[YLIP] Back in Business 💟 Party Time

Not gonna lie, it was more than a little bit fucking surreal to be back here, a year and a half later.

Picture this: You're a boy who came from nothing, flitting around in poverty and obscurity with more than a healthy dose of gender dysphoria sloshing about within your skull until a girl not too dissimilar to yourself takes pity on your sorry looking ass and plucks you off of the streets and into a life that, well, okay, it didn't quite match your dreams, but it was a whole hell of a lot better than it'd been way back when. Said girl had gifted you a name of your own choosing, shipped you off to Six, hooked you up with some shady ass surgeons who were nonetheless good at their job, fixed you up with a body much more to your liking, and had sent you home to live out your new life in style as a proud member of the Haus of Gaultier, once and for all.

And then she'd gone and gotten herself stuck in the Hunger Games and had fucking died, and well, the Capitolite invitation meant for her had to go to somebody, right? And hey, maybe there's a feeling of guilt for not being able to pay back the debt that had been racked up by your mere existence, and, well.

Yeah. The embarrassing part of it all was that Achilles had almost not even made it - he'd been an alternate choice in the end, part of some sort of "voter's pick" that had sent him along with a girl from Nine to schmooze with Victor legacies and Careers and in a couple of cases, both. Her name had been Carly, and she'd navigated the pilot of this damned show in a way he never could have, and then had plucked him straight from the pits of elimination.

Hindsight understood the strategy more. Carly had been hoping to create some sort of plucky underdog duo to navigate the intricacies of the early game, because a) the two of them were some of the only lower district kids there, and b) this wasn't the Hunger Games, it was reality television, and it was safe to root for the underdog when death wasn't on the line.

His fortunes had soared, he'd put a solid year of mixology to the test, won a mini challenge supposed to give him a boost, and then...

Nothing. The company had shipped him back home, said they'd be in contact if the pilot did well, and until then, try not to die, okay?

(More than could be said of Carly. It was a shame - she'd been a good kiss, a kind soul, and Achilles could have generally seen himself bend away from the very strong homosexual lean of his brand of queerness to explore things further. And now she was dead, replaced by yet another cookie-cutter District One blonde, if rumors were to believed.

He'd so been looking forward to their post-mixology breakfast together.)

But then the pilot had come out, and whether it was the prestige of having two tributes in their ranks or something else entirely, but the season had been picked up. And a year later, a year older, a year wiser, Achilles found himself here, right smack dab in the middle of the pool, wearing nothing but his swim trunks and a pair of sunglasses as he leaned against the head of an inflatable yellow duck, sipping the very same type of hashtag fruity mule that had won him the mini challenge.

(Hey, branding is important. If Petalia's cousin sought fit to call him Fruity Mule, then he'd take that and run with it, even if it was a year later).

Honestly, it was neat. Carly's unfortunate death aside, the year had been good to him - he'd escaped his reaping eligibility period unscathed, learned how to possess some much needed confidence, and had even taken to hitting the gym every now and then. Sure, he had a long way to go before he could match the ripped abs and sculpted biceps of the Career boys, but it was a start.

"Fuck it, get wasted!"

Speaking of sculpted Career boys.

He turns his head ever so slightly, catching some good natured bickering between the Fray cousins over by the bar. The girl - Arcadia, he thinks he remembers - is holding a bottle of something over her head, which seems somewhat pointless given that the boy - Trylle, what a One name - is noticeably taller than her, but he recognizes the action in a way he wouldn't have a year ago.

Play to the cameras. Get their attention, whatever the cost.

Fuck it, he could do that.

"Y'all need some assistance over there?" he calls out, lowering his sunglasses just a smidge with his free hand. "Cause I've heard I can make a pretty mean drink." He winks exaggeratedly, lifting his half-empty mule, before drinking most of the rest of it in an equally exaggerated slurp.

Yeah, there'd be no more mister wallflower Achilles this time. Carly had given him his lifeline; he had to make sure not to squander it.

"Just, uh, give me five or ten minutes to float over there and I'll be right there, promise."

you werent expecting the call.

it had been a year since you had left the island along with everyone else that hadnt been sent home a day or two earlier. the rose ceremony had only felt like minutes compared to traveling back home. you werent sure if you were cut out for a life like this anyway. everyone else seemed so confident, and then there was you, stuck between people who had made it very clear that they already figured everything out before they got here.

then carly and lux had been reaped. carly got pretty close to getting out of the arena, but neither of them made it. you wondered how many people actually mourned for them. you planted flowers for them in your garden, because you did know them. it wasnt like everything was just for the show. cameras were always going, but producers were never always around.

it was probably what you missed about the show.

then you were summoned to the justice building, where you were slightly confused, because you knew there was no crime committed. when you got there, with the mayor in toe, you were handed a piece of paper with a number on it. round two? - p you recognized the handwriting, there was a number attached to the bottom of the paper, and thats when they handed you one of the phones that district ten didnt have a whole lot of. you dialed it, and someone answered.

and you said yes.

---

it took you a day to fully pack and wish everyone luck back in the pound that you still affectionately called it. there werent many of you left, and with you gone, it would be even fewer.

you are not sure why you said yes right away, knowing well that you were always apprehensive of your time on this island. the producers and petelia had been convincing over the phone, telling you that this would be an even better experience. the first week had been turned into a pilot episode, but they now wanted a full season. it was not your responsibility to come back, but then they mentioned that the capitolites had really taken a shine to your story.

you felt like you had done bella proud.

walking back into the young love villa had been rather weird. it looked similar and foreign at the same time. you took a deep breath and took in the scenery again. you wondered what was going to be different. you were promised different after all. maybe that was another reason why you had come back.

that and the thrill of it all.

you walked out of the room you had been put in for the night, cameras on you for a moment as you jumped in the bed just to make sure that it was just as comfy as before. you are taken back to the night you spent with trylle and smile. you actually cant wait to see him, and well, everyone.

you walk into the bathroom to change into your swimsuit that you had brought with you. however, as soon as you walk out, a producer stops you and gives you a new swimsuit. you need to look your absolute best. you smile, even though you are slightly offended. that swimsuit you just put on was brand new and cost you a whole packet of seeds. you did not ask questions, you just take it and move back to the bathroom.

you look at yourself in the mirror and run your hair through your even bigger curls. you couldnt even imagine cutting your hair in a moment like this. you blow a kiss to the mirror and officially recognize that this was people mean by feeling themselves. you walk out of the bathroom and the produce smirks and gives a thumbs up.

you walk out of the room and into the backyard where you recognize some of the people already getting raucous.

you hear them talking to each other about getting alcohol in their system, and while you didnt really pick up the drinking habit from last time you were here, this was all about new experiences. plus, you had a feeling that it would make for better tv. you simply head to the bar instead of the pool, where you get a glimpse of trylle for the first time in a very long time.

what the fuck happened.

you smile, because letting your true thoughts out would have probably been too honest. "make me something with peach in it please!" you are excited and maybe a little too flirtatious, but this was your chance to live up eighteen again.

you felt like everything stopped the moment you left.

and it all just started again.