Our Love Could Be Lethal

Act II: Sleepovers and Death

Even though I'm technically a "Career" because I'm from 4, I'm not really bothered by Jo's comments or the comments made by any of the other Mentors for that matter, because I can just laugh them off. I know that I learned my lessons about the true nature of the games a long time ago, so people poking fun at the Career ideology doesn't really phase me. In fact, it's something that I like to make fun of too. It's something that I left in the past a long time ago.

But for Octavia, if she was always sensitive about this, I'd understand. Her brother's wrapped up in it--well everyone she's around most of the year is wrapped up in it. But less than 5 years ago, she was the one making those jokes. She was ready to sell her soul to get rid of her Career image. So what's happened? What's changed? And why haven't I noticed?

I decide not to say anything because let's be honest, if I were to say something to Octavia, it probably wouldn't end well. Not right now with everything going on at least. I tell myself that this a conversation for later.

But Jo apparently does not share my sentiment and only slightly changes the subject. "I've been trying to forget that I'm friends with the two biggest Victors in the Capitol." Jo laughs. "Like I'm in with the two biggest poster children in all of Panem. Me." We are a pretty rag-tag team, I'll give her that.

Playing into the joke, Octavia rolls her eyes and sits down onto her bed. "That's only because Cashmere and Gloss got old."

Even though it was a joke, Octavia's right. Cashmere and Gloss may only be a few years older than us, but in the Capitol, getting even one wrinkle is seen as unfashionable. They cycle through Victors like were a fashion trend. That's why they all look like their faces are frozen. Cashmere and Gloss have really fallen in popularity over the past couple of years, and Octavia and I have filled that gap. With luck, I'll be out of fashion soon, and maybe, just maybe, people will leave me alone. But that's too much to ask for, isn't it?

Jo snorts. "You're right. Cashmere is starting to look like the old hag I always knew she was." Jo pauses, staring up at the ceiling fan. "This is fun. We always used to do this kind of thing. We should do it more often."

I scoff. "What do you mean? Me watch the two of you get drunk while I babysit? No thank you." I can hardly handle the two of them when they're sober.

"No, silly. Us just hanging out. We used to not give a damn about anything they said about us. Have fun, break a few things, trying to make up for all the things they took from us by ringing up the largest tabs possible. What happened to us?"

I chuckle. "We got old too."

Octavia gasps dramatically, staring into her mirror with concern. "I don't have any wrinkles, do I?"

"Yes," answers Jo quickly.

"No," I say at the same time.

"See Jo, this is why I keep you around. This liar over here wouldn't tell me stuff like this," she says, pointing to me. I wasn't lying! Octavia goes to grab Jo's arm to help her up. "Now can you show me where you saw it?"

"Yup," says Jo. "It's right... here." Jo flicks Octavia in the forehead.

I pinch the bridge of my nose as the two of them begin to drunkenly grapple with one another as if they were training or something.

I'm so over this. I just turn around and let them fight it out. At one point in the reflection of the mirror, I think I see Octavia go flying over Jo, but honestly, I'm so tired that I could just be seeing things.

Octavia eventually pins Jo down. "Take it back!"

"Over my dead body bitch!" screeches Jo.

Octavia begins to laugh hysterically, and then Jo begins to snigger. Great. I thought we were past the uncontrollable laughter stage already.