Elliot is a handsome boy. Gorgeous boy. A double crowning kind of boy– homecoming and prom king. He sits atop the picnic bench, the one that kids desperate for popularity look onto like a goal they're trying to pass. Only four of them (his two best friends, his girlfriend, and himself) have a claim to it. Elliot makes sure of that, using all his height to stretch from end to end on the tabletop. Letting anyone else into a group as tight as this might cause them to implode. Things are delicate enough in high school, no need to pull at the rubber band and risk it snapping back.
While the bench of his closest friends is a second home, Elliot wanders off sometimes, letting his reputation build. He's Lover Boy, the Heartthrob. One can always tell by the look in his eyes that he's listening intently. Have a crush that you're scared to ask out? Elliot will bridge the gap. Need a passing grade on the English quiz you didn't study for? He's by your side talking to the teacher after class for an extension.
The Prince Charming, aided by good looks built from the career training he is now retired from. The luxurious industry of District One transitioning from physical beauty to entertainment opened doors that would evade intensive physical labor entirely. Acting. It started with school-sponsored plays he would partake in as a kid. The Capitol moved on from just relying on Saturn City for their television obsession: their favorite district now has the most fun role of them all. Growing up in this time is perfect. The Capitol loves teenage drama, they adore young love. Eighteen years old now, Elliot has the opportunity to make it big: Mister Number One.
A collection of small gigs has allowed the Bordeaux family to go from less than modest to comfortable (in the future, anyway.) Elliot's family has never been rich by District One's standards. His father completely threw out his back too early in life to build up any sort of wealth, which meant his mother's income as a jeweler had to be enough. Shiny presents and diamond-encrusted built-in pools aren't necessary things. Of course, the contracts from the Capitol aren't ideal. He'll start receiving payments for his work as an adolescent the day he turns nineteen, backpay along with any other earnings. It's worth it for the exposure. As an actor, he doesn't know when his time on the shelf will expire. Best case, if he makes it big enough, he'll buy his family a mansion with gold toilets and all. The make your wildest dreams come true kind of boy.
Would any of this have been possible without Kennedy, though? Elliot's girlfriend. They've been together since the second semester of high school, and he's never looked back since. He speaks highly of her at every turn. Kennedy knows how to make a good impression. The first thing she helped Elliot fix when they started dating was his fashion (she completely redesigned his wardrobe.) Then came punctuality (he's never forgotten an audition time since the first kiss.) She's on top of things, including his heart. Most people might consider their relationship inevitable– "oh, they're so end game!" –but not Elliot. Early on, there was always an inkling of doubt that things won't work out, even when every indication has been that they would. Now, everything is perfect: from their promise ring photoshoot to the sweet nothings on the night walk home.
They jumped the first big hurdle when Elliot met her family for the first time. Kennedy's father was the one he feared the most, always wearing some buffed-up suit, well-tailored from his enterprise's connections to the Capitol. Every moment of that dinner made Elliot nervous, but by the end, her father was cracking jokes with him casually. One of the things her father noticed was just how Elliot held Kennedy's hand, protectively strong but freeingly gentle. She could let go and he wouldn't move or try to hold on to her. A test he was wise enough to pass. Out of love. As a gift, her father gave him a new pair of sunglasses, a pair of diamonds on either side of the frame, imported from leftover Capitol stock, a sign to Elliot that this love is for the long haul.
Elliot and Kennedy. They make sense together; he's a Lover Boy and she's a Lover Girl. He never had a girlfriend before her, and he'll never need another one. They are forever. He's a stem and she's the roots, keeping him upright. Kennedy's his sun and Elliot's a blanket of clouds, keeping her cozy warm. They're good together.
Young love, her hands playing in his hair atop the picnic bench, forever and ever.