as it was | {mackenzie/nico/beck}

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dars
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as it was | {mackenzie/nico/beck} Apr 16, 2022 20:05:36 GMT -5

Post by dars on Apr 16, 2022 20:05:36 GMT -5

They must have cleaned the room this morning. Or, that's what Mackenzie assumed based on the near-tangible scent of chemical fumes wafting up from the floor. The smell of the bleach had given him a headache almost an hour ago, and this was only supposed to be the first of three locations today. He looked between Nico and Beck, both of whom were also wearing ridiculous outfits meant to 'accentuate' their 'bodies,' and quickly decided they must be having an equally bad time.

Panem's Top Three Most Handsome Victors.

If they were still pulling Mackenzie in for these things, he thought, it must have been because they didn't have a choice. Or maybe Jacqueline had been correct when she said his public appeal was going up after getting a double showing in the top eight again. He'd only gotten the news that he was supposed to be here at lunch- whether that was the reason, or because Jacqueline forgot to tell him, or because Jacqueline told him while he was high and he didn't remember. Either way, it did surprise him that he'd been asked along at all.

Nico was understandable- the youth had been fawning over him ever since he started bulking up about a year ago and his eyes were undeniably dreamy. Nico, like Mackenzie, had been off the market- at least in a public sense- for quite some time, but he was also younger and a singer here in the Capitol, so him still making lists like these wasn't difficult to imagine either.

Mackenzie, though?

Perhaps a lot of his anxiety was seeded in the recent conversation he had with his therapist, but no one else knew about that stuff yet. Even so, standing there posing and flexing and smiling and playing the part made him feel... fake. Thirty, not married, not in a relationship for much longer, a lackluster father, a terrible mentor, and incredibly depressed, but none of that mattered because he had straight teeth, was tall, and had nice shoulders.

"Alright, we need a break."

It was technically supposed to be framed like a question- he wasn't interested in wasting his time with it. They'd give them a break, or Mackenzie would look pissed off or be blinking in every picture they took from here on out. He didn't give a fuck- after an hour in this room, he knew damn well which people had tongues and which didn't. He wasn't punishing anyone he would've ever felt guilty over punishing.

"They gave me a dressing room," he explained in a low voice to the other two. He'd taken a dressing room, more like. "Also, I brought a pre-roll."

Well, technically, he'd brought four. What? This was going to be a long day, and he was damn well going to be prepared for it!

He made his way to the dressing room, not waiting for the last of the three to close the door before he pulled it from his bag, sparked it up, and handed it over to Nico like it was second-nature. It felt nice to do things because they felt right. Existing like this, in some level or to some degree near them like this- it was something they'd all been trained to be used to, but Mackenzie enjoyed his time with both of them.

"Mmm," he said, walking toward Beck, "Eyeliner's smudged."

Things had definitely been... weird between Mackenzie and Beck, and this games day hadn't helped with that. Not to mention, both Beck and Nico had tributes moving forward to the top four and he, oh-so shockingly, did not. Whatever. He was already reaching up to Nico's eye with the sleeve of his shirt prepped to wipe the smear away before he remembered there was even tension. He supposed there would always exist some small rivalry between them- between all of them. He didn't want it to be enough to come between any of them, but it was life and death, and expecting things to always be perfect between them was... impossible.

He let his hand hover in the air a couple inches away from Beck's face, as if asking him for permission.

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

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aspiring beam of light

as it was | {mackenzie/nico/beck} Apr 16, 2022 21:22:50 GMT -5

Post by 🌱 kaitlin. on Apr 16, 2022 21:22:50 GMT -5

The lights are nothing new. It's unsettling all the same.

I haven't been here in a year, really. Longer, even. I don't remember how much time I spent in Twelve before I started planning the parade, but it's been years since I've been on a shoot. I keep my shoulders square, take four deep breath when they put me in a black leather vest and cowboy hat. The first flash feels like a knife in my belly and I find myself gasping, short and sharp, blinking and shaking my head. Inhale, one, two, three, four—

"Alright, we need a break."

"Speak for yourself," I say, winking at one of the attendants. My teeth dance across each other.

Okay, a break sounds good.

I skim my hands across my face, not caring about the time and careful attention the stylists had taken to my face. I crack my hands, and snag a strawberry from the snack table as Mackenzie walks away. Down it, shove a piece of chocolate in, I have to scramble after Beck and Mackenzie down the hallway and follow them into the dressing room.

I scoot backward up onto the dressing counter, lean backward against the wall. I hang the hat up on the little doorknob sticking out of the front where a drawer belonged. Mackenzie puts his hands on me, and it's hard not to see the lines in his faces. The countless nights gone unslept crinkling at the corners of his eyes. He's always worn his whole life on his face, no matter how hard he tried to build himself a mask made of gold. He sweeps his thumb across the corners of my own eyes, and I can see night's spent squinting through the darkness all over his own.

He pulls at my skin, and the corner of my mouth tugs upward. Crooked, always. Old habits die hard.

I swallow, clear my throat. There's something heavy sitting on my chest.

Panem's Top Three Most Handsome Victors.

Ridiculous, really. Nothing new. Something skitters down my spine, cold, icicles forming between C6 and C7. My neck locks up, and I roll my eyes thinking about how I am learning how to take responsibility.

I am practicing resurrection.

"You probably just made it worse," I say in response to him smudging my already very smudged eyeliner.

Mackenzie only steps away in response, fairly enough, but I have to swallow when he pulls the joint out and lights it.

I blink, tell myself I am unconcerned with how this is how to hurt me later. Fist a loose fist at my side. Only my ring finger finds purchase as the prosthetic takes the joint from Mackenzie's hand. "Intercepted," I say; breaking sobriety, old habit, I stick to it over and over. Sometimes I wonder about the ways in which we all hurt each other.

Is this what love is?

I take another hit, smoke thick on my tongue. It tastes sour with the leftover chocolate from the snack table. I exhale, smoke trailing a straight line towards Beck.

"I think it looks great," I say on the exhale. My eyes are level on Beck's.

Joint extended. Smile on.

Last Edit: Apr 16, 2022 22:52:02 GMT -5 by 🌱 kaitlin.

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a haunted house.

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as it was | {mackenzie/nico/beck} Apr 17, 2022 16:17:52 GMT -5

Post by ᴥ on Apr 17, 2022 16:17:52 GMT -5

This is probably the most miserable he's ever been.

No, that's an exaggeration. For a man as intimately familiar with rock bottom as Beck Hailsham there's quite a few moments that beat out being half naked in front of a dozen unpaid interns. Definitely in the top ten though.

...top fifteen?

Either way, camera flashes flutter across exposed skin and in their wake an uncomfortable, itchy sensation lingers. The black leather vest they'd fitted across his chest rests heavy and cold against it, cumbersome and far too tight to even feign modesty. As a result, each breath is heavier than the last and comes a bit too quick. It's made worse by their proximity - his eyes flash toward both Nico and Mackenzie but he's careful not to catch their gaze.

They were once a source of comfort but politics and public opinion had made quick work of that. It's easy to let relationships go rotten when every one of your successes is named their failure. And though Beck feels guilty for it, he's not particularly sorry.

He shouldn't be here, anyway. The wrongness is uncomfortable, all eyes on him toting whispers locked behind their teeth. Why did they invite Hailsham? With a thick layer of concealer beneath his eyes, hiding sleepless nights and concave cheeks - all the little ways he's found to pick himself apart because no matter how often he's been told he should be happy now he's just not.

Every other candidate must have been booked, Beck rationalizes, because he's done his best not to be beautiful.

Mackenzie was an obvious choice, still emanating that golden warmth that had always drawn others in. In the years since he'd met Mackenzie his smile remained the same. Even if his eyes were considerably more tired. He hadn't reached out since the Eighty-Ninth finale - not because he didn't want to but because he wasn't sure what he'd do with himself if Mackenzie didn't respond.

Nico, on the other hand, wears the spotlight with considerable ease. He grinds their admiration up between his teeth and spits it at their feet, making it apparent just how meaningless it is to him. He adjusts his cowboy hat and Beck has to keep himself from giggling as some attendants chitter in admiration. Not that he blames them, it's hard not to look at Nico Thorne and be anything but tongue tied.

His plastic smile broadens as lights flash again, an ache budding at the back of his skull. His pulse picks up, a telltale staccato that skips as many beats as it needs to be painful. Panic is bitter and metallic at the back of his throat. He shifts position, going to sling an arm around Nico's shoulder to keep himself upright when-

"Alright, we need a break."

The heaviness in his chest begins to dissipate, letting his appreciation escape on a low exhale, "Absolutely fuck this." Soft enough that it's a secret to be shared among the three of them.

"Speak for yourself," Beck finds it in him to laugh at that, so warm that it scalds his tongue. Nico brings up the rear as they seek refuge in a dressing room. Beck lets his head fall back on his shoulders as the acrid scent of burning paper sinking deep into his lungs. It's deep and earthy, carrying with it all his memories of Nico and Mackenzie from easier times.

Before he loved them this deeply and it made everything so fucking complicated.

"Mmm," From where he leans against an open vanity, the sound of approaching footsteps sets his nerves on fire. A spike of a adrenaline that he quickly swallows - it's always a conscious effort to keep himself from returning to the jungle. "Eyeliner's smudged."

He cracks his eyes open just to roll them, gazing up at Mackenzie with raised brows. The Victor's hand hovers just beside his face, hesitant and asking more than just permission. In spite of himself, Beck's lips curl into the ghost of a smile - his first genuine grin in weeks. And he pushes away the realization that this is yet another instance of someone else being brave because he wasn't.

"I think it looks great," That's Nico, just out of his line of sight. He lets fondness settle in his chest for them both, though his gaze remains on Mackenzie.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," He inclines his head toward Mackenzie's hand in silent permission, mouthing a quiet thank you because the words get lost in his throat, "with everyone but me." With his eyeliner fixed, he accepts the joint and takes the longest drag he can, holding his breath until smoke explodes from between his lips with a ragged cough.

"I say we make a break for it. I heard there's an interview later and I'd rather cut my other arm off than answer questions about my skincare routine."