'd struck a deal to pin on me alone. My fault, my fault, my fault.

"I wish it didn't have to end this way," he said, but lying lips cannot be trusted for real remorse; the world he'd carefully crafted for me comes crashing down like a house of cards - and the suits still surrounded me.

False emotions and artificial tenderness are only a mask for cold selfish calculation. That is the only constant.

The scars I still bear across my back remind me that I must not trust. I must not allow my emotions to impair my judgment, because he is only one of many like him. I must not have mercy, because the merciful are only looked down on, their kindness a shackle that pulls them to endure repeated assault. I do not exist to feel, I exist in order to win, and there must be no sympathy to those who stand in my way.

I have not - will not - lose my ambition despite those who wish otherwise. Their threats will not deter me, and if they wish to drive me out they will not find it so easy as they imagine. If they plot, then I will plot to foil them. If they investigate, then I want to be the sole owner of the whole truth. If they kill, then I will kill. Even if the road is hard, even if they all stand against me, I will one day beat these stuffy pale men at their own game.

I say that I so very rarely deal in certainties, for it is often premature certainty that undermines investigation and pulls one toward the wrong conclusion. One must update and recalculate plans whenever one finds new information; following baseless intuition and trusting false feelings has led many men astray, and I must do better.

That is my single certainty. That single belief is what propels me forward - that I must be stronger, must be cleverer, must be better, and I will do anything it takes to win in this ruthless underworld.

(And as for Dr. Black? Oh, of course I didn't do it. To be honest, though, it's no great loss.)