pity party. elena x jaci, 78th blitz.

"JACINTAAAA!"

It was a good thing Jacinta Salazar didn't have neighbours. Elena, all tired legs and muddy shoes and a pout that could kill, tossed her bicycle into the grass outside of her sister's new home and pounded on the door. It had been six months since Jacinta came home and she hadn't even looked at the Salzar home. Elena had cycled around the district for days and days and days on end - always the same route, always to the Victor's Village, always stopping at the gate and taking a chance.

Her father had told her not to bother, to stay away from her estranged sister. That Jacinta was dangerous, that she didn't care for any of them, that she had abandoned their family for fame and glory. Elena had started to believe it, no way that Jacinta wasn't home each and every day of the week. Occasionally she'd find a window ajar that hadn't been open before, a curtain pushed back a different way, a different pair of shoes left out on the porch. Maybe Jacinta didn't care for her. Maybe Elena was still just her annoying little sister who wouldn't leave her alone. Or maybe, just maybe, Elena could coax her out of her mansion and prove her father wrong.

In her spoiled, childish way, Elena still had hope that Jacinta would answer the door. Even when her demands were met with silence and she pedaled back down the road empty-handed with an empty heart, she still held hope for tomorrow. Today was no different, knuckles red and raw, hollering her sister's name until her throat turned raw.

"JACINTA!" a stop of her foot and a sigh. "I know you're in there, c'mon!"