"You'll make off like a bandit in the Capitol, Finnick. Everyone will want a piece of you."
"I don't need money."
"Of course you don't. The Capital, on the other hand, does."
"I won't do it. That's the deal, when you win the Capital leaves you alone." Finnick shook his head, crying.
"You don't have a choice. Who do you love more, your mother or your father?"
"I don't know." Finnick looked confused.
"That's a shame. They'll have a fifty percent chance of killing the one you love more. If you did know, they'd kill the one you love less. I find we have a bigger bargaining chip that way."
"Please- please don't."
"I've seen many people in your place, Finnick. All of them resisted at first. They all thought they could somehow weasel out of it. Let me tell you now. I own you. Do you hear me? I want you to tell me what I said." Finnick sobbed, trying to speak. The man grabbed his face. "Tell me what I said."
"You own me."
"Good. Remember that." The man let go, and looked softly at the boy. "They'll all love you. You'll be the crown jewel of my collection." The man looked to his avox. "Clean him up. I want him to look spectacular for his first client."
Finnick looked up. "Who is she?"
"He is a prominent business man. I'm sure you'll learn more about him. I've heard he's quite the talker." Finnick shuddered. "Don't be squeamish Finnick. All orientations are valid if one has enough money."
Later that night, Finnick slipped out of the man's bed and walked to his balcony. His avox stared; maybe she had been tempted by it too. He looked over, and put his foot on the short wall separating him and a broken neck. Finnick stared and wondered before returning to the bed. He had work to do.