I step into the large building, suddenly feeling very insignificant. I was just a smallish girl, in the middle of a very large plot. I had jusst stepped into Cyrus's party, marveling at all of the decorations and capitol citizens. My wig had almost fallen off earlier, and if Finnick wouldn't've taken his shirt off to distract everyone, I would've been discovered.
"Well, this is where we split up!" Cherry says, overly cheerily. She's wearing a very poofy pink dress, that has roses all over it, and the hem graces the floor. She saunters off to find some of her Capitol friends. We decided that we'd be less conspicuous if Cherry left. Finnick and I will navigate the party together, me pretending to be one of his... girlfriends from the Capitol.
I marvel at my surroundings. There are thousands of plates of fancy Capitol food. If I stayed here all year, I still probably wouldn't be able to eat all of it. Hundreds of the richest Capitol citizens flock around the tables, along with paparazzi and interviewers. What would people do if they realized that I'm Caspia Thetis, alive still? Would they cheer? Riot? Would they even care?
"Stop thinking so hard. I can see you tensing up. You might draw attention to us," Finnick whispers in my ear. He's wearing a tight black tuxedo, with a green and blue satin tie. "Now laugh like I said the funniest joke in the world."
I laugh, trying to make it sound real. Finnick also cracks a smile. "Good job." He mouths, Once a mentor, always a mentor.
"Where should we go?" I ask. "And why did I have to come? Why couldn't I just stay at the apartment and hide out?"
"Because Cyrus is going to kill himself if he thinks you sacrificed yourself so he could go home. And they saw you with us a couple hours ago when Cyrus won. Better that you don't disappear from the face of the earth all of the sudden." Finnick whispers like it''s obvious. "Let's make our way to the buffet table."
We start walking, hand in hand to the buffet table. I pick up a cup of hot chocolate, and Finnick picks up a plate of fish. "How do you know that Cyrus will kill himself?" I ask, sipping.
"He joked with me about it on the train." Finnick says. "Well, I took it as a joke."
"Well that's not good," I state the obvious. "How will I tell him about me being... alive?"
"That's for you to decide," Finnick winks. "All I can tell you is that-- why thank you," Finnick lowers his voice to a seductive purr and lowers his eyelids. I start to ask him what the heck he is doing, but I realize that someone has approached us, and Finnick started to act flirtatious so as not to give us away.
"Finnick.... Hi!!" A Capitol woman says, with her high pitched voice. I look up. She has large blue hair, and very pale skin. She's wearing green pants and a green shirt, that look like they're made out of plastic. Her clothes are very tight. "Remember me?"
Finnick gulps. "Uh...." He obviously doesn't remember her.
"Marci Daniels? We met a month ago?" She says. "President Snow introduced us? Then we went on a date and-"
Finnick starts breathing somewhat heavily. His face turns a shade or two paler. I remember his story. Everyone in District 4 knows it. He's President Snow's slave. It's a tale of human trafficking. Finnick says he gets sick even thinking about what he's been put through.
"I think he ate some bad fish," I whisper to Marci. I put my hand on Finnick's back, ever so gently, and lead him to the bathroom. Marci looks at him in sympathy, and saunters off.
Finnick walks into the bathroom, and I wait outside. There's really loud music playing, and Cyrus hasn't even appeared at his own winning party yet.
I rock back and forth on my feet, and I'm startled by a tap on my shoulder. I look up, and see Finnick waiting. "So, when are we actually gonna have fun at this party?" I ask.
Finnick chuckles. "Who says parties are supposed to be fun?"
~~~---~~~
My head throbs. I sit my glass down on the table. It used to be full of wine. I usually would turn it down, but I need to be stress free right now. There's just too much stressful things happening right now. With my being alive, Cyrus hating himself, everyone's eyes on me, my family possibly being dead, President Snow watching over my shoulder at all times... I could just go on and on.
Finnick left a few minutes ago, because he saw one of his Capitol friends at the party. We've been here for two hours, and Cyrus still isn't here.
I order another wine glass, and put my head in my hands. I just wish that this party could be over and I could be back in District 4, living the rest of my miserable in secrecy, solitude, and desolation.
Maybe death would be preferrable.....
Well, I do have a little more freedom, that I'm not a tribute, and not special to the Capitol anymore.
All I need to do is drink a little more, and stumble out onto the train tracks....
A voice behind me startles me. "Your wine, Mrs. Odair." The waiter man holds my wine glass out to me.
I look down at my name tag in a daze. It says Ophelia Odair. "It's Ms. Odair. Finnick and I aren't really married, we were just playing around." I grab the glass.
"Whatever you say, Ms. Odair." The man says, bowing and leaving.
I take a big drink, and screw up my face in disgust. This isn't wine, this is one of those drinks that keep you from getting intoxicated. Oh well, maybe death really isn't an option. I drink another time, feeling my head clear up.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Cyrus Hall!" I hear an announcer say. Suddenly, a white hot spotlight shines on the doorway. Cyrus steps in, looking a bit less scraggly than in the arena. He's wearing his district ring, and a black tuxedo. His tie is holographic, so it shows a moving image of lightning filling dark clouds. He smiles in the spotlight as everyone cheers. Some confetti explodes into the air, and the music is cranked louder. I wonder why it took him so long to get here...
The spotlight goes off, as his mentors split up and leave him to navigate the party alone. He immediately finds the buffet table.
I sigh. Maybe I don't need to tell him I'm alive. Maybe he'll be happier that way.
And even standing in the same room as him is practially asking to get me noticed.
I go to the exact opposite table from him, all the way across the room. I fill a bowl with lamb stew and orange sauce. This looks really good.
I walk slowly back to my table, dodging drunk Capitol citizens. To my horror, some of them drink this thin white liquid, and it makes them throw up so they can eat more.
Back in my district, if you throw up, you basically don't get to eat any more until the next meal. It's unheard of to throw up for fun.
I sit down, and start shoveling the food in my mouth, frankly not caring about image. If Cherry saw me eating like this, though, she'd probably cry.
But I've made up my mind. It'd be better for all of us if I don't tell Cyrus that I'm alive. More people will live. But If I come face to face with him, I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself.
I feel a prickling on the back of my neck when I get done with my soup.
I inconspicuously turn around and look. Cyrus is about one hundred feet away, looking at me quizzically. What if he recognizes me?!
I jump up out of my chair, and smooth down my dress. I pick up my bowl, and walk away from the table really fast, hoping that Cyrus isn't following. Maybe he wasn't looking at me, I think, looking back as I discard my bowl, maybe--
He's following me. He has a quizzical expression on his face, eyes set on me, walking towards me. He's getting closer and closer.
Our eyes meet, and I spin on my heel. I start walking away, as fast as I can, in the other direction. I dodge between citizens, moving with the thrumming beat of the song. A few interviewers look down at me, almost in disgust, muttering things about me being out of style.
I look back, and see that Cyrus is set on me, practically jogging to catch up. He's almost caught me, about ten feet away. I start jogging to get away from him, wishing that I had worn better running shoes. These tall yellow pumps aren't helping me go any faster.
Is he trying to give me away? He's just jogging after the mystery girl, trying to get my face plastered all over every bulletin in the districts.
He's still following me at pace, so I let image go. I start sprinting across the room, trying not to bump anyone. I dodge between people as fast as I can without falling.
I even go as far as sliding under one of the tables.
I look back, and see that Cyrus isn't trailing me anymore. He's nowhere in sight. I sigh, relieved. I pant, brushing my dress off. That was close, I almost got recognized.
If I did get recognized, I wonder what Cyrus's reaction would be. Would he be mad? Happy? Raptuturous, even?
That was a rush, I need to do that again sometime. I pick up a roll from the table that I just slid under. I raise it to my lips to take a bite.
A hand on my shoulder startles me. I turn and look up at the person who spoke.
"Do I know you?" A voice asks, a voice that I've been longing to hear for so long, but too afraid to hear. His electric blue eyes peer into mine, a startling color that I recognize from the nights of us in the tree, scared out of our wits, to the first time I ever saw him, branding him with the nickname "Tree Boy." I drop my roll and it rolls across the floor.
Cyrus caught me.