𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

“You just don’t know your fucking way around. People find the best coffee in dark alleyways where it’s either drinking good, strong coffee or falling asleep while working. None of that milky shit you’re only wasting money for to look cool. But you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, bro? Trying to look cool?” Zero sent Forty a tightlipped smile after the teasing bro he’d voiced. 

“well then, surely it’s bad planning. surely your best coffee is no good if you have to search alleyways to find it ??” he simply argued back. forty had never really had a brother, was sure this wasn’t exactly it either. but god, did this awfully feel like a sibling rivalry he’d started himself, was currently losing at, and was entirely unwilling to let go of. “at least i look cool. you wear stupid gloves,” he muttered, a non-committal edge to his blunt tone of voice, as though he couldn’t be bothered to muster up a better insult.

Fickle laughter, internally polite and amiable to the point where even Lara did not recognize it as artificial, played on her lips. “Entirely too late. I already looked at you,” she retorted, trying to match the spirited manner of the conversation, even though she could cry at his piece of advice alone. These days, everything turned her emotional, especially when someone, more or less genuinely, recognized her merit. “Your tributes look amazing as well. And, more importantly, on time,” she coyly complimented his line of work as well. It was true. District Four never shone so brightly before.

"see, i’m more than just a pretty face,” he remarked, despite not having all that much to do with the tributes doing well this year, outside of continuous nagging. he’d been given an easy hand from the start, anyway, picking a district that most tributes came from willingly. the more he considered this compliment he hadn’t earned, though, the more he realised that he actually wouldn’t be bad at the whole escorting job, if he gave it a proper go. he’d always had a certain amount of self discipline, a mentality towards work that meant his professional life was more or less in order, even if his private life was shambles upon shambles. all he’d have to do to be decent at his job was pass that on. wasn’t that pretty much what his mom did, anyway ?? oh god, was forty a manager now ?? “i’ve never liked the whole.. sea theme, though. i feel like district four is far too fishy in its designs.”

A smirk forced itself onto his lips, and Carol just couldn’t swallow this one. Yet, he clicked his tongue, in mock outrage at the words. It wasn’t even because he had found Rio prettier than him (Carol could agree, it’s never been a competition of that). “Enough conversation. Go back to being blind. I did like you better when you weren’t flirting with my dead boyfriend.” This was said lightheartedly still. Carol flinched without wanting to, as the escort once again minimized his job here, and pretended as if his victory was a burden. “You know what I’m not getting, Forty? Why the fuck are you so mean to me? I could be significantly meaner to you if I gave you that sort of attention.”

“i’m not mean to you, i just don’t like it when people get in my way. and you happen to be in my way a lot,” he said after a moment’s consideration, a long exhale. it was severely underplaying the amount of attention he actually gave carol, it was almost entirely forgetting that forty love was a petty person at best. down to its bare bones, though, there was some truth to it -- he didn’t really have that much of a problem with carol, beyond the whole victory thing ( and forty couldn’t deny that had gotten him some decent publicity for once ). forty was just easy to get wound up and much harder to bring back down to decency. “i just don’t like any of this. i don’t like that you can win the kind of fame i’ve worked my whole life for in less than a week. and that it’s not even for something nice, but for outlasting a bunch of other kids.”

Wearing a dress made of the same fabric as Aspen’s – and so damn proud of her latest creation, to the point of making her own clothes point out it was hers – Lara remained backstage as the chariots all took off into the parade. Turning to the first available person in obvious gloating, she giggled, “They all look so exquisite this year. We have all outdone ourselves. I don’t know who to look at first.”

“me. you look at me first.” those words left his mouth before he’d even truly realised it, had even formed them in his mind. there was this frown sinking into his features as he spoke, a slightly slowing end to his sentence there, like he caught on halfway through that not everything was about him, or, more than that, that it didn’t always need to be verbalised that everytthing was indeed about him. “i like your tributes, though. they look lovely. take some credit for that, enjoy it. don’t just.. compliment other people, you can always do that later. look at yours first.”

He hadn’t missed as much as an inch of Forty’s vague compliment series, and it did mean something to him, after constant rejection from the escort. As if winning was the worst thing he could do. Still, there was no point dwelling on it. Instead, as if distracted and still stuck on the first thought Forty voiced out loud, Carol inquired, faux innocent and batting his eyelashes. “You could really tell me apart from my little boyfriend?”

“yeah, he was prettier than you and is currently in an urn. i’m not completely blind, you know ??” he responded, shrugged. in fact, he could be rather attentive if he wanted to be, had the shred of self-awareness to know that much, and then to also know that he generally didn’t want to be attentive. “just because i’m here on community service,” he wasn’t truly, but god, did it feel like that, “doesn’t mean i’m not capable of keeping up with things. i just don’t waste my time on anyone here.”

“I’m so glad you shared your opinion, because I care so much what you, random washed up celebrity, think about having to do your goddamn job,” she replied with a big, fake smile plastered on her face. Forty had not caught her in the right mood, not after a day of being neck and neck with her sister in training. “If you hate escorting so much, why don’t you go do some used car lot commercials or something?”

“right,” he hummed, nodded, inhaled sharply because his mouth was half open already, stuck with words he didn’t let fall of his tongue. because she was basically a teenager, and surely he was better than this, and he wouldn’t just go insulting a random soon-to-be-dead girl -- “isn’t it disappointing then, that even if i’m a -- how did you say it --  random washed up celebrity, i actually have time in my schedule to do that used car commercial next week, and you’ll be dead and long forgotten by that time ??”

“I bet you really miss me at this point,” he commented, looking into the distance as one of Sirena’s sisters was moving away from them, assumedly after a conversation with Forty. Carol knew the Atlanticas enough to guess it couldn’t have gone well. “Rio and I were so easy to manage, so compliant. Always on time, never a headache. Really a blessing you couldn’t acknowledge until you lost it.”

@fortyloves​

“at least i could tell you and your little boyfriend apart,” forty lamented, which was as close admitting carol was right as he’d get. it probably was about as friendly as he’d get, too, a ghost of a smile on his features in a way that seemed more genuine than anything he’d provided carol with before. maybe he actually did have bigger fish to fry, and mustering up time to be annoyed by carol’s mere presence just didn’t seem as important. “don’t think i’ll have to worry about four’s tributes this year stealing my spotlight like you did, though,” he said, couldn’t place if it was the biggest compliment he’d ever give, or just another underhanded jab at the tributes.

“Wow,” Zero huffed. “You’ve been drinking this since you were six? There can’t be a lot of variety in this place if you just keep drinking the same shit.” See, he didn’t need it proven to him that the Capitol was in possession of more variety than Three when it came to fucking coffee, but was he just going to give Forty the satisfaction for the hell of it? Of course not. Never.

“never change a winning recipe,” he simply smiled in response. well, it wasn’t just a simple smile. it was forced, tight in a way that gave away the lack of effort he put into it. tight like how he held his coffee cup just a little tighter then, because how dare zero linux from district fucking three say anything to someone like forty, really ?? it wasn’t as though forty had specifically started this conversation, or anything. “i couldn’t get any good coffee while i was in three at all. i feel bad for you, really. i pity you.”

Surya at first wasn’t sure she was the person this conversation was meant for, if not for the very specific opening line. There was a lot to take in, and her hand hovered an inch from her glass of wine as she listened. She paused, to process, and finally picked up her glass to take a sip. “We do need an escort,” she confirmed with a nod. She’d already asked for help from Moxie, and she doubted a transfer could happen immediately. That didn’t matter. Regardless of what happened with Honey, the escort position would be open. Someone with experience would be good. Someone with a face the Capitol would know. “Is Carol really that devastating to work with? I don’t want someone on my team who is just looking to jump ship. I am looking for someone to make this a winning district.”

oh god, he wasn’t an escort that actually did the work, though. he wasn’t an escort that wanted a winning district, he was an escort that was desperate to get himself out of his job. still, he rather believed the capitol incapable of a win. he rather believed his chances of avoiding a headache there would be a little better than while working for district four, a district that both served up careers and had literally won as soon as forty joined the team. he couldn’t “okay, sure, you don’t want an escort who is just looking to jump ship. but what if it’s me ??” maybe it was more of a hypothetical than a true offer, god knows how long an actual transfer would take, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t try and play his cards right regardless. he tilted his head a little, actually looked at surya then. “surely you’d want me ??” he was forty fucking love. he still kinda wished his mom had picked that as his middle name, it would’ve added some pizzazz.

@zero-linux​

@thetisatlantica​

@surya-mirga​

“Well, twice year it’s my job to get my full of television, and in between I’m on the screen almost as much as you are. Almost.” she repeated, because she wasn’t sure if there was even a way someone could be as exposed as Forty Love was, from the time he was a child. At least Jules always had Eight to run off to. “So nothing really holds my attention in the off-season.” This was, though, her eyes flickering from Forty’s stoicism to the flashing images. District Thirteen might as well have been a different planet, she felt. A world different than her one was unimaginable, and yet there it was, in full color. Listening to the surety in Forty’s tone, Jules tilted her head to the side, in a mock impression of the confusion someone stupider might show. “Are you in the President’s Cabinet, Forty? Have the inside news on Battenberg’s political strategy?” 

“i admire the effort, darling, i do. even if you’re not on there as much as i am.” because jules had said almost, and forty was more than willing to acknowledge that, though he couldn’t quite place whether this was some vain competitiveness brewing behind his tone, or if he was somehow lamenting his own lack of privacy. “i could hold your attention in the off-season,” he said, words sounding almost as though this was a self-prescribed challenge he had now accepted. just like jules, however, his eyes mostly remained on the tv screen, the shots of thirteen he’d happily pretend didn’t inspire some curiosity in him. no, simple fact was that forty owned all he could want from the world already, and another district he’d never visit added to that was trivial at most. “no,it’s just that i’m not stupid enough to think this will pass without consequences. you’re not either,” he pointed out in a hum.

She gave a brief smile at his pleasantries, not at all shaken by his questioning. Pluto considered herself, like most things in life, necessary, not important. She did work that others wouldn’t making her useful and needed for furthering the experience of the Games. “It’s all subjective, I suppose,” She offered, beginning to pick at the polish of her nails, “I think importance is really dependent on the topic – say for the Hunger Games, I’d consider myself important. As for more trivial matters – fashion, art, popular culture? The opposite.”

“i’d say the hunger games could be considered trivial too. if it’s all subjective..” forty said, the kind of thing that had ended up with him involved in the hunger games anyway. and it wasn’t even a valid point, really, rather it was a simply defensive first response to pluto calling everything he was involved in trivial. maybe that was a funny realisation to come to, though forty doubted he’d thank her for it, that he hardly considered himself important, but everything he did ?? surely it had to be, on some level. otherwise there’d be no reason to work himself half to death. and having as much money as he did, any real value could only be found in abstracts. ah, the rich truly struggled in life.

Mirthless and targeted, Pluto let out an ice-cold chuckle. “Well desirable is something completely different,” She spoke succinctly. “Pluto Dosimetré,” She introduced herself, lounging back again, her behavior akin to the cat who ate the canary. She had reeled him in, mentally declaring herself the winner of their petty little conversation. “I didn’t introduce myself presuming you would know who I was,” She gave a short chuckle, “Pleasure to meet you Forty.”

he couldn’t quite decide whether he was annoyed by her, or whether this was the first interesting conversation he’d had in a good week. he wouldn’t have called himself desperate to please in any sense of the word, in fact, he was deliberately the opposite. and yet, where he would’ve normally given up on someone the moment he found out they didn’t already know who he was, because that was a fucking insult, he only hummed in response to her words. “pleasure’s all mine,” he said, even if it sounded a little stoic. “so, are you important then, pluto ??”

Pluto gave an almost sickening smile. He was insufferable. New to the Capitol meant a lot of things to her, but she still hadn’t quite grasped the infantile nature of the Capitolites quite yet, there was something so boorish about their every move. A short huff of a laugh left Pluto’s lips and she shook her head. “Oh, so you’re so important,” She spoke her voice like velvet and licked her lips in an anticipatory fashion, “I’m sorry, I don’t seem to know who you are, so clearly you’re not that big of celebrity. Maybe don’t let it get to your head, darling.”

important, sure. oddly, it wasn’t quite the word he’d use to describe himself. not when it felt as though he never left an impact on anyone or anything, that every move he made was rehearsed and hollow and therefore couldn’t be of any real importance. with lines written for him and mannerisms trained in by his mother. and sure, he could sic an army on teen girls on anyone at the click of his finger, but after the recently-failed rebellion, it had become awfully clear that something that disorganised could never have a lasting effect. maybe thirteen was fascinating after all, as a contrast to that. he quirked a brow, mulled over her words. “i’m just desirable. i’d say it’s a different pedestal from important,” he answered then, more thought put into that one sentence than anything he’d said all day. he pushed himself upright, shoulders straightened both out of habit, and because there was this tinge of frustration that ran up his spine and straightened it out at the notion that she didn’t know who he was. “forty love,” he said, then noted, “and i don’t know who you are either.”