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Yea: no. Not a career. It seems like everyone wanders off during the day to go get buff and such, but that's a load of crap to be honest. Sure, it could be fun, but honestly: Why would you spend all of your time devoted to one thing that won't help you in the future unless you are chosen. How many people were in this year? Yea: Too many.

Get a life. It ain't happening.

Yea sure, I started out a bit starry eyed and crushing on Cricket Antoinette years ago just like any other kid in a district full of lies where the only thing that mattered was winning one time for a small portion of the year. Sure, my parents were dying for me to start career training one Summer. Sure I went to one lesson and it was a little fun, but I realized the truth.

All of my teachers even kept spouting that nonsense proverb: "The reputation of a thousand years may be determined in the conduct of one hour."

Yea, then I looked a bit ahead. How many people were working in the iron mines deep in the mountain again? Yea: Too many. I wanted a job that would actually be worthwhile.

So I pulled a rebel teenager move and decided that I would break my parents hearts. Oh no, so sad. They cried about how career training gave them their circle of friends and that's all they wanted for me. Yea no. If my training wasn't going to be chill with me skipping one or two or seven days a week and "failing" drug tests then this isn't the activity for me.

So I kept to myself and my friends that had also realized that pumping iron for a few years just to be thrust into a low wage job wasn't worth it, but realized school wasn't the greatest option either.

Hoodies covering my tanned face, brown hair, and dark brown eyes became my fashion choice like all of those darn young'uns. I never realized how easy it was to sneak "Illegal Goods" into school until I started hiding it in my sweater pockets. Security guards were essentially blind. Teachers had given up trying to stop sickly sweet or slightly bitter smells from drifting out of the bathrooms and into the hallways. All the better for my business.

I'm probably making more money now than I would be in a few years if I had stuck with training like all the other numskulls. Not that my parents know of course. It's not like I would tell them about my plant collection in our backyard's garden hidden in a corner behind the set of tall irises. My parents, who had been working their asses off as stonemasons after their career training had led to nowhere, were more blind than the school. I'm not about their blind life. My two younger siblings had long since decided not to tell them either. The gifts I shower onto them were more than enough to silence them. I love them, but I'm kind of disappointed they traveled down mom and dad's path, spending their time training. I tried getting them into my business once, but they weren't interested. So I went back to slouching into corners.

Hidden in corners and alleyways my clients wait as I bring them their next high. They pay me handsomely then slip out of sight before a peacekeeper can show up. Then my darkened eyes glance around before I follow in their steps, my back crouched over to make my tall form smaller. Then a grin forms on my face as I feel the bills in my pocket brushing against my fingers. One of my clients asked me before if I feel ashamed for subverting the law. I just responded no. There's nothing to be ashamed of. If I'm happy, the law can go fuck itself.

I'm not about the life were I follow in my parents footsteps and spend my time working myself till I drop with a chisel just to make a worthless piece of rock for some rich dude in the capitol. Not that I have anything wrong with the capitolites, but I'd just prefer to make a living not associated with them. They can live up there with their pink dyed hair, their cat eye contacts, and their houses made out of gold, but I prefer my own brown hair combed down nicely, my dark eyes, and my slightly citrus-smelling room. I'd rather myself down to earth making real money than breaking rocks for some dude with his head high up in the clouds.

My life isn't all drug dealing in dark corners, though. I'm still a social butterfly flapping my wings around and all that stuff. Sneaking out of my parents' house to party is honestly the highlight of my life right now. Drinking for no reason other than fun was pretty great. My siblings begged me to help them into parties to sometimes, and I was happy to oblige. I know that some say to love is to protect. Reality is to love is to let them do whatever the fuck they want. I'm not one to judge if my sister, who's only a year younger than me, wants to go hook up with some dude in a corner at a party that our parents don't even know we're at. When we'd get home, if our parents noticed, we would just say we were out doing "sibling bonding activities" and all that bull. They were too blind to see my brother tilt a little bit and too ignorant to smell the alcohol on my breath emanating from behind my slightly crooked grin.

So life continues. Make money, party, sleep, school, eat, drink, party, make money, hang out with friends, make more money, party, sleep, school. Not really a cycle, but it continues, and it's worked out pretty well for me.

All that fake shit blow it up
Know they can't control us