Helpless, Not Hopeless {Open}

Derick Nashont

I raise my eyebrow as she stumbles out she basically wants me to pay for her lunch. It lowers quickly and I straighten out my countenance. I put on a winning smile, teeth literally flashing in the bright sun.

"Of course. I was about to have lunch myself. Where would you like to eat? I wasn't sure where I was going to go yet."

I bow and give a slight flourish with one hand.

"That is, if you care."

As I go through this routine, I'm puzzled. Of course I have the money to pay easily, in fact it wouldn't matter a bit economically standing. My shop makes more money for me then I can spend without going over the top. I already where light-up clothes in parties at night! I've always tried to be lighter then most though when it comes to self changing. Obviously the Avox or two, full gym, and many other luxuries at home, like most. But I don't do the plastic surgery, or implants, that so many other indulge in every day just because they're bored.

I look her up and down. Frankly, not much up and down to look at. From a how long it takes when someone's that short perspective. She has black hair with bright read highlights. Not very different. A glass eye. A bit on the over-the-top side, but I could see kids thinking that fun, and a nice conversation topic. But not overly different. A tattoo on her face. Once again, not strange. Probably her mom wants her to wait till she's 18 or something to be surgically altered.

"And also, what's your name? Derick Nashont, at your service."

I look for any name recognition in her eyes. I may be a small business owner, but I like to think I'm well known.

Derick Nashont

My eyebrow goes up once more from the outburst at the mention of my name. I didn't think I was THAT well known. Distinctly less in fact. I would think she was over-reacting so I would suggest a better restaurant if she didn't seem so innocent. The glass-eye might very well be from my shop for all I know. I don't really manage the rare eccentrics part of my shop, I leave that to the lackeys. It would seem odd to people if I personally polished a bunch of glass eyes. More than odd, downright strange.

"Well Galaxy, I know a great sea-food place down by Terry's Textiles, around the block from here. A bit of a walk, but worth it in my opinion. It's called The Sea's Bounty. Everything freshly shipped from District 4."

I stop, realizing I'm rambling a bit. I guess when I did an advertising campaign for them, it became a habit to up them as much as possible. It's all true, but still. I sound like the advertisement. Not enough of an embarrassment to make me try to stop a blush, but enough it seems like I abruptly stop talking.

"How does that sound?"

I realize as I say all this I think I do recognize her from my shop. She was almost always in the middle of a gaggle of girls, and usually covered in make-up compared to know. I straighten my tie slightly. Considering her usual make-up layer, she probably had a very well-to-do mother who would probably hear of this. The more rich people who hear good things about me and my store, the better. I don't need any more money than I already get, but it's a sort of competition between me and the other major jewelry stores. I would like more so I could hire people I could trust, that way I get money and have more free time. Not that I already have too much free time or anything. But that little bit more could raise me in society quite significantly.

Derick Deshont

As she asks me to lead the way, I take her arm in mine and steer her through the crowds. This way, if we want to talk, we can. I wonder though how she got so hungry. I've heard the common breakfast here feeds a full family in the district for a full day. Of course, I don't take any deeper meaning in these statements. In fact, they're getting more food than they deserve. It seems. At moments. I shake my head to get these thoughts of having to much out of my mind. We deserve the best, as we are the best. Some small corner of my mind, long quite, tries to make me see that the districts deserve more. It is silenced quickly and efficiently. That is talk that makes things worse for me AND would get me hanged. Which would make things worse, obviously. I try to focus on the moment, and realize that I should give a warning about the restaurant.

"Just so you know, they use scent stuff in there fairly heavily. But it's better then if they just let you smell the fish."

I smile jokingly. It's true though. Any place that traffics in that much sea food is bound to smell. Very badly. They try to cover their tracks, so the customers experience is better. One day, they took inspiration from an old country called India. Whatever the scent was, they used a few hundred times too much of it. I really let the manager have a piece of my mind. I went straight home, without stopping to talk to anyone. The clothes went straight in the trash bin. Luckily they got so many complaints that they even fired the guy who suggested the scent.

"So what has you out and about in the shopping district Galaxy?" I inquire. "On the look for any new fashions?"

Derick Nashont

As she says she was kicked out, I nod slightly. Most kids in the Capitol have to leave home at one point or another for their parents social gatherings. When I was in my parents house years ago I had to leave numerous times for their 'meetings' with friends. For my mom it was usually because she was embarrassed I wouldn't let her put an embarrassing tattoo on my face. She already made me have plastic surgery once after my dad made me and the plastic surgeon completely botched the job. Now I stay away from my parents along with changes to my body. Sure, tattoos are fine, but I wasn't forced to get one that was horribly done.

Galaxy is bumped once as we walk and falls, so I walk her up while shooting the unconcerned bumper a glare. They take no notice and continue walking, their surgically implanted fake tentacles coming out of their neck bouncing behind them. Really, the kinds of things people are willing to have attached to them. Disgusting.

As I help her up, I can tell she is impatient and hopes to be there soon. I wave my arm in front of us.

"There, my dear, is The Sea's Bounty."

At the end of the short connecting street we are standing on the corner of is a huge affair, easily the size of a small shopping mall. The walls are actually heavy-duty glass. The walls of a giant, twisting aquarium. Schools of fish and many loan creatures swim through the labyrinth of glass. An octopi drifts down a pillar. A large school of minnows flashes up the sfront of the building and into the giant letters proclaiming the location to all. A grand sight, no matter how many times you see it. In section inside, kelp and coral grow around secluded tables to give those who wish some privacy what they desire.

"And that is why they need to put in a heavy scent."

I laugh with pleasure at the sight of some kids, probably about 12, running around the corner. They instantly forget the game they were playing and stare with wonder at the building. As soon as they get over their shock, the game seems to become a race to see who can convince their parents to go there for lunch first.

"A wondrous sight to behold, is it not Miss Exsaedia?"