unscriptedddd (pthalo)

It had been almost a month since the 59th games and almost a month since Julian had even left his house. Actually it had been more than that. He had been holed up since the moment he said goodbye to Midas in the Justice building. The last time anyone had seen him was during his hysterical outburst on Reaping Day. Old Julian would have been appalled at the spectacle he had created, but the moment Midas’s name was pulled from the glass balls on that fateful day. Julian had kicked and cried and screamed as his fellow careers had pulled him back. He begged to volunteer, but Midas wouldn’t let him.

Julian had woken up early this morning, actually he may never have went to sleep. All his days ran together now; he had no idea what time it was. However as he sat alone in his room, something struck a chord with him and he had to run… run as fast as he could away from everything. Away from his parents. Away from District 2. Away from the Games. Away from life. He ran as long and as fast as he could, though his near two month disappearance from the world had taken its toll on Julian’s physicality. He had barely eaten in all this time and his lean muscular form was now frail and boney. He could still run though. Whether it was strength or adrenaline, he kept going.

He was just about to collapse from fatigue when he came across Grind sitting teary eyed on a bench. Pretty much all the careers knew each other some way or another and Julian and Grind were definitely known among them as friendly, well friendly-ish rivals. Julian had once respected him at the very least; he knew Grind was powerful. The person who really had a problem with Grind though was always Midas. Midas—Julian stopped dead in his tracks as the name rung through his thoughts. He shook, trying to catch his breath while the world spun around him. He felt as if he were going to be sick.

Julian was shocked into awakening at the sound of Grind’s voice. He looked up and looked around him, almost forgetting where he was. He brought a hand up to his windswept blonde hair, as if needing to touch something to regain a grip on reality. He seemed to think for a moment and took in a deep breath. He stood up straight and placed his hands on his hips, giving Grind a look of complete hatred.

He began to speak, his voice was much quieter than it used to be and somewhat raspy from it’s lack of use, “If I recall correctly… this little bitch used to kick your ass in training on a regular basis… and so did Mi—” He had to stop himself. He couldn’t bring himself to say the name aloud any more; it hurt too much. Who knew that just two syllables could feel like knives through someone’s heart?

Julian looked down to the ground, anger taking over him. This is why he never wanted to admit his feelings in the first place; he knew they made him weak. Suddenly he hated Midas for doing this to him, for finally making him open up and then just leaving him. He promised he’d come back… he promised. Anger swelled up even more and the perfect target to release it stood before him. The boy who just called him a little bitch. Julian urged his body forward and he brought his arm back to take a swipe at Grind.

Oh no, there it was again! That feeling he was about to be sick; he could feel whatever blood was left drain from his face as he wobbled. He used all his strength to urge his arm forward and hit Grind weakly in the chest. The boy didn’t even flinch. Julian had used what was left of his energy and sank down onto the dirty trail. He pulled his knees close to his chest and laid his head down on them to hide his face.

“Just… go away,” he said quietly as tears began welling up in his eyes. He hated himself. He hated that he became so weak. He hated Grind for seeing him like this. And most of all, he hated Midas for breaking his promise.

Grind’s words about Midas were speeding through Julian’s head as fast as the Capitol trains. “Midas? Dead”, “stronger”, “too dumb to realize” kept repeating over and over again. Julian’s anger was subsiding and the permanent numbness was returning to him. His eyes glazed over as the words continued to pound through his brain. He let himself start falling back into the nothingness he had found alone in his room all of those weeks until Grind’s voice broke the barriers again. Julian’s eyes narrowed as he laid his head in his knees. He hated Grind now for keeping him away from the numbness. This pain was too much to bear.

“But I want to stay.” The stupid words keeping Julian grounded to reality. The frail boy stood up slowly, but remained expressionless; he was trying to find the nothingness.

“Why Grind?” Julian said in a hollow voice. “So you can hit me? So you can beat me for once?” Julian blinked his once bright blue eyes, which were now more a gray tone from malnourishment. He held his hands out to his side as if to show what was left to Grind. His clothes that were once so fitted to the contours of his slim but muscular frame were so loose that his running shorts threatened to fall off and his tank top slid down one of his shoulders. The exposed part of his upper chest was a nasty shade of purple. What was left under that tank top was even worse. One of Julian’s coping mechanisms had become to beat himself in his chest and stomach until he could no longer think about anything else. “Well go ahead. Give me your best shot,” he continued in the same hollow tone, “because I can’t feel anymore.”

Julian watched as Grind’s anger roared up; Grind had always had anger issues for as far back as Julian could remember knowing him. He could remember a time when he loved beating Grind at something just to see how mad he would get. Julian would just laugh and laugh, and Midas would always join in. The image of Julian and Midas laughing together flashed before his eyes. NO! He wouldn’t think about that. He tried to keep his expression stoic as his tear ducts were beginning to get to work again. His arm twitched instinctively to hit himself in the stomach, but he controlled himself. Somehow, that was a private thing; he didn’t want anyone to know that.

“Can’t we just, ya’ know… Nevermind.”

Julian stood there, expressionless as Grind brought his foot up and shoved him hard with his filthy shoes. Julian was so small these days that this simple shove sent him falling backwards to the ground. He couldn’t but wince has he hit the ground and skidded back, lifting up his shirt so his back was cut up by the gravel, and also revealed the purple and yellow bruised mess that was Julian’s stomach, or what was left of it anyway. Really there were just a lot of ribs. Julian hastily pulled his shirt down, but stay laying on the ground, propping himself up on both his elbows, which were now also bloody. He looked up at Grind, hiding his wincing behind once again stoic expression.

“Really? That’s all the great Grind has?” Julian said in that same soft-spoken and raspy tone, “I'm disappointed.” The voice didn’t even sound like his own. Who’s voice was that anyway? Julian Bryze… that was someone who didn’t truly seem to exist any more. He died and now some odd duplicate had taken his place. His body was gone. His voice was gone… His dignity was gone. This boy was a stranger even to himself.

"Ah, sorry. Figured I'd have some sympathy, your boyfriend's dead after all. Have they sent him back yet? In his box? A wooden crate. Normally, I'd be angry about that. The District 2 tributes deserve more. But he didn't, no."

The words struck Julian in a place where physical pain could not. As Grind’s words pierced his ears he felt as if his body was trying to twist itself inside out. The pain was unbearable. Julian’s eyes grew wide with horror as he remembered Midas’s small funeral.

The image of Midas’s lifeless face flashed inside his mind, and his brain rewinded; suddenly the death the huge District 2 boy faced in the frozen arena was playing on repeat, until the visions of Julian’s memory rewound once more. He was in the small room saying goodbye to Midas in the justice building. He remembered that last kiss and Midas’s promises he would come back to him. Now it was just a little earlier in the day and Julian was screaming, pleading to volunteer as he ran down the aisle to the justice building. He screamed and cried, but he realized these words weren’t just a memory; he was doing the same now.

Julian thrashed and kicked in Grind’s grasp, unable to break away as he wailed. “Midas! Come back! Come back! Please! I wanted to volunteer! I wanted to go! COME BACK! Your eye! I CAN FIGHT! Midas! You promised me! YOU PROMISED! MIDAS! DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! I NEED YOU! I need you…” Julian’s shouting just broke into sobs. He stopped thrashing and let his body go limp, falling back into the gravel as Grind’ held his arms up.

Julian was lying on the filthy ground as tears rolled down his cheeks. The only noises escaping his lips were sobs as memories continued to flood back. He was lying on the ground still… it was grassier than this though and there were flowers in bloom all around. It was about this time of year, but one year prior, and Midas had convinced him to take the day off of training as the Games were just ending and they had a whole year to train for the next. Julian could almost smell the flowers around him now. Even better, he could almost smell Midas. Everything about that morning was so vivid.

Midas had leaned over him, the smell of his cologne mixed with orange juice from their breakfast engulfed Julian as he and Midas inched closer and closer. At last Midas closed the gap and the two shared in their first kiss. Shivers ran down present day Julian’s spine as he recalled the moment. Julian had craved that kiss for so long and at the same time dreaded it; he dreaded the weakness that would come by opening the door to those feelings. He had been right; they had destroyed him.

Now he laid here alone crying… no, he wasn’t entirely alone. Grind was there, and he was speaking.

“Stop talking about him. Talk about … me.”

Julian sniffled and blinked as he heard the words escaped Grind’s lips. He blinked, confused. What in the world was this boy saying… Julian sat up and wiped his eyes to find Grind sitting before him, staring at him. Julian heaved himself up and stood towering over Grind. He clenched his fists and mustered every ounce of hate he could into a single glare. How dare this boy insult Midas Farrow, kick the mighty Julian Bryze to ground and now mutter such nonsense.

“Your name doesn’t even deserve to touch my lips. You’re not half the man Midas was and you never will be,” Julian said in disgust. A glimmer of his old self sparkled in his eye as his glowered at the boy before him. He turned on his heels, kicking dust up into Grind’s face and marched off, heading back home to Victor’s Village.

As Julian walked away, he felt something stirring inside of him: power. Something about his former self was returning to him after his confrontation with Grind. It wasn’t the same though. Though some assemblage of strength was returning, Julian was still hollow inside, and nothing good comes from heartless power. Julian’s cruel eyes narrowed in focus as he marched down the path.

“Stop. Just, wait. I need someone to talk to. STOP.”

Julian wheeled around and stood to find Grind following him. Julian’s blue eyes sizzled with hatred as the bore into the boy standing in front of him. The lips that once almost always wore a smile were squished tightly as Julian gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils. Julian may be small in stature but it was looks like this that had earned him the position to be one of the most intimidating careers of District 2. His fiery spirit made him larger than life, and the flames were rekindling.

“You…” Julian started, having to force the words out through his anger, “have the NERVE … to tell ME that YOU need someone to talk to!? You know NOTHING of needing someone Grind! How could you! You go watch the only person you… the only person you love DIE before your eyes… when there is NOTHING you can do to save them! Then… THEN you come to me and say ‘I need someone to talk to’!”

Julian’s gaze continued to burn into Grind; the dark circles under his eyes gave him a particularly hateful look. “You are just as selfish and self absorbed as you ever were Grind Delhomme, and here’s a small piece of advice. Never ‘need’ anyone. It makes you weak and will destroy you in the end.”