.:wish for the release:. [lethe/peri vt]

It was the same every single year. It reminded Lethe of some kind of choreographed show, the same people donning the same mask, doing the same dance, saying the same lines, the audience weeping, laughing, cheering when they should over and over, some kind of vicious cycle. And Lethe bought into it.

Lacing herself into her favorite green dress that matched the eyes of both herself and Eden (though she'd never let Eden wear it for Lethe had worn it for her own ceremony and surely it was cursed by now), Lethe dutifully made her face up, did her hair and slapped on the least depressed face she could muster. A sort of cold superiority with eyes that would judge the crowd as below her and the latest Victor as an equal. It wasn't the face of Lethe Turner, the young woman of District Five, mother to Eden Turner, but the face of Lethe Turner, the Victor of the Capitol.

This year, it was a Career boy, breaking the recent trend of Victors from a surprising range of lower Districts. And Lethe knew what that meant. Whereas someone like Klaus or Heron was just surprised at their victory, considering the Districts they came from, this Career most likely wasn't not. He must've foreseen it. He was groomed for it, was he not? Groomed to kill children which was exactly what Lethe watched him do, her lips tight, eyes no longer widening at the unimaginable gore spread across her television screen.

But, Lethe could not judge him. For when it came down to it, Lethe herself did not hesitate to bloody her hands.

When her lipstick was probably applied (with the help of her mother of course), Lethe pulled on jacket and prepared to go. This was mandatory, forcing the District's occupants to falsely cheer on who had killed their own brethren. This year it had been a beautiful girl named Ellea and a boy, Riker, who Lethe barely knew. And this year, they'd perished and Lethe had to sit alone on the stage as the new Victor was announced. As he was presented with some kind of garland, that itches when placed over the head and a speech was made and Lethe didn't listen. Camalia absently licked her neck, even she was bored off this annual ceremony. Instead, Lethe sized him up. He certainly wasn't kind Aranica, a fellow mother, or timid Klaus, her beer pong partner. Perhaps he was a confident Topaz who, though kind to Lethe, was an object of vague jealously to Lethe for her ability to find someone and keep them. And keep herself together long enough to wait until marriage to make a life-changing decision. He didn't strike Lethe as particularly tough like Mace did nor did he shock her like Heron always managed to. It just added to the known fact that the Victors were all different and they all hid their pain in different areas of their broken bodies.

Lethe still didn't have a firm grasp on this new Victor when they later sat down in the Mayor's house for dinner. Small talk. Laughter. Lethe, as usual, spoke not a word and kept Camalia on her lap, slipping her bits of lettuce now and again, trying to absorb, trying to understand. Being around the other Victors often made her palms sweat and her heart race for fear that they didn't like it. Klaus was kind enough and Lethe found herself trending towards him, the quiet thing he was and Ara often smiled at her. But, she saw the cool, confident way Topaz interacted with Arbor, for example, and her heart sank for she'd never have that same relationship with the very people who understood her. Maybe Peri would-

Dinner was interupted. Lethe, absently reaching for the salad bowl in order to retrieve more lettuce for Camalia, had upset a cup of red wine and as swift as a river, it flowed right into Peri's lap, red stains all over his shirt and Lethe blushed. As if he hadn't seen enough red. Sorrys were exchanges, chairs pushed back, hands pressing napkins to the Victor and instructions to a room up the stairs to the right, a powder room, where he could freshen up. And as the new Victor disappeared, Lethe, face hot, muttering about how careless she was, just so careless, helped tidy up and stomach fluttering in guilt, excused herself to see to the Victor she soiled. Up the stairs and to the right? Thank you.

Sure enough, up the stairs and to the right, Lethe found Peri in the first room, a small powder room, lined with mirrors that reflected the only furniture there: a pastel pink sedan chair and a vanity table where the Victor sat, wiping red wine from his person. Lethe swallowed hard as she stopped in the doorway, leaning her hip and head against the frame.

"I'm really sorry about that," she told him, chewing on her lower lip, "I should've been paying more attention." With another shameful swallow, she cautiously crossed into the room and sat on the sedan chair, pulling Camalia from her shoulder and placing her on the arm rest before leaning forward and self-consciously pulling her dress up as to not reveal too much cleavage. There was an awkward buzz in the air and Lethe knew she should say more. “Nice, huh?” she found herself gesturing around the room, her cheeks still bright red, “I remember doing all this…it was…weird.” She shrugged and the next thing she knew, she was saying, “I watched you on television, I mean, I had to and you know, I have a little girl, she saw a few things…” Lethe swallowed hard, trying to push the image of her sweet, little baby’s face, eyes wide, face pale, terrified, “and uhm…she was interested in you…”

She said you made people go ‘bye bye’… Except she didn’t say it. It was the horror she kept bottled inside of her all this time. “He makes people go bye bye, mommy,” and her eyes were wide and her little chest was heaving and Lethe was breaking, those words glass in her skin. Her daughter viewed the young man before her as a monster. Bye bye…and she didn’t even know that Lethe herself had done the same thing and Lethe…Lethe was that monster…

The young man before her had red blood stains on his clothing and Lethe had them on her hands. Eden, her dear, her daughter, eyes so untrained to that, but one day, she too would see. And what would she think of her? Her own mother? A monster? Could it be?

But, the monster, Lethe Turner, had made people go “bye bye” too.