ajax coldwell. d1. fin.

The burden of high expectations.

It's tiresome to watch my parents strive for something they'll never achieve. Truly, there is nothing special about my family. We're respected, rich, and identical to every other career family - except we lack numbers. My father decided that if he birthed a disappointment, he would rather not risk birthing two or three disappointments afterward. I understand his perspective; numbers win the popularity of the District, but so many of our careers are embarrassing failures. Most of them end up from the same family, or some distant branch of the same family. They run in circles trying to save their 'well-earned' reputations. Meanwhile, I can't remember any of their names. I suppose I can't find the time nor motivation to care.

Unless they're good-looking, of course.

That's where my failure lies.

Father has a detailed map of how he wants my life to pan out. I'll train as a prestigious career until I'm old enough to marry, then I will marry a beautiful woman and help her bear little Coldwell babies to continue our bloodline. Oh how disappointed he will be when I decide not to do that. What will he do, I wonder? I've never seen my father act in desperation before. It will certainly be entertaining to watch, if he doesn't try to ruin my future in the process.

I'm currently betrothed to an irritating career girl from another rich family. I was willing to give her a chance, perhaps pretend to love her and live my own, secret life with secret lovers. Unfortunately, she lacks any ounce of wit or charm. She has wealth and beauty on her side, as well as success in her career clases, but I simply can't stand her.

I also prefer the company of men. Oops.

She feels the same way about me, so we have no plans to follow through on our parents' arrangement. My father doesn't yet know that, but he is aware of my limited taste in lovers. That was certainly an uncomfortable conversation. He was never one for a temper tantrum, but his expression of disappointment hurt a lot more than I expected. I might've preferred he raise his voice rather than gape at me in disgust. He didn't say it out loud, but I truly am a disappointment to him. Now his plan is to cover that up by forcing me into the marriage.

Not going to happen.

I try to spend most of my free time out of the house. If I'm not at my career training, I can guarantee you I am somewhere having a conversation with decent people. Boring people are some of the worst sinners on this Earth. How does one entertain themselves without witty remarks? So many serious careers taking everything literally, as if they have an axe held above their throats. With the types of families here, perhaps they do. You won't catch me interacting with those lovely folks. I'd rather stare at paint drying.

I'm not a simple man. Simple people are boring. I enjoy a challenge, a taste of fun. By no means am I an adrenaline junkie, but a decent party every once in awhile certainly lifts the spirits, especially when the clock strikes midnight. That's when lust is in the air, and I do plan to enjoy my sexual freedom while I still can. There isn't much my father can do right now, but I know he will eventually try. Clock's ticking.

Everyone asks me what my weapon of choice is. Such a boring, typical career conversation topic. I'd rather play a game of chess to test their wits, but the answer is always the same - spears. The longer, graceful weapons are what I've mastered the most. Swords aren't too bad either. Axes are brutish, but effective. I have delicate hands, so I prefer to wield whatever is light. If I'm ever on television, I refuse to look like some bellowing ape swinging his bloody axe back and forth. My standards are too high for that.

Not to mention the tribute uniforms. Sometimes those are absolutely atrocious. If I ever end up in the Capitol, I do hope we are allowed some creative freedom with our stylists. They must hire anyone these days.

Then again, if all goes well, I won't touch the games. A perfect world means I won't marry my betrothed, and I'll grow old and fashionably frail with my lover in the house I inherit.

What a lovely, unrealistic dream.