Prison of Beauty

Confessions

I see Fitz making his rounds and run to catch up to him. He's one of my oldest friends and I really need to talk to a friend right now.

"Hey Raven!"

"Hey Fitz! Got some time to catch up before your next job?"

"Yeah, sure."

We head over to our old spot, Tom and Lisa's abandoned house, right across the street from mine. It's an old house that was here before the Gen's walls were built. There's a fence around what Lisa said used to be a "garden", where vegetables were grown right there instead of transported over the wall. They also had a lot of books they buried while the wall was going up. Now the once white picket fence is gray and weathered and knocked over. The books are safely hidden under the floorboards of the stairs. They taught us to read while slowly fading away. They were old and done making their rounds or producing kids. So they took us in and treated us like grandchildren, reminding us of what it used to be like. That this shouldn't be normal. They raised Fitz so he could know what it was like to have a home instead of going around begging while he was little before he could earn his stay.  

"You wanna write again?" Fitz asks. We write little stories in the margins of the books with Tom's old pens that we keep hidden with the books.

"I think the last pen went out of ink awhile ago ... I do have some things I need to tell you though."

"Okay ... what about?"

"Soooo there's this guy ... "

"Raven! You said you weren't gonna conform and get pregnant for more food!!"

"I'm not getting pregnant ... we're just kinda close and he gets me. He's gorgeous too like absolutely perfect. With his body I really don't understand why he's not a worker ... "

"Okay you're gonna tell me everything about him. Where and when did you meet? What's he look like? What's his name? What's --"

"Okay, okay slow down," I say, laughing. "So we met when he was making his rounds but he doesn't like making them he does it as little as possible just to survive. So I've been sneaking him food so he doesn't have to do it anymore. I mean you know I don't eat the meat anyways and my portions have gotten bigger for some reason ... He looks great, he has the whole dark hair and blue eyes thing going on which is totally my weakness. And um I don't know his name ... "

"You do know he could be playing you, right? Making you feel special? While still making his rounds and enjoying a good fuck here and there while getting some extra food off of you? Telling you exactly what you want to hear? I mean you don't even know his name!"

"He's not though," I say, earning a raised eyebrow and criticizing look in return. "Like he knows how I feel about the government and feels the same way!" 

"Uh-huh. Just make sure you're not being used."

"You look skinny, Fitz. What's been going on with you? Are the girls' rations smaller or something?"

"Ummm no not really. I've just ... been struggling. With work. I don't do my job very well," he says, looking away uncomfortably.

"But if you weren't fertile then they wouldn't have made you a rounder ... I'm confused."

"You're not the only one who's found a guy," he bursts out.

"Oh," I answer, slightly taken aback. "I had no idea ..." Or maybe I did. He did always like to read the parts where the guy's six packs were described in the books Lisa tried to keep hidden from us when we were younger. 

"Yeah so I've been struggling to ya know perform as well lately because women just don't help a lot. And then sometimes picturing his face helps uh get it up, but a couple times it hasn't and people just don't want to waste food on a rounder with a bad rep, ya know?"

"That sucks and all and I'm very sorry, but you're gonna have to tell me about this guy. Where and when did you meet? What does he look like? What is his name?" I inquire with a smirk.

The corners of his mouth turn up slightly thinking about this guy and his eyes light up -- it's adorable. "We met on our rounds. I was just thrown out and called a waste of food because I failed at attempting to get a girl pregnant and well he said he knew the struggle and offered me some food he'd saved from earlier that night. He has light brown eyes and has dark curly hair, kinda reminds me of Rico. Not that I had a crush on your brother or anything that's gross but they do look alike. Anyways, he's a little younger than me, just old enough to make his rounds.  And his name's Jeremy."

"He sounds like a good guy! I'm happy for you. Now what's your relationship with him like?"

"Well, after making our rounds we find an abandoned building and sleep there. We cuddle, we talk about our day, we kiss a little, do a little more than kiss a little sometimes, though obviously not too much we can't waste our little sperm soldiers on pleasure our life literally depends on it. But yeah I think I'm in love and it feels amazing ... " He trails off and looks down, slightly embarrassed by having gone on a rant about his sweetheart.

"I'm happy for you! Just lose your eyes imagine it's Jeremy's mouth when you're sticking it in a girl," I say, getting a playful slap in return. 

"Yeah yeah yeah, I'll figure it out. Anyways I have to go, or I'll be too late to earn my dinner. Good night, and don't get played by a rounder. Please."

"I won't. Good night."

I watch him walk off and wonder why anybody who is a little different has no opportunity to live life here. I mean it's not an amazing life even for people who don't struggle, but why is being different such a crime?