Sharden Brillick // Capitol {Finished}

My Appearance? What you haven't seen me..? Oh dear, I'm sorry. Well, you see I'm a bit sexy, as guys go. I've got dark blonde and somewhat light brown hair. Though what really gets the ladies, is my blue eyes. They have a bit of a green tint to them that makes them look like they change colors sometimes. Which really, they do. It's kind of awesome. All the girls love it, which means I do too. I have a tendency to give puppy dog eyes to all the pretty ladies sauntering around the Capitol just waiting for me to snag them all up.

I know most Capitolites go around eating like pigs, but I actually eat healthy-ish and work out a fair amount of time. Because of this, I have a very good body. And really I only do it just so I look as sexy as I feel. I've got a nice set of abs and I've got a decently muscular build in general. Well, I mean I have a neck. A lot of a neck, actually it's a bit long. Like Giraffe style or something... So I'm not crazy muscular, I'm just fit, for lack of a better term. But the ladies like it, so I stick to it.

Because I like looking good I keep my body tanned too. I just have a combination of good genes, access to the sun, and an even better spray tan artist that'll airbrush me whenever I go to public events for that look of perfection that's brings envious sighs to the mouths of men and women alike. Yeah, I'm hot. Get over it.

And while I am aware of how criminally sexy I am, I do have those things about me I just can't stand. For instance my neck. Too long. And I have really big feet. But you know what they say about guys with big feet, don't you? I love my hair and it's texture and everything about it, but I have a killer case of dandruff. It's quite embarrassing, though not as noticeable as most peoples' thankfully.

I'm lucky because my nose is a good shape, and it fits well with my face. When I was younger it was way to big. Thankfully, I grew into it. My lips are full and pink, but not too full. I have a decent sized mouth. It's not big but it's not small either. My cheek bones are kind of high. I have a pointed chin, that I swear I would cut off if I could. It annoys the hell out of me. Along with my rather unfortunate features, according to genetics and various doctors, I have a receding hair line. You can't really tell now, but give it a few years. When I get old or something, around thirty-six, it'll start to show.

A lot of people say I have a tendency to act arrogant. Hmmm, I don't see it. Do you? Be honest with me now. I'm laid back. I don't really like getting worked up over things that no one, let alone me, needs to be stressing over. I don't really get angry much. Unless it comes to my sister. If you mess with her, your ass is mine. Clear? Mhm, thought so.

People say I'm arrogant, or a jerk, or this, or that. And, yeah, maybe that's how I appear on the outside. But that's not who I am on the inside. On the inside, I'm someone weak. I'm emotional and sensitive and loving. But instead of showing who I am on the inside, mixed with all the pain, I hide in this shell of superiority and pretend that I'm okay.

Yeah, I'm mean to some people. Mainly when they start getting close enough to cause potential damage were something to go wrong. Because that's how I work. I'm evasive. I don't like any close relationship that isn't with my sister. I don't want to fall in love or get married, I just want to be a free man. Never tied down to anything, and never afraid of the things that can be done. I want to not be afraid. To not be who I am on the inside. That is what I want.

I have only one major weakness. And that weakness is my twin, Nessie. It's her that I have a soft spot for. Though she most likely doesn't know how I really feel inside. It's not for lack of trying because whenever it's appropriate I'm very open with her. But if she does know how I feel inside, she doesn't acknowledge it. Maybe it's better if she doesn't know about these things. She's already gone through enough.

What have I said so many times? History doesn't matter. History doesn't make a person who he or she is. History does absolutely nothing for anyone other than making their life hell or a wonderful place. Guess which on I got?

I got the life where my father wouldn't even be there when my twin and I were born. He was most likely out in the rain propositioning some Street-walker. That's what mother always called prostitutes. I, myself, have never been a fan of them from watching my dad's life go the way it did. As many things as I've gotten into over the years, and street walkers isn't one of them.

I never really enjoyed home that much, myself. I lived there until I could live elsewhere. It meant no more to me than had I been living in a cardboard box at the time. Though it would have been a very full cardboard box, I admit. The oldest, besides myself and Nessie, is Perry. She was born when we were two. Cinth was born just a bit after we turned five. I remember that was the first time I saw a part of the Games. I walked into the living room one day and saw someone get mauled to death by a mutt. There was blood everywhere.

Just a little bit before Nessie and I turned six, she had an incident. Both of us were coloring, and as usual I wasn't paying attention to what was going on. But then I heard the music begin quite loudly. I remember it startled me at first because of it's volume. The next thing I felt was Nessie's grip on my arm. I didn't understand why. I was way too young. But I remember thinking that, no matter what, I had to protect her. And I tried to, but mother pulled me away. After that I was the only one who would stay at her side for very long. The others came and went as they pleased, but were careful about spending time with the town's freak. As I got older, I came to hate that about everyone around me.

Ricky was born when Nessie and I were seven, during all crazy tests being done on Nessie that I didn't understand. I was always protective of Nessie, but not as much as I am today. Lillie was born just before it happened. On our ninth birthday, the party, or rather my mothers party that she had for herself with the cover of our birth as an occasion, our cousin shoved Nessie down the stairs. I had just been in the bathroom and I heard her fall.

Nessie got hurt really bad. She ended up in the hospital for a while. And I never left her side. Not for a moment. I wouldn't leave her side any time after that, and I still won't. I will never. So when she ran away from home at the mere age of thirteen, and was ignorant enough to think now one knew, I was standing behind her in the shadow, watching her steps to make sure she was safe. Threatening those who looked as though they would leap from the shadows and steal her away from me. I take care of her. Why, you ask? For the simple reason that no one else will, and even if they did, I wouldn't trust them to do that properly. If I'm watching her, then I can hold myself accountable. If someone else is watching her, and something horrible happens to her, then they will die, and I will be there. Once more in the shadows.