The 75th Hunger Games {COMPLETED}

After Party

I wiped my eyes as I hobbled over to where Effie was standing.

“My dear! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just a little emotional.”

“Well don’t rub off your make up dear! Clarina!” So I sat for another fifteen minutes while she fixed my eyes, I’m sure they looked fine.

Effie had me climb into a carriage and attempt to stand as I drove down the road between the stands full of my admirers. I waved and smiled as brightly as I could even though I didn’t mean any of it. I acted like I was smitten with the thrill of it all, so absorbed in the attention from all of them.

I just wanted to leave.

We stopped at the bottom of the stairs to the podium and I walked up, albeit clumsily yet still waving, until I reached the top. I stood on my mark and put on a determined face. To my left, President Snow was approaching with a golden tiara. He almost seemed to approach in slow motion, his face with the same expression as always; proud, in control, powerful.

He stopped to stand in front of me. My heart was beating ferociously.

“Congratulations Miss Hanspark.” He said softly, the faint smell of blood drifting towards me from his breath.

“Thank you, I hope I’ve done the Capitol proud.”

“It is safe to say that you have done just that. Once again, congratulations.” I don’t think I would ever be able to trust a man with eyes so cold.

He placed the crown on my head and used his hands to gesture to me for the crowd. They just applauded and cheered, drunk with the excitement of the games.

The rest was a daze; the whole night has been as I look back. I was shepherded out to my prep room where the three members of my team fussed over the crown and how sparkly it was. Maybe not that last part but they were definitely drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

There was a knock on the door and one of the stylists flitted over to answer it, when she saw who it was she didn’t know how to hold herself. Seneca Crane stood in the doorway, his blue eyes sparkling in the bright lights of the prep room.

I stood up to face him, obviously he was here to see me.

“Good evening, Miss Hanspark.”

“Mr Crane, what a pleasure to see you.” I said politely.

“I’m just here to inform you that you will be attending a celebratory gathering tonight, hosted by President Snow. You will, of course, be the guest of honour.”

“I would be delighted.” I smiled warmly, not meaning it at all.

“Excellent, a car will be around to pick you up in about an hour.”

“I look forward to it.” We exchanged pleasantries and he left.