olivine blake | one | cb, fin

I think of myself as half ornamental, like the star planted at the top of the tree during the holiday season. There's another more important purpose of my existence, probably, but if there is then it's been forgotten by now and the only time I seem to matter is when they plug me in to watch me shine. Someone with better values would've said 'fuck it' and stopped caring what they think. Someone with more of a spine would've refused their own coding before they allowed themselves to be loved by their laurels. But I don't have good morals and I guess I don't have that strong of a spine: If the only way for me to feel loved is to shine, then shining is all I ever want to do.

Pretty boy, my trainer once said, the most useless nepo baby career since Phenakite Shore to come strutting through those doors. I don't know her specifically, but I'm familiar with the family name. I think they have as many victors in their family as we do in ours. And though theirs is much more recent, ours was the first. Maybe every family like us is doomed to have one person who isn't taken seriously, whose talents aren't as appreciated. What does it matter if it's with honey or vinegar if the flies are attracted nonetheless? Why am I the bad guy for doing with grace what should not be considered graceful? What difference does it make whether my hands are clean or not if the blood has been spilled regardless? Eulalie has enough brute force traditionalism hammered into her for the both of us. And as a reminder, cousin Velvette is off taking more ballet lessons than combat classes at that ridiculous academy she's a part of. So if my job half of the time is to shine, then that's what I'll do and I will be taking no critique from anyone else. Because then, when it comes time for the other half, none of them will see it coming.