old habits die hard ♡ { cambie + corbin }
It’s hard to get a second of alone time when you are Head of House.
Not that Cambie’s complaining – in fact, busy is what she needs to be. She enjoys the social aspect of her job; she feeds off other people’s energy, and enjoys spending her time amongst her peers, House members, and the general Colony population. There’s always someone to say hi to! Always someone to cheer up! Always someone to praise! Always a smile to put on someone’s face!
When she was younger, people found this kind of behavior to be overbearing – but she never meant it that way. Some people just need a little more light than others, and that’s okay. Some people can’t make their own light or lose it too quickly to others. Cambie saw it as her job to be that light for anyone who needed it. That had been her dad’s job in her life, and it had changed her forever. Imagine what that light could do for someone else?
It felt like her destiny to have this role, in retrospect. Of all the things that could have happened after the apocalypse destroyed her life, Cambie Andrews did not expect to come out the other end propped up on a pedestal as a leader, first within her Clan and then the Colony. But leadership took its toll on anyone – just look at the Chancellor himself. Or any of his right hands. Even Cambie was beginning to feel the weight of the palpable tension amassing within the walls of the Colony. There was a tautness to every move made by officials, for reasons unknown to her.
Maybe she just needed to breathe. That made sense. There was nothing wrong with Cambie taking a moment to herself to unwind – her self-care these days was pretty limited anyway, she had earned at least ten minutes to get it out of her system and just… let go.
Cambie dives off after a meeting with a few mechanics in her House towards the Auditorium, a small window of opportunity for her to be alone. She has other things to deal with today, pressing matters – a check in with Dante Carrington, for starters. Someone she probably owes an apology to, now that she thinks about it. Cambie’s smirking to herself and as if the universe heard her, she hears him before she sees him. That song. As the other Heads of Houses have (not so charmingly) called him, “her charity case.” Cambie pauses for a moment, mulling over seeing him as a smile twitches on the corners of her lips. Logically, she should give him space – she’s sure he’s maybe the tiniest bit not happy with her, given her most recent mandate for Dr. Carrington’s sessions. Empathetically though, didn’t Corbin deserve to take his frustrations out on her, and not Dante? She was the one he perceived to be ‘meddling,’ and he deserved to confront her about it. If she ran from it, it would just mean Cambie regretted getting involved in the first place, which was most certainly not the case. The last thing she could ever do was run from Corbin – he didn’t deserve that, not ever again.
It felt fair and, in her heart, she knew it was the right thing to do. Cambie steels herself before swinging open the Auditorium door, and she feels an odd sense of validation at the sight of Corbin sitting on the edge of the stage. Another song has begun over the speakers – she seems to have missed his performance.
No matter. It was probably for the best – Cambie hated when she was interrupted in the middle of a show by a clueless passerby, or worse, someone who actually wanted her to stop what she was doing to talk to them.
Corbin is perched, about to light a cigarette. If he heard her come in, he doesn’t allude to it – he’s too focused on his PDD it seems to be bothered by her presence.
“I know you know that’s against the rules,” Cambie says as she begins making her way down the aisle. It’s a clear, commanding tone, one that’s able to carry her voice over the sound of the music – a choreographer’s voice. It’s not meant to be jarring, or scary, or condescending; she’s simply reminding him because, as it so happens, most of her job is reminding Corbin to follow the rules.
She smiles warmly to soften her words a bit, and stops a few rows back as she drops her bag into one of the chairs, “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”