Finnick Odair's Story: Dark Secrets (The Hunger Games Fanfiction)

Party Time

I go back to the mansion. I sleep, my dreams are terrifying, and I wake up every morning wishing I had never fallen asleep. The days pass slowly, I only leave my bedroom to do countless interviews and conferences, none of which I care about in the slightest. My fifteenth birthday passes, but I think everyone has forgotten.

I'm not sure what's happened to me; I feel like a prisoner, only with less freedom. Eli, Mags and Tricia have all tried, and failed, to talk me out of this monotonous trance I'm in. Ghost-like, I pace my bedroom back and forth - no one has seen this version of Finnick Odair. To keep up superficial appearances, I work for three hours a day in the gym, and plaster on a fake grin for the paparazzi. Girls still swoon when they pass me in the street, although I doubt they would be swooning if they could see me now. An abrupt knock at the door shakes me from my empty daydream, and Eli walks in, the biggest smile on his face.

''You look too happy,'' I comment nonchalantly, but Eli just laughs.

''And you look like someone who could do with a good party,'' he responds, bringing from behind him three golden tickets. Puzzled, I take them from his hands and read the delicate writing.

Capitol Entertainment presents the most spectacular event of the year, by invitation only, The Autumn Ball. Celebrities, victors and royalty alike, you are warmly invited to join us at The Plaza on 23rd October, 21:00 til late; food and drinks provided all night, courtesy of Capitol Catering. Please dress in formal attire, this is one party you'll never forget.

I look at Eli and force a smile. Perhaps this really is what I need - a distraction. The party is later tonight, so I accept the offer to join Tricia and Eli on a night out. Unfortunately, this means I have to have my hair done, a suit fitted and my ''make-up'' done, whilst Tricia frantically tries to assure me that all the men who live in the Capitol wear foundation and concealer. Tricia herself looks beautifully unusual - her usually blue hair has been dyed bubblegum pink and as she walks past me, I am certain I catch a whiff of strawberry candyfloss. Her dress is extravagant, an eclectic explosion of glitter and pink roses, and her shoes have heels that lift her taller than both me and Eli, who has chosen a similarly bizarre outfit. His plain black suit is accompanied by a huge cape made of crow feathers and chains. Each time he takes a step, the metal clinks and jingles as if Christmas has come early.

Typically, I've opted for a tuxedo, plain black with a turquoise shirt. I'm going to look like a misfit amongst the other party guests, but I don't particularly want to dress up and look like a fool either. Nine o'clock arrives almost too soon and we check our outfits are in order, before beginning the journey into the centre of town.

Music is pumping loudly from The Plaza when we arrive. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of guests are already here, and I'm relieved when we can slip into the party without any attention being drawn to us. All around me are men, women, and people who are somewhere in between, who look as if they've stepped straight off the pages of a fairy tale - some people even have wings protruding from their bare backs like angels. There are so many things to see, I don't know where to look. People have had their faces surgically altered to look like various creatures, and I'm pretty sure no one is actually born with vampire-like fangs.

Tricia has to raise her voice to ask if I'll be okay on my own, and I nod firmly. I want independence and, besides, they probably don't want an annoying kid hanging around them all evening. Grinning, she clings to Eli and they walk off to talk to two people dressed as matching dragons. I think the Capitol has a different idea of ''formal'' to how we would dress in District 4. ''Formal attire'' seems to translate to ''dress as weirdly as possible''.

Seeing as no one is talking to me, I decide to sample some of the snacks the buffet has on offer. Hesitating, I bite into a mysterious purple sandwich, which tastes suspiciously like a cinnamon muffin. The green vegetables end up tasting like chocolate, and lavender-scented marshmallows end up tasting like an entire roast dinner in one mouthful. After having sampled only half of the magical selection, I'm craving a drink to wash it down.

''What can I get you, sweetheart?'' the pretty girl at the bar asks me. She has bright ginger hair that has been moulded into the shape of a pumpkin on top of her head, and her face is aglow with fluorescent makeup. Before I can place my order, she gasps and drops the glass she is cleaning. It shatters on the floor, but she doesn't seem to mind.

''Hold on - you're Finnick Odair. Don't try and tell me you're not, I've seen you on my television more than enough times to recognise that dashingly handsome face of yours,'' she says, turning to face me properly and leaning forward on the bar counter. I smile weakly.

''Caught red-handed. I was doing so well to keep out of trouble,'' I laugh, and her green eyes light up.

''Let me pour you a cocktail then, Finnick,'' she offers, adding various ingredients to a tall and thin glass, before filling it up with a spirit and adding silver glitter to make it sparkle. I'm pretty sure that it's against the law to serve drinks to anyone under the age of eighteen, but I decide not to care. There's worse crimes to commit, like murder.

''Thank you very much,'' I say politely, taking the drink and sipping it slowly. As soon as the cool liquid hits my lips, sensational flavours dance along my tongue and down my throat, burning like fire.

''Do you like it?'' the barmaid asks, and I nod my head slowly before drinking the rest of the glass in one gulp. Her crazy hair moves when she giggles, clearly very content, and she happily pours me another drink before she has to serve someone else. I slip away to a quieter corner of the party, clutching my second cocktail protectively.