thread of fate . arrows

The stacks of manilla folders in his hands were already too much. He’d lost a few of them after his last interview, the wind snagging them as he’d left the building in a mad rush. They had loved his designs, they’d said with smiles as fake as their lips. Paul might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could tell when people were lying to him. It was easy enough to learn when your mum raised you through half-truths and lies.

Next on the list was a place he hadn’t even heard of before. Ever since the 69th Hunger Games he hadn’t been invited back to gamemake. Their loss. It seemed that creating a victor that was also the symbol of possible rebellion was not something to be proud of. Paul liked to believe he’d done a great job, Katelyn Persimmon was one of the more impressive and memorable victors in the history of Panem.

Maybe if she hadn’t then gone on to bring home Kirito and Harbinger she wouldn’t have cost him a job.

He liked her though, she had spunk! Paul liked spunk. Her fashion sense was a little outdated, and more times than he could count he had thought about asking her if she wanted his help. He’d thought better of it every single time, though, biting his tongue and moving along whenever he saw her in the street. She probably wouldn’t appreciate seeing his face. Paul had the distinct sense that Katelyn didn’t really like any Capitolites, maybe one day he’d be brave enough to talk to her.

The next building reared its sparkling head up in front of him and Paul readjusted the glasses on his nose, peering into the sky to admire its height. Hopefully, this place would give him a shot, he was enthralled by the world of fashion and desperate to take a step into its wonderful embrace. So far, though, no one had even given him a second look, they thought he was too old. They assumed he was behind the times, but he was very much so in the times (is that what they say?).

“Naomi?” Paul said, gaze focused on a beautiful woman in front of him. Her back was turned to him, but it was impossible to forget or miss her radiant appearance and amazing figure. And besides, Paul had always been a massive fan of her fashion company, one of the most famous and prestigious fashion designers in all of Panem.

“It is you!” Paul stepped forwards, clutching his manilla folders to his chest as he walked up beside her. “It’s been such a long time, how have you been, darling?”